Cursed be the Crown (Cruel Fortunes Book 1)

by RAE STAPLETON

  “Would you be after goin’ with me then? I guess maybe Liam found his own way back. Ye can ring whoever ye want from my place, and there’s plenty of room and food.”

  I was about to object when I heard raised voices—one in particular made me grimace. I gripped my suitcase more firmly and looked around Cullen’s hulking frame. Nick was arguing with a security guard. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen me.

  “I would love to go with you. Do you live here in Monaco?”

  “Dublin, but we’re vacationing—my parents and my brother and I. We’re in Cannes right now. It was the closest hospital to the island we were docked at.”

  “You brought me here?”

  “I did. Yer man followed, of course, tryin’ to take over the situation, so I left.”

  The yelling had escalated now. I peeked nervously around again. He was gonna have me locked away in some psych ward. Cullen looked behind him at Nick and the security guard and then down at me.

  “Discharged, huh?”

  “I don’t want to go with him.”

  “I don’t blame you.” He took my suitcase from my hand and slid an arm around my neck to hide me. “Let’s hope I don’t have to fight anyone to get ye out of here.”

  Nick’s voice was growing louder and my palms were starting to sweat.

  “Our place is just outside of Antibes. Is that all right, or would ye prefer I took ye elsewhere?”

  “No, that’s great,” I said, grabbing him by the arm and tugging. “Please, let’s hurry.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  N ick’s shouts echoed behind me as we headed for the automatic hospital door. The escaped mental patient, that was how he was referring to me. The nerve of him. Never in my life had I wanted to hit somebody so badly.

  Fortunately, I knew how to pick my battles. I’d find a way to even up with that bastard later. I knew where all his bodies were buried. Figuratively, of course, all though after recent developments, who knew, maybe there were real bodies.

  I could always call his father, Bexx Sr. He and Nick got along like oil and water. I was sure Bexx would find a way to punish him if he knew what he’d done to me.

  I looked up at Cullen who was staring off into the distance. I would have paid a pretty penny for his thoughts. No one wanted a questionable stranger sleeping in the next room, even if I did only weigh a hundred pounds.

  We were headed toward the back of the parking lot, where only two vehicles sat, one of them being a top-of-the-line Ferrari.

  I glanced over at him, fixating on his stubble, an assortment of silvery blond, jet black and red. I hadn’t pegged him as a pretty boy, but then again, I did seem to have a type. Unfortunately.

  I frowned at the thought that Cullen was in any way like Nick.

  “Ye look unhappy. Do ye have somethin’ against Land Rovers? “

  I smiled as he opened the door and helped me in.

  “Hardly. I like down to earth. Not that it would appear that way based on the company I kept.”

  “I like down to earth as well. I also like a good winch, He said, with a wink. “As you can see, I get myself into a jam every now and then.”

  I laughed and climbed inside the truck. “Yes, well I apologize for said jam.”

  It felt good to laugh… it had been too long. I fought down the beginnings of a yawn. For the first time in how long? Days? I felt almost safe. The tight coil of worry inside me loosened. Part of it was the adrenaline of escaping Nick’s clutches, and some of it was the beautiful French scenery. I felt I could almost tilt my head back and go to sleep.

  When I opened my eyes next, we were pulling through a private gate, surrounded by parasol pines and orange trees, facing an elegant, provincial-style villa. A front terrace faced us, and a handsome man smoking a pipe waved down at us.

  “That was a quick drive!” I noted, as he turned off the ignition.

  “You drifted off.” He got out and came around to assist me. “I talked for about two minutes before I realized ye were really out.”

  “Oh,” I said, softly. “I’m sorry.”

  He smiled. “I’ve put myself to sleep at times.”

  I grinned. “I doubt that. So, this is your family’s vacation home? I feel funny about intruding.”

  “Never ye mind with that. Come on.”

  I followed Cullen inside and across the foyer. My eyes gravitated to the large windows and doors offering rosy, hopeful beams from the radiating sun. Everything curved—the stairs, the doorways, and the windows—or was it my vision?

