by Abby Green
“Is there any way I can help? Or would you rather I just shut up?”
Despite his bone-deep misery, Rafe had to smile at his younger brother. “Just being here is help enough.” Regret for the years he could have had with Roland coursed through him and he tossed an arm around the other man’s shoulders in a quick and affectionate hug.
When they reached the chauffeured limo waiting at the exit, Rafe was surprised to see his father seated inside the car.
Before he could utter a greeting, Victor held up a hand. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“You do?” Rafe smiled wryly. “Good, because I’m not sure I do anymore.”
“Raphael, I’m sure you think I’m being so helpful out of a desire to link my house with the Wyndhams’.” He grimaced. “And I admit, there’s a part of me that would like that very much. But that’s not why I’m here. In fact, I’ll leave if you’d prefer I not involve myself in your life.”
It was a shock to see that his father’s intent blue eyes were the same ones that stared back at him every morning. Quietly, he said, “I believe you have my best interests at heart, Father. And that’s good enough for me.” And he realized it was true.
The moisture that gleamed in the older man’s eyes embarrassed them both, and there was silence in the car for a moment.
The Grand Duke inclined his head. “I never should have tried to force you into a marriage based on—”
“Lies?” asked Rafe.
“Half truths, at the very least.” The older man cleared his throat. “I know what it’s like to love someone. And it was clear when we saw you together that you and Elizabeth were very much in love. Being my son, it’s entirely possibly that you’ve done something unforgivably stupid—”
Both his sons laughed and the tension in the vehicle dissipated.
Then Rafe sobered. “I hope it’s not unforgivable.”
Slowly, hesitantly, his father reached over and laid a comforting hand on his son’s knee. “We’ll do whatever we can to help you make it right.”
Several hours later, a servant knocked on the door of the smoking room where Rafe, his father and his brother were closeted.
The Grand Duke bellowed, “Enter,” and Trumble came into the room, carrying a single sheet of paper on a silver tray.
“A telephone message for you, Your Grace.”
Victor practically leaped on the man. “Well, give it here! What does it say?” The paper slipped from his grasp and fluttered toward the floor, but before it could land Roland had snatched it up again.
“The Princess has arrived at the palace,” he announced. Then he cleared his throat. “She, ah, visited a man, an American attorney named Samuel Flynn in Catalina, Arizona, before leaving the States.” He looked questioningly at Rafe. “Friend of yours?”
Rafe shook his head. “Apparently a friend of hers,” he said in a grim tone.
“Will she see you if you call on her?” asked his father.
“Not a chance.” Once he would have endured torture rather than admit to his father that he’d made a mistake. Today, it no longer seemed to matter.
“Well, then, we’ll have to get you in without being announced.”
Two hours later, Victor’s limousine was pulling up to the guardhouse at the palace gates.
“The Grand Duke of Thortonburg and my son Roland, Prince of Thortonburg,” he announced imperiously to the guard as the man checked the two men seated in the rear interior of the vehicle.
The guard punched some buttons on the face of a cell phone and received permission to admit them. As the gates slowly opened, and the limo rolled into the lush green gardens that led to the palace, Roland eyed the back of their chauffeur’s head and chuckled. “Very good, Father. Very good.”
The chauffeur glanced over his shoulder, blue eyes gleaming. “Thank you, Father.”
In the end, it was even simpler than Rafe had anticipated.
Roland and the Grand Duke left him along a deeply wooded riding path close to the inner edge of the estate. Striding along the path, Rafe looked around to get his bearings. He’d chosen this location because he knew the woods grew up to the edge of the gardens near here. The guards around the palace grounds generally stayed within sight but not necessarily within hearing of the royal family. With that in mind, he hoped to get close enough to the house so that when Elizabeth came out for a stroll, he could speak to her even if he had to sit out here all night.
He couldn’t believe how easy it had been, considering the King’s well-known fetish for security. But the Grand Duke would never be expected to be a threat. And since the King’s own security team had personally approved any chauffeurs entering any premises where the royal family was in residence, the man driving the Grand Duke’s own limo had been cleared when his uniform insignia identified him as someone previously checked out.
To his right Rafe could see the beginning of a small clearing. As he got a better look, he muttered, “I’ll be damned.”
The palace grounds were enormous and he wasn’t at all familiar with them. The sight of a glass-walled gazebo in the middle of the clearing made him shake his head wryly. Could it be the same one? It looked exactly like the one engraved in his memories—surely there couldn’t be another so similar?
The drop of rain that hit his left cheek surprised him, so immersed in his surveillance was he. But as the drops quickly became a deluge, he sprinted for the only available cover, the little glass gazebo where he’d made love to Elizabeth the very first time.
Only moments after he rushed through the little entrance into the dry interior, a noise had him whirling to look for a pursuer. Elizabeth halted halfway through the door, her hand to her throat in a gesture of shock that matched the expression on her face.
“Rafe!”
He’d recovered his wits while she goggled at him, though her appearance was as much a surprise to him. “Why don’t you come in before you get soaked?”
