You're So Vain: A Royal Haters to Lovers Romance (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers Book 4)

by Whitney Dineen

  “Curtis is acting out again.” She slides a piece of paper across the table to me. “This is what he wrote for your fairy tale contest.”

  I pick up the piece of paper and read:

  Prince Alistair decided to help Princess Lutéce by cutting off her giant feet with an axe. After she recovered, Princess Lutéce thanked him kindly, and they got married and adopted all the orphans at Shepherd’s Home. The orphans never let the princess want for anything, so she never had to worry about not having any feet.

  Shifting uncomfortably in my chair, I say, “I see. While the whole cutting off her feet thing is rather gruesome, it’s no less horrible than many of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. I think Curtis was just trying to come up with a logical solution for having big toes as big as oak trees.” I wrap it up with, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Sister.”

  “That’s not the part I’m worried about, you dolt.” You see what I mean? No deference to my title, whatsoever.

  “What part are you worried about?”

  “The part where Curtis thinks you and Lutéce will get married and adopt all of them. Alistair, it’s hard enough managing the children’s expectations without crushing them. Most of them dream about being part of a family again, and most of them are resigned to the fact that it isn’t in their future. Curtis is ten, and he still yearns for a father figure.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re suggesting here, Sister. Are you saying you want me to adopt all of the children?”

  She rolls her eyes at me. Not at all subtly. “I think you need to stop visiting so frequently. When the children see you, it gives them false hope. I don’t think that’s fair.”

  “But I’m not even married. Why would they think I was looking into adopting some of them?” Like I told Lu, I’ve certainly thought about it, but I can’t imagine doing it anytime soon.

  “Curtis told the other kids that the whole plan behind the writing contest was for you to pick the child you were going to take out of here. That is currently all they can seem to talk about.”

  That would make a good fairy tale right there. “Where in the world did he get such an idea?” Sweat starts to bead on my forehead.

  “From you, Alistair,” she says sharply. “You’re the one who told the children they could pick any prize they wanted. What do you think is the biggest thing they all want?”

  “I didn’t mean that.” I feel horrible for giving them false hope. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Like I said, I want you to stop visiting. And then when you start again, perhaps you should only come every few weeks or so.”

  “That would punish both me and them,” I tell her firmly.

  “I’m not worried about you, Alistair. You are going to be just fine. These children, on the other hand, must be prepared for the reality of their lives. Dreaming of becoming your child is not at all realistic.” She pushes her chair back from her desk and stands up.

  “Can I at least say hello to them now?” I’m so stunned by her decree I feel like I’ve taken a sharp blow. I’m positively dizzy.

  “I don’t think that would be wise. In fact, I think Miss Choate should pick the winner of the contest. I’ll tell the children that you’re very busy being a prince and that you don’t have time to stop by in the foreseeable future.”

  I stand up so abruptly, I nearly topple the chair. “They’ll hate me if you say that!”

  “It will be less painful for them in the long run,” she decides.

  “Don’t I have any say in the matter?”

  “What do you think, Alistair? In all the years that you’ve known me, have I ever given in to you?”

  She hasn’t. “Please let me know if you need anything,” I tell her before turning to leave her office.

  “Alistair,” she calls after me. “It’s for the best.”

  How taking away the one thing that brings me so much joy is for the best, I’ll never know. While I peripherally understand her reasoning, I can’t help but feel like I’m the one being punished here.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Sheila

  “I feel like a caged animal,” Sheila shouts across the room while pacing back and forth across her bedroom floor. She has Tooty on speaker phone.

  “Then go out. If Lu is thinking about adopting a child from Malquar, she won’t run just because you’re there.”

  “You don’t seriously believe that, do you?” Sheila snorts.

  “I don’t know what to think. I do know that I want to come back for a visit though. I’d like to see that orphanage. If Lu is spending a lot of time there, maybe it would be a good place to start my camp for underprivileged kids. Once I have a better idea of what I’m doing, I could expand it to the States.”

  “You should come back. That way you can be my eyes and ears and Lu won’t suspect a thing.”

  “I’ll do my best, but in the meantime you’ve gotta take a giant chill pill, sis. Read a book, learn to knit, do something other than worry about Lu.”

  “Easier said than done. Alistair’s ex is back on the scene, and I’m not convinced she isn’t going to get him back.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “There were some pretty salacious pictures in the newspapers this morning.”

  “You know enough not to believe what you see in the rags.”

  “I do, but I’d feel a lot better if I knew that Alistair and Lu had already made a connection.”

  “You’ve got to give them time. You want the man Lu winds up with to be a keeper. That man does not have to be Alistair and you know it.”

  “I just have this feeling is all…” Sheila says.

  Lutéce

  Beatrice and I are nearly run over as Alistair storms out of the abbey. He’s moving so fast I barely sidestep him in time. “Alistair, are you okay?” I ask agitatedly.

  He stops walking. “No.” Then he looks down at Beatrice and asks, “Beatrice, can you tell me what you’re going to ask for if you win the fairy tale competition?”

