The answer came readily to my lips. “I’m going to start graduate school.”
“To study what?”
“English literature.”
“And that’s really what you want?”
Yes.
No.
I don’t know.
But I had to do something while I figured out a new plan for my life and I’d already been accepted my spot in the program.
The prince was no doubt watching the play of emotions running across my face. His question had been a familiar one. I’d heard it from the principal at my old school when I quit. From my old friend from my theater days, And from my sister, Autumn.
Finally, I answered him. “Yes, it is. It’s what I want in August. What I want right now is to spend time with your children. To get to know them. To play and laugh with them. To help them. That’s all I want—unless you don’t also want that?” For reasons I couldn’t imagine, it was beginning to feel like he didn’t.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face before his forehead furrowed again. Turning his back to me, he placed his hands on the wide windowsill and looked out. I waited patiently, unsure about him or about any of this. But the one thing I did know is that those quiet, somber children didn’t seem to be having much of a childhood. And that much, at least, I could help with.
If he let me.
Finally, he sighed and straightened up. “Meet the children at twelve thirty in the dining room for lunch—then you can spend the afternoon with them. If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do.”
The sound of his boots on the marble steps echoed in my ears as he left.
Still a bit dazed, I watched until the top of his head disappeared at the bottom of the first flight. Now who was being less than forthcoming? Him.
And who was lost again? Me.
Dammit.
6
Cara
“Would anyone like more croquettes?” A server looked around. Elyse and I shook our heads, but Derrick eagerly accepted more of the fried, breaded potatoes. Luckily, they were a finger food, and I was therefore unlikely to drop one into my cleavage. Not that there was anyone around who seemed intent on critiquing my table manners today.
It was quarter till one, and I was finally alone with the children. We were having a surprisingly normal lunch of BLTs. The head chef had come out to introduce himself. He confided that while bacon was Nico’s favorite food, the prince usually took his lunch in his office. That made sense—he obviously had a lot to do. But part of me couldn’t help worrying that he was upset with me. I still couldn’t figure out what it was, but it was obvious something was bothering him this morning. The abrupt end of our tour was proof enough of that.
Once Gretchen tracked me down and showed me back to my room, I’d taken advantage of my newly acquired Wi-Fi password and did some research. I learned about the titles to use for the Falkenberg royal family and more about their history. I also learned that Derrick was three minutes older than his sister, and therefore second in line to the throne after Nico.
It had taken me a long time to work up the courage to look up Nico’s late wife, but I needed to know what happened so that I didn’t accidentally say the wrong thing. The pictures I saw were of a beautiful woman with dark glossy hair. She looked a lot like Elyse, except in the photos, Lady Lisette was always smiling—something I hadn’t seen Elyse do yet.
Nico’s wife had died in a boating accident when the children were just five. That fact alone made me want to hug them right that instant, but since they had thus far barely spoken to me, that was probably a bit premature. But I knew what it was like to lose my mother at a young age, and it was heartbreaking that they did, too.
Once I read about the accident, I recalled hearing about it on the news. Surprisingly, the prince and his wife had been sailing on Lake Tahoe, a gorgeous place I’d been to a few times with my sister and brother-in-law. I hadn’t realized that the prince and his family had lived in California since before the children were born. There were a lot of articles written about their time in the states, but I’d been busy taking course overloads to earn my teacher’s certificate and graduate in just four years.
When I was too full for another bite, I pushed my plate away. Derrick was still eating, but Elyse had only picked at her food. “Would you like something different to eat, Elyse?” She shook her head. At some point, I was going to have to draw her out, but there was no sense forcing something on our first day together.
Time to try something else. “What do you two usually do in the afternoon?”
The children looked at each other, and for a moment, I was sure they were communicating silently with some kind of twin telepathy.
Derrick shrugged. “We have a playroom. It’s got books and games and toys. And art stuff.”
Finally, one of them was talking to me. “That sounds like fun. Is it upstairs near your classroom?”
“Near our bedrooms,” he said, and I nodded as if I remembered where those were.
“What’s your favorite thing about the playroom, Elyse?”
She looked up at me from under a wave of dark hair. Today it was styled differently, though still elaborately. The front section hung down like curtains on either side of her face before being swept back and gathered at the back of her neck. The rest had been sectioned off into spiral curls that hung down her back.”
“She likes reading. And arts and crafts,” Derrick supplied.
“Would you like to do that this afternoon, Elyse?”
The young princess just shrugged, so I looked at her brother. “Sure,” he said.
“What else do you like to do? Gretchen said you know every inch of the castle.”
“Almost,” Derrick said. “The towers are pretty cool, but there are a lot of steps to get there. And we have to stay out of the public areas in the afternoon.”
Right. The afternoon tours. “Well, I’d really appreciate it if you could show me around sometime. I keep getting lost.”
Derrick’s grin revealed that he was missing two teeth. I’d probably never know if Elyse had started losing her baby teeth as well—she wouldn’t even look at me let alone smile.
