Chapter Twenty-one
There was one good thing about the circadian rhythm: I rarely overslept on a workday.
The bad thing about the circadian rhythm was that I woke up at six a.m. no matter if I was working or not.
Once I was awake, and my bladder was also, I rarely could fall back to sleep.
My mind kicked in, and the list of things to do for the day was front and center.
Wiggling my butt closer to the hunk of man beside me, I contemplated wriggling under the covers to give him a blowjob as a happy Monday morning gift.
Then my bladder really woke up, and I sadly realized that the staff was probably already up.
Cooks cooking, butlers butlering, and maids cleaning.
And while we were a couple and Anders was out, there were still certain protocols to adhere to.
Also, he did not need a scandal about us sharing his bed to come to light.
The king and he were at odds enough over holding hands.
Imagine if a maid spied me creeping out of the prince’s chambers.
Nope, that was not a headache Anders needed.
God knows he had enough. So, with a hearty sigh for a BJ that would have to wait, I quietly slid from the covers.
He shifted slightly, cleared his throat, then fell back into the heavy breaths of a deep sleep.
Smiling at the mound of curls and the tip of his nose that I could see, I blew him a kiss and began the search for my clothes.
Not an easy task in the darkened room. The fire had burned down to a few red coals.
Surely someone would be coming in soon to stoke it.
The slipper that had flown to the canopy would have to stay there.
Jammies back on, and one foot bare, I eased out of Anders’ room, closing the door quietly, glad for a thick throw rug to rest my naked foot on as I tugged the door shut.
“Morning,” a man called, startling me out of my wits.
I spun, heart pounding, to find Harold sitting in an overstuffed chair, dark blue robe and slippers over fleece joggers, cup of steaming something that smelled of honey and lemon.
His curly hair was tamed, his cheeks free from whiskers, his dark eyes dancing merrily.
“Tiptoeing out of the young prince’s chambers before dawn? Quite the scandal!”
I stammered over myself. “I, uhm…there was…” The smirk on Harold’s handsome face grew wider the more I bumbled about, so I just quit. “You won’t say anything, will you? Things are tense enough with the king and Anders.”
“Please, as if I cared one bit about you and my brother sharing a bed.” He waved my worry off with a well-manicured left hand.
“Thank you.” That took a load off. “Not to be rude, Your Highness—”
“Harold, please. We’re practically family, and I hate standing on formality here. This is the one place on this uptight island where we can be ourselves.”
“Harold then. Not to be rude, but I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone, or I was hoping not to see any staff. I didn’t think I’d bump into you sitting here in the hall at the crack of dawn.”
“No? And why is that?” He slurped his tea as I tried to find a polite way to say that I assumed he would be a slug-a-bed rich prince who slept until noon. “You don’t have to answer that. I’m sure I know why you asked. I have fitful sleep at times. Other times it’s full-blown insomnia.”
“I’m sorry.” I shifted my weight from my bare foot to my slippered one. “I’m up because I always get up at six for work and to get Gilda ready for school.”
He lowered his cup to rest on his thigh. “Right, you’re a working man. That’s commendable. And a single father. Twice as commendable. Since I had patchy sleep last night, I thought I would call up for some tea and sit here and wait for the sun to rise.”
I glanced over my shoulder to see a lovely bow window which looked out over the wooded acreage of this humble cottage. Facing east, it would indeed get the first rays of the sun. The door at the farthest end of the hall opened. Rani stepped out fully dressed.
“And there it is now,” Harold commented loudly enough for Rani’s surprised gaze to fly down to where we stood. Well, I stood. On two feet, one bare and growing chillier by the moment. Harold sat. Rani’s eyes widened and then narrowed imperceptibly.
“Your Highness, Mr. Baxter,” Rani softly said, padding down to us in polished loafers that went well with the dark brown pants, off-white cable sweater, and a tartan scarf of gray, brown, and red draped artfully around his long neck. “Is there something either of you requires?”
“No, I was just…” I had no clue what to say.
“Mitchell had a sudden leg cramp, probably due to losing his slipper, and was walking it off when he stumbled across me sitting here sipping my tea. I had a dreadful night.”
