by Lauren Smith
Stopping, she spun and saw a tall blond-haired man lounging in the doorway of a closed shop. A thick striped scarf with a school shield was draped around his neck, the ends fluttering in the light breeze. His brown eyes were assessing but not threatening. Her heart jumped.
“Carter, what are you doing here?” she whispered, relieved to see him.
“Hello, Kat.” As he walked up to her, she noticed something in one of his hands. A rolled-up magazine. He held it out to her. “I think you should read this.” Carter started to turn away, but she grasped his arm.
“How is he?” she asked, desperate to hear about him.
Carter raked a hand through his hair and blew out an exhausted sigh.
“Not good. I’ve never seen him like this.” He paced away from her, like a restless beast torn with worry and anger. There was a weariness to his eyes that saddened Kat’s heart. “He’s cold. He’s…losing himself to his grief.” He spun back to face her, his eyes sweeping over her as though searching for answers. “What happened between you?”
“He didn’t tell you?” Surprise flickered through her. Tristan and Carter shared everything. How had he not told his friend what had happened?
“Tell me what?”
“We broke up because…because of his father.” She was hesitant to explain fully. If Tristan hadn’t shared the details of their breakup with Carter, he must have had a reason.
“What did Pembroke do?” He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning.
“Well…” She hesitated. What could she say? Should she tell him the real reason? Would it matter?
With quick strides Carter was inches from her, hands on her shoulders as he stared down at her.
“Tell me, please, Kat. I can’t help Tristan if I don’t understand what we’re fighting against.”
What we’re fighting against…His words, the sense of unity, showed just how close he and Tristan truly were. Brothers in so many ways that Tristan’s father couldn’t ever break them apart. Carter deserved to know the truth.
With a little nod, she sighed. “The earl used you as blackmail to keep us apart.”
“Me?” Carter’s eyes widened.
With a little nod, Kat explained. “His father said if we didn’t end things on Christmas Day that he would fire you and your dad from the estate and make it impossible for you to be employed anywhere else. Tristan couldn’t fight it. And I understood. We did what we had to in order to protect you and your father.”
A tic worked in Carter’s jaw as he digested this information. Then he looked at her intensely.
“So you still love him and would be with him if nothing else stood in the way?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t let him hurt you or your dad. He said he’d choose me, but he shouldn’t have to choose between his best friend and his girlfriend.”
A slow smile curved Carter’s lips. “Well, thank God for that. Why don’t you go back to your dorm and read the magazine. Keep your cell phone handy. Maybe I can conjure a miracle or two before midnight.” He touched her shoulder with a brotherly pat and then walked quickly away.
Kat watched him turn the corner before she headed for her dorm.
Miracles by midnight? She doubted that was possible.
With a little exhale, and a heavy heart, she returned to her room and sat on her bed. After she kicked off her boots and stripped out of her coat, she unrolled the glossy magazine Carter had handed her.
Monarch Magazine.
Her heart stuttered to a halt. Tristan was on the cover. He was seated at an antique walnut wood writing table. The photo was taken from his left and he’d put his elbows on the desk, his hands clasped together loosely as though briefly interrupted in a prayer. He faced the camera, his eyes sharp and penetrating, his full lips slightly parted, looking like he was about to say something important. The title of the article read, THE TRUTH BEHIND THE LOVE STORY SWEEPING LONDON.
Kat’s heart started beating hard and fast. She wanted to stare at the photo forever. He was gloriously handsome, but there was something in his eyes that stopped her heart. An aching loneliness.
I didn’t dream him. He’s real. And he used to be mine.
She shut her eyes for a long moment before she found the courage to flip through the pages until she found the article. There was a huge full-page spread of the Snow White and Prince Charming kiss. She and Tristan were lip-locked and the words SOME LOVES LAST FOREVER were scrawled in an elegant font beneath their bodies. With trembling fingers she stroked the glossy page, remembering the way it had felt to come alive from a prince’s kiss in a snowy glen, the sweet taste of an apple upon her lips.
She shifted her attention to the next page, where the interview began. Tristan described the way they met, how they’d kept their love a secret until his father had discovered them. Paparazzi pictures of them filled the next several pages: Tristan holding her protectively as he led her out of the registrar’s office after their parents’ wedding. The two of them singing at King’s College, illuminated by candlelight. The two of them ice-skating.
Kat read the entire article twice before she reread the bolded quotes. There was a picture of Tristan by a window, his eyes directed out on the gardens, holding the compass she’d given him in one hand. It caught the winter sunlight and glinted sharply, like a fallen star in his palm.
She was the one thing in my life that made sense. The one thing I loved more than anything. I didn’t deserve her, but somehow she loved me anyway.
Kat flipped the pages to a photo of Tristan by a fireplace, one hand on the mantel as he stared broodingly into the crackling fire’s glow.
There will never be anyone else in my heart. Katherine Roberts is my only dream.
The words ripped all the wounds inside her open again, and sobs tore from her throat. She couldn’t relive this pain. She couldn’t.
* * *
Tristan reclined in a chair by the fireplace in one of the drawing rooms at Pembroke. His father was waving the Monarch Magazine around as he shouted. Tristan wasn’t listening to a single word. His father looked furious enough to throw something, but he halted suddenly as the study door opened.
