A Royal Pain (The Royals Trilogy Book 1)

by Brown, Tara

  “When will you be back?” I wanted to do those things too.

  “I don’t know. I want to stay, but I can’t.” His blue eyes had me trapped in a staring contest. I couldn’t turn away. He leaned forward, brushing his soft lips on my cheek. I almost turned my head, forcing the kiss, but I didn’t. I pressed my cheek into his face. We hovered there like we were telling each other secrets on the shore of the lake.

  When he released me, he turned and walked up the trail. He paused at the top of the trail and spun back. “Do you admit defeat then?”

  “In what?”

  “Your feelings for me? Do you admit you like me as much as I like you?”

  “Never.” I bit my lip, fighting a grin.

  “Liar.” He smiled back and then walked away, not saying another word to me. Not even saying good-bye.

  I stood, waiting for him to come back and kiss me for real.

  But he didn’t return, and when I walked back to the deck, he wasn’t there. The ladies at the table waved through the window, all except Marbles, but there was a smile in her eyes.

  When I got inside, I saw Jack. He had a weird expression on his face.

  Aiden was gone. He had just left me in the friggin’ woods.

  “Shit!” I stormed to the office and sat in the chair.

  My fingers hovered over the keys, but I didn’t do it. I didn't log on and see what depressing shit was being said about me. I didn't go on and see what bad shenanigans my friends were up to.

  I sat and stared at my reflection in the laptop screen.

  Something was different.

  Aiden was different.

  Aiden had made me different.

  What was I supposed to do without him?

  I got lost staring at myself.

  I didn’t mean to be the girl who based her summer on a guy, but he felt bigger than a summer fling. He felt like a game changer. He felt like Jack and Millie, and he would surprise me every day until I was a hundred.

  I mentally slapped my cheek and reminded myself that it had only been a few weeks of actual hanging out. That wasn't long enough to establish real feelings.

  But my heart prevailed, and I spent all my time wishing he were back.

  My summer changed from that moment on.

  I didn’t worry about what my clothes looked like or how fat my lips were. I didn’t bother with my hair. It was ponytails and yoga pants most of the time, if it wasn’t shorts, tees, and bathing suits. I didn’t care that I was always covered in Peaches’ fur and she hogged the bed at night. I didn’t mind that Hattie and I had come to an understanding. I told her no secrets and she gossiped about me freely anyway. At least her version of me was a crazed badass.

  Instead of having an amazing summer before senior year, I had an experience like no other. I never got drunk once, I never kissed a single boy, I never woke up once wondering what had happened the night before, but best of all, I never eyed the people around me and wondered if any of them had it out for me.

  I didn't have to keep up or plot revenge or try to outmaneuver anyone.

  I hung up laundry. I took it down. I played fetch with a dog who made my arms ache.

  I watched movies I had zero interest in until the very end and then I was dying for another. I learned to mail a letter and what it was like to want something real.

  It was a strange comfort to be surrounded by old people who lived in this peace, leaving every other thing in the world alone. No one bothered me. I didn't feel pressured to do things I didn't actually want to do.

  The only bad part was the ache in my chest. I caught myself staring at the Atlantic Ocean like it was a challenge for me to overcome. As if it was the thing keeping us apart.

  The only thing that saved me was the first letter. A real handwritten letter. I opened it like he might’ve been in there, but it was just a single piece of paper.

  Finley,

  I hope this finds you exactly as I left you. Maybe not exactly. I don’t think I want you to be still standing in the forest, leaning against a large stone. I should have kissed you. I can say that now because this is a letter. It is true though. I should have. I hate that I have regrets. Do you see what you are doing to me? At any rate, I hope you haven’t changed since I left.

  The reason I am writing, beyond sharing my regrets, is to tell you about a must-see in a place called Lunenburg. You have to go there. I have arranged a car. It will arrive at Hattie’s on Friday. You will stop at a place called Mahone Bay. It is my favorite place in Nova Scotia. Be there at noon, sharp. I can’t wait for you to see something I love.