“Oh, I am sorry, Your Highness. Did you bring your sleep aids?” Rani asked as I internally thanked the gods Harold was a much better—and faster—fibber than I was or would ever be.
“I did, but they didn’t seem to work well.
My best sleep aid was sadly out of reach,” Harold pointedly said.
Rani nodded just once, quite stiffly, as the sound of two women talking from the first floor filtered up to us.
Rani and Harold stood there staring at each other.
The vibes in this hallway were so thick you’d need a chainsaw to hack through them.
“I think my cramped foot is better, so I’m going to go back to my room and shower.
See you downstairs for breakfast at eight?
” I asked, got two bobs of two heads, and pretend-limped to my room.
Once inside, with the door closed, I took a breath and then let it out.
Being caught doing the walk of shame by my lover’s older brother. So not the way to start the day.
***
I met Anders outside my door at eight. He gave me a soft kiss.
“I woke up, and you were gone,” he whispered, taking my hand as we made our way down the steps to the first floor.
“My internal alarm went off, so I got up. I didn’t want anyone to find me sneaking from your room,” I confessed. “But your brother was sitting in the hall when I emerged, so I was busted right off. Might better have stayed in your nice, warm bed.”
“Harold is known to have bad nights. As for the staff, they can all go shovel snow for all I care. We are a couple. The world now knows it, my family knows it, and the staff can know it. “
I gave his hand a squeeze. “Thank you. I suppose I should discuss our intimate status with Gilda so she’s not shocked when someone is caught light footing it from one bedroom to the other.”
“I’m sure she won’t be shocked,” he replied with a look that said she probably knew more than us about sex. Which I hoped she did. I’d always been frank with her about where babies came from and tried to address any questions she might have as she grew older.
“No, probably not,” I conceded, stepping into the foyer and making a right that took us past a room filled with chairs, sofas, and a massive television set.
The smell of coffee, bacon, and toast greeted us as we filed into a small dining room.
Dark paneling, pine drapes pulled wide to allow the winter sun to flow in.
The scenery outside the double windows was awe inspiring.
No gardens or fountains to be seen, just trees and snow and a periwinkle sky.
A small group of red deer stepped out of the woods, pausing to paw at the snow before moving back into the forest.
Harold sat at the far end of the smallish cherry dining table, smiling at us, with a neatly opened newspaper resting on his lap.
“Anders, Mitchell,” Harold said just as a maid entered with a fresh urn of what I assumed would be coffee. She curtsied quickly, left the urn, and scurried off through a small door beside a painting of a lake. “They’ve just served.”
“Your Highness,” I said, bowing as required.
“Please don’t. First names are fine here,” Harold kindly said, so I smiled and nodded.
“My God, do they still print those?” Anders asked as he motioned me to the sideboard that held numerous covered serving dishes.
I took note that Gilda was still sleeping.
Good. She was young and needed rest. We’d all been going pretty fast and furious since we landed.
I could still feel the lingering traces of jet lag.
Or maybe my sleepiness was due to being up so late making love to Anders…
“Amazingly, they do. I’m sure Father supports the paper.
You know how he is about change,” Harold tossed out as he picked up the paper, snapped it, and began to read off what the local press—I was assuming the paper was ?stermonian—had to say about the baptism.
“He’ll shit a whale when he sees some of the imagery from the church.
You and your boyfriend are shown at least twice. Gasp!”
Anders snorted while lifting a silver lid to show me the heaping mound of fried eggs. “Were we speaking to each other in a lewd and gay way?”
“Oh yes, the gay is just flowing out of you. I’m shocked the choir wasn’t washed away in that tsunami of queerness,” Harold tossed out.
I spooned two eggs onto my dish, suddenly ravenous.
Anders snorted in amusement. “Honestly, it’s so stupid.
This county is so backward it’s a wonder we’re not shitting in buckets still.
Do try the rye with the pickled herring, Mitchell. ”
“Thank you, I will.” And so I filled my plate with herring and salmon, a small dish of porridge, a slice of ham, and of course, my eggs. And coffee. Anders followed me, taking a seat across from Harold and leaving me to sit at the head of the table that held eight. “This all looks amazing.”