The entire room goes silent.
Finally, Imogen speaks. “I assume that you wish for me to marry and that the man be of your choice.”
“Not entirely. While we do wish you to marry so that the Sinclair line continues, Parliament has decided that it shall be your choice.”
“I’m sensing a caveat,” Charlotte says.
“She can agree to honor the marriage that her parents arranged for her. Or she can choose from a list of suggested and approved suitors.”
“Every girl’s dream,” Tressie says wryly.
“Forgive me, but not really. Why the sudden change?” I don’t trust him. It’s too easy.
Davies gives Beaumont a pointed look. “My sources say that you know the truth of your parents’ death and we would rather that not get out. For your silence on this matter and Queen Imogen’s agreement, we will forget all about your exile.”
“Too bad we won’t,” Theo says.
“Why is it so important that no one knows the truth?” I lean back in my chair. Della’s hand finds mine and our fingers twine together.
“Because should the truth get out, the Murrays would want revenge and they would plunge our country into a bloody civil war.” He wipes his mouth and pins me with a look. “You see, the Murrays descended from an old line of Scottish dukes who think that they should rule the Isle of Man instead of the Sinclairs.”
“I know my family’s history.”
“Then you know that Beaumont is a direct descendant of the last Murray duke and he wed your mother in secret. They went against what everyone had advised.”
“We would have united the families,” Beaumont interjects. “We wanted peace.”
“There was already a contract in place. You and Amelia went behind our backs and nearly sent the entire country into war with what would have been our former ally. We did not need an alliance with Scotland and we certainly did not need a war with the English Crown.”
“Do you mean that Beaumont and our mother were married?” I ask. Can this night get any stranger?
“It was annulled. No children were produced from that union. Legally, anyway.” A smug smile pushes up the corner of his mouth. “Guess love didn’t win after all.”
Beaumont’s eyes blaze but he doesn’t say anything.
Davies dismisses him completely. “I’ve always thought it rather funny that a duke’s son went into security in order to protect the woman he loved, only to watch her marry another and then die at the hand of his sister.”
What a fucking, unfeeling arsehole.
Aiden and Pierce look at me with huge eyes. They don’t need to hear any of this.
“I’ll take them to the kitchen,” Della says and kisses my cheek. “You can bring me up to speed later.”
“I love you.”
She smiles as I stand and pull out her chair. “I know.”
Tressie stands up as well. “I’ll go with you.”
I grab her hand as she walks by. “Thank you.”
She gives me a short nod and pats the top of my hand with her free one before letting go. Everyone, including Davies, waits until Della and Tressie usher the boys out of the room before continuing our conversation.
“This is why children are not allowed at the table,” he says with all smugness.
“We don’t normally talk of death and bloody civil wars in front of the boys,” Charlotte says. “It’s not great dinner conversation for adults, much less kids.”
“Then it’s a very good thing you are not the one to become queen,” Davies retorts, and Charlotte’s mouth twists.
Theo leans forward. “Let me get this straight. We have to do what you say in order to come home, but technically we could announce what happened to the Sinclair children to the entire world and make you look like a complete arse.”
“I suppose you could.”
For the first time since we sat down to eat, I smile. Hope bubbles up inside me. “Then let us negotiate. We get to return at our leisure and you will welcome us with open arms. Imogen shall marry whoever the hell she—”
“I’ll do it,” Imogen cuts in, and all attention is riveted on her. “But no conditions on my siblings…and you can’t hang anything over their heads.”
“It’s not that simple, Your Majesty.”
“Then make it that simple,” she snaps.
“We will have to concoct a story about the girl and—”
“Hang on. Who got her pregnant?”
Davies looks at me in confusion. “Who was pregnant?”
“The girl my father was having an affair with,” I say, careful not to reveal too much.
“She wasn’t pregnant,” Davies counters.
My gaze cuts to Beaumont. “Then what was she?”
“She was…” Davies sighs, like he can’t bear the thought of having to explain anything to us. “I thought Beaumont told you.”
“We want to make sure we’re all in agreement,” Imogen says. “Do go on.”
“She was Beaumont’s sister and frankly she was obsessed with the king consort. Enough to make up stories about the queen. About rumored affairs she had, but nothing could be substantiated. As far as I know, the king never invited her into his bed.”
“That is not the story we were told,” I say flatly.
“I don’t blame him.” Davies looks at Beaumont and then at me again. “Who would want to be responsible for their mad sister’s death? Not only that, he failed to protect the queen and king. Amelia died in his arms. When we tried to move her body, he fought the guards and started bellowing about how he would have his revenge. At the time, we thought he meant against the guards, me, and possibly Parliament.”
I steeple my hands together. “How did you surmise this?”
“He didn’t shoot anyone else that day, and not for lack of opportunity.”
“Beaumont. Care to clarify for us?” I ask. The truth is somewhere in this madness.
