The Princess's Scandalous Affair (Royal House of Leone Book 4)

by Jennifer Lewis

  “What rubbish.” Beatriz protested, but a teeny part of her remembered that getting the creepy texts did make the shelter of his strong arms that much more comforting. “I’m confident he had nothing to do with those texts. And I’d just invited him to eat with us on Thursday. He was looking forward to getting to know you all and putting all that foolish family history nonsense behind us, and now this. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Darling, these are not normal times,” said her mom. “Enough has happened that we have to put safety above etiquette. I’m sure it will go smoothly, and then we can all put it behind us and enjoy a nice dinner on Thursday.”

  Beatriz inhaled deeply. “I suppose so.” Lorenzo wouldn’t really refuse to be interviewed, would he? Darias had a point. If he had nothing to hide, then why worry?

  “Are we ever going to get to see all your gorgeous renovations?” asked Emma, in an obvious effort to change the subject.

  “Would you like to?” Beatriz hadn’t suggested it because people seemed overwhelmed with opinions whenever the lake house came up. “I know you all thought I was crazy to do it up, but I think you’ll see it differently now.”

  “I’d love to see it.” Emma clapped her hands together. “And Darias would too. Wouldn’t you?” She kissed him playfully on the cheek.

  He glowered a bit. “I wouldn’t mind. The last two times I’ve been there it was a recent crime scene so I have a rather negative impression of the place.”

  “Don’t worry, we got most of the blood out of the floors,” quipped Beatriz. “And if you dwell on that, then you’re letting the criminals win. It’s a beautiful old house that deserves to be lived in and enjoyed.”

  “I agree,” said Lina. “We can’t let evil people sour and destroy a fine old estate. I think Beatriz was right to reclaim it and put her stamp on it.”

  Beatriz smiled. Her mom was being sweet. She’d called the lake house a “grim old barrack of a place” more than once. “How about this afternoon?”

  “But you just got back!” her mom protested.

  “It’s really not that far. Only twenty minutes. We can have lunch in town and then head out there.” The idea had seized her, and now she wanted to share her new creation. She suddenly wondered if she’d left any of her designs lying around in her bedroom.

  Probably.

  But maybe it was time to begin sharing that dream too? She’d come out about her relationship with Lorenzo, she’d claimed her right to make a home for herself, and now she could show them her creative side as well. Suddenly her life was blossoming with potential—like her brothers’ and sisters’—and she had a wonderful feeling that the sky was the limit on her ambitions.

  “All right, let’s do it,” said Darias gruffly. “I could go for a plate of old man Andres’s schnitzel. I have to meet with the vineyard manager at four, but I’ll be back by then.”

  Emma grinned at Beatriz. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve done. I only saw it that one night—when Sandro got shot—and it was dark and gloomy and mysterious.”

  “It’s still rather mysterious—the lake has that effect—but it’s no longer gloomy. The windows are huge and fill all the rooms with light.”

  “Or moonlight,” muttered Darias.

  “It sounds marvelous, sweetheart,” said her mom. “Now let me think, what can I bring as a housewarming gift?”

  They ate a luxurious lunch at a restaurant old enough for their great-great-great-grandparents to have dined there, then headed off to the lake house in two cars. Spring was in full effect, with lush green grass carpeting the meadows and tiny wildflowers scattered across them like confetti.

  The drive to the lake house was a climb into the mountains, where the last of the winter’s snow still clung to the highest peaks. Even the road was improved. Beatriz suspected Darias of arranging that on the sly when he heard she was driving out there so much.

  “Here it is.” Nina and the security guards that monitored Darias, Emma and her mom all rushed out to open the gate before she could climb out of the car. The drive went along the lake, where they all oohed and ahhed over the dramatic way it reflected the mountains around it, toward the house.

  “I never noticed how beautiful it is here,” exclaimed Lina, as they approached.

  “C’mon, Mom,” said Darias. “You haven’t been here in fifteen years.”

