She blew out a breath. “But where’s the key?”
Her husband peered into the dusty brown folder and bit his bottom lip as he reached in. “Right here.” He held up an old-fashioned brass key. “When do you want to go?”
Jessabelle glanced at the clock. “Probably not today. Too much to do. Maybe tomorrow? The service won’t be until Friday afternoon.”
“I wish I could go for you. Wondering what’s in there has to be hard.”
She shook her head. “I can’t think about it now.” A discreet knock at the door caught her attention. Her father’s solicitor entered when she called. The three of them exchanged pleasantries before the other man got down to business.
“Your Royal Highness, I doubt there will be many surprises in your father’s will. Except for a bit of money left to different charities, you inherit everything, but before we can officially read the will, you need to find the contents of the safety deposit box. I know your father planned to tell you about it?”
Jessabelle squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes. He did. I was hoping we could read the will and get it over with today.”
“Only if you obtain the contents of the box, ma’am.”
She pushed back from her father’s desk. “Prince Malachi, will you be so kind as to take me to the bank?”
A bit of annoyance skittered across his face at her use of his title, but there were others present. It was proper. He nodded. “Of course.”
It took half an hour to get to the main downtown branch of the bank, but they were waiting when the doors opened at nine. The president of the bank saw to the issue himself, showing them to the vault containing row after row of locked boxes. He used one key to open one lock. Jessabelle waited for him to leave to use her key to open the other.
Inside, only a plain manila envelope greeted her. She picked it up. Maybe half an inch thick, it contained answers to the questions she had. She didn’t know just yet what those questions were, but she had the answers. Jessabelle shoved it into her bag. “No time to look at it now. But at least I have it and can get on with reading the will later today.”
The rest of the day was filled with the decisions necessary to finish planning the memorial service and the reading of the will. Jessabelle wasn’t surprised by anything in it, except some of the amounts her father left to the various charities - more than she expected for some, less for others. The money for Jessabelle went into a trust for her grandchildren, unless she was widowed by or divorced from Prince Malachi.
When the lawyer read that part, Jessabelle glanced at the arm of her chair where the prince’s hand held hers. He squeezed it to let her know just what he thought about that last part.
She spent the night in her old room. Prince Malachi returned to the palace. The only bed in the house big enough for both of them belonged to her parents. No way that was happening. There never had been a guest room. So the prince had gently kissed her forehead and told her he would be back in the morning to help with anything she needed.
Jessabelle sat on her bed and stared at the envelope she’d pulled from the safety deposit box. Did she have the mental and emotional fortitude to open it and deal with whatever was inside? She’d been awake for over thirty-six hours. Her muscles cried out for rest. Her mind continued to race a mile a minute, but her body told her there was no real choice.
With a deep sigh, she put the envelope on her nightstand and slid under the covers. Even though Malachi never touched her in the night, she realized she missed having him next to her. Her mind eventually settled down enough that she dozed off and slept fitfully until morning.
* * *
Malachi spent his night tossing and turning and wishing Jessabelle had come back to the palace with him, though he understood her need to stay at the house. Security had, of course, stayed behind as well. Her father’s death had made headlines already and would continue to do so for the next several days. Hopefully by the end of the week, it would be put behind them.
He gave up trying to sleep about six and headed to the gym for a work out. His feet pounded the belt for several miles before slowing down to a walk, wrapping his small towel around his neck. He was minutes from stopping when the door to the gym opened, and his great-grandmother walked in.
With a grin splitting his face, he pressed the stop button and hopped off. “Nana Yvette! I’m so glad to see you!”
Nana Yvette held out her hands. He took them, kissing both of her cheeks.
“Where is your lovely wife?”
“She stayed at her father’s home last night.” Malachi tucked her hand into his elbow and helped her to the couch facing the window. She’d had it placed there for this very reason.
“Please give her my most sincere condolences when you see her.” Nana Yvette sat down and he sat next to her. “I don’t believe I’ll attend the services. I didn’t know the man and there will be enough hoopla surrounding the event with your father there and because of her newly royal status.” A smirk crossed his great-grandmother’s face at the mention of his marriage.
“What’s so funny?”
She waved a wrinkled hand. “Nothing, dear. I do want to get to know your wife better soon, though.”
“I know she wants to get to know you as well, Nana.”
“This was not unexpected, was it?”
“No. In fact, I believe he lived for our wedding.” Malachi ran a tired hand over his face. “He wanted to see my father make good on his promise to have one of his sons marry Jessabelle so she would be taken care of once he passed on. That’s been done. I’ve been told he deteriorated quickly, beginning the day after the wedding, holding out long enough to see his daughter again. She knew this was coming. In fact, they already read the will yesterday. Nothing surprising, except for an envelope she’s supposed to open when she’s ready for answers about her heritage.”
“Her heritage?” There was something odd in his great-grandmother’s voice, but Malachi couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
“Yes. When I left last night, she hadn’t opened it yet. I hope she’ll tell me what she found as soon as she does.”