“I didn’t know—she, Mary Charles, was my baby sister. She swore the king was the father and…I didn’t know what to do. What to think…Amelia—Queen Amelia said he was sterile, that the illness…I did not lie about that. Amelia would not have lied about that to me. She wanted children, wanted every single one of you, and she had so much pressure to have a girl. Unbearable amount of pressure from Parliament, and I loved her. I couldn’t stand to see her suffer.” Beaumont’s face is a mask of raw pain. “Although I can’t stand the thought of agreeing with this monster, he has a point. Your parents, for whatever reason, decided to care more about themselves than anyone else. No one was spared from their love, their anger, or their indifference once they were done. I don’t say this to hurt any of you, only for you to know why their deaths had to be a secret.
“The country was done with them. Parliament was done as well. I can’t tell you how many times Amelia wouldn’t bother to show up for meetings. How many times Henry bankrolled trips on the back of our citizens. They allowed Sinclair Enterprises to be run into the ground. They did not care for anyone, not even their children in the end, and that is the biggest scandal of all.” He laughs bitterly, then turns his attention to Davies. “You say you have no evidence, but I saw Mary Charles with Henry. I saw her sneak into his room and not come out until morning. She would do the same with Amelia. Not that it matters to you. Not that it matters to anyone but me. In the end Amelia and Henry cared only for themselves and not for the ones who gave up everything for them.”
“It matters to us,” I say quietly. “Your sister’s death, our parents’…they all matter to us.”
“Are you admitting fathering the royal Sinclairs?” Davies asks, his eyes narrowing and his mouth pinching.
Naturally, that is all the bastard got from Beaumont’s rough speech. His precious line might be tainted.
Beaumont sneers at him. “To you, I admit nothing.”
Imogen stands and we stand with her. “I’ve heard enough. Davies, do be a dear and inform the Isle that we are coming home.”
Chapter 22
Della
It’s long past Aiden and Pierce’s bedtime. They’ve had their showers, brushed their teeth, and are dressed in matching pajamas that have helicopters printed on the shirts. So have I, except my pajamas have bunnies on them.
“Tell us a story, Del— Momma,” Pierce says with a missing tooth of a grin. “We can call you Momma now. Dad says you won’t mind.”
My heart feels like it’s about to burst in the best possible way. “He’s right. I love it so much.”
“So much you want to marry it,” Aiden says with a snigger.
I nod. “Too bad I married your dad first.”
“You’re in l-o-v-e and kiss,” Aiden sings. “So grossssss.”
“Ewwww,” Pierce says right before he takes a running leap onto his bed. “Bet you can’t jump as high as I can.”
Aiden takes his brother up on that bet and performs his own acrobatic stunt. “I beat you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Momma, who won?”
I’m a total bossypants who doesn’t mind telling it like it is, but there is no way I’m picking a winner between these two sweet things. “I haven’t had my turn.” Backing up a little, I run as fast as I can and jump over the footboard of the guest bed in their nursery.
“Whoa.”
“She won.”
“Yeah.”
Pleased as punch with myself, I sit down and cross my legs at the knees. “Who wants a bedtime story?”
“Me!” Aiden’s hand shoots into the air like a rocket. “I’ve got a new one.”
“Okay, me first, then Pierce,” I agree.
Pierce grins shyly and shakes his head. “Aiden remembers it better.”
“Remembers what?”
“The story of how our parents met—before you, Della.” Their blues eyes look at me with expectation and I smile.
“When did your dad tell you?” I ask.
“Last night.”
It’s a great thing. A wonderful and amazing thing. They’re so excited and I’m excited for them. How selfish would it be if I weren’t, you know?
I can only imagine that I had to have had that exact look on my face when I talked about my momma with Tressie. I don’t remember a single time that she looked unhappy or sad when we talked about her. My mom was her best friend…I have no idea who their mom is and, like I promised Colin, I want to help them remember. Want them to know why they have auburn hair and love to eat avocados.
I don’t bother to hide my smile. “I cannot wait to hear the story.”
“Once upon a time”—I swear my heart melts at Aiden’s earnest expression as he begins to tell the story—“there was a beautiful queen.”
“And prince,” Pierce shouts. “A prince with a guitar that played rock and roll and shot out fire from the end.”
My stomach tumbles a little. Colin doesn’t play an instrument—or maybe that’s why he doesn’t play, because of their mother’s death. Wait, did Theo let them watch the Mad Max remake while we were gone?
Just listen to their story, Della.
“Anyway, Queen Amelia lived in a tall, tall tower with ivy that climbed up to the very top. One day she was sad and alone, wishing someone could rule the Isle with her. So she made a wish and—”
“Her favorite rock band showed up and played her most favorite song.”
“And then the prince climbed up the tower, using the ivy. He gave her a million sunflowers and asked her to marry him. Then they lived happily ever after.”
Pierce frowns. “How can they live happily ever after if our mom died? I asked Dad, but he said we would talk about it later. But I don’t want to wait until later. Do you know, Momma?”
I can’t breathe. I literally can’t suck in enough air because all the oxygen left the room. The details…the prince climbing the tower, the queen’s favorite rock band, and giving her sunflowers.
That’s almost identical to the story of how Colin’s parents met.
