His to Princess

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His to Princess Page 17

by Theodora Taylor


  “Do not overstep your bounds, Hervé,” Aldrich warns his uncle with narrowed eyes. “The union of our two countries formed by the marriage of my parents does not give you the right to decide who takes the throne. That right has, and always will, fall to the royal family of Victoire.”

  “You have already brought shame on the family by announcing your engagement to a woman you impregnated out of wedlock. And you said the bad boy prince had gone. Shrug all you like, nephew, but you must be aware that if she doesn’t convert to Catholicism before the birth, the twins will be illegitimate. Do you understand what that means, nephew? Your children will never succeed you on the throne. You’ve effectively killed the family line.” Hervé answers. “At least my Louis could ensure the family’s future.”

  “So she’ll convert,” Bernard says again, but his back is tense, like he’s caught in a trap.

  Aldrich swallows. Even if he could get Talia to talk to him right now, she would never be open to such a huge undertaking. And yes, he does remember this requirement, and yes, Hervé’s threat is real. The twins could be illegitimate. How could he have forgotten this law?

  “She’ll convert,” Aldrich says with more grit than he feels.

  “If you’re so sure, why don’t we ask her,” His uncle says. “Let us speak with this young lady, Mademoiselle Talia.” Duke Hervé had never gotten the memo about “mademoiselle” falling out of fashion both here and in France, and his stress on Talia’s name makes the title sound even more diminutive. “But even if she agrees, she will have to do it impossibly fast, before the birth. And twins, they’re sometimes born early, aren’t they?”

  Aldrich glares at his uncle, but gives him a curt nod.

  “Dear nephew you know I only want what’s best for my sister and our family,” Hervé clasps his hands together. “So, if your lovely Mademoiselle agrees, and is willing to take on all the coursework and commitment required to complete the conversion before the birth—if you even find a pastor willing to fast-track the process—I will support this marriage with all my heart. But if she doesn’t…”

  The duke cocks his head, his eyes taking on a snake-like glint. Later, Aldrich will think it’s almost as if he were cueing what happened next.

  There’s a sharp knock on the room’s open doorway, followed by Matthis rushing in…

  He takes only a brief survey of the players in the room, before crossing it to whisper into Prince Aldrich’s ear, “Sir, something terrible has happened.”

  Chapter 27

  “Papy, you have to take me back!” Talia cries over the grinding motorboat engine. Salty ocean wind whips at her face, and the twins jiggle around in her belly as the speedboat bounces across the waves.

  This is bad. This is so bad. She still can’t quite believe it. Papy popping up like a phantom on the beach during her daily walk with Pascal! His quick, “Pardon dar,” before snapping a pair of handcuffs on her poor guard. He’d then thrown a flour sack over the man’s head, cinching it tight, before grabbing Talia by the arm and guiding her as fast as she could waddle toward a waiting motor boat.

  She’d gone with him. She’d been too shocked to do anything else. But now Talia is beginning to have grave reservations. “Papy, seriously! We need to go back before you get in trouble.”

  “Silence petite sistah, we not gwan back,” Papy says, his eyes resolute on the horizon.

  But Talia can’t be silent. She’d spent Sunday reviewing the Victoire law books in the royal library, looking for passages to help her out of this predicament. She’d focused on kidnapping—after all, hadn’t she been abducted by Aldrich and taken to the palace against her will? Unfortunately, she hadn’t found anything useful for her specific situation, but she did discover that kidnapping a member of the royal family or household staff is an offense punishable by death. Even worse, the death penalty in Victoire hasn’t changed since the 1900s: it’s still death by public hanging. And Talia is technically a member of the Prince Regent’s staff—she’d even gotten an official badge stating it on her second day on the job.

  “Papy, this is dangerous!” she cries over the noise. “Please go back now, and we can convince them not to arrest you.

  “Trankility,” Papy says.

  “How can I be tranquil?” she demands. “Seriously, Papy. If anything happens to you…”

  “Hush baby gran. Ev’ting be fine.”