  “Possibly not. I’m not sure I’ve ever been inside. Your father had pheasant shoots here from time to time so I stood around and froze outside the place.”

  “Yes, I got to know the estate from hunting here with Dad.” Beatriz remembered how much she’d loved those icy mornings when the horses came off the truck with steam pouring out of their nostrils. “It reminds me of the happy times we spent together.”

  They pulled up in front of the house, and she gave them a tour, pointing out all the historic details and explaining her choice of paint colors and upholstery and furnishings.

  “I’m floored,” her mom said. “It’s so stunning. Each room is just perfection. You took a dark old house that nobody wanted and made it fresh and modern and inviting.”

  “You have a lot of talent,” said Emma. “You could be a decorator.”

  “Oh, I just had fun with it.” Beatriz beamed inwardly. They had no idea that she planned to be far more than a decorator. If all went well her clothing could be in stores in just a few months.

  She had a few sketches loose on the desk in her study, but no one commented on them and she resisted the urge to point them out. All in good time.

  They were gathered around the giant marble pastry-making table in the kitchen, eating from a box of artisanal chocolates that Lina had picked up in town when Darias’s phone rang.

  “It’s Gibran.” He answered. Then frowned. “You’re kidding. He can’t do that, can he?” Darias looked right at Beatriz, alarm in his eyes.

  Beatriz felt a stab of anxiety pierce her gut. They must be talking about Lorenzo.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Darias continued staring at Beatriz—unnerving—as he listened to Gibran. He let out a curse. “We’ll see about that. I’ll get my lawyer on it today. If he refuses to talk to us, then other people might start to fight back as well. We need the ability to call anyone in for questioning, especially these high-ranking types.”

  Darias hung up. “Lorenzo’s refused the interview. He’s lawyered up, and they’re saying there’s no legal grounds for the interview to take place.”

  Beatriz hesitated, her loyalty to Lorenzo suddenly fierce. “Well, there isn’t, is there? He hasn’t done anything. He wasn’t anywhere near the murders. He isn’t in the Cross of Blood and had nothing to do with Emma’s kidnapping or Sandro getting shot. I don’t know why Gibran would want to talk to him.”

  “Because he’s trying to find out who’s sending you the texts.”

  “It’s not Lorenzo. I’m sure of it.”

  “Have you ever received one while you’re with him?” Darias lifted a brow.

  “No, but—” She inhaled. “This person has only texted me on two occasions.”

  “Both times when you were about to meet Lorenzo. Aren’t you the least bit suspicious?”

  “No.” Her voice rose. “I’m not. And I think it’s rotten of you to attack him. I’ve finally found a man I really like and you all want to come after him like he’s a criminal.” She felt tears closing her throat. “He doesn’t deserve that, and neither do I.”

  She wanted them all out of her house right now. Especially Darias.

  “I wish Rigo were here,” said Lina. “He’d know what to do.”

  Beatriz wanted to observe that the revered and respected Rigo actually liked Lorenzo but no one would believe her right now.

  “I’ve asked him to come repeatedly,” said Darias. “He has some case that’s more important to him than his own flesh and blood.”

  “Every case he has is the most important one in the world.” Lina sighed. “He’s always been like that. I suppose it’s why he’s such
a good lawyer.”

  “Well, I wish he’d put his talents to work in service of the family for a change.”

  “He’ll come. He promised he’d be here by the summer,” said Lina.

  “I’m heading back. I have to meet with the vineyard manager. And I’m going to call my lawyer on the way. We can’t let him get away with this.”

  Darias nodded his goodbyes. Emma hesitated. “I’ll stay a bit if that’s okay,” she said softly.

  “Sure.” He kissed her warmly on the cheek. “I’ll be home for dinner.”

  As the door closed behind him, Emma leaned into Beatriz. “I’m sorry about Darias being so gruff. The responsibility of being king weighs heavily on him.”