She leaned over and patted his strong hand with her delicate one. “You have known each other such a short time to go through such a trying incident already.”
“We will make it through just fine. It’s a time of growth for both of us. ‘These are the times that try men’s souls’, right? And we’ll come through the refiner’s fire even stronger.”
“I believe you will.” She squeezed his hand with a strength that belied her years. “There will be difficult times ahead, things you have no idea about right now. Things you can’t begin to imagine. But you are a strong man, Malachi. You are the man she needs as she learns whatever she’s going to learn when she opens that envelope.” She reached out to rest her hand on his cheek. “Don’t ever give her reason to doubt you, Kai. Jessabelle will need a port in her storm. A strong tower where she can be safe. The Lord is that for her, of course, but you can be His hands and feet. Or, more likely, His arms and shoulders.”
“Of course. She will never have to worry about me being unfaithful to her like my father was for so many years.” Something he couldn’t define crossed her face, replaced by a sadness he hated. “I would never do that to her, no matter how unconventional our marriage arrangement started.”
“I know you would not do so intentionally, dear boy. Your father has paid dearly for those days when he stepped out on your mother. Someday, perhaps, he’ll explain it all to you. But if he doesn’t, know this. There are many things about that time in his life he regrets and not just the breaking of the traditional wedding vows.”
Malachi kept his thoughts to himself. His father’s words the morning after the wedding echoed in his mind. Could his grandmother be right? Did his father regret all the times he cheated on his wife? If so, why would he encourage Malachi to do so? Nana Yvette changed the subject, and they talked for a few more minutes before he headed back to his apartment to shower and get read
y to meet Jessabelle.
The next two days were long ones. Malachi stayed close to his wife’s side, offering support when needed and a, hopefully comforting, presence at all times.
Malachi kept an eye on the news coverage. For the most part, it was respectful. Pictures of the two of them, taken from a distance, as they came out of the church after the service. His arm circled around her waist. Her black pantsuit drew a bit of criticism from those who thought she should have worn a dress or suit with a skirt, but most of the commentary stayed respectful. The photo also showed one of the few times the king and queen came second to just about anyone. As Malachi walked down the steps with his wife, his parents came after them.
As the sun set, he found himself in the bedroom he now shared with Jessabelle. Already in a pair of comfortable looking pajamas, his wife sat on their bed, the manila envelope in front of her.
“Have you looked yet?” he asked, crossing the room to sit at her side.
“No.”
He ran a hand up and down her back. “Scared?”
“Petrified.”
“Do you want me to look at it for you?” His great-grandmother’s words came back to him. He was going to need to be strong for her.
She looked up at him, a sheen of tears in her eyes. “You would do that for me?”
“Of course. Just say the word.”
With one hand, Jessabelle gave him the envelope.
“When do you want me to look at it?”
“Whenever you want.” She stood. “I’m going to get a glass of milk.”
Malachi watched her leave. As soon as she was out of sight, he opened the copper brad on the back. A quick shake was all it took for the packet to fall out of the too-big envelope. He picked up the sheaf of papers held together by a black binder clip.
It only took a few seconds for him to scan the cover letter on the top. He felt his eyes grow wider with each sentence. As it registered, he sucked in a breath.
If he’d thought the new information wouldn’t change her life nearly as much as marrying him had, he’d thought wrong.
This information would rock her very foundation. And he’d be the only one to help her pick up the pieces.
Chapter 11
Jessabelle sat in a chair in the living area next to the room she now shared with her husband. Had he already looked at the papers? Was it easy to figure out what the big secret was? Or would he have to dig through the paperwork to find out the information that would shake her world?
Because anything that would affect her heritage would probably throw her into turmoil.
She took her glass back to the kitchen and rinsed it out, leaving it in the sink. When she walked into the bedroom, Prince Malachi had several papers spread out around him and looked up when he noticed her. “Well?”
His serious look scared her. “You’re going to want to sit down for this.”
With her bottom lip stuck between her teeth, she moved to the chair near the side of the bed. “It’s bad?” she whispered.
“Bad? Maybe. I don’t know. Good? Probably not. Life changing? Most likely.”
Her stomach felt like a giant knot. “What is it?”
He tossed the papers in his hand onto the bed. “You’re adopted.”
Fragments of thoughts, unable to be fully formed, swirled through her mind. Whatever she’d thought this might be, that had never been on the list of possibilities. “What?”
“You were adopted immediately after you were born.” He looked through the papers. “I haven’t found anything about who your birth parents were yet, but that information could be here. It looks like it was a closed adoption, though.”
Her eyes closed for a moment then she blinked. Rapidly. “Adopted? My mother...my father...they weren’t my parents?”
“Not biologically.” He scooted off the bed and came to kneel in front of her. “But they were your parents in all the ways that mattered. They took care of you when you skinned your knee and provided you with food and a roof over your head. One of the last things your father did was make sure you would be taken care of for the rest of your life through this marriage contract.”