  Talia wants to protest some more, but she has a dangerously sick feeling in her stomach to go along with her fear. Apparently, the twins aren’t huge fans of this wild boat ride right after a meal.

  She closes her eyes, trying hard to focus on not hurling as they get further and further from Châteauneuf Victoire.

  Thankfully, the boat eventually slows. And when Talia opens her eyes and looks up, she sees they are approaching the lush green island of Terre d’Or. They make their way to the eastern harbor: a small port in deep enough waters for commercial boats to dock. It’s also the home of Suzette’s, their favorite curry restaurant. Talia scoots over, getting ready to grab onto the dock, but even though the boat is slowing, Papy doesn’t stop.

  “Papy, where are you taking us?”

  They continue past the dock, past Suzette’s, past the little road that leads to Papy’s neighborhood around the vanilla fields. A natural outcropping of rocks pop up at the end of the harbor, and Papy skirts around that, too, only to steer the boat directly toward a rock wall covered with climbing orchids.

  “Wait a minute, what are you—?!”

  Talia grabs her seat, bracing for impact, but the hanging vines push away like an exotic curtain and the boat glides past. There are no rocks in this part of the wall, she realizes as they drift into a dark tunnel, high and wide enough for the boat to pass through.

  Papy cuts the motor and they slice silently through the darkness, until the light slowly returns.

  “Oh my goodness!” Talia gasps when she sees what’s on the other side. It’s a small cove, closed in on all sides by thick foliage and rock walls, with mangrove trees digging their long roots into the sand, and a tall waterfall splashing softly down on the other end. “Papy this is amazing, why didn’t you bring me here before?”

  “I want to, but de babies come and you busy busy…” he says.

  The air is dense like that of a greenhouse, but still fresh from the salty sea. He paddles the boat towards the sandy beach, and helps Talia out into ankle deep water.

  “Come wit me,” Papy says. Talia follows him across the soft, warm sand, her body still listing from the long boat ride. “Baby gran, I gwan make you smile like nice perfect day,” he says.

  “Happy, like a perfect day?” she asks, translating as best she can.

  “Oui, oui, come see.” He holds out an arm to present a small cave on the edge of the beach. It’s stocked with blankets, firewood, mosquito nets, bottles of water, soap, and oil. There are even a few of the books she left at his house.

  “Wait a minute…we’re hiding here? Papy, you need to explain everything. Now.”

  “Oki oki oki,” Papy says, squatting down on the sand. Talia tries to do the same but ends up rolling onto her butt, and decides she prefers it that way.

  “Duke Hervé ask me deliver you,” he says. “Duke give me canoe la.”

  He gestures at the motorboat.

  “I was wondering where you got the boat. So the duke, the Duke of Diamant, gave you a motorboat and sent you to kidnap me? Well, that’s strange,” she says.

  “No, no kidnap. Deliver.” Papy says.

  “Deliver.”

  “Save. From de boy king. He want his own boy king. He say queen no Catholic, den no king.”

  “Wait, so he hired you to kidnap—”

  “No kidnap.”

  “Okay—deliver me—so he can put his own son on the throne?”

  “Nice, yes? You leave de prince, you gwan home. I save me ‘land. I save Terre d’Or.”

  “How’s that Papy? I don’t understand.”

  Papy leans forward, lo
oking Talia square in the face.

  “Baby gran. You et me, we rest here two, tree week. Prince Diaman’ become King of Victoire. Den,” he raises his shoulders happily. “Den baby gran go home, and Terre d’Or stay Terre d’Or!”

  By the very happy look on Papy’s face, it sounds like the Duke of Diamant promised to stop the construction on Terre d’Or if Papy helped him oust Aldrich from the throne. And somehow, removing Talia would make that possible.

  Which is strange, but not as worrisome as the Terre d’Or issue. Talia may not trust Aldrich, but she trusts Hervé even less.

  “Papy, how do you know the duke won’t build the resorts anyway?” she asks. “Those resorts are very important to him.”

