CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – HATTIE
Marina’s gaze cuts into me as we’re driven away from the Kilon estate. I can’t begin to imagine what she’s thinking.
After all, she saw everything that happened in that room.
She saw me pull that knife out of my sleeve like it was nothing. She saw me hold it against a man’s neck and pierce his skin without batting an eyelid. She saw me practically order her boss around as if he were my own personal employee.
“How long have you been with the Sinclairs?” My voice cuts through the silence, sending invisible ripples through the tension, easing it.
“A little over a year,” she replies. “His Grace sent me there when they had a job opening.”
“And you’ve been reporting back to him ever since?”
She shifts, her shoulders hunching slightly. “Yes. Once every two weeks, sometimes three, unless anything important happened. To be honest, most of his interest was in business matters and keeping an eye on Jasmine for the Royal Family.”
“And now?”
“His Grace instructed me to be your eyes and ears once the truth was revealed to the palace. The only things I report to him are matters of your safety, nothing else.”
I sigh, leaning back in the seat, and briefly close my eyes.
“I’m not bothered about it, Marina. I’m not surprised he has people everywhere.
People in power don’t stay that way by coasting through life.
Every move is calculated, and keeping tabs on those who oppose you—heck, even those who support you—is wise. ”
She nods but doesn’t say anything.
“I assume you’re to stay there after I leave?”
“Yes. I will be reporting back matters regarding Rosalyn and Jasmine,” she says quietly, clasping her hands in her lap.
“Especially when they pertain to you. His Grace has made it clear that protecting you is to be the priority from now, and he knows they won’t react well once you’re revealed as His Royal Highness’ fiancée. ”
‘Won’t react well’ is perhaps the understatement of the century.
They’ll be apoplectic.
I, for one, cannot wait. With any luck, I’ll have a front row seat to that particular show.
“All right. Those reports will be shared with me, correct?”
“I believe so, but you’d have to check with the duke.”
“I will.” I look out of the window at the buildings that blur as we speed past. “When we get back, I’ll be sending you to return to your duties. Jasmine likely won’t be expecting me to come back, certainly not unharmed, so we must convince her that it was all a matter of coincidence.”
“How are we going to do that?”
I pause, then lean forwards. “Can we be left at the shopping centre instead, please?”
Sophia meets my gaze through the rearview mirror. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, we’ll be getting a taxi home anyway. I need to get a few things.”
“Very well.” She presses her lips together. “I will be nearby. His Royal Highness’ orders.”
I wave my hand and return my attention to the view out of the window. “That’s fine. I’m sorry if it’s an inconvenience for you.”
“Not at all. Your safety is my priority, Miss Harriet.”
The ghost of a smile plays at my lips. How many times have I heard that lately? Never in my life has anyone been so concerned about me or the people around me.
Still, what does it matter?
Things like that are fleeting.
Concern, care, protection... They all come with strings.
Not one of those things is given freely.
Even here, none of these people would give a damn about me if their superiors didn’t make them.
I know I’m nothing more than a job.
Our detour to the shopping centre later, and both Marina and I have our hands full with shopping bags. Some purchases are frivolous, but others are more necessary. Not because I need them, per se, but because they help.
Help me convince the people in my house that I’m making plans for my life after Jasmine becomes the crown prince’s fiancée. That I’m planning for my career long into the future. That I’m not interested in what she has.
That I don’t care that she’s stealing my entire life.
Because... I don’t. I know the truth, after all.
Even if I weren’t Finn’s fiancée, I know that nothing has been confirmed.
Despite her best efforts, almost everyone in the house has heard Rosalyn’s panicked mutterings to my father over the past several days about how the Royal Family haven’t been in contact.
They’re assuming it’ll be announced. Acting like it is. Telling Jasmine everything is fine, that they’re in negotiations, that they’re handling it.
Maybe that’s why she did this. Maybe that’s the reason she thought to do something as monumentally stupid as set me up with some thugs who would... Honestly, I don’t know what she thought they would do.
Beat me? Rape me? Kill me? Break me beyond belief?
She’s a fool.
A careless, weak fool, blinded by her own insecurities.
As she should be.
She knows that everything she has should be mine. If I were her, I might want to get rid of me, too, if I’m being honest.
After all, I know better than anyone what can transpire if you don’t rid yourself of those who threaten you.
She’s about to find out for herself.
