CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – FINN
“It won’t be amicable,” Alec says, a hint of warning in his tone.
I swap my phone from one ear to the other and glance back at a napping Hattie in the bed. “I didn’t think it would be,” I reply, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake her. “What happened last night?”
“At the banquet or after?”
“Both.”
The phone line crackles as he blows out a breath.
“Jasmine kept trying to leave, and Rosalyn kept her there for as long as they could. I hovered as close as I was able to without making it obvious I was listening in, but they were both furious. Rosalyn mentioned something about not letting her get away with it, so there will be some form of retaliation.”
“We expected something like that. What about Jasmine?”
“She asked her how the hell she managed to keep it secret given the investigator her mother had following Harriet, but Rosalyn hushed her up pretty quickly. After that, it was mostly Jasmine complaining about being humiliated and demanding to leave. As for the investigator, he’s already been briefed and knows what to say.
I’d imagine she’s already made contact.”
“What about William?”
“You’d have to speak to Oscar, but I think it was much of the same. Given he went to find Harriet and left early, I’d wager he gave in to their demands to leave.”
“Yeah, that’s why he found her. We suggested he leave when Mum and I joined them.” I run my hand through my hair and perch on the windowsill, keeping my gaze fixed on Hattie’s sleeping form. “Did Marina find anything out?”
“She offered to take one of the late shifts yesterday, but it seems they closed ranks, for lack of a better term,” Alec explains, grunting at the end. “I don’t think they know there’s a rat in their house, which tells me whatever they’re planning isn’t going to be good.”
“Is William involved in it?”
“I couldn’t say, but Marina said he was—and I quote, ‘Absolutely fucking raging’—when they got home. Rosalyn and Jasmine stayed with him for less than fifteen minutes before they left his office, so she got the impression he wasn’t very interested in whatever they had to say.”
“I can imagine. He was angry when we forced him to leave.” I rub my hand over my mouth. “What about this morning?”
“Nothing. It’s second-hand information, but apparently, they didn’t share a single word during breakfast, and William disappeared back into his office immediately after. Jasmine did the same with her room. Marina said she ‘looked like shit.’”
“All right, thanks.”
“Be prepared, Finn. God only knows how this meeting is going to go.”
“Well, it’s about to start.”
As if I’ve summoned it, there’s a gentle knock on the door. Hattie stirs but doesn’t wake, and I rush across the room to open it before Rowan knocks again and accidentally wakes her up.
“I’ll call you later,” I say to Alec, then hang up the phone. I shove it in my pocket, and with one last glance at Harriet, step outside with Rowan, closing the door behind me. “Are they here?”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness.” He presses his lips together as we walk. “They’re waiting for you. Her Majesty instructed me to come and get you. Will Miss Harriet be joining you?”
“No, she’s resting. Yesterday was a lot for her, and I’m not sure this is a conversation I want her to be a part of anyway.”
“I agree. Especially after William’s behaviour yesterday.”
I can practically feel the irritation buzzing off him. Over the past couple of weeks, he’s become increasingly fond of Harriet, and I’m not even sure she realises she’s obtained two very powerful father figures in my father and Rowan.
They’ll never replace the piece of shit that is her biological father, but that’s a good thing.
If William Sinclair is the standard for a father, then nobody needs that in their life.
“Good luck,” Rowan mutters, knocking twice at the door before straightening up and opening it. “His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince.”
The weight of the impending conversation is evident the moment I step into the room. The air is thick with the myriads of emotions and things left unsaid, all of which are skin-crawlingly negative, if the way my stomach clenches is anything to go by.
This is the last place I want to be.
Jasmine is the picture of wronged innocence. Her shoulders are drooped, her lips downturned. Her eyes are wide and shiny, almost as if she’s desperately trying to hold back tears.
Tears of anger, perhaps.
Any genuine upset she may feel comes from nowhere other than pure selfishness.
I wonder if she has any idea that her little act won’t work on me or my mother.
Rosalyn is staring at the table with her hands clenched in front of her, and that’s probably the best position she can take right now. Act the demure, wronged mother, as if she hasn’t been lying through her teeth for years.
The only one actually daring to look at me is William. His bravado clearly outnumbers his brains, given how we ended our conversation last night. At least he looks suitably concerned, but I won’t be falling for it today.
I don’t need to see the future to know how this conversation will go.