  “Duke promise me. He promise. His own self.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Talia says as Papy busies himself unwrapping a pack of water bottles. “The Duke of Diamant promised you exactly what you wanted if you’d ‘save’ me and ruin his nephew’s coronation?”

  Papy nods.

  Talia’s mother once said if an agreement offers you the exact terms you want, you better look double hard at the fine print.

  “Did he give you anything in writing?”

  “We shake on it. Gentlemen’s agreement. Der no reason for him to lie,” Papy says, handing her a bottle.

  Talia has a distinct sinking feeling in her stomach. “I don’t know about that. There are a lot of reasons for that man to lie, Papy. Literally millions of them. Because if he stops Aldrich’s project and puts his son on the throne, then he’d be free to develop the land himself,” she says.

  Papy looks up at her sharply. “Clever, baby gran. Just like you maman,” he grumbles.

  But then he gives in with an, “Okay, tomorrow I find de duke, make him write it down. No sense hiding here too long if he not agree. But for now, it’s nice way to stop de hotels.”

  “I suppose,” Talia says, but her mind is turning. She needs to say it out loud, to understand what’s happening. “At least the deal being offered by the royals is fair, or as fair as it can be, to the people. You’ll have a say in the development plans, you’ll have enough land to do some farming, and there will be training available so anyone who wants to can learn a trade to work in the hotel business. If you oust Aldrich, you’ll lose the King’s Gift grant, and the promise that life on Terre d’Or will improve, rather than decline, for island residents.”

  The more she thinks about it, the more she doesn’t like idea of Papy having any dealings with the Duke of Diamant. “If Hervé takes control, there are no guarantees. He might be fair, but are we sure he will be? What if he paves over the whole island, and doesn’t let the locals work in the hotels? Then what do we do?”

  “This true,” Papy concedes with a twist of his mouth.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Papy, but maybe you should sit down and talk with Aldrich before making a deal with the devil,” she says.

  “Dey both de devil,” he insists.

  Talia tilts her head, “Papy, I’m asking you to at least talk to the prince, because I’m sure he’d really like to discuss this with you. I think he genuinely wants to figure out a way to do this project without making the people of Terre d’Or hate him.”

  “Maybe…” Papy concedes again. He squints at her.

  “What?” she asks, wondering if there’s something on her face.

  “Me know you no want de job, but you awful good royal already. You right way dip-oh-mat. You make right good queenie me tink.”

  Now it’s her turn to squint, look at herself in a new light. Because though she’s not at all excited about the fact that Papy had to kidnap her to get her clear of the castle, she can’t say she’s hating this conversation. Or the possibility of brokering a peace that will make the royal family, and the people of Terre d’Or, happy.

  She’s about to suggest he take her with him to meet with Duke of Diamant tomorrow, when a movement in the distance catches her eye.

  “Papy?” she says, pointing.

  Papy sees it too. “Look ‘pon that now,” he says, reaching for his machete.

  Talia leans forward and narrows her eyes. There’s someone at the other end of the cove, squatting over a small fire. Someone she thinks she recognizes.

  But that’s impossible.

  She struggles to her feet, and waddles down the beach. Papy runs ahead, on the prowl. He doesn’t recognize the woman in his secret cove, but that’s not surprising. Because she’s dressed in a pair of drawstring shorts rather than a pair of Ferragamo heels. Her hair is neck length, and natural, rather than covered by the perfectly styled wig Talia grew up seeing her wear every day.

  But it is…it definitely is...

  Her mother!

  Papy stops too, staring at his daughter in shock. “Ella, that you deyah daughter girl?”

  Ella starts, looking up from the fish she’s roasting, and nearly falls over in shock when she sees not just her father, but also the daughter who’s supposed to be in law school. Thousands of miles away.

  “What are you doing here?!?” Talia and Ella cry at the same time.

  Then Ella’s eyes drop down to Talia’s baby bump…

  Chapter 28

  “How could you let this happen?!?!” Ella all but screeches at Papy. “She was supposed to help you for two weeks! Two weeks! Now, five months later, she’s pregnant and still here!! How could you let her screw up her life like this???”