  Enjoy. I miss you.

  Yours,

  A

  His penmanship was amazing. I read the letter, over and over, until the paper was wrinkled. It smelled like him for a day and then it smelled like me, and Peaches.

  I couldn't believe he was planning a day trip for me.

  On Friday, when the car came I had to laugh. It was a fancy black car, a Bentley I think. The driver opened the door for me like a gentleman.

  “Thanks, I’m Finley.”

  “Yes, miss.” He didn't introduce himself or say anything else.

  The drive to Mahone Bay seemed familiar. I leaned forward. “Is this the way to Peggy’s Cove?”

  “It is. We passed the turn some time ago. We have to arrive in Mahone Bay at exactly noon. Otherwise, I would suggest we stop. Peggy’s Cove is amazing in the sun.”

  “That’s okay. I like my memory of it in the rain.”

  He looked confused but drove on.

  We turned off at a random spot, onto a road that didn’t look like much until we rounded a corner and came into a large bay with a town nestled in it.

  My mouth dropped open.

  The water was calm so you could almost see the reflection of the colorful old houses and huge churches.

  Why so many churches for such a tiny fishing village?

  It was beautiful in a way that made me think of France along the southern coastline.

  The churches lined the water, one after another. It was bizarre.

  The driver stopped and opened my door. “Why so many churches?” I asked as I got out, hugging my light jacket to myself.

  “Shhh.” He checked his watch and smiled as all the huge bells on all the churches began to ring out simultaneously.

  It was like being in a Dickens story or watching a village inside a snow globe. I had never experienced something so beautiful. There were three larger churches that looked more like cathedrals, all on the main street. They each had a bell tower and sat across the bay from where we were, creating a perfect symphony of music. Then there were smaller ones lining the hillside on streets above the front street. It sounded as if they had bells too.

  I wasn’t sure if it made me sad Aiden wasn’t there or if it made me excited a boy liked me so much that he had planned a trip like that for me. He liked me so much he wanted me to see something spectacular that he loved. And it wasn't like Big Ben or the Eiffel Tower. It was a small thing that hardly anyone would have seen, like a secret.

  Either my heart was growing or my mind was expanding.

  We got back in the car and drove into Mahone Bay. It was quaint and colorful, like nothing had changed in two hundred years. The houses were so bright you would swear they were tacky or belonged in a Disney movie. But they suited their colors. I smiled, leaning forward as if I was a little kid pressing my nose against the window. “The houses are stunning, like a movie set, but better.”

  The driver pointed. “The thing I love about them is the flaws. All of them have a story. These houses are as old as the pirate tales about hiding treasure and outrunning the British Navy.”

  When we reached the other side of the small town, it was just a short drive to Lunenburg, my actual destination. It too was nestled on a large bay, but it was a bigger town. He drove me to a parking lot on the water. “Go tell that man your name.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “What?” That sounded like a bad plan.

/>   He smiled. “He said you might get like that and said to tell you to trust him. He wouldn’t ever send you to a place that was dangerous. Oh, and he said to give you this.” He handed me a letter.

  “Thanks.” I smiled and climbed out of the car on my own. I walked over to the odd-looking old man with the top hat who I was scared would start performing magic for me. Aiden couldn’t know about my unnatural fear of magic and clowns and all circus people.

  I stammered, unnerved by the top hat, “Uhm, h-hi.” It took me a second to gain my composure and to stop being such a baby. “I’m Finley Roze.”

  He smiled. “I’m Simon MacKay. Welcome.” He held an arm out for me. I gripped the letter and took the strange man’s arm. He led me around a corner to a street lined with horse-drawn carriages and walked me to one. He opened the door to the carriage for me, taking off his top hat when I climbed aboard. He climbed into the driver’s seat and called out to the horses, making them pull out in a slow trot.

