by T. K. Leigh
Forgetting where I am and any sense of decorum, I dig my hands into my hair and bend over, releasing all my pent-up frustration with a piercing scream.
When the door bursts open seconds later, I straighten. O’Kelly’s panicked eyes find mine, Lieutenant Thomas close on his heels.
“What happened?” O’Kelly asks, scanning the room for any perceived threat, his hand on the gun in his holster, ready to immediately draw and fire.
Smoothing a hand down my hair, then my dress, I take a moment to compose myself. Grabbing my phone off the desk, I return it to Lieutenant Thomas. Minutes ago, I hated that he controlled who had access to me. Now I’m grateful for it.
“That was my mother,” I tell him.
His face blanches. It doesn’t take a genius to know precisely what that means. I have no doubt Anderson’s already briefed both men regarding her.
“I apologize, ma’am. The incoming call came from a hospital in New York. When she claimed it was about your friend, Chloe, I thought—”
“And I thank you for that. I had the same thought when you told me. From now on, the only people I want you to put through are from the numbers already stored in my phone. Even if it’s an emergency, my friends are more inclined to call from their cells.”
“Understood,” Lieutenant Thomas says, bowing his head slightly. “It’ll never happen again.”
I nod with an appreciative smile. “Thank you.”
I tap my fingernails against the arm of the chair as I sit in the waiting room of the palace physician’s office.
When I learned I’d be attended to by one of the “in-house” physicians throughout my pregnancy, as is the protocol, I assumed the appointments would take place in a private office located somewhere in the palace, similar to the nurse’s office at school, but on a much classier level.
Never did I expect to walk into an entire hospital wing within the palace walls. Apart from having a private waiting area reserved for immediate members of the royal family, it’s like every other medical complex I’ve been to. Sterile surfaces. Fluorescent lights. The smell of bleach and latex. It’s a small taste of normal in a life that’s anything but.
I steal a glance at the clock hanging over the doorway leading to the exam rooms, every tick seeming to echo and vibrate through me, almost mocking me. I try to tell myself it’s not a big deal. He’s only fifteen minutes late. Perhaps he got delayed at one event, which caused a ripple effect throughout his day. I know first-hand how one delay can put the rest of your day behind schedule.
But when the sound of a cell ringing echoes through the room, a premonition settles in my stomach that he’s not simply running late. I lift my eyes toward Lieutenant Thomas sitting beside Lieutenant O’Kelly in the far corner, remaining as discreet as possible.
He pulls the phone from the inside of his jacket pocket. “Ms. Tremblay’s line. This is Lieutenant Thomas.” He meets my gaze as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “Of course, sir.” He rises to his feet and walks toward me, holding out my cell. “It’s His Royal Highness.”
I take the phone and bring it up to my ear. Closing my eyes to fight back my tears, I attempt to collect myself. “You’re not going to make it, are you?” I manage to say, my tone even, emotionless.
“Nora…” Regret laces Anderson’s voice. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t important. And… Fuck!”
I picture him tugging at his hair. I’ve heard that tone before, and that’s precisely what he did.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeats. “But my grandmother fell ill and I must cover for her. She was scheduled to appear with the queen—”
“But she is the queen.”
“No. She’s the queen mother. I’m talking about the queen. The Queen of England. She flew in to attend a function at Westerly College. It was partly to show her support of the opening of the school of medicine, but also to try to help turn the tide on this referendum. And since my father is currently in Spain—”
“It now falls on your shoulders.”
“You have no idea how sorry I am, Nora. I promise to make it up to you. I’ll be at every other appointment, no matter what.”
I stare blankly at the wall in front of me. Today started with so much hope. So much possibility.
How could it go downhill so quickly?
“Please, Nora. Say something so I’m not sitting here wondering what’s going through your head. I swear to you, I won’t miss anything else baby related.”
“Like I told you earlier,” I begin after a protracted pause, “don’t make any promises you have no intention of keeping.”
I tear the phone away from my ear, jabbing the screen to end the call. Then I stand, Thomas and O’Kelly remaining stoic and unemotional. I hand the cell back to Thomas, keeping my shoulders squared and expression even.
“Can you tell them I’m ready to go in now?”
A flash of remorse crosses his face. “Would you like to wait? Perhaps call Her Highness Princess Esme to see if she’d be able to join you?”
I vehemently shake my head, never feeling so alone, despite constantly being surrounded by people. “That’s not necessary.”
I should get used to being alone now.
I may very well be alone for the foreseeable future.
Chapter Eighteen
Anderson
“Have you heard from her?” Creed asks, glancing into the rearview mirror as he drives faster than normal on the way back to my estate.
What a crap day this has turned out to be. I had every intention of being there for Nora. Was looking forward to seeing that first ultrasound of our baby, then devoting the rest of the afternoon and evening to her. It’s no secret we haven’t had much time to ourselves since arriving here three weeks ago.
