Long Live Queen Perry: Contemporary Reverse Harem (Kingdom of Veronia Book 3)

by Serena Akeroyd

  Perry winced. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

  Xavier let out a small laugh. “Don’t be sorry for him. He had every single politician in Parliament dropping to their knees in terror.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” Edward grumbled, but Xavier was disappointed to note he placed his knife and fork back on the plate. Perry seemed to notice, too, because she shot Xavier a displeased glance.

  Wincing, he murmured, “No. You owned that moment, Edward. When that goes live on all the news broadcasts, Jesus, the people are going to be so proud that you’re their leader.”

  “Shut up,” he grumbled again.

  “No. It’s the truth. I know you’re nervous about everything. But we all are. We’re all having to find our way on this path, but you should know that we have your back.”

  “He’s right, Ed,” George inserted, taking another sip of his drink. “It’s not enough to just share the workload with us. You have to share the stresses and tensions, too.”

  Edward’s jaw flexed. “What good will it do to frighten you?”

  His tone was so low and gravelly, it was hard to hear. Xavier frowned at it then asked, “Frighten us? In what way?” Xavier, unlike George, was more in the know about most aspects of life at court.

  Edward, though he didn’t always share, did talk to him more than he did his younger brother.

  “There’s a lot going on,” was all Edward said. “A lot you don’t need to know.”

  “Why don’t we?” Perry asked. “If it’s worrying you, then maybe talking about it will help break it down. And maybe our insights will help?” Edward fell silent a second, and Perry sighed. “Never mind.”

  Her husband shook his head. “No. It’s just about Mother, that’s all.”

  “What about her?” George insisted, his shoulders straightening at his brother’s words.

  “I had some suspicions confirmed. I just know you guys were in the dark.”

  “Don’t keep us guessing,” Xavier said drily.

  Edward shrugged. “I knew she’d had affairs. I also know that she had one with Drake. That’s why I’m more lenient with him, George. I know he’d never have done anything to hurt Mother. He loved her too much.”

  For a second, George’s mouth was agape. Then, Perry reached for his hand which was flat on the mahogany table, and curled her fingers about his.

  “George, it’s okay,” Ed murmured. “It’s too late to cast guilt, too late to lay blame on anyone.”

  “You knew? For how long?” George demanded, his voice gritty.

  “About Drake? Not until recently. He told me.”

  “We were talking about her affairs on the way to the hospital,” he stated, cutting Perry a quick glance. Xavier saw her fingers tighten about his. “You never said a word.”

  “I didn’t want to. It wasn’t the time.”

  “We were discussing how their pasts could be affecting our damn present, Edward. How could that not be relevant?”

  “I’m trying to protect you,” Edward said softly, for the first time, an edge appearing to his tone. “It’s a force of habit, George. I’ve been doing it since…”

  “Since we were children. Since we were kidnapped. I know, Edward. I know. But I’m old enough to be able to help you, goddammit! What else haven’t you told us? I demand to know if it means we can figure out what the fuck is going on with the UnReals.”

  Edward rested his arm on the polished mahogany table. His elbow accidentally jerked the ornate silverware he hadn’t used with his meal as he pressed his head to his closed fist. The pose was that of Rodin’s The Thinker, but Edward looked far more pensive than that classical sculpture ever could.

  The man had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Xavier just wished he’d share some of the fucking worry.

  “Edward,” Perry insisted gently. “We need to know. You’re keeping this from us while we’re all in danger. Your keeping us uninformed isn’t going to save us.”

  Xavier saw how tightly his cousin’s jaw was clenched, then, as though the words were being torn from him, he bit out, “The UnReal that De Montfort met…he was related to the man Mother had an affair with.”

  For a second, peace reigned, before George whispered, “Excuse me?”

  Edward closed his eyes, and Xavier knew just how hard this was for his cousin. He wasn’t lying when he said that he’d been protecting them all their lives. He’d always taken the most solid route to satisfy his parents, leaving George and Xavier the freedom to live how they wanted. To lead the lives they wanted to lead.

