How To Love A Fake Prince (The Regency Renegades - Beauty and Titles) (A Regency Romance Story)

by Jasmine Ashford

  “Of course not,” Lola said. “And Harold is well? He must be proud, a father twice over.”

  “He is,” Annabelle said. “Although... Aaron did not know we had a male child until we got here. I am not sure it is the reason...but the situation has been tense since we arrived. Harold is his dearest friend...but I wonder if he regrets his choice.”

  “Of course he does not regret his choice,” Lola said. “He'd do it a thousand times over. He is probably just adjusting. It is odd, to watch someone else be called by your name. When I come into a play in a different part, it is always jarring to watch the new actress play my old character. He will be alright.”

  “Mmm,” Annabelle said, not quite believing her friend. Nevertheless, she put on a smile for Lola, hoping to make the best of the evening, regardless of the chaos surrounding them.

  Outside, the tension was just beginning to brew into something more. Wesley had struggled out of both their arms, and was attempting to stand on his own. However, it appeared the alcohol was starting to go to his head, and he stumbled over a pavement stone.

  “I'll find a carriage,” Aaron said. “There's no way he is walking and I am not quite ready to go.”

  “We have a long day tomorrow,” Harold said. “Perhaps we should consider just leaving.”

  “Please,” Aaron replied. “It is not uncommon for us to hit the bunk at dawn. We do not have watch hours; we are not on a schedule. The night is young.”

  Harold paused. “I am just...I want you to be well, Aaron.”

  “I am well,” Aaron replied, eyeing the road for a passing carriage.

  “Are you?” Harold asked. “Because, with all due respect, the only time you get surly is when you are hiding something, and it is usually your health.”

  “It is not that,” Aaron said, not looking at him.

  Wesley was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, a green tone taking over his usually pale skin.

  “So what is it?” Harold asked.

  Aaron took a deep breath, looking instead at the moon. “I would rather not get into it now, Harold, it is fine.”

  “What better time than now?” Harold asked, and Aaron shook his head.

  “Last time I went home, Kirsten cried for the last three days of my leave. She wanted to walk in the market, holding my hand, as she had seen you do with your children. That is all she wanted, and I could not give it to her. It has stayed with me ever since.”

  Harold felt the guilt press on his chest. “Aaron....” he said. “I am sorry. I did not....I never asked you to do sacrifice so much.”

  “Do not be ridiculous, Harold,” Aaron replied. “I do not blame you for what happened. I made my own choices. I just cannot get that image out of my head. I resent you, just as I resent any family walking down the street right now. I resent any moment of normality. Hell, Wesley, I even resent you fighting with Lola in public.”

  “I understand that,” Harold said. “But you cannot do that to yourself. You can't...”

  “Do not tell me what I can and cannot do,” Aaron shook his head. “This is how I need to work through it, and so this is what I'll do, alright?”

  Harold fell silent a long moment. “Alright,” he said. “And do you think things will ever go back to normal? Because I feel like there is a space between us, Aaron, one which we cannot mend. A gap that we cannot close, no matter what I do to leap the distance.”

  “So maybe that is what it is,” Aaron said as he reached out to Wesley, who gagged. He wrapped an arm around his waist, making sure he did not fall. “Go ahead.”

  Harold seemed obvious to Wesley's dilemma as he looked at him in shock. “Aaron?”

  “Maybe,” Aaron repeated. “That is what it is. Maybe we have grown too far apart; we have changed too much. I do not know. I feel it too; this gap, this silence. We used to be best friends, Harold. We were brothers. So what happened?”

  “We are still brothers,” Harold replied.

  “No, we are not,” Aaron said, turning toward him. “I am dead. You are Lord Bamber now.”

  The words sent shivers down Harold's spine. A carriage eventually pulled up, and Aaron helped his first mate toward it. Harold could not move; could not do anything except stare as Aaron moved away.

  Was he right? Was their friendship forever broken? Was the Aaron he knew dead after all?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE NEW PLAN

  THE NEW PLAN

  So,” Colonel Evenclear looked between the officers in confusion. “Tell me again, because either I had too much to drink last night, or you all have an insane plan.”

  Jacob cleared his throat. “The only way Enola can guarantee her people on our side is if she is married to one of us. And as a princess, it needs to be a high ranking officer. So Major Holde has volunteered.”

  “Major Holde.” The Colonel's eyes fell on him. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I will do it, sir,” Holde answered, which did not actually answer the question.

  The colonel looked between all of them again, suspicious. They all looked tired, pale and drawn, and he wondered if it was for the same reason. He was not going to question what exactly his staff got up to when they weren't on duty. He knew that several of them had gone to the theatre; which was fine with him. However, no one had seemed to come back in a good state today.

  “And your people,” he cleared his throat as he turned to Enola. “Will believe this?”

  “If the wedding is believable enough, yes,” she replied. “Word will get to them. It will be a real wedding, after all.”

  “Well this is...original, if nothing else,” Colonel Evenclear said. “And we need those native numbers, without a doubt. So if you are all happy to do so, I cannot see the harm in it. When?”