But the second Bridge’s phone rang around lunchtime and he gave me a concerned look, I knew my plans had all gone up in smoke. If it were anyone else, I would have insisted someone other than me attend, perhaps Esme or one of my cousins, all of whom the royal household often calls upon to help when needed.
But the Queen of England is too important to send third or fourth in line to the crown. Hell, she’s too important to even consider sending the second in line, which was why it fell on my shoulders.
I check my phone, seeing my texts have been delivered but not read.
“No.”
Creed nods subtly.
After a few more moments of silence, I blurt out, “I’m a complete fuckup, aren’t I?”
“You had your reasons for missing her appointment,” he offers.
“But?” I say, sensing he’s holding back.
“Regardless, she also has every reason to be upset with you.”
“I know.” I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose, fighting against a headache, like I have been most of the day. “So what am I supposed to do? How do I make this right?”
He studies me for a beat in the mirror as he slows to a stop in front of my residence. “You grovel.” He puts the SUV into park and turns to face me. “And when you’re finished groveling, you grovel some more. That woman has not only sacrificed everything for you — her home, her friends, her job — she’s now carrying your child. I’m not sure you’ve ever shown her your appreciation for everything she’s done for you.”
I open my mouth to protest to the contrary, searching my brain for proof that I’ve shown her my appreciation. But nothing comes to mind. I’ve told her how grateful I am. I’ve showered her with gifts, but Nora’s not the type of woman who cares about material things.
How would I feel if our roles were reversed?
Probably exactly like Nora feels right now.
Alone.
Lost.
Betrayed.
Creed opens his door and darts around the SUV to open mine. I’m cautious as I step onto the ground, making sure I have my footing before placing my full weight on my legs. Once I straighten, he bows, then stands aside as I walk up the stairs and into the building.
“Your Highness,” my head butler greets me with a bow.
“Richard.”
“Ms. Tremblay is out back in the gardens. I thought perhaps—”
“Of course. Thank you.”
“Yes, sir.”
He bows again, then retreats. I pause in the foyer, running a hand over my face as I try to come up with something to say to Nora to make this better. Make this right.
It was only one appointment.
But to Nora, it was more than that.
It was about having me present, something I’ve done a shitty job of lately. I’m not sure how to balance all these new responsibilities the Crown has placed on me and being a good fiancé.
Now I understand why my father never remarried after my mother passed away. It’s impossible to balance both a relationship and running a country. No wonder most monarchs don’t marry for love but to simply produce the requisite heir and a spare.
But I don’t want that life for me.
My mother didn’t want that life for me, either.
Exhaling a long breath, I make my way out the back doors and through the gardens. I don’t even have to question where Nora is. I know. She was just as drawn to this spot as I was the first time I saw it. So I head straight for the overlook along the rocky cliffs.
As I approach, I slow, pausing to appreciate how beautiful she looks as she sits on the bench, gaze focused on the crashing waves below. The breeze blows through her hair, the moonlight illuminating her silhouette, making her appear ethereal and otherworldly. Like something from a different dimension.
Then my gaze shifts to what she holds in her hand — a grainy black-and-white photo, something that resembles a bean inside a dark space.
If I felt like an asshole earlier, it’s ten times worse now that I see the first picture of our baby.
I should have been there when she first saw it, too.
“Baby’s doing well,” she says evenly, not looking at me. “Measuring nine weeks, so that’s about right. And the heartbeat is strong, but because of my past…complications, the doctor wants to see me again in two weeks to make sure everything’s still progressing well. But don’t worry. I won’t expect you to make room for me in your hectic schedule to be there.”
I advance toward her, my eyes pleading. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to be there today.”
“I know.” She stands, leaving the ultrasound photo on the bench, taunting me. “Trust me. I know.” She faces me, revealing bloodshot eyes from what I can only assume to be hours of crying while I attended a gala thrown for the Queen of England.
“For the last several hours, I’ve berated myself for being upset with you for breaking your promise. It’s not like you didn’t have a good excuse. But what happens next time when some foreign minister comes into town? Or the president? Or someone else more important than me? Lord knows that list is miles long.”
“Nora…,” I say again, stepping toward her, but she holds up her hand, stopping me.
“I get that you have responsibilities. I’ve had this ‘duty to the crown’ edict ingrained into my head every damn second since I stepped off that airplane. I know all about your duty. And, apparently, my sole duty is to provide an heir and a spare, making me feel like I’m nothing more than a walking uterus.”
“You’re so much more than that. You know that.”
“Do I? Because these past few weeks, you’ve done little to make me feel that, Anders. I’ve never felt so goddamn alone in my life. I left the only home I’ve known for you. Left my friends. For you. And now I’m going through this pregnancy, which scares me absolutely shitless. All. For. You.”
With each word she speaks, her voice becomes louder and more choked with emotion, tears falling down her cheeks.
“If I want to be with you, I have no option but to give you children. That’s part of the deal of marrying the future king, something I wish you’d have told me. After everything I went through last time…” She raises her face to the sky, her eyes glistening against the moonlight. Then she levels a stare back at me. “But I’m willing to put these fears aside. For you. Willing to sacrifice having my best friends at my side when I all but sell my soul to this monarchy. For you. What have you given up to be with me?”