  “I know.” Beatriz had managed to get her tears under control. “But sometimes I think he forgets he’s my twin brother, not my lord and master. You guys do realize that Lorenzo isn’t behind this, don’t you?” She looked from her mom to Emma and back.

  Her mom stroked her arm. “We’re with you one hundred percent, sweetie. I wish he would have just gone ahead with the interview and cleared the air. But it’ll blow over. Don’t worry. Will you show us what you plan to do with the gardens?”

  Beatriz let out a long sigh. She wished she could tell them how much Lorenzo had already done for her. He was the one who’d built her confidence enough for her to even think about renovating this place.

  But patience had always been one of her virtues. She was good at quietly waiting. It had been trained into her from an early age. One day they’d all know what a wonderful, warm and giving man Lorenzo was, and until then she’d best keep her mouth shut. “Sure. I’ve been talking to a landscaper, and they’re bringing in some trees for an orchard next week. Let’s go.”

  Beatriz had intended to ride back to the palace with them—she’d left her own car there—but now she wanted to be alone to talk to Lorenzo so she convinced them to leave her behind. She apologized to Nina for the lack of warning—neither of them had an overnight bag—and arranged for her car and some essential items to be brought by the staff.

  As soon as she was alone in her bedroom with the door closed, she picked up her phone and called Lorenzo.

  “Hello, Beatriz.” He spoke softly, but she could hear a hint of reserve in his voice.

  “Why did you refuse the interview?” She couldn’t hold back.

  “As I said before, I’m a businessman with a reputation to protect. I can’t allow myself to be called in for questioning when there’s no evidence—circumstantial or otherwise—to suggest that I’m guilty of anything.”

  “But just refusing makes you look guilty.” She paced around her room. “They’ll think you have something to hide. And most likely you’ll have to do it anyway.”

  “My lawyer assures me that a judge will uphold my right to refuse unless further evidence is produced.” His voice shimmered with steel. “And there will be no further evidence because, as we both know, I had nothing to do with the texts or the murders or anything else.”

  She sighed. “I’m just upset because everything was starting to go well. I was finally ready to introduce you to everyone as my…my boyfriend. Now they’re all upset and on edge about this. Well, Darias is, anyway.”

  “And he’s the king.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But he’s also your brother so I’m sure you can talk sense into him.”

  “It’s precisely because he’s my brother that I can’t talk sense in to him.” She sighed. “He was overprotective before he became king. Now he’s impossible.”

  “Your brother Rigo called me this afternoon.”

  “What?” She spun around. “Why?”

  “I guess Darias told him about the situation. He told me to tread very carefully because at heart this is a murder investigation. He also happened to point out that you told me the location of the Cross of Blood initiation where Sandro was shot.”

  “What? How did he even know that?” Beatriz blinked, her brain spinning.

  “I don’t know, but you did tell me the location. That it would be right there, at the lake house.”

  “So what? You weren’t here that night.” She glanced around, suddenly spooked.

  “But if I was part of some big conspiracy, which they seem to suspect, I could have told others about it.”

  Did you? Doubts suddenly creaked inside her. She brushed them away. Lorenzo had done nothing whatsoever that was suspicious.

  Why had Rigo called Lorenzo instead of her? Her brothers were enough to drive anyone to drink. “What else did Rigo say?”

  “That he’d be arriving soon to bring his sharp legal mind to bear on the situation.”

  She knew those weren’t her brother’s exact words. He was far too cagey for that. “Well, that’s good. He might see something that everyone else has missed. And I wish you’d reconsider and go talk to Gibran. It can be private. No one will even know you did it.”

  “Impossible. In this day and age everyone knows what everyone did, and if they don’t know it now it will come out later. The gossip papers have started printing pictures of you and me together. I’m sure they’d love a story about how the princess’s new lover is under suspicion of murder.”

  “So you think we should stop seeing each other?” Her mind immediately ran to the worst case scenario.