  “Two days,” Aaron spoke up. “I have a friend who is pulling together all the arrangements down at the church. It will be a wedding worth talking about.”

  “I see,” the colonel said. “Do you need some witnesses? I'll send some of the men to attend.”

  “That would be a good idea, sir,” Jacob replied. “The more the merrier. It will all be arranged, and we'll be ready to march in three days’ time.”

  “Fine,” the colonel said. It was by far the craziest plan he had ever heard, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “If there is nothing else?”

  No one said anything, so he nodded. “Right then. Dismissed.”

  One by one, they ducked out of the tent, a bit in shock that the colonel had accepted their plan. Then again, it was not like anyone had a better one.

  “If all is successful,” Jacob said, looking at the others around him. “It means we will be headed across the river in 5 days or less. Are your troops ready?”

  “They could stand a few more drills,” Aaron put in, speaking for his pirates. “But most of them remember standard formations.”

  “You have the field for your use,” Jacob said. “Please, take advantage as you see fit. Anyone else?”

  “Just target practice,” Major Holde said. “If nothing else. Perhaps we'll take to the edge of the wall, if that is alright.”

  “Of course,” Jacob said. “Lord Bamber?”

  “Uh...” Harold looked incredibly uncomfortable with his title in that moment. “My men are alright for now. I'll drill them as I see fit.”

  “Of course,” Jacob said.

  “Should I go...to the theatre?” Enola asked Aaron, unsure of the arrangements Lola was making. It did not matter; it would still be a British wedding. Now that it was confirmed, it felt odd to be standing around Major Holde. She had so much to say to him, so much to ask him if they were going to be as husband and wife.

  “Lola will probably stop by this afternoon,” Aaron replied. “I would not worry, as she is very organized. She has to be.”

  “Of course,” Enola said. “I did not doubt it.”

  Aaron shook his head. “My apologies,” he replied. “It has been a long night. Your wedding will be beautiful, do not worr
y.”

  “Well, if that is all,” Jacob turned to Enola. “I have some letters for you.”

  “Can you put them in my tent?” Enola asked. Jacob raised an eyebrow.

  “Am I your servant?” he asked halfheartedly, but went to do it anyways. The others went their separate ways, leaving Enola and Holde standing together.

  “I just realized,” she turned to him. “That I do not know your first name.”

  “Patrick,” he said. “Although I have been in the military for so long, it is easy to forget it. No one calls me by it.”

  “I....do not have to?” she said. “I just thought it might be a bit odd, that is all.”

  “Of course you should know,” he said, as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. “And you? Your name is so beautiful, but I understand there is meaning behind it.”

  “It means solitary,” she said, and he chuckled.

  “Well, that makes sense,” he said. “Although I would have guessed it meant strength, or perhaps independence.”

  “Not quite,” she replied. “But perhaps my parents sealed my fate when they chose it.”

  “You are lucky,” he said. “I only knew my mother briefly.”

  “Oh?” she asked. “And your father?”

  “I never knew him,” Holde admitted. “My mother was...it is not polite to say to a lady, but my mother was a lady of the night. And I never knew my father.”

  That was enough to make most ladies blush, but Enola was not most ladies. “I am sure she loved you no less for it,” Enola said. “Perhaps she loved you twice as much because she knew she had to be both parents.”

  “That is a kind way of looking at it,” Holde said. “I had never thought of it that way. She was a wonderful woman, but I made my own way in the world quite young, and we drifted apart.”

  “To be a Major from the ranks is impressive,” she said and he shrugged.

  “That is what a life like mine will do to you,” he replied.

  “Of course, I was admiring it,” she answered. “This concept of class is still a bit odd to me. It is not like that. My father is the chief, but.... everyone has a role to play in society and without everyone, society would collapse No person is less than any other for their role. When you grow old, you become an elder and you become respected for your wisdom, your experience and knowledge. But everyone also has an equal chance to achieve that kind of status and recognition.”

  “And it...works?” he asked, curious.

  “Yes,” Enola replied. “I knew the British had a class system, and it confused me, even as a child. When Jacob and I first met, I understood he came from money, and I understood there were those who thought themselves above and below him. But I asked him why half a hundred times until he told me that was just the way it was, and I should accept it and move on.”

  “...You still ask him, do you not?” Holde asked and she smiled.

  “Of course I do.”

  “I expected nothing less,” he said and they fell into a comfortable silence again. “I wanted to thank you for doing this, for the British effort.”

  “If we have any hope of sharing this land, this is where we must start,” she said. “Perhaps, when the war is over, it will start a trend.”

  “Perhaps,” he replied. “I should get to my men.”

  “Of course,” she said. They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer before breaking off.

  Holde headed in the opposite direction and she watched him go. His broad shoulders reflected the sunlight in his dark rifleman's uniform, and she briefly wondered what he would look like without the jacket on.

  She colored bright red at the thought, and shook it out of her head.

  Turning on her heel, she made her way to Jacob's tent, bursting in without announcing herself.

  “I thought I was bringing these to you?” Jacob asked in confusion, papers in his hand.