  The large room suddenly felt airless and began to sway, as if the floorboards were collapsing. Not again. My knees were beginning to give, but I couldn’t steady myself. I reached out for the wall in order to stay on my feet and stumbled, but Cullen was quick to scoop me up.

  “Come now. The bed is much softer than the floor. Trust me, I’ve tested out both.” I could feel his muscles flex beneath his soccer jersey as he lifted me.

  I was so focused on his biceps that I startled when I heard a woman’s voice to my left.

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What have ye there?”

  Cullen swiveled around slightly and I could see a woman standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking like she’d stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine. She wore an expensive-looking green sundress. Her curly, auburn hair was tied back at the nape of her neck and topped by a wide brimmed hat. A gold wristwatch and pearl earrings completed the look. She stared for a moment longer, obviously trying to absorb the situation.

  “Hello there!” she said at last, rotating her gaze from me to Cullen. “I rang ye on the mobile. Not that it did me a lick of good. Everythin’ all right?”

  “Grand. Remember Sophia from the Lérins Islands?”

  “I do. I’m Lucille. Lovely to meet ye, again,” the woman said.

  “You too,” I stammered, although truthfully, I didn’t remember her at all.

  Cullen cleared his throat. “Well, now that introductions are done, ye can put yer bunny teeth away. I’ll be back in no time at all.”

  “It’s nice to see I raised such a gallant fella, but tell me ye didn’t steal her from the hospital, son?”

  Cullen turned and smiled. “I’ll explain in a moment.”

  “All right. Lay her down in the guestroom next to yours—she looks like she could use a rest—and then come and fill me in. I’m only yer mother, ye know.”

  We came to a small, cozy room and he set me on the bed where floral patterns ran rampant and the pillows were large and fluffy, tempting me to drift off.

  “Do you think I could borrow that phone ye mentioned? I need to call my great grandmother.”

  “To be sure. Rest here a moment whilst I grab it.”

  I closed my eyes to wait and woke sometime later to a voice wafting down the hall. I paused and listened; it sounded like Cullen speaking. Curious as a cat, I climbed out of bed and tiptoed out the door as stealthily as I could manage.

  Cullen’s voice jumped out at me. “I tell ye, Liam, there’s something about her.”

  “I can see that.” Someone else replied. “She’s a fierce, fine thing but a wee bit daft, don’t ye think? Ye heard her man at the hospital, she thinks she’s from the nineteenth century.”

  “Don't be actin’ the maggot,” Cullen said, with a hint of anger coloring his voice. “She’s been through hell, and that man’s opinions not worth shite to me. Anyway, she’s the girl I told ye about—the one in the dream.”

  “If bullshit was music, you'd be a brass bleedin' band.”

  “No. I couldn’a forget a girl like that. Daft as it sounds, it’s her.”

  I poked my head in. I didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping but I couldn’t resist looking to see who he was talking to. Cullen’s back was to me. He was staring out the window. A dark-haired man sat in an oversized chair. This had to be his brother, the one he’d been looking for. They looked nothing a like although they were both handsome. Liam’s head turned as if he sensed my presence, a long-jagged
scar trailed down the side of his face. I jerked back out of sight.

  “It’s been years since I heard ye speak of your dreams. Ye still havin’ them.”

  “Aye. Lately I’m in this underground room. It’s full of cobwebs, and baubles.”

  “I hope ye knew enough to pocket one or two.” The dark-haired man teased.

  “Honest as the day is long, aren’t ye? She’s there, Sophia, but her hair—it’s different—curly as a pig’s tail.”

  I bit my lower lip and leaned my head tight against the wall. No way. How did he know about Sapphira?

  “There’s a man after her with a huge silver viper ring on his finger. He carries a cane. Somethin’ inside of me needs to protect her but I always die.”

  Conrad! I covered my mouth to stifle the gasp.

  “What was that?” Cullen asked.

  “Probably Ma. So, did ye tell her about the death thing?”

  “I didn’t. She hardly needs to hear my crazy. Speaking of which, I should go check on her.”

  There was movement in the room now. I scooted back up the hall and leaped onto the bed as fast as I could manage. I was lying still when someone entered the room. Cullen, I presumed.

