Royal Master
Page 21
Or better yet, if only Princess Annabelle would have a scandal all of her own. A little fall from grace. Then the wedding would surely be off.
Sophie came back into the office, twisting her hands together. This time I took in her attire, instead of merely gazing at her body… now knowing full well what lay underneath. She was wearing a simple sheath of a dress, the hemline below the knee but not a ruffle in sight, and her hair was pulled back in that naughty bun of hers. But it was the sparkle in her eye that held my attention.
“That was His Majesty’s page on the phone. Your father wants to see you right now. Without delay,” she added softly, concern crossing her face.
I swore and pushed away from the desk. “I should just move into his office at this bloody rate!”
No doubt it would be another lecture. It wasn’t enough that my mother had scolded me, my father had to have his say, too. I rounded the desk approaching the door, meaning to keep my distance from Sophie, but then she reached out and touched my arm.
“Good luck,” she whispered, giving me a squeeze.
That wasn’t enough and instinct and lust took over.
I leaned down and brushed my lips over hers once, pushing her up against the wall behind the door, so no one had the chance of seeing us. She moaned under my touch, a little kitten-like mewl that had me throbbing again and reaching to pull up the hem of her dress, wanting to delve my fingers into her sweet pussy. Breathless, she placed a hand on my chest and stopped my momentum.
“No, you should go. You can’t keep him waiting.”
“It’ll be fine Sophie… a few minutes won’t kill him,” I whispered against her lips, diving in again. “And that’s a proper good morning.”
She sighed. “William, fuck I mean, Sir…”
“It’s okay. I doubt anyone else is in yet to hear us. Let me make you cum again, right here.”
“It’s still not right.”
“Shh, don’t you worry that gorgeous head of yours.”
“William, stop. You have to go.”
“Fine, you know best. I probably shouldn’t piss him off anymore.” I straightened and reluctantly released her. She reached up, wiping the trace of her dusky rose lipstick off my lips.
“We still need to talk, too.”
“No more worrying. I mean it. And the next time I see you I will have you again and nothing you will say will stop me.”
She stayed quiet as I exited the office and headed up to the main part of the palace where my father would be finishing his breakfast in his rooms. I hoped Sophie wasn’t expecting this to be over with. I had no plans to let her go now that I had her. It went deeper than just shagging her. She was the only one that I thought about all the time, the person that I was striving to be a better man for. It was the fucking scariest thing I was going through right now but I knew the payoff was going to be huge.
A footman standing outside father’s rooms saw me coming and had the door open, perfectly timed, for my entrance. I didn’t even have to break my stride. Father sat with a paper in front of him as he sipped his morning coffee. Never tea. Each member of the royal family had their quirks, and that was his.
“Good morning,” I said, taking a seat at the table before him. “You wanted to see me?”
He lowered the paper, folded it with meticulous care then set it down in front of me. “Explain this.”
His long finger pointed at a black and white photograph of me and Sophie twirling about on the dance floor, the look on my face unmistakable. Shit.
“What do you want to know? You were there. If you think I leaked this you must really think I’m stupid… There wasn’t even supposed to be cameras allowed.”
“That’s beside the point. Your mum told me she discussed your future with you last night,” he continued, his voice giving no indication of what he felt about the article and the accompanying incriminating photo. “Now we have to do damage control, William. This has overshadowed all that was supposed to happen, everything that was planned. Bloody hell son, what were you thinking?”
I looked up at him, my eyes narrowing. “Who the hell dictates who we can and cannot dance with?”
My father narrowed his own eyes, glaring right back. “This goes far beyond the dancing, William. It’s written all over your face in the bloody picture. I know that look! You’re walking a dangerous line.”
“Yeah, how would you even know?”
“Trust me,” he sighed, resting his fingertips against the side of his temple.
I looked back at the picture, a little surprised myself at how my emotions were captured so vividly. Maybe he had a point. I was looking at her like I wanted to devour her.
“She’s a pretty woman,” I forced out with a shrug, trying to bluff my way out a sticky situation. “What bloke wouldn’t look at her like that?”
“Well like I said, damage control has to happen now.” He cleared his throat. “You have to understand how it all looks. So, you will be heading off to visit your fiancée tonight. Your man has already packed your bags.”
“What?” I asked, that sinking feeling coming back. “I haven’t even proposed…”
My father looked at me over the rim of his coffee cup. “You will be visiting Princess Annabelle tonight, staying for the rest of the week, with a full team in attendance assisting you. The press secretary has it all arranged and a publicist will conveniently leak happy pictures of you spending time with her to stir up national interest and get this scandal buried. I’m told Annabelle is looking forward to your visit.”
“No,” I stated firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to do it. This charade has gone on long enough but I’m done. I understand the need to get the media to move onto to something else but forcing me to spend time with a woman I have no desire of talking to let alone bedding or marrying is crossing a line. So, no.”
The King’s face coloured. I think it may have been a long time since he’d heard the word no uttered in his presence. He rose from his chair abruptly. His coffee cup clinked on its saucer as he put both down too quickly, and a wave of brown liquid sloshed over the side soaking into the crisp white cloth beneath.