  “Rigo made that suggestion.”

  “What?” Her blood boiled. “Who does he think he is? My brothers are so arrogant to think they can tell me what to do. Except without even bothering to talk to me. You’re not going to listen to him, are you?”

  “No. It’s just important to keep news of our romance entirely separate from stories about the criminal investigation into the conspiracy against your family. And let’s postpone my having dinner with them until this blows over. That would just be awkward if they all suspect me of something.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” She looked out the window toward the lake. The sun disappeared behind the tall mountains by late afternoon and the whole landscape took on an eerie glamour. She suddenly felt a deep ache of loneliness. “Can you come over?”

  “I’m on my way right now.”

  Relief flooded her veins. At least this wasn’t going to come between them. “See you soon.”

  She put her phone down and stretched to release some of the tension tightening her muscles. Then her phone pinged again. She picked it up, half hoping he’d sent her a reassuring romantic message.

  But it was from another unknown number. Heart pumping, she pressed the button.

  What makes you so sure Lorenzo isn’t the murderer?

  Her flesh prickled, and she glanced over her shoulder. She wanted to text something back. I just know. But she didn’t. She didn’t want to engage with whoever this creep was.

  At least she knew for sure it wasn’t Lorenzo. He’d hardly send a text suggesting his own guilt.

  I should tell Nina. She didn’t want to. It would unleash a firestorm of new drama. Gibran would rush over here and guards would man the perimeter and—if the last two times were any guide—nothing else would happen. These texts could be from some random person hundreds or thousands of miles away who just wanted to mess with her.

  And she wanted to be alone with Lorenzo, to heal the wounds caused by this legal mess and shore up their relationship before some other missile was lobbed at it.

  She held her phone, debating what to do. She decided to sit tight until Lorenzo arrived. At least then if they did report it they could present a united front.

  Another text arrived when you were about to meet Lorenzo? She could hear the suspicious murmurs already. Even if she did tell them, what could they do that they weren’t doing already?

  But she might go out of her mind worrying and waiting. And what if he was in danger? She dialed Lorenzo’s number.

  He picked up. “I’m at the gate. Nina’s opening it for me.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  “Is anything wrong?” Concern deepened his voice.
/>   “I’ll tell you in a minute.”

  She rushed downstairs to meet him at the front door, then hesitated before opening it, peering through the peephole. The afternoon had faded into dusk and long shadows from the mountains hovered over the landscape and the house. She watched the glow of his headlights crawl up the drive and stop near the door.

  Once he was climbing the steps, she opened the door. “What’s going on?” His jaw was taut. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

  Beatriz glanced over his shoulder to where Nina was climbing out of her car. “I’ll tell you upstairs.”

  His brow furrowed, but he followed her up. In her bedroom she closed the door, picked up her phone and showed him the text.

  He stared at it. “You think it’s me?” She was surprised to hear anger in his voice.

  “Of course not! Why would you send a text accusing yourself? And I wouldn’t show it to you if I thought it was you. But I didn’t want to tell Nina and bring the whole palace security apparatus down on our heads. They’d just press harder to interrogate you.”

  “My lawyer assures me that is impossible.”

  “Unless there’s another incident. And whoever is behind this could make that happen.” She shivered involuntarily.

  Lorenzo gathered her into his arms. She realized they hadn’t even kissed yet, both so tense and overwrought from the events of the day. “Relax. Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I know.” She sank into his strength. “I’m just worn out after all the drama today. I brought my family here to show them the house, though. They loved it. They don’t think I’m crazy for fixing it up anymore.”

  “They thought you were crazy?”

  “Yes.” She let a smile pull at her mouth. “It’s been uninhabited and used only as a place for macho hunting parties since the 1960s at least. And then the murders…” She drew in a ragged breath. “But I told them I feel close to Dad and Grandmama here. That I’ve taken the house back for us.”

  Lorenzo kissed her softly on the lips. “You’ve brought it to life again.”