  I opened my eyes and feigned a yawn. His cool, laid back smile immediately put me at ease. He carried a tray set with a floral teapot.

  “I’m glad ye’re awake. Ma wet the tea for us.”

  “I fell asleep again.”

  “That you did. Thought I’d let ye be.”

  “Thank you,” I said, sitting up. “For everything.”

  He handed me a dainty cup and saucer. I wanted to ask him about his dream, but how could I without mentioning that I’d been listening? The tea hadn’t even cooled when Cullen’s mother knocked and entered, carrying a plate of pastries and scones.

  “Well, hallo there. I thought ye could both use a little sustenance. I also brought yer suitcase up in case you wanted to be a touch more comfortable.”

  “Thank you.”

  She left the room, and Cullen held the plate out toward me.

  “Your mother is lovely.” I paused, playing with my pastry.

  “And very pushy,” he laughed. “So ye best eat up.”

  I took a bite and swallowed. “I’m sure she thinks I’m crazy.”

  Cullen’s smile grew strained. “No different than the rest of us.”

  I paused, taking a bite. “The truth is I do feel crazy.” I swallowed hard. “You and your family have been so sweet but I should probably leave.”

  He handed me a phone. “How about we start with a call? If ye’re family is anythin’ like mine, they’re mad with fear.”

  “Very true,” I said, accepting the phone.

  Fifteen minutes later, I hung up, drying my eyes just as Cullen returned.

  “All good?”

  “Yes. My great-grandmother said to thank you and your family. She’s very grateful for your heroism as well as your family’s hospitality, as am I. It was a good thing I called though—she was ready to send out the National Guard. My best friend, Leslie Lovari, was also there so I got to chat with her too. Apparently, Nick phoned them both, screaming I’d run off. So, Leslie, who is practically family to us drove up to calm Gigi down.”

  “That guy. What a wanker.”

  “Right?! On top of that, my passport’s missing. It’s not in my luggage. Nick must have it, so I can’t book a flight home yet. I guess I’ll need to arrange a hotel until I can track it down. Gigi is going to wire me money.”

  “Nonsense. Ye’ll stay with us.”

  “That’s thoughtful, but I couldn’t impose, any further that is.”

  “Ma would never consider it proper to send ye off, and believe me, ye’re better off not settin’ her off. She’s tiny but fierce.”

  I smiled, imagining the petite woman I’d met overpowering me, and then again, there was Gigi so maybe I’d stay put and avoid the conflict.

  “I’ll run ye back to the hospital tomorrow after ye’ve had a bit more rest and we’ll track down what’s-his-name. Of course, that’s on one condition,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  “What’s that?”

  “That I get to smack him in the gob if he dares to lay a finger on ye again.”

  I smiled. “I can agree to that.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  T he sun shone as we headed east on Boulevard du Littoral. Cullen rolled the windows down; the ocean breeze blew through my hair. Cannes Hospital lay behind us. The excitement of getting my passport back left me feeling euphoric as we pulled into the O’Kelley’s drive.

  Nick’s absence at the hospital meant I didn’t have to deal with Cullen confronting him, although part of me had relished the thought. My passport had been there. I was looking forward to booking my flight home. Or was I? I looked over at Cullen, who was humming to the radio. He couldn’t carry a tune but he sure was fine. Perhaps that’s why I’d agreed to come back to his family’s vacation home.

  “I’m gonna start dinner right after I take a quick dip in the ocean.”

  “The ocean, really?” I questioned. The idea of water didn’t hold much appeal for me at the moment—probably the near drowning.

  “There’s a hot tub if you’d prefer,” he replied, getting out of his truck.

  “I think I’ll just make a spectator sport out of it but first I am gonna throw on a dress and I need to call the airline.”

  “Do you like steak?”

  “As long as it’s not overdone.”

  “A woman after my own heart,” he laughed, opening the door and stepping back so I could go in first. “We can look up flights on my iPad when ye’re ready.”