I open my mouth, unsure what to say, but she answers for me.
“Nothing, Anders. You’ve sacrificed nothing.”
The vein in her neck pulses against her skin, her muscles taut, anger and despair mixing in a lethal combination on her face.
“I miss my home. Miss the stench of New York, even on garbage day. Miss my friends. But you don’t seem to care about any of that.” She pinches her lips together in a tight line as she crosses her arms over her stomach, seeming to shrink into herself. “Maybe your grandmother was right. Maybe I am too weak for this.”
“What do you mean?” My gaze flames with fury and surprise. “When did she say that?”
She shrugs. “At tea a few weeks ago. The ink on our engagement announcement was barely even dry when she pulled me aside to tell me I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“She doesn’t speak for me. You know that.”
“Just the rest of the royal household.” She throws up her hands. “Hell, the rest of this entire fucking country.”
“What do you want me to do? Walk away from this? Because I will. For you, Nora, I will.”
She swipes the tears from her cheeks. “I would never ask you to do that. As much as I can tell certain things about this life aggravate you, I saw your face as we were landing and you laid eyes on your country for the first time in a while.” She smiles sadly. “It’s the same way I feel when I see the Manhattan skyline. You love your home. You love your country. And when I walked off that plane on your arm and caught my first glimpse of Prince Gabriel, I realized you were born to be king. To lead. You said it yourself. You have the opportunity to do good not just for your country, but for all of Europe. Maybe even the world. After all…” She swallows hard. “With great power comes great purpose.” Her eyes lock with mine, a beat passing between us. Then she lowers her head. “But when I saw the photos of you with the Queen of England today, it finally hit me.”
“What did?”
She lifts her gaze back to mine, smiling sadly. “That the man I’ve seen during public events and in the media is a complete stranger to me.” Her chin trembles, her words as difficult for her to say as they are for me to hear. “That I don’t know you anymore. That I don’t know the man I’m supposed to marry in a few weeks.”
I step toward her, clutching her cheeks in my hands, swiping her tears away with my thumbs. “Yes, you do. You’re one of the few people who does know me. Who knows who I really am. Who knows Anderson North. Everything else, this person who has to cut ribbons, kiss babies, and make speeches… Prince Gabriel… That’s not really me.”
“That may be true, but lately, that’s the only person I’ve seen. How am I supposed to share my bed with a stranger? How am I supposed to marry a stranger?” She peers into my eyes, begging me for an answer I can’t give. Then she steps away and turns toward the house.
“Where does this leave us?” I call after her, biting on my lower lip to stop my chin from quivering. “I don’t want you to walk away from all of this, either. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here. You saved my life.” An ache bubbles in my throat, the pain excruciating.
Why do I feel like she’s slipping away with nothing to anchor her to me?
Like I’m losing her?
Like this world is tearing us apart?
“And you saved mine,” she admits sadly. “But I’m not sure it’s enough anymore. I’m not sure I’m enough.”
“You are.” I advance on her, framing her small face in my large hands once again, holding onto her like she’s a lifesaver and I’m being tossed around by a tumultuous sea. “You’re more than enough. You claim I was born to be king. There’s no doubt in my mind you were meant to be my queen. That you are strong enough fo
r this role.”
She searches my eyes, as if they contain the answer she’s been seeking. Then she pushes out of my hold again. “At one time, I would have believed that.”
“And now?”
“Now…” She exhales, licking her lips as she collects her thoughts. “Now I need time to think. I hope you can at least give me that after everything I’ve given you.”
I want to argue that we don’t have the luxury of time. That in mere weeks, we’re supposed to walk down the aisle of the National Cathedral and get married. But she has a point. After all the sacrifices she’s made for me, time to think is the least I can give her.
“Okay.”
“Thank you.” With a sad smile, she turns from me and walks through the gardens.
“I love you, Nora,” I call out after her.
She pauses, but doesn’t immediately respond, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. Finally, her purple-blue eyes meet mine.
Eyes I once dreamt about before I even knew her name.
Eyes I’ve been lucky enough to wake up to nearly every morning for the past several months.
Eyes I’ve noticed lose more and more of their luster since we arrived here.
“And I love Anderson. With all my heart. But I’m expected to marry Prince Gabriel.” She shakes her head. “That man is a stranger to me.”
Chapter Nineteen
Nora
The sun peeks through the heavy drapes in the bedroom I typically share with Anderson.
Or is it Prince Gabriel?
I don’t even know anymore.
All last night, I’d tossed and turned, replaying our argument in my mind. Was I too hard on him? He did have a valid excuse for missing my doctor’s appointment.
But it wasn’t just a missed doctor’s appointment. That was simply the impetus that made me realize something I’ve been struggling with since our engagement was announced.
That I’ve rarely seen the man I fell in love with.