Carter’s father, John, stood in the doorway, scowling. Usually the estate’s steward was a cheery but polite and slightly reserved fellow. His blond hair was streaked with hints of silver, but his brown eyes were sharp and observant.
“What is it, John? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
John walked into the room, his lean form moving with purpose. “I’ve come to tender my resignation. I’ll be leaving within the hour and will send someone to collect my things tomorrow.” His gaze stayed on the earl, but Tristan had the strangest sense that Carter’s father was speaking to him. He slowly rose from the chair, his gaze darting between John and his father.
“What in the blazes do you mean, John?” Edward threw the magazine into a chair and crossed his arms, brows lowered.
Carter’s father didn’t back down. “It has come to my attention that you have been using me and my son to keep Tristan from dating Ms. Roberts. Well, you can trouble yourself no more. I do not hold with such low behavior. It has been an honor until today to work for such a noble family and a great house. But if you plan to run the estate through subterfuge and blackmail, then I’m done, Edward.”
John turned on his heel and left the room.
Sputtering in rage and panic, Edward rushed after him. “If you think I’ll let you resign, think again! I need you here, John. Come back—” The drawing room door closed, leaving Tristan alone.
Dazed, he stared at the door. Before he could process what had just happened, his cell phone rang.
“Tristan, why the bloody hell didn’t you tell me!” Carter was almost shouting.
“Tell you what?” he fired back. He was unused to Carter being so…angry.
“That Edward was using me and my father as a way to keep you and Kat apart? You shouldn’t have protected us, not at the cost of your own happiness. You bloody idiot
. I’ve told Father and he’s going to resign. He said he thinks your father is bluffing.”
Stunned, Tristan tried to process what Carter was telling him.
“But your dad’s just resigned—”
“Tristan, he won’t have to, not if he can blackmail your father right back into letting you see Kat. So get in your car and drive to Cambridge. Kat needs you. Forget Edward and come back here. He can’t keep you from her. There’s no one stopping you anymore.”
Tristan was on his feet and running for the door, pulling his keys from his pocket. He shouted for a footman to open the gates as he practically sprinted down the front steps.
The Aston Martin was still parked out front from his morning drive to the groundkeeper’s lodge, which was nestled in the woods at the other end of the estate. It was dark now since twilight had faded to the onward press of night, creating a lonely, quiet atmosphere.
Just beyond the gates, a swarm of media vehicles hummed their engines to life like a hive of angry bees. Several men and women were scrambling to load cameras into cars.
He ignored them as he got into his car and gunned it toward the front gate.
“Move!” Tristan gestured through his front windshield, trying to get the cars out of his way.
“Mr. Kingsley!” one man shouted, waving his press badge, but Tristan ignored him.
Blaring his horn, he nudged his car through a narrow gap on the road between the vehicles. A few minutes later he was cruising down the road, the lights of the vehicles racing behind him on the dark road. Nothing could dull his spirits, not tonight. He used his Bluetooth to dial Kat’s number. She answered on the first ring.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded stuffy, as though she had a cold.
“Darling? It’s me. Are you all right?” He glanced in his rearview mirror, noticing that a black SUV had gained ground on the road behind him. He pressed his foot on the gas, easing his car up in speed.
“Tristan?” The tremor of hope in the way she breathed his name sent his heart slamming against his ribs. How he’d missed the sound of her voice.
“I’m coming to you. Carter’s father attempted to resign. The old man wouldn’t hear of it. There’s nothing stopping us, nothing. Everything is all right. We’re going to be together.” And that realization filled him with joy.
A pause, and then she sniffled. “No more being apart?” Her excitement was an echo of his own.
Finally, his life was headed in a direction he wanted to go.
“No more being apart,” he promised, his eyes misting, forcing Tristan to blink.
“I saw the article,” Kat said, her tone soft. It was the way she’d sounded when they shared secrets in bed, opening their hearts.
“I meant every word.” A silly grin curved his lips.
“How soon will you be here? Should I go out and get dinner for us?” she asked hopefully.
He glanced at the dashboard clock. “I’ll be there in two hours. I’d love dinner.” There was so much more he needed to say but couldn’t. Not until he could do it in person.
“I’ll see you soon.” She laughed, the light, wonderful sound making everything right in his world again.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.”
Tristan pressed the disconnect button and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, still smiling.
The SUV behind him sped up, passing him on the right. The SUV’s window opened on the passenger side and a camera flashed.
Light blinded him, and he hit the brakes, trying to let the SUV past him. The paparazzi vehicle swerved closer, and he jerked the wheel to the left. The car ahead of him suddenly slammed on its brakes, and the safe distance between it and Tristan’s car vanished. He clipped the bumper of the car, and the Aston Martin skidded on the ice.
His lungs seized in panic as he tried to keep the car on the road, but the ice was too slick and he slid off the pavement.
Too fast…
There was an explosion of sounds and a violent jarring just as the world turned upside down. Glass shattered and splintered, embedding in him like diamond daggers. Pain rippled through his body and he couldn’t breathe. Tristan sucked at the air, helpless and hurting as numbness stole across his body. He blinked, coughed, and darkness started tunneling his vision.