  As I rummaged through my luggage, I spotted my cell phone. It flashed low battery at me from the inside netting. I could have already looked up flights. One week in the nineteenth century and I’d forgotten the perks of modern technology. I changed into a light summery dress and wrapped a colorful batik scarf around my hair. Then returned to the patio.

  Cullen stood, dripping wet, hair tousled, over the barbeque as it smoked, wafting the delicious aroma of grilled meat. Spatula in one hand and beer in the other, he smiled and motioned to the hot tub. “Sorry. I didn’t wait for you to spectate. I was getting hungry.”

  “Now worries. I’ll take in the ocean view instead.”

  “Would ye fancy a glass of wine?” Cullen asked. “Or perhaps whisky or a pint of the black stuff?”

  “Wine sounds good,” I said with a grin.

  “Wimp,” Cullen teased.

  I smiled. “I don’t drink a lot of hard alcohol, and not to insult you but Guinness is too bitter. Not to mention, it ruins my appetite.”

  Cullen laughed again and said, “Ahh, so yer not a fan of the liquid dinner.”

  “Not unless it’s a protein shake,” I quipped.

  “Not a lot of protein shakes happenin’ around here.” Cullen smirked. “There’s some fancy cheese and crackers on the table that Ma put together and I took the liberty of pullin’ up all of the available flights leaving over the next couple of days, although we’d be happy to have ye stay longer.”

  “That’s sweet. Thank you,” I said, picking up his iPad.

  He left while I looked them over and returned with an empty glass, a bottle of red, two plates and a large bowl of salad.

  “There was no white chilled.”

  “That’s great. I prefer red.”

  “So, what’s a day in the life of Sophia like,” he asked, flipping the steaks.

  I started to answer when a man in a flashy bathing suit bottom stepped out the door.

  “Old man, what in the bloody hell are ye wearin’?”

  “Cullen. Bollix. I didn’t know ye were back. The banana hammock’s your Ma’s brilliant idea.” He looked flustered as he moved to stand behind a chair.

  “This fine, male specimen is my father, John O’Kelley. Da, this is Sophia, the girl from Sainte Marguerite Island.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. O’Kel
ley.”

  “‘Tis good to see ye lookin’ so well. This fella here was worried about ye after that fall.”

  “I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble.”

  “Well, now, nothin’ to be done about that.”

  Lucille snickered as she walked out behind her husband and wrapped a towel around his waist. “‘Tis dinnertime, ye fool. There’s no sun.” She kissed his shoulder and then directed her gaze at me. “Sorry for invadin’ yer privacy, dear.”

  Her red hair was swept up in a neat French twist that showed off her long neck and single bare shoulder to perfection. She seemed young to have two, fully grown men as sons.

  “I apologize I’m not in better shape,” John added taking a seat. “I’m not in the habit of findin’ such a fine thing in the house, aside from my wife, that is.”

  “Nice save, and let’s be keepin’ it that way,” Lucile added, with a chuckle.

  “I appreciate the hospitality.”

  “Sit down, Ma, and join us for a drink?” Cullen said. “We’ve cracked yer favorite wine.”

  “Sounds grand,” Lucille said, darting back inside.

  I took a seat across from John with my back to the house. Lucile returned, smiling, and filled her glass, topping mine up as well.

  “To our new guest,” she said, dropping into the seat next to her husband.

  “And,” I said, and lifted my glass, “to Cullen, for saving my life. I am ever so grateful.”

  Cullen’s grin deepened. “Slainte.

  Lucille looked down at the tablet screen on the table.

  “Goin’ home so soon, dear?”

  “Yes. It’s beautiful here, but I need to get back.”

  “I’ll drink to that. We’ve been wanderin’ for a month now. Cullen and Liam only joined us last week, but the lot of us are headin’ home in a week. Cullen’s off to restore a castle somewhere in… where is it you’re goin’, son?”

  “London, Ma.”

  “Right, and the rest of us are heading on to Dublin.”

  “Liam too? I thought he was after takin’ Morai somewhere?” Cullen lifted the grill’s lid and the mouthwatering smell of the meat poured out, teasing my appetite. “Morai’s my grandmother.” He informed me.