  “I'll take them now,” she said, and he looked her up and down.

  “Enola, are you alright? You are flushed.”

  “I am fine,” she said. “It is starting to be a hot day, is all.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You of all people should not be bothered by the weather.”

  “Aye, can I just get to work?” she asked. “Who knows how much time this actress will take up with wedding planning this afternoon?”

  “Of course,” Jacob said, deciding not to question her any more. “There's three in French and one in Spanish. You'll try?”

  “I'll try,” she replied. “They are so similar and my Spanish grows stronger every day.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “And I am sure the British effort thanks you as well.”

  “Everyone has to stop saying that to me,” she said, slightly harsher than she meant it. Jacob paused.

  “Are you sure you are alright?”

  “I am fine,” she said. “This is it?”

  “That is all,” he said, and she ducked out of the tent again, papers thick in her hand.

  She was glad of the task, hoping to lose herself for a few hours in the paperwork. Working with language often completely took over her brain, and she knew she would be able to put away her thoughts of Major Holde for the time being.

  Crossing the lawn, she watched the camp in action. The pirates were marching in terrible formation on one end of the field. The riflemen were already picking up their guns, laughing as Holde pointed to the edge of the wall. Harold and Annabelle were standing together, their child between them, talking in hushed whispers. They could both be shot at and likely not notice, Enola thought.

  Colonel Evenclear stood outside his tent, surveying the camp. His hands were on his hip, and his hat shielded his eyes, but he caught her glance and dipped his head.

  She dipped her head back before moving on, thoughts whirling. She had expected war to bring her many things; but she had not expected war to bring her to the altar of the Church of England. She hoped that her gods would forgive her for the words she was going to speak; and the idols she had to pretend to pray to. Mostly, she hoped they forgave her for the covenant she was about to make to save lives. Everything was worth it to save lives, or so she hoped.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  PLANS AND ACTION

  PLANS AND ACTION

  Knock knock,” Lola appeared at Aaron's tent, the pirates welcoming her with familiar smiles and waving her in with mock bows. “What are you doing?”

  “Oh, I am just regretting every breath I take,” Aaron tried to smile as he closed the book in which he was writing. “What have you brought, half the costume department?”

  “I thought I would show Enola some accessories and floral samples,” she said, indicating the trunk that Matheson had heaved onto his tent floor. “What is the matter?”

  “Nothing to worry about,” Aaron said, and she gave him a glare. “Now is not the time, Lola.”

  “Am I not your best friend?” she asked, and he shrugged.

  “Of course you are. And that seems to be the one thing that hasn't changed since I...you know.”

  “You are not getting along with Harold,” she said, and he rubbed a hand over his face.

  “I thought I would. I was delighted to see him again; I thought everything would go back to normal. But the moment he walked into the room, I found anger I did not know I had.”

  “Well, if it is any consolation, I feel the same way,” Lola said. “Wesley and Annabelle came to the theatre yesterday morning, and for one brief moment, I thought everything was going to fine. Then we spoke and I realized that it was not. This is difficult.”

  “Yes,” Aaron said. “But at least he is by your side.”

  “It seems none of us are lucky in love,” she said. “Except Harold and Annabelle, they seem happy.”

  “They are,” Aaron said. “The fabulous Lord and Lady Bamber. Which almost makes it worse. But if one of us can be happy, I am glad it is Annabelle. She is my twin, her happiness is mine, albeit briefly.”

  “And now we have to plan
a fake-real wedding,” Lola said. “For an awkward match.”

  “Why is it awkward?” Aaron asked.

  “Well, they barely know each other,” Lola said and Aaron shrugged.

  “Marriages have been made on less,” he replied. “And to be honest with you, they seem better off than most. They have at least spoken two kind words to each other.”

  “Wonderful,” Lola replied as she opened the trunk. “Is this a military operation? Do you want approval on it from the colonel?”

  Aaron snorted. “It technically is, now that the Colonel has approved it as part of the plan. However, I do not think he is going to be approving flower colors.”

  “Was he suspicious?” Lola asked. “About pirates offering to help?”

  “Beggars cannot be choosers,” he said. “Which is what I suspect your theatre contract is, by the way.”

  “What?” She brushed the hair from her face.

  “Do not hide from me. You were running.”

  She sighed. “I just...everything in that country reminded me of him. It is a fairy tale gone into the darkness.”

  “No chance of reconciliation?”

  “Not that I can think of,” she said. “It does not matter, Aaron. I have always been better off alone.”

  “No one is better off alone,” Aaron said, but she was not having it.

  “Do you want me to fetch Enola, then?”

  “Well, you might as well, seeing as you went to my tent instead of hers,” Aaron said, heaving himself off his desk chair. “It is fine; I should take the men out for a run.”

  “I remember when you could not do that,” she said to him, and he smiled.

  “Sea life has always been good for me. Do not worry so much, Lola, it'll all be alright.”

  “Take your own advice,” she called after him as she crouched back into the trunk. She pulled out a small black pouch, emptying it into her hand.