Oh God.
Aiden and Pierce aren’t his. They’re…they’re—
I shove the thought away. Colin can explain the story and probably it’s something he told them and borrowed from his parents because he wanted them to—
“I’m afraid I don’t, but I do want to know everything about her, so you can always remember her,” I say slowly. “The one thing I do know is that she loved you two more than anything.”
Colin bursts in and my stupid, idiotic, dumb heart beats happily at the sight of him. At his light brown hair and forest green eyes. At his sculpted face and body. At the way his smile is caught between sexy and affectionate.
“Sorry, I tried to get away sooner, but someone had to keep the peace,” he says, then rubs his hands together in anticipation. “Shall I tell you a new story tonight? The one where Queen Chloe’s royal protector slew the dragon?”
“The boys already told your new story,” I say, then lick my lips. “The one where their parents met, got married, and lived happily ever after.”
His eyes widen slightly and he tugs on his ear. “Good. Right. Time for bed, boys.”
“But I thought we were sleeping at Grandma Tressie’s tonight,” Aiden protests.
Colin’s gaze flicks to me for a brief second. “It’s best if we stay here tonight. Tressie needs her beauty sleep.”
I slip off the bed and help Colin tuck the boys in, giving them hugs and kisses. Their strong, little arms wrap around my neck as they whisper good night while everything inside me wants to run away.
But I don’t run away.
Colin holds the door. “After you.”
“Thanks,” I mumble and force myself to walk to our bedroom instead of running home.
I can feel Colin walking right behind me, then he lengthens his strides to walk beside me. He attempts to hold my hand, but I pull away and ball it into a fist instead.
Thankfully, our bedroom is right around the corner. I yank open the door, barreling inside.
“Della, please allow me to explain,” he begins.
The door softly closes behind me and I whirl around.
“Tell me the truth—is that the story of how your parents met, or how you met the boys’ momma?” I all but choke out the words.
“It’s how Aiden and Pierce’s parents,” he visibly swallows, “my parents met. They’re my brothers, Della.”
I stare at him, all light-headed…as if a trapdoor fell out from under me and I’m falling with no end in sight. There’s no up and no down, nothing but darkness seeping into my very bright and happy present…and future.
Chapter 23
Colin
Della’s eyes are huge and the shine that always is lurking below the surface dulls.
“You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie. I didn’t tell you the truth.”
“Which makes it a lie.” She takes a step forward, her finger ramming me in the chest. “You lied to me—the one person who would have understood. Would have kept your stupid secrets.”
“The boys don’t even know.” I swallow the urge to shout the words. “Only my brother and sisters, and the staff from the Isle.”
“An entire country knows but I, your wife and best friend for the past ten years, didn’t know until five minutes ago?” She stabs me in the chest again and the pain on her face makes me wish it were with a knife. Because I bloody deserve one right in the gut. “I get that you kept your old life from me a secret, especially with your parents…but those boys—I love them and I loved them because they are—were you.”
I grab her wrist and place her palm over my heart, covering her hand with my own. “I’m sorry, so bloody sorry. You’re right, I should have told you, but at first I couldn’t. You assumed—everyone assumed—they were mine. And the boys, they were babies—I thought I was doing the right thing.
“Actually, you know what. I did do the right thing. I did what was best for them,” I add.
Her face softens, but he
r eyes are full of tears. “I know you did,” she replies softly. “I just wish that when you trusted me enough to help you, by marrying you, that you’d told me about them as well so I could have made a more informed decision about changing our relationship. About sharing my heart with you. And my biggest secret.”
Panic and anger set in. “Why, so you could keep me at a distance? Let me fuck you, but not love you? Allow you to pretend to be my wife in nearly every possible way, and then when our contract was up, you’d just leave? Fuck that, Della. Fuck that to hell and back.”
Tears fall freely down her cheeks, wounding me in ways I didn’t think possible. “I can’t have children, Colin.”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” I say fiercely.
“It matters to me.”
“Why? Why is it so bloody important to you when it’s not to me,” I demand.
“Because you let me believe that you’d already had that experience with someone. You have your boys, your sons, so it didn’t matter if I couldn’t give you that. Don’t you know how much I love you? How much I want to give you? I can’t buy you anything, can’t give you kids…can’t do anything but love your boys so that they never forget who they are and where they came from. Just like Tressie did for me.”
“You still can. Help me tell them the truth. Be at my side,” I say earnestly, wrapping my free arm around her. I all but drag her over the small space between us to me. “They love you, Della. I do, too.”
Her eyes close, teardrops glistening on her lashes. “You make it sound so easy, but I feel betrayed. I feel like I made a decision without all the facts.”
I lift my chin and stare down my nose at her. “Does it mean you want out?”
“I don’t know.”
Relief kicks at my abs, making them jump inward. “What can I do to change your mind? What can I say? Assure you? Buy for you?” I hate myself for saying that, but I’m desperate to keep her.
“Nothing.” Her beautiful eyes open. “There’s nothing you can do but give me time to think about my future.”
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