  The little girl shakes her head solemnly. “I just wished for it at the fountain, and if I tell you, it won’t come true.”

  “Is it something big?” He sounds concerned like she’s going to ask for an automatic rifle or the Eiffel Tower.

  “Very big,” she tells him.

  “What’s going on?” I insert myself back into the conversation.

  Alistair’s gaze looks haunted. “Might you be free sometime this afternoon?” he asks.

  “For what?”

  “To spend some time with me,” he says, like it’s an obvious answer.

  I’m still mad at him for not being home this morning when he said he would. I’m more concerned about who he was spending the night with than missing his toaster waffles though. A wave of nausea rushes through me at the mere thought. “I suppose I could be. If you’ll be home.”

  He arches an eyebrow in question before answering, “You have my word. How does three o’clock sound?”

  “That sounds fine,” I tell him while taking Beatrice’s hand and pulling the little girl to my side. I lead the way into the abbey without looking back.

  The rest of the morning and early afternoon are spent giving piano lessons. The children are eager students, and I’m delighted to be able to help them cultivate a new skill. As I’m walking out the door, Alistair’s young friend Curtis stops me. He says, “Please tell the prince that I’m pretty sure I’m going to win the writing competition.”

  “You’ve come up with a good ending, have you?”

  “You might not like it, but as far as fairy tales go, it’s pretty solid. Also, it’s unexpected, which is something I think fairy tales could use more of.”

  “I can’t argue with you there,” I tell him. “If I were writing one, there would be fewer frog kissing incidents, and more forest creatures knowing how to clean a house.”

  Curtis lifts his hand up in the hair and slaps mine sharply. “You’ve got that right. We could sure use a few maid squirrels aroun
d here.”

  “And kangaroo butlers,” I add with a giggle.

  “And camel coachmen,” he laughs.

  “Are you sure you’re done with your story?” I ask. “Because you’ve just added some pretty enticing elements. I’d be hard pressed not to vote for you if you could add some trained birds that know how to cook …” I tease.

  Nodding his head, he says, “I think there might be room for improvement. I’ll go back to work on it now.”

  As I walk home, I imagine what fun it would be to have regular competitions so that more children have a chance to win something. I’ll have to bring that up with Alistair and Sister Hennepin and see what they think.

  I’ve tried very hard not to obsess about Alistair today. But the more I try to steer my thoughts in another direction, the more he’s front and center in my mind.

  Who was he with? Why was he with her instead of me?

  When I get to his house, I knock on the front door. He doesn’t answer right away, and I immediately double check his driveway to make sure his car is there. It is.

  “Lu.” He finally opens the door looking like he just went twelve rounds with a sack of flour. And lost.

  “Are you baking bread or something?” I ask.

  “I’m actually making homemade Play Doh.”

  “Why?” I couldn’t be more surprised if he said he was building a plutonium bomb.

  He shrugs. “I was fooling around on the internet, and I read an article about forty innovative uses for flour. I thought I’d try some of them out. If they work, I thought Sister Hennepin might be able to implement them at the orphanage.”

  “What else can you do with it?” I ask.

  He leads the way to his kitchen which looks like a flour bomb went off in it. “You can make a kind of kinetic sand, glue, an acne mask …”

  I start laughing. “Alistair, you can’t be serious. You must have something else on your agenda today.”

  He shakes his head, looking like a little boy whose puppy just got hit by a car. “Sister Hennepin has asked me not to come back to the abbey for quite some time.” At my shocked expression, he explains, “It seems that Curtis thinks I’m going to adopt the winner of the contest. He’s been telling the other children that and now they all have it in their heads that if they win, I will become their father.”

  “Oh, dear. Curtis wanted me to tell you that he thinks he’s going to win.”

  “I read his story. It was quite brief, but the long and short of it was that I get married and adopt all of the children from the home,” he tells me.

  Oh, those poor kids. Poor Alistair. “What are you going to do?”

  “It seems that I have two options. I can either stay away as I’ve been instructed to do, or I can marry and adopt forty-two children.” I don’t know whether he’s joking or not, but he asks, “What do you think? Should we get married?”

  Nervous laughter erupts out of me, even as a pleasant pulsing starts to rush through my extremities. “There has to be another solution,” I say.

  “I don’t know what it is.”

  Looking at the newspaper on his kitchen table, I suggest, “Maybe there’s someone else you could marry.” I’m staring right at a photograph of Alistair kissing another woman last night. I try to tell myself that I shouldn’t be bothered as we haven’t so much as kissed yet or made any declarations to each other. But I am bothered. Very much.

  “Do you remember the conversation you and I had yesterday?” he asks angrily.

  “Which one?”

  “The one about not believing everything you see?”

  “I remember,” I tell him without averting my gaze. Looks like we’ve just entered another staring contest.

  “And yet, here you are believing. Why is that?” Before I can answer, he takes a step closer to me. I hold my ground. His next step has us practically touching, and my body responds like I’ve just fallen onto a live wire.