  My eyes scanned the sloped town. It was entirely built on a hill, like it was pouring down the hill into the sea. I opened my letter.

  Finley,

  The man you are about to have a tour with is the best guide there is. You are safe in his hands. He has stories about everything. I wish I were there to see your face when you see all the beautiful houses and views.

  Watch for ghosts in the windows! Oh, and you VANT pastry. It’s the best.

  Yours,

  A

  I scowled at the short note. Ghosts and vant? What’s a vant? Was he trying to have an accent on his accent?

  We rode past the most colorful houses I had ever seen, even more so than Mahone Bay. It had a vibrancy you didn't see in the modern world.

  “The whole town is a protected heritage site. It will always be beautiful like this.” He pointed as he turned up a road. I could see what Aiden had meant. The view was incredible.

  The driver pointed at the old houses and shops as he drove on. “This was a small town when it started out in the 1700s. Only a few families lived here. But it boomed with the shipbuilding and fishing. By the 1800s this was a thriving town.” We rode up to a black-and-white house that seemed more like a hotel or something. “This was the old academy. It’s said to be haunted by the spirits of boys, some of them who died off the coast in fishing boats and ships. They returned here to the academy ‘cause it was where they grew up. You can hear the noises at night and sometimes see people watching you from the windows.”

  I shuddered. “Creepy.” I chickened out and avoided looking in the windows.

  “I wouldn't go in the basement, just saying.” He drove on. “This is the gallows hill. It is said that a large number of livestock and even people were attacked by a German werewolf in the 1700s. The man who was accused of being the wolf was put in a cell. He was found dead the next morning, covered in animal bites.”

  I started to wonder why the hell Aiden would make me come there. I didn’t like scary things. But I had to remember he wouldn’t know stuff like that.

  “The thing we’re most famous for is the ships. To this day, some of the finest ships in the world are built here. Back in the day, privateers, pirates, and rumrunners alike all got their boats from here.” He nattered on, but I just marveled at the views. It was just a beautiful place, full of color. You could see the rich history without hearing about it.

  “I wish school was this awesome. My teacher has probably told me this story, and I never even heard it because she didn't bring it to life.”

  He stopped in front of a small shop. “Run inside and get a pastry, the finest German-baked goods this side of the Atlantic. We have a ton of German settlers here on this coast.”

  “You want anything?”

  “No. My missus is making kidney pie for dinner. Can’t spoil it.”

  “Kidney pie?” I wrinkled my nose and eyed the store. My frown didn’t improve. It didn’t look like much—maybe food poisoning later—but I ignored my doubts and went in. The moment I was inside, I knew he was right. The smell was insanely good. The old lady behind the glass counter gave me a scowl. “You vant pastry?” She had a thick accent.

  I almost laughed, but I fought it. That’s what he meant. I pointed at the display. “Can I have an apple strudel and a tart?”

  She boxed the goods, and took my money. She kept my change and stared at the door for me to leave. I picked the two small boxes up off the counter and walked out, backwards and maintaining eye contact. She never moved, just stared at me.

  When I got back outside, I gave the driver a look. “Dude, what was that?”

  He grinned. “Like the Soup Nazi on Seinfeld, huh?”

  I didn’t know what that meant, but I nodded. ”She’s interesting.”

  “She’s worth it.” He drove and I ate. I was nearly sick I was so stuffed when I finished, but they were just as Aiden had said—the best. I was ready for a nap by the time we got back to the road where it had all started.

  I smiled at Simon. “Thank you for the tour.”

  He winked. “Very pleased to meet you, Miss Finley.”

  I left him and strolled along the street filled with the smell coming from the restaurants. When I got back, the driver smiled. “We have one place to go before we can leave.”

  “I’m kind of tired.”

  He winked. “You won’t want to miss this, and I was paid to take you there.”