  Edward had married that cold bitch, had endured a life of servitude to the Crown, while Xavier had pottered away in his greenhouse, ignoring Marianne’s summons to royal events, and George had partied it up in the US. Making a name for himself as a venture capitalist, and all at his brother’s expense as Edward singlehandedly took on the duties of two princes of the realm, not just one.

  This was a habit that had been born over a lifetime.

  There was no easy fix. No simple way to break it open.

  “Drake informed me of this before the shooting. He was explaining certain matters to me, and I had to process them myself before I could even begin to share the news.”

  “It’s okay,” Perry said softly. “We’re not blaming you.” She cut George a sharp glance. “We’re not, Edward. Just take your time. We need to know this.”

  The footmen who had lined the room once dinner had been served had been swiftly cast out when Perry had smiled politely, but pointedly, at them all. The formality of life at Masonbrook was slowly morphing under her reign, and Xavier wasn’t displeased about it. Especially not at moments like these when it meant they were in as much privacy as they could expect at the castle.

  Edward swallowed thickly. “Mother had this affair when she found out Father had a mistress in Luxembourg. He was visiting a lot, and I knew this about her already—she liked to think she was punishing him for having a mistress.

  “According to Drake, she had a long term affair with this man, and eventually, she fell pregnant.”

  The three members of Edward’s audience choked at his words. Perry, who’d been reaching for the glass in front of her, accidentally knocked its contents over. She tossed her napkin on the spillage as she gaped at her husband. “Marianne was pregnant by another man?” she repeated.

  “Yes,” Edward said stiffly, his gaze fixed on the woodgrain. With his free hand, he traced the line, apparently not even seeing the water that had pooled close to his fingers. “She had an abortion, and then separated from her lover. When he found out, he plotted some revenge of his own.”

  George narrowed his eyes, but his voice was equally as gritty as he asked, “Why don’t you name him? Why do you keep saying ‘the man’?”

  “Because the minute I tell you his name, you’ll hate Mother, and this isn’t her fault.”

  For a second, Xavier was stunned beyond belief. There was only one reason why George would care, so many years later… “No. It isn’t possible,” he whispered, his hands clenching around his own napkin.

  Edward finally looked up and over at him. His mouth trembled as he nodded.

  “What? Who is it?” George demanded.

  Perry licked her lips. “What’s going on, loves?”

  Xavier swallowed. “The man…Marianne’s lover, it was Laurence Prichard.”

  Her scowl was dark. “Wait a minute. I saw his name on Google. Wasn’t he…?”

  And like that, the peaceful moment crashed and burned. George got to his feet, and with one fell swoop, slid his hand across the table, knocking centuries old china and porcelain to the ground with a lack of care that even Xavier didn’t feel. Because at that moment, he wasn’t feeling anything.

  “No.” George slammed his fists down against the table. “I won’t believe it.”

  Edward shook his head. “I wish it weren’t the truth, George. But it is.”

  The pain that flashed over his younger’s cousin’s features hurt Xavier. “No.
I refuse to believe mother was the reason we were kidnapped.”

  “It would seem that is the way of it.”

  The words were softly whispered, but George heard them. His head bucked like he’d just been punched in the face, then he spun on his heel and strode out of the room. After he’d slammed the door, Perry jumped to her feet, but Xavier grabbed her hand across the table and stated firmly, “No. Let him process this himself, Perry.”

  “But he needs me!” she cried.

  “No. He needs time,” Xavier insisted. She tried to evade his hands, tried to dislodge his grip, but he remained firm. “He’ll only say something to upset you, and none of us want that. Especially when he doesn’t even mean it.”

  Her mouth trembled. “He shouldn’t be alone at a moment like this.”

  Edward let out a shaky sigh. “Xavier’s right, darling. George needs a moment. He’ll go to the gym and beat ten rounds of shit out of the punchbag. He’ll be back and he’ll be better for it.” He shot Xavier a look, and the truth was couched within it—George would be back, but he wouldn’t be better for it.