“How is she?” Mum asks, her gaze momentarily softening on me.
“Sleeping.” I sit down on the sofa opposite the Sinclairs. “She ate breakfast then went back to sleep shortly after.”
William looks between us. “Is something wrong with Harriet?”
I look at him darkly. “Yes. She’s exhausted from exerting herself last night and having to deal with the emotional fallout of her father moving to raise his hand against her.”
“I—” He stops when Rosalyn puts her hand on his knee.
“William was emotional last night,” she says, looking between both me and my mother. “We all were, given the situation. I hope you can forgive him.”
“His transgression is not ours to forgive,” Mum says firmly, her eyes narrowing at the other woman. “And if he wishes to apologise, I should hope he’s capable of doing it himself, not using his wife’s words for his benefit.”
“Of course, I’ll apologise,” William says, cutting Rosalyn off before she can say another word to piss off my mother. “I was hoping to do so at this meeting, but I understand if last night was overwhelming for her.”
Do you? is what I want to ask. Do you really fucking understand?
Do you even know her at all?
“Indeed,” my mother says, crossing her legs at the ankles and reaching for her tea. “I’m sure you have questions about what has occurred. Ask away.”
William and Rosalyn share a look, and the one he gives her is almost a warning to keep her mouth shut.
Jasmine, to her credit, hasn’t so much as squeaked.
How hard is she biting her tongue?
“How… did this come about?” William asks after a moment of consideration. “I wasn’t aware Harriet had made contact with you.”
“She didn’t,” I say.
He looks at me. “Then how…?”
“We met by coincidence.” I briefly recount the tale of our meeting in the park and all those thereafter. “Once she came here, Mum recognised her, and the rest is history. I can assure you that she had no idea she was coming to the palace that day.”
Rosalyn narrows her eyes. “Did you really believe her when she said she didn’t know who you were?”
I shrug a shoulder and lean back. “Does it matter? I didn’t know who she was.
Her knowing my identity only makes it more understandable why she went along with what I said, don’t you think?
Would you turn me down if I asked you to take my photos and you knew I had the ability to potentially shoot you to stardom as a photographer? ”
Jasmine opens her mouth, but William beats her to it. “Of course not,” he says quickly. “She would never have to work to find clients again. It does make sense.”
I hold out my hands as if to say, exactly.
“For what it’s worth,” my mother says, slowly setting her teacup back down. “She was very reluctant to admit to her identity. It took some… persuading. Isn’t that right, Finley?”
I nod. “She refused to speak entirely at one point.”
William’s lips tighten. “I will take your word for it. She agreed not to reveal her real name, and I would like to think my daughter is not a liar.”
How brave of him to admit that.
“Then you are free to think it.” A small smile creeps across her face.
“For not once has she ever admitted in my or Finley’s presence that her name is Harriet Sinclair.
To this day, those words have never passed her lips.
For all everyone knows, I’ve been operating on a complete fantasy and welcoming a random young woman into the family, so I was rather grateful for your confirmation last night. ”
His eyes flash, almost as if he realises he could have made a different decision.
Thank God he didn’t.
Rosalyn’s jaw clenches. “I would like to know how the engagement came about. We were under the impression that Jasmine would be His Royal Highness’ fiancée.”
“Yes,” Mum says slowly, dragging the word out.
“However, it was never guaranteed, nor did I ever confirm that I would grant Royal Assent to their betrothal. Even before Harriet returned, we hadn’t finalised anything that could lead you to assume it was a certainty.
It’s rather bold of you to assume otherwise. ”
“But—” Jasmine quickly catches herself under the sharp glare of my mother.
“An agreement was still made,” Rosalyn continues. “And forgive me for bringing it up, but given the circumstances surrounding her childhood, are you certain Harriet is the correct match for His Royal Highness?”
I freeze.
And… rage.
Rage unlike anything I’ve ever fucking felt courses through my veins.
How dare she?
How fucking dare she question Harriet’s right to be my wife?
Never in my life have I struck a woman, but for this vile creature in front of me—for Harriet—I might just damn well do it.
“Are you questioning my judgement, Mrs Sinclair?” The ice in my mother’s tone sends a chill through the room.
Rosalyn flinches. “Of course not, Your Majesty. I—I was just…expressing concern for your family.”
“Your concern is misplaced and unwarranted.”
“I apolo—”