“Sure, we’ll show you around,” Derrick said, answering for himself and his sister. “And sometimes we go outside, too.”
“In this weather?”
Derrick giggled. “It’s not that cold. January was worse.”
Giving a theatrical shiver, I frowned. “Remember, I’m from sunny California. This feels like the North Pole to me.” This earned another laugh from Derrick and a quick peek from Elyse.
It was a start.
After lunch, we began on lessons. Nico had said I didn’t need to teach the children, and I wasn’t—they were teaching me. Derrick led me back and forth from the dining room to my room several times and then made me find my way on my own. Then to add an additional challenge, he started hiding along the route, once behind a large vase, and another time in a room just off the main route. His grin grew wider each time I found him.
Elyse just planted herself at the midway point and watched with bemusement as I went past time and time again. At least until one run when she suddenly wasn’t there anymore. Derrick and I looked for her along the route, but we couldn’t find her. Luckily, Derrick knew his sister a lot better than I did. He finally located her in the playroom between their bedrooms. She was curled up in a window seat brushing a doll’s hair.
Someone, probably Gretchen, had put a tray with several cups and pitchers on a little table. I poured some juice for the kids and water for me. “Next time, please tell me before leaving, okay Elyse?”
She didn’t say anything, so I carried a cup of juice over to her and waited.
The distant sound of birds chirping carried through the window, and still I waited.
Somewhere in the room, a clock ticked steadily, and still I waited.
When she finally risked a quick glance up and took the juice from me, I said, “Okay?”
She
nodded.
“Thank you.” I went back to sit in a child-sized chair next to Derrick. “If I lose you guys, your grandmother will probably throw me in the dungeon.”
Derrick giggled, so I gave him a mock-worried look. “Are there dungeons here?”
“There used to be,” he confirmed.
Wow. As bad as the high school I’d taught at before had been, at least it hadn’t had any rooms dedicated to torture. “All the more reason to be a good nanny. Do you like coloring books?”
“Sometimes,” he said.
“Does your sister?”
“Sometimes.”
“Well, let’s go back to my room. I brought some good ones for you.”
Half an hour later, Derrick was happily coloring in a book about dragons. Elyse had taken one that told the story of Cinderella, though she was flipping through it from her seat by the window, not coloring. My sister had picked out that one—she always said that the way she met her husband was a Cinderella story.
I kept up the chitchat with Derrick as he colored. “Tell me something about your dad.”
Derrick mulled it over as he colored a dragon’s scales in shades of teal and gray. “He likes BLTs.”
Playfully, I poked him in the arm. “That’s literally the only thing I already know about him. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Hmm… he likes to ski.”
I didn’t blame him, with all the gorgeous mountains around here. Just then, Elyse came up to my side. “Want to color?” I asked her.
She shook her head and whispered in my ear. Her request to use the restroom was quick and quiet, but I was pleased she’d finally spoken to me. “Sure, thanks for telling me.”
I started to follow her out, curious about where the nearest one was, but got distracted when Derrick spoke up. “Dad’s thirty. That’s old, right?”
“It doesn’t sound very old to me.” My sister would be turning twenty-nine soon. A new thought occurred to me—something I hadn’t discovered in my Google search earlier. “Do you have a last name?”
Derrick’s crayon stilled as he thought about it. “I don’t think so.”
“How’s that possible?”
“Dad says we only need one name, like Beyoncé.”
The thought of the prince talking about Queen Bey was a funny one. “I think she does have a last name, though. It’s just no one needs to use it.”
Derrick brightened as if he’d just thought of something. “Dad does have a longer name he sometimes uses. Like for big things.”
“Like for ceremonies?”
“Yeah.”
“What is it?”
He stared at the celling for a moment, apparently trying to remember it all. Nico probably had one of those long royal names with lots of first names. Derrick whispered the name in my ear as if it were a state secret. I repeated it until I could say it from memory. “Wow, that makes him sound really important.”
Again with the cute little giggle. “He is important. He’s the prince.”
“Oh, right. But you’re a prince, too. Are you hungry, Little Prince?”
“Starving.”
“How about you stay here and color and I’ll go get us some more cookies?”
“Sounds good.”
I found the kitchen okay but got lost on the way back with a plateful of cookies. Oh well… if I was never heard from again, at least I wouldn’t starve to death. But then Gretchen came along and walked me back to the children’s playroom.
The playroom that was currently empty.
Damn.
Then we went to the children’s rooms—that were also currently empty.
My heart sank. “Where could they be?”
“They both have secret places they like, miss. Usually they don’t return until they want to. I’m not sure what time it is…”
She reached into her apron pocket, but I pulled out my phone faster. “Almost four.”
“You were with them for about two hours.”
“The prince is going to kill me,” I groaned.
Gretchen laughed, putting her hand on my arm. “I meant it as a compliment. Usually they disappear long before this.”
“Oh.” It didn’t seem like much of an accomplishment to me.