  “What a fucking mess,” Xavier spat, his fingers clawing into fists atop the table. “So, what? You said the guy in the photos with De Montfort is Prichard’s sibling?”

  “His brother, Jacob,” Edward confirmed.

  “And what? What’s his play here?” Perry asked on a squeak.

  Edward shrugged. “I don’t know. It would seem he’s looking to avenge his brother… but it’s not like we’ve done anything to hurt him ever, is it?”

  “No, but the establishment has. Marianne had an abortion, doing away with Prichard’s child, then Prichard was killed for taking revenge. God only knows what something like that can do to a man. A close brother could want to take up the cause. Stranger things have happened.”

  “This is crazy,” Perry said softly.

  “No, what’s crazy is the fact that something’s going on that is evading all of us.”

  “Like what?” Xavier demanded.

  “Like the fact we have moles in our guards. And codes of said moles that Ferdinand L’Argeneau has used to gain access to our private rooms.”

  Xavier grimaced as a thought occurred to him—a spanner in the works of Edward’s theory. “Did George tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  He rubbed his chin. “If you’re trying to imply that L’Argeneau is involved, I doubt it. He tried to match George with his younger daughter before the wedding.”

  “He’d better have damn well turned her down!” Perry said on a low growl.

  Edward snorted. “Of course he did. Don’t be silly, Perry.” As he pondered the situation, he slowly shook his head. “No, Xavier. That was either a final play at manipulation or an attempt to dispel our suspicions. I know L’Argeneau accessed my father’s rooms recently.”

  Perry shuffled in her seat. “Drake told you,” she accused.

  “Drake and George told me,” he corrected coolly, his gaze chilly as he scanned it over his wife. “As you should have done.”

  “Told you what?”

  She hunched her shoulders. “You remember when you showed me the secret passage to the Tulip Room?”

  He frowned. “Yes. What about it?” Though he could remember the inferno they’d created together, he highly doubted she was talking about that delicious lovemaking of theirs.

  “Well, L’Argeneau kind of burst his way into the ward and he was making all kinds of accusations.”

  When she nipped at her bottom lip, he chivvied her along. “What kind of accusations?”

  “He was making out that we’d had a hand in killing her, Xavier.” Edward shot him a look.

  “But that makes no sense. I spoke with Drake about it. He said she was very weak because of all the drugs she used to take,” she persevered.

  For the first time since this discussion had begun, a lightness overcame Edward as he laughed. It was a cold laugh, granted, but his amusement was genuine. “The woman rattled, Perry. That’s how many drugs she was taking. If it wasn’t to stay thin, it was to stay awake. And if it wasn’t for that, it was because she was bored. She also drank, and she barely ate anything.

  “When I found out she’d died of the flu, it didn’t particularly come as a surprise.”

  “Were you relieved?”

  The question had Edward rearing back. “Excuse me?”

  Perry wriggled her shoulders. “Drake said you’d been estranged for a while. Had been sharing separate bedrooms.” She pursed her lips. “And L’Argeneau said she knew a lot of secrets that the family wouldn’t have wanted her to share.”

  “She couldn’t have shared them,” he countered. “We were under no threat from her. If she’d wanted any kind of settlement at all, it would have been suicide to utter a peep about anything she might have learned.”

  Perry frowned. “Why?”

  “The prenup, Perry.”

  “The one I didn’t sign, you mean?” she asked, her brow cocked. But her admission stunned Xavier.

  “You didn’t ask Perry to sign one?”

  “His parents tried, but he stopped me from agreeing to anything.” She lengthened her neck like an irritated peahen. “Why? Don’t you trust me?”

  “Implicitly,” Xavier immediately retorted, cutting her billowing agitation before it could swell further. “I’m just surprised Marianne let you get away with it.”

  “Marianne had no say in it,” Edward said, his tone thick. “They forced me to marry Arabella. Said I was shaming the family with my lack of responsibility. They said marrying her, settling down, and bearing the next heir was one way to apologize for my inability to do my duty.”