“Are you refusing to obey me? Your father and king? Need I remind you that you are in no position to tell me no, William. You will do this. You will do it with a smile on your face the entire time or I will, so help me God, cut you off, fire your little secretary without so much as a letter of recommendation, and strip her mother of her honorary order. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Fuck him for throwing Sophie and her mother into the mix. He knew my weakness, constantly threatening to banish the one person in my life that gave a fuck about me, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. But I couldn’t be the reason Sophie lost her position or the order her mother had received years ago. I would lose her and any chance I had to be with her.
“Fuck you,” I growled under my breath.
My father chuckled. “Yeah well, it’s not the first time you have told me that and I doubt it will be the last so I think I will live.”
“Did you treat Frederick the same way? If you did, he’s better off dead.”
A normally silent footman standing rigid on the periphery sucked in an audible breath, and my father glared at me.
“You’re scheduled to leave in two hours. Do not disappoint me, William. You wouldn’t like me when I’m disappointed.” His words were sharp and encased in a thick layer of ice.
“If you’re not careful you’re going to lose another son.” I pushed away from the table and walked out without waiting to be dismissed. He was lucky there were others in the room, his footmen and a member of his royal guard hovering close by, otherwise I would’ve throttled him. But I hear regicide is still considered a bit of a no-no these days. They were painting me into a corner yet again—it was almost like a sport for them—and I did not want to play. They might be my family, but I hated both of the people who’d given me life right then.
When I a
rrived back at the office, Sophie was on the phone, no doubt being informed of the new arrangements, and getting all the details on my impromptu trip, given the look on her face.
“No, I understand. Yes, that’s not a problem. I will rearrange his calendar for the rest of the week.”
She hung up and paused, taking a moment before she looked up at me. “So, you’re going on your first official trip abroad, Sir… Exciting times.” The smile on her face didn’t match her despondent tone.
I shut the door with a slam and threw the lock, not caring who noticed, before I approached her, bracing my forearms on her chair, trapping her in.
“Say what you really want to say.”
She wet her lips and I felt my body respond in kind, my cock hardening.
“There’s nothing I want to say,” she replied and then a second later swallowed hard.
“Do you know why they are sending me there?” I asked, grating out each word. I wanted to tell her it was because they knew how I felt about her, how I would do anything to keep her close beside me, in a position she so loved so much.
She faltered and looked away then, the muscles at her jawline twitching. “I do.”
“And you’re fine with that?” I said, willing her to give me any indication that it was killing her too. That she still wanted me. “Are you fine with them pushing me into the arms of another woman?”
Unfortunately I got my wish, and she looked at me, tears filling her eyes.
“What do you want me to say? That I hate it? Of course I do.” Drawing in a breath, she wiped at her eyes. “But what can we do? What we did last night… Can’t ever happen—”
I shook my head. “Last night was the single most important thing that has happened to me in quite some time. And I know you feel the same,” I finished for her. Why didn’t she understand what I was trying to tell her? Why couldn’t I find the right words? “And I want a repeat performance, again and again, Sophie. Numerous times. For the rest of my life. Tell me you don’t want to do the same.”
“Sir,” she whispered, sadness in her eyes.
“Cut that crap out, too.”
“But you told me—”
“My name is William.”
She tried to duck my gaze but I held onto her chin.
“Say my name, Sophie.”
Her mouth parted, then closed again. Her eyes followed suit, closing then reopening after a beat. She sighed.
“William, we can’t do this. It was a mistake. I see that now. You have… you have your obligations and I have a job to do. We live in totally different worlds and we have to come to terms with that. Last night was wonderful, but it can’t ever be repeated. One night has to be enough.”
I pushed away from her, fists clenched, then ran my hands through my hair roughly, trying to grab onto some semblance of control.
“Are you just giving up then? Are you going to let them fucking win?” Speaking mostly to myself than her.
I was losing her. Like sand, she was slipping through my fingers faster than I could catch her.
I heard a sob but she didn’t try to tell me any differently. I had my answer and it felt like she had just ripped my damn heart out of my chest.
“Damn you for making me feel this way,” I said angrily, throwing the lock on the door and stormed out.
How had everything fallen apart so damn quickly? I couldn’t deal with this. I couldn’t do this without Sophie but it seemed that even she had a limit and I had crossed it. Now I had to go do a song and dance that I would be performing for the rest of my life.
Twenty-Two
Sophie
The words heartbreak and heartsick meant little to me until that day. I’d never really experienced anything of the sort but then William walked out of the office and did not return. Fool that I was, I waited all day for him to reappear, perhaps to even apologise for his harsh words or at least explain how on earth he thought that we could be anything more than what we were, under the circumstances. I, for one, couldn’t see a clear path to happiness for us.
I ran that back through my mind again, a realisation suddenly hitting me: he actually wanted more. A prince wanted me. That was something I was not expecting, but still it made me giddy all up in my tingly insides.
But of course then the other truth came crashing around my head. He wasn’t going to come back before his flight and before I knew it he would be in the arms of someone else, someone worthy.