“I—” She glanced behind her at the downpour. “What are you doing here?”
“Coming after you.”
She straightened, and he could see her regaining her composure. She wore jeans and an oversize sweater, but when she moved into the room, her manner was so regal that she might as well have had on a crown. “You’ve wasted a trip.” The words dripped ice.
“Why did you come in here?”
Her eyelids flickered. “I was out for a walk and when it started to rain, I simply ran for the nearest cover. I didn’t come here for any other reason.”
He might have said something at that, but a man getting ready to beg for his life was smart not to antagonize the woman he wanted to share it with.
Again, she questioned him. “Why did you come here?”
“I can’t forget it.”
She blinked, looked at him through cool green eyes. “I beg your pardon?”
“Back in Phoenix you told me to forget about marriage. I can’t.”
“That’s what you wormed your way in here to tell me? How did you get in here, anyway?” She held up a hand. “Never mind.” Turning, she looked through the glass panes of the gazebo window. “Go away.”
Her back was rigid, her arms hugged closely together over the swell of the baby. He could see her in profile, her lips pressed tightly together and her chin trembling.
“I’ve made peace with my father,” he said softly.
“That’s nice.” She didn’t look at him, but her tone wasn’t quite so belligerent.
There was another awkward silence while he tried to think of something brilliant that would persuade her to give him another chance. Finally he just blurted out the words that were reverberating in his mind. “You said you loved me.”
She flinched. Lifting a hand, she placed it against the condensation on the window. When she removed it, her small handprint was visible. But it was so humid in the garden house that even as they watched, the outline began to fade. “Some things aren’t meant to be permanent,” she said sadly.
“Elizabeth…” Was there no way to reach her? “If you don’t want to get married, we don’t have to. We can live together for the rest of our lives without making it legal. Just please—” His voice cracked. Stopping for a moment, he closed the space between them and stood directly behind her. “Elizabeth, I don’t want to live without you. Please come back to me.”
She didn’t respond, but she didn’t rebuff him, either. Raising his hands, he nearly placed them lightly on her shoulders but after a moment he let them drop. “Please,” he repeated. “Give me another chance. I was wrong about everything. Your father, my father, you—”
“You would live with me even if I refused to marry you? Why? So you can hound me to death until I agree to make your child legal?” The words were lightly mocking, but he heard the pain underlying them, and his heart sank.
Quietly he said, “Some of us learn lessons more slowly than others. It took me far too long to learn mine.”
He took a deep breath. “I love you.”
Her emerald eyes widened and he could see the flare of an emotion she couldn’t hide.
“I love you,” he said again, pressing his advantage. “I should have told you before. I should have trusted you—”
She put a hand over his lips. “It’s all right, Rafe. We’ll make it all right now.” She cradled his face in her hands and lifted herself on tiptoe against him.
Rafe gathered her closer and fit his mouth to hers, sweet relief flowing through him. Despite everything, she’d forgiven him. Could she ever understand how much he loved her? His mouth grew more demanding as he dragged her close, his body urging him to demonstrate his need for her.
Her hand smoothed over his shoulder and slipped around to the back of his neck as her tongue began to dance with his and her body softened and melted against him. In seconds the kiss heated into a flashfire that threatened to rage out of control.
The only thing that saved him from dragging her to the floor where they stood was the moisture on his face.
No, on her face.
The little annoyance crept into his consciousness, interrupting the intensity of the kiss, and he tore his mouth away from hers so he could wipe the rain from their faces. Only it wasn’t rain.
Elizabeth was crying.
He gentled his hands on her, slipping his palms up to cradle her jaw. “What’s wrong, Princess? Is it me?”
“N-no.” She shook her head. Her eyes were as green as spring grass, wet as the windowpanes around them, and tears continued to flow down her cheeks. She brought her hands up to cover his.
“I’ll retain the title,” he said desperately. Though it wasn’t the path he’d intended his life to take, he’d do it in a minute if she’d agree to stay. To his shock, the words didn’t bother him as once they would have.
But she shook her head again. “It’s not the title. I’ll love you no matter what you want to do with your life.”
As the impact of what she was saying sank in, he felt the fist squeezing his heart begin to loosen its grip. He let his hands slide down from her face, turning them to take hers in a gentle clasp as he kissed her gently. “So if there’s no problem, why are you crying?”
“I’m crying because I’m so happy.” She leaned toward him for another kiss.
But at the last moment, he remembered something. “Just who in the hell,” he said, holding his mouth a breath above hers, “is Samuel Flynn of Catalina, Arizona?”
“Who do you think he is?” Though she didn’t withdraw, there was a sudden still quality about her that told him what she feared.
“I don’t believe you’re involved with him, because you love me.”
She laughed, her face lightening and her body relaxing again. “So modest.”
“But he’s someone very important. He’s the ‘other matter’ you came to Phoenix about, isn’t he?”
She nodded. “There’s reason to believe my brother James survived the kidnapping.”
“What?” He was thunderstruck. Feeling the mound of their child pressed against him, he could appreciate for the first time the hell the King and Queen must have gone through and the thought made him nearly ill.
