by Scott, S. L.
I can’t imagine Hutton will go to his room, but maybe his anger gets the best of him. I just hope he’s not angry with me.
Laughter echoes through the grand hallway where the dinner guests take their drinks and wander across to the library where this evening began. The duke stands, waiting on me, appearing pleased as punch as I get my glass topped to the brim with red wine before I leave with him.
I don’t take the offered elbow. Not his. I walk with my wine and my head held high, trying everything I can do to deter him from doing what I think he’s about to.
We walk through the arched doors to the veranda. The sky is clear. The moon is full and bright. The only chill in the air is the vibe I’m sending into the world. This better be snappy. I have an angry alpha to tend to . . .
Dick says, “You look lovely tonight, Arabelle.”
“Thank you. I prefer Princess.”
“Yes.” He chuckles. “You’ll make a beautiful queen. Speaking of, I spoke with the queen and prince this morning before I took our guests to Sutcliffe Castle.” He walks ahead of me, which in itself is considered ill-mannered, and I chug a good fourth of my wine before he turns back. “They said they would speak with you.”
“They did. I’m going to New York on Friday.”
“Oh.” His expression sours. “I was not informed of this decision.”
“Why would you be?”
“Well, I thought we’d start making the proper arrangements.”
He makes it sound like a funeral. It feels like one to me. “The only arrangements I’m making are for this business deal to close so we can move on in life.”
Dick says, “I agree. Put the pieces in place so when our engagement is announced, they’ll be ready for our first official appearance. Something about the Everests rubs me wrong.” Ironic because everything about Hutton rubs me right. “I’m leaning toward Yamagata.”
There’s so much I want to say about what he just did, but I need to get myself out of this situation. “Please be open-minded when it comes to the deal. I’ll send back a report with my thoughts, so everyone has all the necessary details to make an informed decision.” I take two gulps, not being ladylike at all in my rush to get out of here. “As for us, that’s tabled too. My parents advise. They don’t force.”
“But, Princess, this match was made the day you were born.”
Holding one hand up, I shake my head. “I will not be bartered or given in trade for the highest dowry. I’ll rule as I live—with thought and care. It’s the same for who I choose to marry.”
He scoffs. “You act as if your choice—love—plays a role in this decision.”
“For me, it does.”
“Tread lightly, Princess. You don’t have many offers on the table.”
He makes my blood boil. Remembering what Hutton told me about the manner in which the duke spoke to the staff makes me angry all over again. He doesn’t respect them, and he’ll never respect me either. Fuck him. He needs a swift reminder. Preferably to his little dick. Fuck him. “What are you saying? That no one wants me? You’d be wrong, sir.”
I turn away to go inside, but he snatches my arm, and I’m pulled back against him—his mouth to my ear—so fast that shock stiffens my muscles. “You’re as spoiled as your reputation.” His fingers dig into my arm. “You’d be lucky to marry into the Vaughns, Belle. So consider this my formal proposal.”
Yanking my arm from his clutches, I stay close to make sure he hears. “Speaking of treading lightly, watch how you speak to me, Duke, or that might be the last time you retain that name.”
I put my back to him and start up the stairs to the veranda. On the third step, I turn back, and say, “Just in case I wasn’t clear enough for you, the answer to your proposal is a resounding and permanent no.”
22
Hutton
Pacing my room got me nowhere. Literally. It didn’t cool the anger I felt either. That fucker couldn’t wait to get my Ally out of there.
I’ve been doing things wrong, not playing the game. I should have taken this royal situation more seriously. While I was busy picking up where Ally and I left off, this dick was making his move on her parents. Did I lose focus?
No. What Ally thinks is all that matters.
As soon as I enter the library, the butler tells me that the guests have moved to the media room. I wait for a bourbon neat, needing a strong drink to calm me. My mind is in overdrive, wondering what Dick and Ally are doing and what they’re talking about that couldn’t be said in front of us.
