CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – FINN #2
Marina pushes the door open, and once again, I nod at her.
“Thank you.” I step inside his office to see him bowing and Rosalyn in a small curtsey. “I didn’t realise you weren’t alone. Am I disturbing you?”
“Of course not, Your Royal Highness.” William jerks towards his wife. “Rosalyn, go to bed.”
She startles, much the way he just did. “But I—”
He cuts her off with a dark look. Her lips press into a thin line that makes anger spark in her eyes, but she doesn’t argue. She merely inclines her head towards me with a, “Good night, Your Royal Highness,” and disappears from the room.
The door clicks shut behind her, and I stare at it for a moment before turning my attention to William. “Are you sure I’m not disturbing you?”
“No, of course not. How could you? It’s an honour to have you here, no matter the time of day, Your Royal Highness.”
“Oh, there’s no need to be so formal. I’m not here on any official business, William.”
He blinks at me, and his hand trembles when he reaches for his empty glass. “You’re not?”
“Do you often do business in the small hours of the morning?”
“Depends on the client. Time zones sometimes make it a necessity.” He chuckles, but there’s no warmth in it. “Can I get you a drink?”
“No, thank you. You go on ahead, though.” I wave a hand. “Mind if I sit down?”
“Of course, of course. Make yourself comfortable.” He motions to the chairs on the other side of his desk, but with his vacated, I walk around to his side and sit in his chair instead.
He turns and pauses the moment he sees me, but wisely, doesn’t say a word. Instead of asking me to move, he simply pulls up one of the chairs he’d intended for me to sit in and takes one of those.
Incredible how easily he yields to one with more power than him.
“So,” he begins, eyeing me warily. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this late-night visit?”
“Do you really not have any idea why I’m here?” I raise my eyebrows and reach for a pen to twirl it between my fingers.
William’s throat bobs, and he takes a short drink from his glass. “If I had to wager, I’d guess it has something to do with my daughters’ altercation earlier today.”
“Exactly.” My stomach twists, and as if he can feel my mood souring, he flinches. “Is that truly the girl you raised with the intention of making her my wife? One who would strike another for no good reason? Tell me, do you think so little of the Askurg Royal Family?”
“No, of course not. I do not condone her actions whatsoever, but—”
“But, what?” I raise my chin. “She hit Harriet. In broad daylight, in public, your daughter raised her hand and struck my fiancée. The Crown Princess-in-waiting. I’m fucking dying to hear your justification for that, William.”
He freezes. “Jasmine…” He finishes on a sigh. “There is no justification for her actions. Regardless of provocation, there is no reason for her to have resorted to violence.”
“Provocation? Are you suggesting that Harriet somehow coerced her sister into hitting her?”
“Jasmine said that Harriet said some… unsavoury things.” He swallows again, clutching his glass tightly. “Things regarding your relationship that, forgive me, I do not wish to repeat in front of you.”
Well.
That would be true.
It would also be true that I don’t think she went far enough in that provocation, but I’m hardly going to tell him that.
“Is that it? I cannot possibly imagine Hattie saying anything that would result in such treatment.”
“She also made comments regarding Jasmine’s legitimacy. That she was only adopted because Harriet had disappeared, and if it weren’t for that, she would have nothing.”
Adoption bullshit aside… “She would be correct in saying that, would she not?”
William stills.
“Can you honestly say that if Harriet hadn’t gone missing and her mother were still here that you’d have sought to adopt another daughter?
” I ask, holding my hands out. “You certainly wouldn’t have remarried.
My mother has told me how you and Francesca had once hoped for a second child—a son.
If you’d adopted a child together, I’d be so bold as to assume you’d prefer a son.
You adopted Jasmine merely because you believed Harriet to be dead, no? ”
He opens his mouth to reply, and I raise my eyebrows.
“Not exactly,” he finally says, somewhat shakily. “O—of course, you are correct that I likely wouldn’t have sought to adopt another daughter if those terrible things hadn’t happened to Harriet and her mother, but there’s no way to say for certain.”
“Oh, of course.” I drop my hands again and sigh, leaning my head back against the chair. “And I don’t mean to offend you by saying that. Personally, I can’t imagine Harriet saying something so cruel. Can you?”
“I… I’m afraid I can’t answer that, Your Royal Highness. I thought I knew my daughter, but after your secret engagement, I believe I don’t know her at all.”
“That would be your fault, William.”
Once again, he freezes.
“She’s been here for more than two years and she’s gotten… what? Scraps of attention when she does something you deem acceptable? Like taking the blame for Jasmine’s wrongdoings?”
Panic flitters across his face, and he opens his mouth to respond, but I beat him to it.
“Oh, don’t deny it. You see, you might not listen to your daughter, but I do.
I listen to every word she tells me, and I believe her.
That’s why I don’t buy the story that Jasmine was so provoked by Harriet that all she could do was resort to violence.
” I link my fingers together and stretch them out in front of me, cracking my knuckles.
“Harriet has been nothing but provoked since the day she returned to St Peters, and she has yet to strike anyone. And not once has anyone tried to protect her. Yet one little slight towards Jasmine and you’re rushing to excuse your younger daughter’s actions with a consideration you’ve never shown to your eldest.”
“Our bonds are very different. I mostly raised Jasmine. There’s twenty years unaccounted for in my relationship with Harriet, and—”
“That’s a coward’s excuse.” The words come out harsher than I intend, and I sit up straight, staring at him.
“It’s a weak sack of bullshit, and you know it.
You’ve erased Francesca from this house, and I don’t doubt you’d have happily continued living as if Harriet never existed if she hadn’t come back.
If Her Majesty had approved Jasmine as my fiancée as you’d intended, would you have ever come clean about Harriet’s return?
Or would you have sent her away to live under a secret name for the rest of her life?
You used and continue to use her trust fund against her, after all, so I wouldn’t put it past you. ”
He sits upright and slams his hand on the desk. “Your Royal Highness, that—”
“Get your daughter in line.” My cold words reverberate through the room.
“I do not care if Harriet kicks her, bites her, or runs her over with a freight train in front of an entire crowd of people on live television. I do not care how ‘provoked’ Jasmine believes herself to be. After everything she’s done to Harriet, she can take it. ”
“That’s hardly fair.”
“Not fair? Might I remind you that your daughter physically assaulted someone who is soon to be a member of the Royal Family? That she’s lying in bed in this house right now through nothing more than Harriet’s sheer grace?”
His grip on his glass tightens with a twitch, and his whitening knuckles tell me everything I need to know about the temper he’s trying to keep under control.