  Alistair leans down so our faces are only a breath apart. Then his lips actually do touch mine. Firmly and possessively, he presses his mouth against mine, and it’s all I can do not to throw myself into his arms and accept his joke of a marriage proposal.

  He slides his hands around my waist, and he pulls me ever closer. With a low groan, I manage to say, “Alistair …”

  I’m about to surrender to him totally when he pulls back. “You didn’t ask for that, did you?”

  What is he talking about?

  “If a photographer were present and printed a picture of us just now, everyone who saw it would think we were a couple, wouldn’t they?”

  I nod my head slowly.

  “But as you’ve made it perfectly clear that we are not a couple, and you don’t feel that way about me …”

  He’s wrong. I most definitely do feel that way, and I’m pretty sure he does as well. No one kisses like that without genuine interest. If they do, they should be locked up to protect the innocent hearts they’re bound to break with such callous disregard.

  “So, you’re saying you were an unwilling participant in those pictures,” I manage to say, still breathless from his kiss. From his touch.

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “And what just happened here?”

  “You were the unwilling participant,” he says.

  I was not. And I’m about to say so, but I’m more than a little peeved at him for thinking it’s okay to toy with my emotions just to make a point.

  “But you loved her once.” I decide to push the envelope to find out as much as I can.

  “I used to love mustard on my scrambled eggs as well. But I assure you, I’ve grown out of that.”

  “The woman in the picture doesn’t mean anything to you?”

  “All she means to me now is a load of trouble.” He steps toward me again, but this time I step back. “I find that I’m much more interested in someone else.”

  “Lucky girl,” I mumble.

  “Unfortunately, she doesn’t want anything to do with me. She thinks of me like a brother.” He advances another step, causing me to retreat again. My back is literally up against the wall.

  “Maybe she’s changed her mind.” Please let him be talking about me. Please oh please oh please.

  “She’s given me a hard enough time in the past, that if she has, I’m leaving it up to her to tell me.”

  This is my big chance to do just that, but somehow, I can’t seem to force a sound past my lips.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Queen Charlotte

  “I would love it if Tooty came back,” the queen tells Sheila while shifting the basket of flowers she’s collecting to the other arm.

  “I’m sure she’d be happy to sing for her supper.”

  “Nonsense. As far as we’re concerned, you’re all family. Also, I love this idea of hers about starting a camp. I might even know of the perfect location for it.”

  “Where is that?” Sheila asks.

  “We have several buildings that are underutilized. Some of them date back generations when the royal family moved around like nomads. These days, we like to stay home as much as we can.”

  “If I lived in a palace like this, I think I’d be a homebody, too.”

  “I don’t care how much help you have, traveling with six children was always a challenge. I’m still recovering,” Charlotte jokes.

  “It’s nice that you have most of your children around you. If Lu winds up here, either to secure citizenship to adopt, or if something happens between her and Alistair, I’m going to have to buy here. I can’t have my grandkids growing up without me.”

  “Just say the word, and we’ll find you a place. Of course, you know you’re always welcome to stay with us.”

  “What do you think the chances are that something will happen between Lu and Alistair?” Sheila asks.

  “I think we’ll have a better idea after seeing them together at my dinner party.”

  “Those pictures in the paper have me worried,” Sheila confesses.r />
  “Ellery is proficient at getting what she wants, but I’m certain that won’t work with either of my sons. Not again.”

  “Here’s hoping …”

  Alistair

  “I really think I want to adopt Beatrice,” Lutéce blurts out.

  Well, that’s awkward. I tell her that if she wants me to kiss her again, she’s going to have to tell me, and she changes the subject. Maybe I misread her. On the other hand, her body language during that kiss seemed pretty telling.

  Apparently not.

  “Have you talked to Sister Hennepin yet?” I ask, trying to keep my tone bland. Also, I’m trying not to drag her into my arms again.

  “Not yet. I’m worried I won’t be able to take Beatrice out of the country. I thought maybe you could talk to your mother and ask her what the rules are.”

  I pick up my phone and call the palace. “Mum, it’s Alistair. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “I do. What do you need?”

  “I’d rather talk in person, if you don’t mind.”

  My mother says, “I’m on my way out, so if you’re home, I can stop by for a few minutes before my appointment.”

  “I’ll see you then,” I tell her. I rarely invite my mother over, so I know she’s probably itching to look around and make sure I’m not living like a wild animal. After hanging up, I tell Lu, “She’ll be here shortly.”

  “I didn’t necessarily mean now,” I tell him.

  “Why wait?”

  “I guess.” She does not seem at all comfortable being here with me after what just happened. Is she thinking of our kiss like I am? Does she want to do it again?

  “Do you have any toaster waffles?” she asks.

  Hm, apparently, she’s thinking about toaster waffles. “You want toaster waffles in the middle of the afternoon?” She is certainly an odd duck at times.

  “I’d rather have Froot Loops,” she says, “But I don’t suppose you have those here in Malquar.”

  “Of course, we have Froot Loops. What kind of barbarians do you take us for?”

  She looks surprised, as she asks, “Do you have Froot Loops though?”