  His words sounded exactly like something Marianne would say. God, his tanta had had the ability of wielding words with the precision of a knife.

  “Oh, Edward. I’m sorry, darling.” Before either of them could do more than jump in surprise, she’d scraped her chair back and had rushed over to his side. She flung herself over his armrest and curled her arms around his neck.

  Though Edward looked shell-shocked at the attention, he let out a shuddery breath and sank into her hold.

  “It’s okay, Perry. I’m fine now. I have you.”

  “Why didn’t you make me sign a prenup?”

  “I told you before,” he whispered. “You’re my life. If you go, you can have anything you want because you’ll only go if I’ve done something to make you leave. I know you love me.”

  A sob escaped her. “Don’t say that. Why do you think I’ll leave you?”

  His tone was solemn, “Everyone leaves, Perry. Everyone.”

  “Not me,” she vowed, and Xavier felt his own throat grow thick in response to her words.

  The oath was palpable. So strong that it seemed to beat like a heart, making the air pulse with it.

  Edward nuzzled his temple against hers. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Arabella is gone, and I did nothing to harm her.”

  “I never really thought you did, sweetheart. I was just asking why L’Argeneau was so certain that someone had done something to Arabella.”

  Xavier, though the poignancy of the moment had affected him too, forced his mind to focus. The instant he did, a memory came to him. “Edward, remember when Philippe told us there was evidence Arabella had been murdered?”

  “No. I remembered that too.” Perry shook her head. “Drake said that was a ruse. He’d found some gossip on the Dark Web that the UnReals were using to recruit new members.”

  Edward frowned. “No, that can’t be true.”

  “Why can’t it?” Perry asked, straightening up a little.

  “Because I looked into it myself. Had my man, Markov, investigate for me.”

  “Investigate what?”

  “The claims Drake came up with. He found something.”

  Xavier nodded, feeling his blood start to race like a hound that had finally picked up the scent of the fox. “The doctors who cared for Arabella, all of the paramedics who transport
ed her to the hospital, the man who declared her DOA, and the pathologist who practiced the autopsy…over the space of the last two years, they’ve all been killed.”

  “Surely not!” Perry argued, but her arms tensed around Edward. “You’re looking for conspiracies.”

  “No.” Xavier wished they were. “The deaths looked like accidents, but nobody’s that unlucky, Perry. Without that singular link, Arabella, there’d be no reason for suspicion to fall anywhere. Accidents happen. But with L’Argeneau asking questions about her death? Piecing that together with what Markov found out…” Typical that he’d been the last to hear of L’Argeneau’s sneak visit into the castle—even if he’d been the one to deal with the direct aftermath.

  Perry had seemed dazed that afternoon, but he’d mistaken it for her being on shaky ground after the shooting. He’d never imagined it could be to do with Edward’s old father-in-law.

  The sneaky, lying bastard.

  “And this so-called gossip about Arabella’s death being some kind of cover-up to hide family secrets was on a recruiting sight for the UnReals?” Edward asked, his tone urgent as he broke into Xavier’s grim thoughts.

  Perry nodded. “Or so he said.” She prodded Edward in the arm. “If you’d have told Drake instead of keeping your own investigation from him, he might have been able to help instead of dealing with the situation blindly.”

  Edward held up a hand. “Markov works unofficially for me, love. Even my father wouldn’t approve of my using him. We’ve been friends for years, and using the security services was a surefire way to clue my father into things I didn’t always want to bother him with. I trust Markov implicitly. With my life, and more importantly, yours. You can be assured, he’s the best.”

  “Veronia and Russia aren’t exactly on friendly terms, Perry,” Xavier explained. “There’s a lot of history between us.”

  She blinked, then laughed a little. “Jesus, my life belongs in a history book, doesn’t it?”

  “It does now,” Edward said softly, but he rubbed his chin against her shoulder to comfort her.

  Perry let out a sigh, but resolutely demanded, “Why would anyone want to murder those doctors?”