Regardless I stuck around the office longer than I needed too—just in case—and by that night the news and gossip had made the full rounds. Whispers had been floated along a chain of courtiers, servants, maids, footmen, and pages, faster than a canoe down the wildest of river rapids. Basically everyone who had anything to do with the palace knew about the mini-scandal; that Will and I had danced the previous evening and there’d been nothing innocent about it whatsoever, regardless of whether I tried to deny it or not. The leaked picture that was splashed all over London was proof of that.
We’d both been so foolish, and whomever had taken the photo had caught us practically red-handed. Smiles on our faces, gazing into each other’s eyes like there was nowhere else we wanted to be.
Of course, everyone also now knew—courtesy of one of the King’s private footmen, who shall remain nameless—that Will was in deep shit. And was in full damage control mode at the behest of His Majesty, on his way to visit with his fiancée to be.
Yet by the end of day one, all traces or mentions of our dance were overthrown and replaced by the sudden arrival of the heir to the British throne arriving in Monaco. Hints were made and it wasn’t long before the press put two and two together; William was there to see Princess Annabelle. Which was quickly confirmed with—one might say several suspiciously timed—photos of the Prince bowing over the Princess’s hand and later attending a social function with her. God, they looked gorgeous and charming together… like it was meant to be.
I cried myself to sleep that night, the ache in my chest like a cavern, vacant and empty, my heart ripped out and missing. But it was my own damn fault. I knew I shouldn’t have let my guard down. There was a reason why there were strict rules about this sort of thing. The help do not get involved, and the royals are not supposed to let anyone step over that fine line and get too close.
Day two hadn’t brought any new revelations—at least not where William and Annabelle were concerned, no new photos were leaked—and I considered calling in sick for the first time in what were now years of flawless attendance.
My eyes were so swollen and puffy it would’ve been easy to stay home and hide, pretend I was sick with the flu or allergies or something and not of a broken heart. But duty overruled my temptations and I applied some warm compresses and a shit-ton of concealer before I left in order to make myself presentable.
The office was deathly silent when I arrived, though I could still feel his presence, still smell his subtle cologne. I plodded through the day, barely able to concentrate, desperately trying to ignore the growing ache as I worked on my tasks and William’s rearranged schedule for the forthcoming week. A few times during the day I’d been in touch with the King’s assistant private secretary who’d accompanied William, getting updates and feeling like I’d been demoted. Relegated to the side-lines. Obviously I’d not been allowed to go, and to be fair it was probably for the best. No point muddying the waters when you’re trying to clean up.
It was only for a few more days, but then he would be back and we wouldn’t know how to function around each other. It would be awkward, he’d tell me about his inevitable engagement, and I’d want to go hide away in the toilets.
So, by lunch I knew exactly what I had to do, even if my stomach was tying itself in knots at the thought. I had no other choice and my mind was made up.
I had a duty to King and country.
I couldn’t work in this condition anymore; like a giddy girl with her first crush and later one with a broken heart with the danger of becoming bitter and nasty aro
und him. Either way, I was unbecoming and unprofessional. And I was no actress; I couldn’t pretend there was nothing between us when there clearly was something… Everything.
I pulled the letter off the printer’s tray. The paper felt warm in my shaky hands and I folded it carefully, making a crisp edge along the middle.
Before I talked myself out of it I picked up the phone and dialled, then a few minutes later I walked the wide corridors and through the gallery. I didn’t pause as I usually would to admire the portraits of all the royal family past and present, instead I kept my stride steady until I made it to the king’s office.
Beresford, the king’s private secretary, sat behind his desk acting as gatekeeper. But that day there was no small talk, he merely quirked an eyebrow at me, scrutinising me from head to toe as I approached, then with a nod directed me towards the king’s domain beyond the double gilt doors. I knocked lightly on the wood and held my breath.
“Enter.”
I tried to keep my head up high as I entered, but I kept catching my gaze dipping to the thick carpet, each step harder to take than the last. Shame washing over me. Finally I was before him, and I stood with my hands clasped behind my back in front of his desk, the letter pinched between thumb and forefinger.
“Sophie,” His Majesty said and set the bulbous fountain pen he held down onto the leather desk pad. “What do I owe this pleasure?”
His hooded eyes followed my movements as I sat the letter before him.
I straightened, took a step back and swallowed hard. “Your Majesty, it has been a great honour to serve this royal house, but I’m here to turn in my resignation… effective immediately,” I added, my throat becoming clogged with emotion.
His eyes widened but that was the full extent of his reaction. Calmly he took the letter, unfolded it and began reading the contents that I knew by heart.
I’d shed a few tears typing it out, but I’d had to keep on reminding myself that it was the right thing to do. I had, after all, shagged my employer and somewhere along the way, fell in love with him. It was the worst possible thing I could have done and there was no way I could remain knowing I would be watching him marry his princess and later, no doubt, producing an heir. I couldn’t stand by and torture myself like that. It would be hard enough to watch his life unfold on the telly or in the tabloids. No more OK or Hello magazines for me.