With a drink in hand, I head in to join the others. When I enter the room, Bennett waves me over, but I see her father, the crowned prince, sitting around a poker table with Jakob and Mr. Yamagata.
“Bennett.” I nod toward the table. When he joins my side, he says, “I’m more of a dice man.”
“You’re a poker man tonight. C’mon.”
“We saved two seats, gentlemen.” Jakob welcomes us over. “Willing to wager?”
“I sure am.” I sit down. “What’s the ante?”
Mr. Yamagata replies, “Ten thousand US.”
“I really suck at poker,” Bennett says, dragging his hands down his pants before he sits. He orders a lager and two shots when a butler delivers drinks.
Looking at my glass, I’m going to need another. I want Ally back here and away from that asshat. The longer she’s gone, the antsier I get. “Another, please.” Leaning over, I tell Bennett, “I’ll cover your debts tonight, but play big.”
“Why?”
Chips are set down in front of us. I pick up one of the one-hundred-thousand-dollar stacks and set it next to the others. While the others discuss soccer, I lean over, and whisper, “Because we need to kick everyone’s ass and show them we’re not going down without a fight.”
“Are we talking about poker, the deal, or are you talking about the princess?”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Princess it is.”
I’m not a gambling man by nature, but tonight I am. “Ante.”
We toss our chips in and wait for the cards to be dealt. Our drinks are served, and our empties collected. I did well before becoming part owner of Everest Enterprises, but now I have money to burn and, apparently, an ax to grind. I’m invested balls deep in this game.
Jakob calls the round before I have time to think about my hand. Fuck me. There goes ten K without a second thought. “A pair of queens.” Ironically.
“Full house,” Bennett says, laughing. “Maybe I do need to be a card man.” Winning the pot, he pulls the chips to his pile and stacks his winnings while the next hand is dealt.
I lose fifty thousand before I feel like I’m getting in the swing of things again. Although the bourbon warms me, I feel Ally’s father’s ice-cold stare between hands. I finally wager more than money. “Something on your mind, Prince Werner?”
“Actually there is. I’ve tried to work my way through what I’ve heard from Jakob versus—”
“Versus?”
“We’ve had some information brought to our attention,” he says, organizing his cards. Glancing up, he looks at me. “Brudenbourg is a small country but a proud people. We trust each other by their word, and a handshake is as strong as a binding contract. We’re fiercely protective of our image because our tourism and revenue are based on how the world views us. When problems arise, we deal with it.” His eyes return to his cards, and new ones replace our discards.
“Has a problem arisen?”
He shows his hand. “It was brought to our attention that you were arrested for disorderly conduct.”
“Whoa. I did not see that coming.” I glance at my poker opponents, landing lastly on Bennett, who shakes his head, disappointed, no doubt, that this has been brought up.
He says, “That was four years ago.”
Laying my cards down, I say, “I would have thought your initial background check would have spotted that blemish.”
“We were looking into your current life in
New York and assets. Upon further investigation, it seems we missed what you call blemishes.” Her father is not wearing the crown, but he might as well be by how high and fucking mighty he sits on that imaginary pedestal.
Another losing hand feels fitting for this conversation. I take a drink and then show my own hand—my life—laying it all out for him to see. “I was arrested when my brother was cheap-shotted in the back while helping a woman trying to get away from her abusive boyfriend.”
Mr. Yamagata asks, “What is cheap-shotted? This is not a term I’ve heard before.”
Bennett replies, “It’s when someone hits you when you’re not looking. I was punched in the back.”
Yamagata says, “Ah, yes, a low blow.”
I nod. “Yep, it was definitely a low blow. That’s why I couldn’t let him get away with it. I stand by my brothers. They’re not only family, but they’re also my best friends. Attacking one of us is the same as attacking all of us.”
Jakob sits forward, his cards on the table. “My sister did that for me.”
