Minutes later, Cara returned and I led her past the library, down the stairs, around the grand ballroom, and out a side door to the gardens.
“I’ve never been out here before. It’s nice.”
“You should see the flowers in the spring. I’m fairly certain my mother employs one out of every four citizens of Falkenberg as gardeners.”
There was a polite pause. “Queen Margrit really loves flowers that much?”
Cara had only met my mother once, but I suspected the queen hadn’t made a very warm and fuzzy impression on the young woman. “She does indeed. Thanks for coming out here with me. I definitely needed to look at something other than a computer screen.”
“What were you working on?” Cara sounded curious, not guarded as she had when talking about the queen. For some reason, I liked that.
“E-mail. Reports. Setting up meetings. How much do you know about industry in this country?”
“Not much,” she admitted. “There are a lot of financial firms, right? Like in Switzerland?”
“Exactly, though on a smaller scale. And the majority of the banking and investments is done online—hence the eyestrain. The other major industry is tourism.”
“I can see why. That’s quite the view.” Cara swept her hands out in front of her, gesturing at the mountains in the distance.
“It is, but that’s not actually the view I brought you out here to see. Turn around.”
We were far enough away from the castle to truly appreciate its scope. Pictures for postcards and other souvenir items were often taken from this spot.
“Wow… from here it looks like Cinderella’s castle.”
So very American of her to say that. But her admiration was genuine. I was proud of my ancestral home, and I’m glad she was impressed. “This isn’t Disneyland, but the spinning teacups are over there, and Space Mountain is beyond the stable. I’ll show you on the rest of the tour.”
Cara’s giggle was light and musical—the way Elyse’s used to be. “I’m really enjoying the tour, but I also want to talk to you about a couple of things.”
I nodded and placed my hand on her back, guiding her. Even through the coat, her skin felt soft and warm under my touch. Gently, I steered her to the right. If we kept heading that way, we could go in the front entrance.
For a moment, Cara was silent, looking up at the large stone bricks that lined the castle walls. Everything about this place was massive, and it must look even more so to someone so small.
Truthfully, I was glad for this brief moment of silence. It was obvious Cara wanted to talk about the children, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. If I let her talk to me about Derrick and Elyse, that meant I accepted her as being a part of their lives. And though she’d been here for nearly ten days, I still wasn’t sure about the wisdom of doing that.
The tutor didn’t discuss with me how to raise my kids. Gretchen didn’t. Hell, maybe I’d misread the situation, and perhaps Cara wasn’t going to, either. But that seemed unlikely. Despite her youth, despite her small size, she struck me as a person who didn’t back down. Who didn’t give in.
If she stayed, things would be different around here—how could they not? I wasn’t sure I was ready for that, let alone the children.
I got a short reprieve. Cara was distracted by a tall, round stone building that had been built over a century ago. “What’s that? It looks like a silo of some sort.”
“It’s the old mews.”
“The what?”
“We used to keep falcons in here. My grandfather trained them.”
Cara looked at the padlocked wooden door with interest. “Like he wore a leather glove and they flew away and then came back to him?”
“Exactly like that. Grandpa and one of the groundskeepers had a real passion for it. I did too, when I was a boy. The falcons were amazing. They looked like WWII fighter planes diving out of the sky. I used to spend hours here. It was a lot of work, but I thought it was the coolest thing in the world.”
“Wait, wasn’t your grandfather the king? How’d he have time for such an involved hobby?”
The thought of my mother’s father out here in the mews almost made me laugh. “No, this was my father’s father. He lived on the castle grounds.” I missed him a lot. My own father had died when I was a baby, and my grandfather had been a big part of my childhood.
Cara took one last look at the mews and then smiled up at me. “It must be in the blood, then, because your son seems to have inherited your interest in birds.”
That was news to me. When he was a toddler, he’d been wild about dinosaurs, but I don’t remember him going through a bird phase. “He’s talked to you about falconry?”
“Nothing that majestic.”
Where was she going with this? My confusion must have shown on my face, because she smiled and said, “He’s more interested in pigeons.”
Without realizing it, I started walking again as I listened with growing disbelief to Cara’s tale of her trip up to the rooftops. “And he says he’s been going up there for a year?”
“That’s what he said. He’s got it all set up for them. I tell you, it’s like the Ritz Carlton for birds.”
We strolled along a paved path past hedges and frozen ponds as I questioned Cara about Derrick’s activities. I still couldn’t believe that all this had gone on under my nose, but I suppose it proved that I was right about the children needing a nanny. And she’d been right to worry about how much time they were spending on their own.
When we reached a low wall on the south side of the palace, Cara turned to face me. “So… can he still go up there if I’m with him? The stepladder he uses to get up there is a lot safer than the route I took.”
I thought about it for a moment. It seemed obvious that this was important to my son. And Cara’s hair-raising story of how she got onto that rooftop proved that she’d do her best to keep him safe. “I’ll have to check it out for myself. Then we’ll see. But either way, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For going after him like that. You could’ve been injured.”