“It’s true,” she confirmed. “He almost certainly survived. We traced him to an orphans’ home in Arizona and narrowed our search to three men. Sam Flynn was the second.”
“And—?”
“He isn’t my brother. He has a scar to prove it. Which means that the third man probably is the heir to the throne. My sisters are waiting for him to return home so we can speak with him.”
“My God! Your parents will be so—wait a minute. That’s why you weren’t quite as concerned about this new law, isn’t it?” Remorse struck him anew for the horrible words he’d thrown at her.
She hesitated. “Until James is found, the first male heir could well be the Crown Prince. I am worried, but I also know my chances are as good of having a female child. If it’s a son and we don’t want him to be king, it could be done, but it would be a tedious process. As a last resort, we can petition the parliament to pass over him.”
Rafe gathered her into his arms. “We’ll deal with it together when the time comes, if the time comes. And if your brother is found, then we can just be an average pair of doting parents.”
She smiled. “Well, perhaps not quite average.”
“The important thing,” he said, drawing her even nearer, “is that we spend the rest of our lives together.”
And as he found her lips and claimed his princess, he felt something inside him click into place, something he’d waited for his whole life. He was loved.
Epilogue
Elizabeth stood at the back of Wynton Chapel, her sisters gathered around her.
Alexandra, ever practical, had a list in her hand. “Now, Serena, don’t forget to hand your flowers to Katherine right before they go up to the altar. She’ll hand them to me. When Elizabeth hands you her bouquet, you two repeat the same thing so your hands are free to help with her train—” She broke off, fishing a tissue from her bodice to dab at her upper lip.
“Are you all right?” Katherine stopped adjusting Elizabeth’s bridal veil and took her eldest sister by the elbow. “I thought this morning sickness stuff was only for the first three months.”
“The doctor swears it will ease any day now,” Alexandra replied, taking deep, shaky breaths. “If he’s wrong, I’m going to have him beheaded.”
“All you have to do is make it through the wedding,” Serena said. “Then you can throw up all you want.”
“Thanks,” said Alexandra dryly.
“The wedding,” Serena repeated. “I’m so glad at least one of us is getting married here. The rest of us will live vicariously through you, Elizabeth.”
“And it will make Mummy and Daddy so happy.” Katherine’s face lost a bit of its happy glow. “I still feel badly that I deprived them of the chance to throw us a big ‘do.”’
“Mummy and Daddy are happy for all of us,” Elizabeth reassured them all, thinking back to her mother’s words before she’d left for Phoenix the last time. “They wanted each of us to find love and hold it tight for the rest of our lives. And we have.”
“I only wish we could have found James,” Alexandra said. “What a wedding present that would have been!”
There was a moment of silence as they contemplated how very close they might be to giving their parents the gift of a lifetime.
“One last group hug,” Serena said as she sniffed and dabbed at a tear. “The music’s started and we have to start down the aisle any minute.”
The four sisters huddled together, Katherine fussing at them not to wrinkle Elizabeth’s gown.
She loved them so much, Elizabeth thought, swallowing tears of her own. It was almost inconceivable to think that they’d set out for the States mere months ago. So many events had occurred that it seemed much longer.
And now they would all be married. The wedding would barely be over before preparations for the coronation anniver
sary celebration would move into high gear. Mitch and Alexandra, along with Katherine and her new husband, Trey, as well as Serena and Gabe, would be staying in Wynborough until after the festivities.
Her smile faded a bit. The only person missing was Laura, whom they all cared for dearly. But she was needed at the Colton ranch in case John Colton showed up during Mitch’s absence.
The wedding coordinator hissed at them then, and a maid handed Katherine her flowers. Katherine blew Elizabeth a kiss as she started up the aisle, and Alexandra gave her a sickly smile when her turn came. Serena accepted her bridesmaid’s bouquet and flashed her one last wink before moving toward the front of the enormous old church.
Then it was her turn. King Phillip, who had been watching his other three daughters, came to her side and offered her his arm. One single tear slipped down his cheek and she reached up and wiped it away with her thumb.
“Don’t you start,” she said. “Serena was bad enough. I refuse to get married with smudged mascara.”
Her father’s chuckle was genuine. “Sorry. I was remembering you as a bare-bottomed baby and it suddenly hit me that very soon you’ll have a baby of your own.”
She grimaced. “I did things a bit out of order.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Her father’s tone was fierce, but his eyes softened as he looked toward the front of the chapel where the woman he’d loved for more than thirty years waited to see him give away their child. “What matters is that you and Rafe love each other, and for that, your mother and I are very, very thankful—for all four of our daughters’ marriages. Not everyone is so lucky.”
“We had a fine example to show us what it should be like.” She gave him one last, misty smile. “I love you, Daddy.”
He led her forward then. As she got near enough to the front of the church to see the tall, broad-shouldered man waiting there with his father and brother and a line of other attendants, she gave Rafe a radiant smile.
Her father was right. They were lucky.
And she intended to show Rafe every day for the rest of their lives just how much she valued his love.