Kat’s face fanned out of the growing night. He was leaning over her, ready to kiss her lips. Snow fell around them, coating her lashes and cheeks. Lips petal soft beneath his…
Kat…
Chapter 13
Kat checked the clock on her nightstand for the tenth time. The food she’d brought back to the dorm was cold and untouched on her desk.
Where was Tristan? He should have been here an hour ago. A creeping unease ate away at her. Why hadn’t he called?
A knot formed in her stomach, and a chill stole across her skin. It was the same feeling she’d had back in London when she and Tristan had parted without a good-bye.
She dialed his cell. It rang eight times before going to voice mail. Swallowing thickly, Kat fought off the rising panic.
“Tristan, where are you? I’m worried. Please call me back when you get this.” She hung up and forced herself to sit down.
Her phone rang and she jumped. “Tristan! Where are you?”
“Kat, honey, it’s Dad.” Her father spoke slowly, his voice strained.
“Dad, can I call you later? I’m waiting for Tristan—”
“That’s why I’m calling. Honey…” An awful silence made a pit in her stomach.
“What is it, Dad?” Something bad…something terrible had happened, but she needed to hear him say it.
“There’s been an accident.”
The world shrank around her, suffocating her. No…
“Tristan was leaving Pembroke, and one of the paparazzi cut him off. His car rolled into a ditch. Lizzy and I are headed to the hospital. We’ll call the second we know anything. I promise.”
Can’t breathe…Can’t…She was distantly aware of someone screaming, the sound ragged and full of horrible crushing pain.
“Kat!” her father shouted, and the scream died away.
Her scream. She’d been yelling so hard her throat burned.
“Kat, breathe, honey, please. Calm down.”
Her hands were shaking and she tried to focus on her father’s voice and what he was saying.
“Do you know Tristan’s friend Carter Martin?”
Gasping, she got out a few words. “Yes…why?”
“He’s going to meet you outside your college and bring you straight to the hospital.”
“Okay,” she managed.
“I promise to call as soon as I know anything.” Her father’s voice was shaky, and that scared the hell out of her.
“Clayton, we need to leave,” Lizzy said in the background.
“Coming,” he said away from the cell phone, then spoke to Kat again. “I’m sure Tristan will be okay. He’s a strong boy.”
Yes, Tristan was strong. But a car accident…Her stomach roiled, and she clutched it.
Her dad’s voice softened even more. “I’ve got to go, honey, but we’ll call you.”
“Okay.” Kat barely got the one word out, then hung up.
She grabbed her coat and purse before she left her room. The cold night air pierced her lungs as she ran down the icy sidewalk and through the front door of the college.
A black Porsche SUV was already waiting a few feet away. Celia glanced at her through the passenger window, pointing to the second row passenger side.
Kat understood and climbed in. Carter was already pulling the SUV away from the curb as she shut the door.
“We’re headed to the hospital. They took him to one of the best in London.” Celia turned around in her seat, a strained smile not hiding the glistening trails of tears on her cheeks.
“Is he…?” A tight lump formed in her throat.
“We don’t know anything yet. He’s in surgery.”
Surgery. Pain
lanced through Kat’s entire body. No…please no…
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Celia’s smile wilted and she turned to look at Carter. His jaw was clenched and one hand rested on the shift.
The narrow city streets became a blur as Kat tried to control her rushing thoughts. A hundred things she’d wanted to say to Tristan lingered at the edge of her mind like shadows.
Carter didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he held out his left hand, palm up. Celia tucked her fingers in his. Watching them, Kat realized they loved each other, and that cut her deep all over again.
Celia and Carter didn’t have any chance to be together, not like she and Tristan had. They are more trapped than we are.
How lucky she’d been to love Tristan for even a short while.
I want more time. I refuse to let go of him. Not till we’re old and gray and lived a life together full of love. She’d never been this sure of anything in her entire life.
The two hours it took to reach the hospital were agonizing. The only moment she remembered to breathe was when Carter’s phone rang.
Celia answered it and listened intently to the caller. When she hung up, she set the phone in the cup holder and sighed.
“That was Aunt Elizabeth. She said Tristan is out of surgery, and he’s in a medically induced coma. There was a lot of internal bleeding, but he’s stable for now. She warned us we might have trouble getting inside the hospital. Paparazzi from all over the city are waiting outside,” Celia said.
“What? Why?” Kat glanced out the car windows at the London streets.
Celia’s eyes widened. “You don’t know? After Tristan’s article in Monarch Magazine was published, all of London’s media has been calling out Uncle Edward over the opposition to your relationship. The press are going wild with the whole love story. You two are a modern-day Romeo and Juliet. Everyone is rooting for you to get back together. Tristan is a hero and you the luckiest girl in England, at least that’s what the Daily Mail said.” Celia checked her phone again for the tenth time since they’d left Cambridge.
Romeo and Juliet? We are just as star-crossed, Kat thought. She’d noticed the building press in Cambridge but hadn’t thought it had anything to do with her and Tristan until Carter had shown her the article in Monarch.