“Just doing my job,” she said with a smile.
And she was right. It was her job. She may not be doing it exactly the way I’d anticipated, but it was her job. There was no question of that now. She’d risked her life for my son.
“So now let’s talk about Elyse,” Cara said, and I sank onto the brick wall next to us.
“Do I even want to know? Is she running some kind of illegal gambling ring in the cellar? Or perhaps she’s taken to skydiving off the north tower?”
“Nothing like that.”
Cara looked down at me, and it was strange having to tilt my head up to see her. I’d been getting quite used to seeing the top of her head. “So what is it?”
She sat down next to me. That was better. Now I could see the way her the tip of her nose had turned pink in the chilly air.
“What’s your policy on screen time?”
Her words took me by surprise. “Excuse me?”
“For the children. They love books, but are they ever allowed to watch television?”
I frowned for a moment, thinking. When we’d lived in the US, they’d watched cartoons and played simple games on tablets just like any other children. But here, it was different. “I don’t think we even have a television.”
“There’s none in the playroom. Just books.” She paused for a moment and then let out a little laugh. “That didn’t come out right. It’s fantastic that they both like reading so much, but I’ve been trying to think of a way to draw Elyse out.”
“She’s just shy. She’ll warm up once she gets to know you better.”
“I’m not sure that’s the case. Think of how little she talks during dinner. She rarely speaks up at lunch or in the afternoons. Presumably she talks to the tutor, but still… that’s a big chunk of the day spent in silence.”
That was a sobering thought. My beautiful little girl talked to her twin, and
spoke with me, but she hadn’t been what could rightfully be called chatty since we moved back here. “How does a TV fit into this equation?”
“I’ve been trying to think of things she might like to do. Things that might get her to open up. She likes this fairy-tale coloring book I brought her, and she enjoyed the puppet show today at the market. So, that made me think of Disney movies. Maybe we could watch one per week in the playroom.”
“Which ones?” Not that I was up with the latest entertainment news, but I was pretty sure that Disney films had branched out since my childhood.
“Just the animated ones, like Beauty and The Beast or Frozen.”
“In other words, Disney Princesses.” My daughter did know she was a real princess, right?
“I know, it’s ironic, but I really think she’d like them. And maybe she’d want to talk about them.”
“Sounds like it’s worth trying to me.”
“Good.” Cara seemed relieved. “If you don’t want them to have a television, I can download movies on my laptop and we can watch it on—”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll have something set up in the playroom by Monday.”
“Thank you.” Her smile was buried under the thick scarf she was wearing, but I heard it in her voice.
I stood and held my hand out to her. Even through our gloves, I could feel the heat from her fingers as she rose to her feet. “Anything else we need to talk about?”
“Yes—oh!” Cara gasped as her foot slipped out from under her. I grabbed her arm, and she clung to me while she found her balance. “Careful. There’s some ice under the snow there.”
“Yeah, this walkway is usually pretty slick. Fortunately, I spent half my childhood running around here. I know just where to put my—fuck!” I skidded on a hidden patch of ice, and suddenly we were both holding onto each other, trying not to fall.
Cara’s eyes sparkled—she was clearly trying not to laugh. Scowling, I straightened up. Cara kept her gloved fingers wrapped around my arm, and it felt simultaneously familiar and foreign.
“Come on, let’s get off this damn path and walk back through the snow. Much less slippery,” I said gruffly. “What was the other thing you wanted to talk about?”
“Oh yeah. I wanted to ask you a favor” she said. “Would it be all right if I spent one morning a week in town while Derrick and Elyse are working with their tutor?”
“Of course not. If you tell me when you want to go, I’ll have Henrik make arrangements.”
“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that. He said he’d come pick me up.”
“He?” Where did she meet a ‘he’?
“His name is Von, and he’s writing a play. When he found out I wrote plays, too, we started talking. I’m going to help him—not just with the English, but with the pacing and some scenes he’s having problems with. He said he didn’t mind coming up here to get me.”
“I’m afraid it’s not as simple as driving up to a girl’s house and honking the horn.”
Cara laughed. “If you want him to come inside and meet my father, that’ll be a little difficult considering he’s in California.”
“The driver will take you. It’s not a problem.” I trusted my staff on the narrow twisty road far more than I did some head-in-the-clouds wannabe playwright.
“Thank you.”
We turned a final corner and followed a paved walkway toward the main entrance of the castle. Some of my former exasperation was turning into reluctant amusement. “How on earth did you meet a man writing a play in English at a Saturday market in Falkenberg?”
“It does seem unlikely, doesn’t it? But I’m so glad I did. I was involved in the theater department throughout all of high school and college and I miss it a lot. When I saw how good Von was, I had to go up and talk to him afterward.”
“Afterward?” I repeated blankly.
“After his show.” Cara must’ve seen confusion on my face. “His puppet show.”
“He’s a puppeteer?”
“Yes. He was really good, too.”
“A puppeteer?” She grinned at my incredulous look.