“They will show up by dinner. In the meantime,” she said, pointing at a little round cookie with powdered sugar on it, “try that one. It’s delicious.”
She excused herself and left, leaving me demoralized with a plate of cookies—a dangerous combination. It was only my first day as a nanny and already I’d lost the children.
Or they’d ditched me. Either way, two things were certain.
First, I needed to win the children over, fast.
Second, it really was one hell of a good cookie.
7
Nico
The castle always felt lonely at night. There was still staff on duty, but nowhere near the number during the day. Few people plus a huge building meant you could wander the hallways for hours without encountering anyone. When I was a kid, that was a good thing. It meant I could go explore, raid the kitchen, or watch TV in a spare guest bedroom. As an adult, nights here were just… quiet. Solitary.
That’s why I was surprised to see a glint of light coming from a doorway ahead of me. It was the music room, the sight of my much-hated daily piano practice when I was a child. The room itself was dark; the light was coming from the balcony. Stepping around antique instruments and display cases, I moved to the door. And then stopped.
It was Cara. I couldn’t see her face or even see much of her silhouette in the weak light, but I knew it was her. Something about the dark shape conveyed feminine grace.
She was staring off into the chilly night. As I stepped onto the balcony, she shifted slightly—maybe because she heard me or maybe because of the cold air.
I should’ve retreated. She’d likely arrived at this place not seeking company. Instead, I moved to her side, and joined her in staring out into the night. The sliver-shaped moon provided just enough light to make the snowcapped mountains visible but not the trees below. But the stars… they were the real show here. Hundreds of thousands of them dotting the sky. Had Cara ever seen that many? Usually in the United States there was too much light pollution to see them this well.
We stood side by side in companionable silence, the sleeve of her dark wool coat next to my dress shirt. It was cold, but I liked being outside at night. It was rare that I accompanied by someone else, though.
At last, without turning toward me, she spoke. “I made it four days.”
She sounded faintly surprised, but she couldn’t be as surprised by that turn of events as I was. Each morning, I vowed to tell her it wasn’t working out. I’d compensate her for her time, give her enough of a bonus that she could spend some time in Europe before heading home. And then each night before bed, I’d realize I hadn’t done it yet.
“Did you think you wouldn’t?”
“Sort of, yes.”
Cara’s voice was usually high-pitched, brimming with energy, and somehow lyrical. It wasn’t any of those things tonight. It was lower, more alto than soprano. For a moment, it reminded me of Lisette’s voice—a voice I’d never hear again. That thought made my muscles tense up, but my reaction wasn’t directed at Cara. I knew exactly whose fault it was, and it wasn’t the young woman next to me. “Why?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I’m doing out here—trying to figure it out.”
I took a deep breath and relaxed my stance. Cara had done nothing wrong. In fact, she’d spent the week trying to get my somewhat reclusive children to open up. “Are you giving yourself a report card?”
“Something like that,” she agreed.
The moon disappeared behind some clouds, and in the resulting darkness, it was easier to ignore the way her light blonde hair spilled over her narrow shoulders. “Tell me how you did, then. Going to make the honor roll?”
“Not hardly. I’d say a C-minus.”
“Ouch
. Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on yourself?” It was odd to hear her judging herself when I’d been doing the same since the day she arrived. But somehow, the more she was down on herself, the more I felt the need to defend her.
“Your children keep disappearing on me. Your daughter will barely speak to me unless you count nodding.”
“They disappear on everyone. Don’t take it personally.”
“I’m not,” she said. “But I want to get to know them. I want to do my job. And an au pair without her charges is just a tourist.”
For some reason, that made me laugh. “There are worse things than being a tourist. You’re being hard on yourself. You must have an A-plus in at least one subject. Like the castle layout. At least you’re not getting lost on the way to your room anymore, right?”
Cara turned toward me, and I could see her better in the faint overhead light. “Well, you did say this place was designed to confuse the enemy.”
“Yeah, but I was half joking.” Only half, though.
“It’s just… it’s such a big place. And parts of it don’t seem to have been renovated yet. I worry about them when they go off on their own.
I waved her concerns away. “You know they’re in the castle.”
“But the castle’s practically the size of Delaware.” The moon had reappeared and I could see that her cheeks and nose had been made rosy by the cold. Her blue eyes focused on me, and it was clear her concern for my children was real.
“I spent my childhood running around the castle. They’ll be okay.”
Cara stared at me for a long moment and then nodded. I wasn’t sure if I’d convinced her or if she was refraining from arguing due to my royal status. Suddenly it felt important that she not be intimidated by me. Time to lighten the mood. “I know they gave you the slip, but they like you.”
“Derrick does.”
“Elyse will come around. It’s hard sometimes, even for me.” Should I tell Cara how much Elyse missed her mother? But Cara was an astute young woman. She probably already knew. “By next week, if you’re still keeping score, it’ll be a lot higher.” Had I really just mentioned next week? So much for my plan to let her go at the end of this one.
Dashing: A Royal Cinderella Billionaire Story Page 5