  Talia grimaces, completely unprepared to have this conversation with her mother. In the midst of getting ready for the coronation ball, the drama with Aldrich’s surprise wedding announcement, and the general distraction of growing two babies, Talia had forgotten to worry about how her mother would react to her pregnancy. And now, surprise! Here she is, appearing as if by magic in Talia’s world, on a beach in a secret cove on Terre d’Or—wait a minute!

  Talia breaks off from worrying about how to explain her baby bump to her mother, and starts to wonder what the hell her mother is doing here in the first place.

  “Hold up, you didn’t know I was here?” she asks. She figures Papy, or maybe even Bernard, must have ratted her out. Or else why would Mom leave work to come all the way to Terre d’Or? “But if you didn’t come here to find me, I think the bigger question is what are you doing here, Mom?” Talia demands, taking the offensive.

  “Fair enough,” Ella replies, narrowing her eyes at Talia’s bump. “I’ll go first, but don’t deny you’ve got some explaining to do. A lot of explaining.”

  “Guilty as charged. But you first.”

  “Well…” Mom looks up at the sun, then back down to her roasting fish. “Where to start…”

  “How long you bin here daughter?” Papy demands.

  “Almost three weeks,” she admits.

  “And you no come to chat wid your papy?”

  “I was going to, eventually. I just needed…some time to myself.” Ella looks at Talia, her eyes sad. “And…some time away from your father.”

  “What happened, Mom?” Talia asks, taking her by the hands.

  “More like who happened. George left. I mean, he’s still there…in Connecticut. For now. But…he’s in love with someone else.”

  “That asshole,” Talia whispers.

  “I know it!” cries Papy. “He a no good sleeparound. She a young girl, right? American boys, they no good.”

  “Papy!” Talia says.

  “No, he’s actually right about that,” her mother says, in a tone drier than the sand beneath their feet. “She was one of his law students. That’s why he didn’t want to come to Terre d’Or for the funeral. He told me that’s when he knew he didn’t love me anymore, and would rather be with her.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Talia says, squeezing her hands. True, her parents’ marriage had never been a bed of roses, more like a bed of responsibility icicles. But she’d never seen her mother this sad. She’s trembling now. A far cry from the “Wall Street Shark” Talia always heard in her mind.

  “He’s
cheated on me before, but I never thought he’d actually leave,” Ella says, her voice cracking. “He said I was too independent to love. Too cold and demanding.”

  “He’s an idiot. You know he’s an idiot,” Talia says. She loved her father in a dutiful way since he’d never been the type to take much interest in her beyond making sure she was living her life exactly to the plan he and her mother had established for their only daughter. “What he said is so disrespectful. So cruel. I hate that he’s trying to make it seem like this is your fault when he’s the one who cheated.”

  “I thought if I kept myself busy I could handle it,” Ella continues. “But I guess I’m not as good as your father at hiding my emotions.”

  Oh, no…

  “Did something happen, Mom?” she asks carefully.

  “Nothing much,” Ella answers, wringing Talia’s hands inside hers. “I just…punched a judge.”

  “What?!?!” Papy and Talia say in unison.

  “It’s a long story,” Mom looks back toward the water. “Actually, it’s not a long story at all. He was being a pompous chauvinist, and I couldn’t take any more of his foolishness. So…I punched him. In front of a full courtroom…spent the night in jail afterwards.”

  “Oh, Mom!” Talia lets go of her hands to pull her in for a hug. “Wait, was it Judge Rheingold?”

  “You know it was.”

  They both giggle for a moment, and Talia leans back to say, “He probably deserved it.”

  Her mom sighs. “At the time I thought so, but no one deserves to be punched in the face. Not even a pig like Rheingold.”

  “I guess you got in really big trouble.”

  “Yes. I’ve been suspended until my hearing in three months, well two months now. Then I’ll find out if I’m disbarred or not.”

  Talia rubs her mom’s back. Practicing law has always been so, so important for her. She must be heartbroken.

  “But you know, it’s not so bad. It’s been nice to be back home for a while,” Ella says, looking up.

 

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