I know he means Ally, because that is true to her character. Before I can ask to hear the story, his father snaps, “Your sister hasn’t been arrested.” Ally’s dad stands, clearly agitated, judging by the angry lines carved into his brow. “Please stay out of this, Jakob.” His father presses his fingers into the green felt-top table, whitening the tips. “As I was saying, our image and tourism are everything. Brudenbourg won’t survive if our reputation is tarnished, even if by association.”
“Are you saying—?”
“Princess Arabelle,” Bennett says, standing up.
In a piss-poor mood, I turn around. Oh fuck. Her tiara is crooked, her hair messier than when she left, and black has seeped into the skin under her eyes. What the fuck? I’m on my feet and about to rush to her, but something in her eyes, a plea and small shake of her head tells me to stay. “Al—Princess?”
“Please don’t get up for me.” Her hands wave at us to continue as though my heart isn’t beating out of my chest to reach hers. “I only stopped by to say good night.”
Jakob and Mr. Yamagata wish her a good night as if she’s not standing there falling apart inside. Bennett steps forward, concerned as well. Not even looking at his daughter, her father dismisses her as if she’s a bother. “Night.”
Our eyes catch once more when she turns to leave. The door closes, and I’m on the move. “I’m retiring for the night. Bennett will handle the chips. Good night, gentlemen.”
Swinging the door open, I run into Duke Dick’s smug grin and shiny gold epaulets. “Where are you rushing off to, Everest?”
“Pardon me.” I push past him because I don’t give a shit about him. Only Ally.
“Stay and play a few hands. I was hoping to take your money.”
His arrogance seems to be amped up tonight. Why’s he so fucking cocky? I stop to get a real good look at him. “Where have you been?”
Bennett appears in the doorway when Dick’s grin turns down. “Strolling with the princess.”
“Strolling, huh?”
“That’s what we’re calling it.”
A click of the tongue and boys’ club wink are about to send me charging into him, but Bennett grabs his arm and tugs him into the room. “We’ve been waiting for you.” My brother kicks the door closed, and I’m left with this anger boiling inside.
If he touched one hair on her head, I’ll end that motherfucker.
Fuck him.
I need her.
Taking the stairs by three to the second floor, I stop on the landing, knowing I’m not supposed to be on the third floor, much less knocking on her door. Her words come back to me. “Stick to the outside edges of the walkway and the camera won’t catch you.”
I rush toward the red curtains on this floor as I decide if it’s best to take the stairs or find another way when I hear, “Psst.”
Looking around, I don’t see anyone at first, but when I hear it again, I make out a small woman at the far end of the floor, closer to my door. With deep red cheeks and messy blond hair sprouting out from under a white handkerchief, she smiles.
“Me?” I ask, pointing at my chest as I move quickly in that direction.
“Yes, you’re Hutton.”
She’s not asking me, but I feel the need to still confirm. “Yes, I’m Hutton.”
“Come here,” she demands, waving me over to her. I bend down, and she squeezes my cheek. What the hell? “You’re just as handsome as our Belle said.”
Ally’s talked about me? I like that. “She did, huh?”
“She’s sweet on you.”
Grabbing my hand, she pulls me down a hall. “That’s good to hear because I’m sweet on her.” She can’t be more than five foot, but she’s ox strong. “Who are you?”
“Birgit. I’m head cook for the Sutcliffes. Have been since Queen Aemilia was a princess herself.”
Her joy is contagious when I shake her hand, and I smile in response. “Nice to meet you, Birgit. Now where are you taking me?”
“To the staff stairs.” She opens a door, and I walk inside. “You won’t get caught by the family or any of the other guests if you use this stairwell.”
The stairs are black, and the cream-colored walls have many years’ worth of handprints staining them. “Will I get in trouble for using these stairs?”
“Belle used these stairs her whole life when she wanted to get around without being seen.”
We climb slowly to the next floor. She’s not quick, but Birgit is friendly, entertaining, and I like that she protects Ally. I open the door on the third floor for her, but she shoos me. “Go. Be quick, and no one should see you.”