Her father. All the times something didn’t quite seem to make sense suddenly became clear. Yes, he’d want her taken care of, but he’d always been distant. Had it been because she wasn’t his own flesh and blood? Would he have bonded differently with her if she’d been his biological child?
“There’s a letter from your mother in there, as well as one from your father. I haven’t read them, but maybe they’ll explain it more fully. Maybe they have an idea who your birth parents are, even if it’s not in the paperwork.”
“Maybe.” Did she want to know? Or would she rather remain oblivious to the identity of her birth parents?
“Do you want me to read everything more carefully for you?”
Jessabelle shook her head. “No. Thank you for the offer, and I may take you up on it later, but I think I’ll read through it in the morning.”
He leaned up and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Anything you need, I’m here for you, Mia Belle.”
“Thank you.” Her world had been rocked, but she hadn’t yet begun to process it. It would take time. Reading through the paperwork. Reading the letters from her parents. Maybe then she’d be able to wrap her mind around the idea that her parents weren’t her parents. Sure. Her husband was right. They’d taken care of her, but her continual feeling of not quite belonging now made much more sense.
She continued to sit there as he stacked the pages, fastened the binder clip, and slid it all back into the envelope. He laid it on the table on his side of the bed before disappearing into the closet. Jessabelle stared at the envelope, picked it up, and carried it to the other side of the bedroom and tucked it in the drawer of the desk Malachi told her would be hers.
The next few days passed. Jessabelle put the knowledge about her birth as far from her mind as she could. She spent the days sorting through things at her father’s home and her nights trying not to toss and turn, disturbing her husband’s sleep.
She’d dressed in blue jeans and an old T-shirt for another day of work, this one in the attic, when Malachi walked out of their shared closet. His frown told her of his displeasure.
“I’m sorry, Jessabelle. Didn’t I tell you about the luncheon?”
“Luncheon?” She searched her mind but came up blank. “I don’t think so.”
“There’s a luncheon today. A fundraiser. They were told we would both be there, and I confirmed it Friday. They’ve advertised it as your first official fundraising function.” He frowned again. “I really didn’t tell you?”
She shook her head. “You may have, but I don’t recall.”
His face softened. “I’m sorry, love. I know you have a plan for today at your father’s house, but I do need you there. Can you please attend?”
Jessabelle sighed and nodded. “I can.”
He kissed her cheek. “My sister’s assistant and stylist will be working with you until you hire your own. They’ll make sure you’re wearing the right thing and that you get there on time. I have a meeting this morning with Lizbeth Bence about the Adoption Option fundraiser in a few weeks. She and I will likely travel together from the meeting to the luncheon.”
Something stirred, deep inside. Jealousy? Surely not. She had no real attachment to Malachi, but she didn’t want him spending time, even innocuous fundraising time, with another woman. She simply said, “Good-bye” as he left.
Four hours later, she twisted her napkin in her hands under the table. The chairs to her left were both empty. No one had told her where they were, but it was nearly time for the speaker’s portion of the luncheon.
A gentleman came toward her and stopped just behind her, to the right. “Your Royal Highness, your husband has been unavoidably detained. He needs you to give his speech. Can you do that for us?”
Did she have a choice? Turmoil rumbled through her stomach, threatening to make her lose the little
bit of lunch she’d managed to swallow with all of those eyes on her. How would she ever make it through a speech? But this was part of her job as a princess, right? She gave the tiniest of nods, and the man walked to the podium. He set a green three-ring binder on the top and nodded at her.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your attendance today. We are grateful not only for your time, but for your generous support. As I’m sure many of you have noticed, our chairpersons are not here. Prince Malachi and Miss Lizbeth Bence have been unavoidably detained and send their regrets. Just last month, Prince Malachi married, and Princess Jessabelle has agreed to give his address instead. Please join me in giving her a warm welcome.”
The applause seemed muted as she pushed back from the table. Dear God, help me. The prayer had been winging its way from her heart and mind toward heaven since she sat in the car on the way to the venue. The intensity had increased tenfold in the last few minutes.
She took her place behind the podium and opened the folder before gripping the sides for dear life. The salutations swam in front of her, but she had to try. “Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, and those who are joining us via the Internet, unable to be in attendance today.” Her knees wobbled like Jello. “My husband wishes he could be here today but is unable to attend at the last minute. I will be giving his remarks instead.”
If only she could manage to keep the bile in her stomach where it belonged.
* * *
Malachi paced the side of the road, checking his phone again. “What happened?”
Lizbeth looked up from her seat on a nearby stump. “We’re out of petrol, Mal. Surely you understand that? I know you’ve lived a sheltered life, but there’s this sort of amber colored liquid you need to put inside the car. That way, when you turn the key, the engine sparks to life, and you drive. When there’s no more of the liquid, the car doesn’t work.”
He glared at her. “I know what it is. I want to know how you managed to run out and where the security detail is. There’s no reception here.” His phone showed “no service” flashing repeatedly where there should be service bars.
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