Our taxi pulls up outside the gates of the Sinclair estate, and Marina gets out to retrieve our bags from the boot. I pay the driver, adding a tip for good measure, and thank him before I step out to help Marina with the rest of our things.
With them in hand, I use my fob to open the gates, and we walk through the front garden to the main house. Someone is waiting for us when we reach the doors, and the moment we step inside, the maid’s eyes briefly widen.
Ah.
So you’re her little helper, are you?
“M—Miss Sinclair.” Her voice wobbles slightly as she greets me, and she looks down. “You’re back sooner than expected.”
“Is that a problem?” I raise an eyebrow. “Is there a reason I cannot come back before the time I originally stated? I live here.”
“No, of course not. No problem, miss.” She takes a step back, granting us entry to the foyer.
I motion for Marina to follow me, and as soon I step inside, I turn and head towards the living room. Jasmine is lounging on one of the sofas, a steaming cup on the coffee table beside her, with her feet on the back cushions and her phone in front of her face.
She looks up, presumably at the sound of my footsteps, and her brow furrows before she catches herself. “Harriet? What are you doing back so soon?”
“Goodness,” I say, putting my bags on the armchair. “Why is everyone so obsessed with what time I’m home? It’s like there’s something going on I don’t know about. If it were my birthday, I might think you’re planning a surprise party.”
“In your dreams.” She puts her phone down and shuffles into a seated position. “You said you would be back later, that’s all.” Her blue gaze, as icy as ever, roves over me, as if she’s examining me for any bumps or scrapes. “Didn’t you have a shoot today?”
“Mm, I did. I was a bit late leaving thanks to Marie.” I cock my thumb over my shoulder in Marina’s direction, deliberately giving her the wrong name. “So, I made her come with me.”
Panic twitches across her features. “You never take anyone to your shoots.”
“Yes, well, I was late, as I said.” I sigh dramatically.
“She came to help me set up, but when we got there, the clients never showed up. We waited for an hour, and I called, but nothing.” I shrug a shoulder as if it’s no big deal and pat my bags.
“So, she ran errands with me instead. I need some new equipment.”
“Right.” Jasmine looks between us, her shoulders tense. “Clients didn’t show up, huh? Maybe they found out how much of a fraud you are.”
“Maybe,” I reply brightly, picking up my bags again. I turn and hand them to Marina, then flag down another maid. “Please take these things to my room.”
She bows her head. “Yes, miss.” She picks up the bags Marina can’t manage, and together, the two of them haul my goodies upstairs.
“Did your clients really not show up?” Jasmine is sitting up now, and she’s cradling her cup of what smells like coffee as if it’s a lifeline. Her knuckles are white, and there’s a slight tremble to her grasp.
“Why would I lie about that?” I tilt my head to one side. “It happens. Emergencies, illnesses, sometimes people just change their mind. That’s why I take a deposit. Why?”
“I was only asking.” Her haughty tone is weaker than usual. “I thought it strange, that’s all.”
“Why? Do you know my clients from today?”
“No!” The word bursts out of her, and she catches herself, faking a sip from her mug before setting it down. “No, of course not. Why would I?”
“I don’t know. It’s a small world, after all.” I pause, then smile coolly at her. “Well, this catch up was… lovely, but I have things to do. Are you done interrogating me, detective?”
Jasmine scoffs and lies back on the sofa, reaching her hand between the cushions and retrieving her phone. “As if I care what you do. As long as you’re out of my way, you can do whatever you want.”
“Thank you for your permission, ma’am,” I retort dryly. “Is that all? May I be excused from your most esteemed presence?”
“You—” She clenches her jaw, and the heat in her gaze would burn a lesser person. “I can’t wait to move out of here. Anything to get away from you.”
“Ah, yes, to your exquisite abode in the Royal Palace.” I walk towards the door, then glance back at her. “Don’t forget that you’re not engaged yet, Jasmine.”
“I’m as good as!” Anger flushes her cheeks bright red, and the ugliest side of her glints in her eyes. “In fact, Her Majesty called to speak to Mum to arrange things just this morning!”
Ha!
It takes everything within me not to laugh, and I simply smile at her over my shoulder.
“I’m sure she did,” I say airily. “Well, I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
***
I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Standing here in the Royal Palace, on a literal pedestal, while two women help me into the prettiest gown I’ve ever seen in my life, is a liar.
I am a liar.
This dress? It doesn’t suit me. It might be the exact shade of red as my favourite lipstick—the one that colours my lips at this very moment—but it’s not meant for me.