“Thank you. It was nice to meet you.” I’m not sure what to do—shake a hand, walk away, or hug her.
Beating me to the punch, she says. “I’m a married woman. Keep your googly eyes on Belle.”
I laugh, but then realize I need to keep my voice down. Whispering, I say, “He’s a lucky man.”
“Toot scootin’, he is. Like you. You’re a very lucky man to have caught not only her eyes but also her heart. Take care of it. It’s softer than folks realize.”
I realize. “I will.”
Checking this floor for any movement, I don’t see any, so I make a run for Ally’s door. I knock once, and then again before it swings opens, and I’m pulled in.
Pressed against the wood paneling, she rests against me, putting her head on my chest. “I’m so glad you’re here, Hutton.”
“Are you all right?” My arms wrap around her, and I hold her tight. She’s so small in my arms, even smaller when she’s sad. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Sweetheart?” She rests her chin on my chest and looks at me with the true youth of her years residing in her eyes.
“My Ally. My girl. My baby. My princess. My sweetheart. You’re all those things and more to me.”
“Your girl?” she says, her emotions choking her.
I kiss the tip of her nose and then caress her cheeks and kiss her forehead. “Definitely my girl.” When she begins to tear up, I say, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I was a fool. I thought all fairy tales had happy endings.”
“Ours does.” My words are quieter, and although I know what I’m saying, tasting the words means so much more.
Innocence. Trust. Love. Her irises are filled with everything she feels for me. “I wish we were going to New York sooner. I want to escape, to leave this place for a little while.”
“We can go anytime you want.”
Excitement gleams in her skies. “We can?”
“I only have to make a phone call, and the jet will be ready when we are.” It’s the first time I’ve gotten a good look of her in the low light of the room. She’s washed her face clean of makeup, and her hair is down and silky brown. But her fingers twist around my shirt, tugging it free. “I want to be with you.”
“I’m here.” Tilting my head to the side, I want to see her eyes. Despera
tion colors her expression, so I stroke her cheek, hoping to ease whatever aches she’s feeling inside. “I’m here for you. What do you need, baby?”
“You. Always. Kiss me, Hutton.”
When I do kiss her, her lips take mine, and my tie is pushed to the side, and my shirt is yanked up. As much as I love being with her, having her desire me, something about this doesn’t sit well. I stop the frenzy and hold her hands between us. “What’s wrong? What happened with Dick?”
Her panting breaths heat my chest as she stares straight ahead. “Nothing. I just missed you.”
“Then why aren’t you looking me in the eyes?”
She never shies away from a challenge. Her bright eyes find mine, and she angles her chin up. “I am.”
“Now. You are now, but something is wrong. Tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I want to have sex with you. Is that not good enough?”
“Good enough?” What a fucking strange way to put it. “You’re good enough. If anything’s not, it’s me even having a chance to spend time with you. So you wanting me is more than good, but something else is going on with you. Something happened, and we’re not burying this conversation under a physical act. Tell me what happened that has upset you so much. What happened with Dick?”
Turning her back to me, she lowers her head as she walks toward the bed. “I told him no.”
“No?” I stare at her. A roar becomes a rage. “No to what, Ally?”
She looks back at me. “To marrying him.” Tears sparkle in her eyes like diamonds, but I wish they had the same pretty shine. “And to his advances.”
My heart stops beating. Images from earlier—makeup smeared and a crooked tiara barely hanging on to messed-up hair—flood my mind. My next question comes slow, the words calculated. “And then what happened?”
“He didn’t take no for an answer.”
23
Princess Arabelle
Quiet . . .
Pretty and quiet.
Don’t make a sound.
“Hutton?” Like every other rule in my life, I manage to break the cardinal palace rule. I never was good at following them. “Wait, Hutton,” I shout, holding the railing and reeling around it.