We reached the stone steps in front of the main doors, and I gestured for Cara to go ahead. As I followed her up the steps, a wry thought came to me. She was pretty damn lucky that I wasn’t the carefree man I used to be.
Because that man would’ve teased the hell out of her for befriending a puppeteer who was an aspiring playwright.
I watched as Cara disappeared through a door twice her height and shook my head. The old me would’ve never let her live that down.
13
Nico
Where is she?
I checked my watch—again. It was nearly 11:30. The narrows roads were dark and icy. She shouldn’t be out there.
Henrik knocked on the open door of my office. I set my glass down on the table in front of the sofa and stood.
“She just called Gretchen, Your Majesty. She wanted to know if someone would be manning the gates at this late hour.”
I scoffed and shook my head. What did she think this was, a youth hostel with a napping night clerk? “Take a car out and meet her at the gates. Don’t let Shakespeare Jr. onto the grounds.”
“Of course, sir.”
“You should’ve told me when she requested to be driven into town earlier.” Cara had spoken to him about getting a ride after the children had gone to bed. I’d been in a call with some business associates on the other side of the world, so Henrik hadn’t notified me.
“My apologies, Your Majesty.”
I had to be careful. It wasn’t him I was frustrated with. I wasn’t even sure it was Cara. I was just… frustrated. With a sigh, I gestured to the bottle and cups on the small table. “Would you like a drink, Henrik?”
“Thank you, Your Majesty, but I must respectfully decline.”
I sighed. My choice for drinking companions around here was limited to tea with my mother or juice with my children.
“Of course. Let me know when Cara is back.”
“Yes, sir. And one more thing, Your Majesty. Mr. Hollister sent over his itinerary. They’ll arrive here Tuesday, around noon.”
That, at least, was good news. I hadn’t seen my old buddy Blake and his wife since I left the States. “Thank you, Henrik. That’s all.”
He nodded and left. I stood in front of the fireplace for a few moments, enjoying the warmth. Then I drained my glass and moved to my desk to catch up on some work, but I couldn’t concentrate. Weird how that kept happening this past month.
When Henrik called to say Cara was heading up to her room, I took a side entrance from my suite and intercepted her.
It was almost midnight, and she still looked animated. She was bundled up in her belted red coat with a white hat and scarf. She stopped dead when she saw me, clearly startled.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
She had her hand to her chest. “Trying not to have a heart attack. You popped out like an evil jack-in-the-box.” She paused, tilting her head to the side. “Is a jack like a prince? In playing cards, there’s a king, a queen, and then a jack. I never thought about it before.”
She was absurd. Every time I saw her, I was surprised by something that came out of her mouth. “I have no idea.”
This didn’t deter her. She looked past me curiously, trying to see into the dark rooms behind me. “I’ve never noticed that door before. Does it lead to the children’s quarters?”
“My office is back here.” I moved to the side and held the door open for her. She glanced up into my face, her blue eyes vivid against her rosy flush on her cheeks. Then she stepped inside.
I led her back to my study where she immediately went to stand in front of the fire, pulling off her gloves and rubbing her hands together. She looked small in comparison to the oversized room. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves were nearly twice her height, and she could’ve curled up and taken a nap on the leather sofa without touching either end.
She bounced on
her toes, trying to warm up.
“Where were you tonight?”
Cara turned to me at once. “I’m sorry. I tried to let you know, but Henrik said you had a business call.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I was helping Von.”
Which I presumed, but it was irritating to hear her say it. “I thought you were only supposed to meet with him once a week.”
She nodded, but her eyes sparkled. “That was the plan, but the most amazing thing happened. I emailed one of my old professors from the theater department, and he wants to see Von’s play! That’s why we’ve needed some extra sessions. Von’s going to send the first act this week. And I have a friend in London who’s got some contacts. She thinks she can find someone who’ll want to see it as well.”
Cara looked up at me eagerly, as if expecting me to share her excitement about Von’s news.
Not likely.
“Where do you and the puppeteer work on his great opus?”
A hint of a frown crossed Cara’s face. “In the coffee shop off the main square. The one by the church.”
“Doesn’t that close at nine?” I wasn’t familiar with the shop, but it was a safe bet. Almost everything closed early in town.
“Yes, it did, so we went back to his house.”
“His house? Need I remind you that women alone in a foreign country probably shouldn’t go home with strangers?”
“He’s not a stranger,” she fired back. “He’s my friend. Besides, his mother was there.”
“He lives with his mother?”
“Yes,” Cara said, her eyes blazing. “So do you.”
For a moment, I just stared at her. Then I turned abruptly away—not out of anger, but because an entirely inappropriate laugh was threatening to escape my mouth. She was like a tiny mouse fiercely standing up to a lion. Very few people around this place ever called me out on anything.
But that didn’t change the fact that she’d placed herself in danger, going off with a man she barely knew. And then having him drive her on those narrow, twisty roads. She could’ve been injured or worse. I turned to find her still glaring at me. “What does the puppeteer’s mother think of the play of the century?”
Dashing: A Royal Cinderella Billionaire Story Page 9