  I followed him along a pier, weaving our way through hordes of people with cameras and bad shorts, to a bunch of ships. It looked like Pirates of the Caribbean. I wondered if the movie had been filmed on any of them. He walked to a really old-looking one and smiled, passing me something. It was a coin, a Canadian coin.

  “This is the ship on the dime. The Bluenose. It’s actually a replica because the original ship was lost. She was wrecked on a reef, and the government didn’t care that she was the fastest ship in the world or that she was a worldwide and Canadian icon. They just let her die out here on the reef. She was salvageable, but they said it was too much money. So they built an exact replica of her—this one. The Bluenose II. She is a beauty though.”

  “Cool.”

  He laughed. “Okay, let’s go do the thing we came for so we can get going. Did you get the tart? I always get the tart. She’s a strange broad, but she can bake.”

  “Yeah. It was amazing. She is super weird though.” I traipsed along behind him, back to the shop-lined street. He walked into an old-looking store with a thick wooden door. When he opened it, the bell rang, like the church bells almost, but tiny. I gazed up and scowled. It was an antique store.

  Why was I being brought to a stinky old antique shop?

  When I followed him inside, the shop owner passed the driver a bag. He handed it to me. “This is for you.”

  I opened the paper bag to find a ring box. I turned to the driver. “What is this?” I didn't know what to say.

  He smiled. “The young man wanted you to have it.”

  I viewed the costume jewelry in the store and tried to tell myself it wasn’t such a big deal. It was junk jewelry.

  I opened it to find a ring with a white-gold setting and a red stone in the middle surrounded by clear stones. The red stone was a large oval. A smile slipped across my lips, regardless of the pounding of my heart.

  It was NOT what I was expecting. It was beautiful, even for costume jewelry. And even if it was a fake piece, it was fun to have a boy buy me a piece of antique jewelry. He had sent me on a mission to find it. He had arranged the entire day for me. I smiled wider. In the bottom of the box there was a note that read:

  Better than Instagram for remembering the day, I wager!

  I could easily fall in love with him.

  I pulled out the ring and glanced at the man who owned the shop. “Is it real?”

  He smiled. “It’s real to him.”

  I beamed back as I slipped it on my pointer finger on my right hand, as far away from the important ring finger as I could. “It’s so pretty. It looks
real, the way it sparkles.” It was the perfect size. Aiden was a master gift giver. If we ever did end up dating, I would never be able to keep up. “Thank you.”

  The shop owner bowed slightly. “Milady.”

  It was weird—Canadians were so weird. But I liked it. I followed the driver back, staring at my hand. I couldn’t stop. It was a fascinating thing to see a ring that was bought for you.

  “So you and the young man are in love?”

  I laughed. “I hardly know him.”

  He got the door for me. “But do you love him?”

  “I don't know.” I couldn’t say either way so I shrugged. “I could, I think.” It was weird telling a stranger this. “I don’t know him that well. We’ve known each other for like weeks.”

  He continued, “I knew the moment I met my wife. She was standing in a line in Halifax for coffee. She got to the till and realized she had no cash. I paid for her coffee and the rest is history.”

  I ran my fingers over the sharp edges of the white crystals and smiled. “I have been hearing that a lot lately. People don’t do that anymore though.”

  He scoffed. “It’s a shame. Everyone puts so much energy into meeting the right one. They try too hard for perfection and end up with their version of the right person but for all the wrong reasons. Or even worse, they end up being single for too long. You can love anyone you tell yourself to love.”

  I didn’t have an argument for that. I didn’t know anyone back home who was in love. But here on the east coast of Canada, amongst strangers, I knew so many people who were in love.

  He gave me a look in the rearview. “You remind me an awful lot of my niece, Joan. She’s a cheerleader. You must be a cheerleader too.”

  My smile faded. “What? Why?”

  He shrugged. “You just have that look about ya. Shiny hair and pouty lips and all. Joan is the same. She’s always got shiny hair and perfect makeup and her eyebrows always look like yours, like she’s surprised about something.”