A Royal Embarrassment

by Emma Lea

  Chase dipped his head in a nod of understanding. I refused to notice the look of sad resignation in his eyes. I meant what I said, if it wasn’t for Titania I would have flat out refused to work with him. There was nothing he could say or do to get me to forgive him for betraying me the way he did. I would work with him, but that was as far as it was going to go. Our friendship was dead and there was nothing he could do to resurrect it.

  Savannah

  “You’ve got a visitor,” Margaret hissed.

  I lifted my eyes to look at her. Her back was pressed up against the door and her face was white with two high spots of colour on her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and she looked like she’d seen a ghost.

  “What?”

  Margaret made a weird motion with her head indicating someone was behind the door. “You have a visitor,” she mouthed.

  “O-kay,” I replied, puzzled by her weird behaviour. I stood to my feet and moved toward the door.

  “You can’t go out there like that,” she hissed, leaving the safety of the door to herd me toward the back of the room where there were racks of clothing. Samples from various designers and boutiques. We were constantly sent items in the hopes that the queen or one of the ladies in waiting would be seen out and about in them.

  Pushing me to the side, Margaret flicked through the racks until she found a pair of long camel-coloured pants and a cream, halter-neck blouse with a cute pussy-cat bow at the throat. She shoved them into my hands and then pulled a cream jacket as well.

  “Stop,” I said with a laugh. “There is nothing wrong with what I’m wearing.” I looked down at my straight black skirt and pale pink business shirt.

  A knock on the door had Margaret’s face going whiter, if that was even possible. I quirked an eyebrow at her and pushed past her to answer the door. She tried to stop me, but I ignored her. I didn’t have time for these games.

  I opened the door and stopped short. The queen was standing in the small outer room that served as a kind of waiting room. Standing and chatting with the queen was Lord Martin. He turned and smiled at me when the door opened. He really was very good-looking.

  “Your Majesty,” I said, curtsying quickly to the queen before acknowledging Martin. “Lord Bower.”

  Alyssa waved away the formalities. “I think we all know each other well enough to not stand on ceremony,” she said.

  “Are you both here to see me?” I asked, looking between them.

  “A happy coincidence, as it happens,” Alyssa said with a mile-wide grin that had me feeling nervous. “I was just dropping by to check on your progress for the Winter Ball when I found Martin here already waiting for you.”

  I shot a quick look at Martin. He’d come here to see me? That made sense of Margaret’s earlier behaviour. I was beginning to think she might have a small crush on the marquess ever since he had escorted her to the last dinner party.

  “Lord Martin?” I asked. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Ah, yes,” he replied and if I didn’t know better I would’ve thought he was nervous. “I wondered whether you would like to join me for lunch.”

  “Lunch?”

  He looked at Alyssa and then back at me. “If you are too busy now, I can come back another time.”

  “Nonsense,” Alyssa said. “I can speak to Savannah later, there’s no rush. If I’m honest, I just needed an excuse to get out of my own office and look at something pretty.” She looked at the small watch on her wrist. “Why don’t you go with Martin and take the rest of the day off,” she said, grinning wickedly at me.

  “Um,” I looked over my shoulder at Margaret, who was staring dreamily at Martin. Beyond her I could see the mess of my office and I desperately wanted to escape back into it and hide from Alyssa’s very embarrassingly obvious matchmaking attempt.

  “If you’re too busy…” Martin said, and the note of disappointment in his voice won me over.

  I turned back to him and smiled. “I’m not too busy,” I said. “I’d love to have lunch with you.”

  His eyes lit up as he smiled and I couldn’t help but smile back. Alyssa rubbed her hands together and grinned like the Cheshire cat.

  “Let me just get my coat,” I said.

  Martin nodded and I escaped back into my office, Margaret following me and closing the door behind us.

  “Quick,” I said, “I need to change.” My outfit was fine for conducting business in the palace, but I had an image to protect and if I was going to have lunch with Martin then I needed to make sure I was dressed appropriately. I was the queen’s stylist, after all.

  I didn’t have any romantic interest in Martin—I didn’t have any romantic interest in anyone—but I needed to get out of the office and out of my own head. All weekend I had been obsessing over the kiss and the fact that Jed had walked away. What did that mean? What did it mean that a man could walk away from an earth-shattering kiss like that without even looking back? It had been a while since I’d kissed anyone—the previous weekend notwithstanding—but I didn’t think I had forgotten how. From my perspective it was a pretty darn good kiss. Not that I wanted anything to develop from it. I had no interest in Jed whatsoever, but surely a kiss that had left me grappling for some sort of equilibrium was worthy of a conversation of some sort? It had been radio silence from him, not to mention the whole walking away thing. So maybe agreeing to go to lunch with Martin was a bit more of an ego-soothing thing than because I was interested in the marquess. Was it wrong that I needed my ego stroked after such a painfully blatant rejection?

  “There,” Margaret said as she tucked a stray strand of my hair into place. “Perfect.”

  I took a look at myself in the mirror and exhaled. Margaret had a good eye. The outfit she pulled for me was indeed perfect.

  “Will you be okay if I go?” I asked, turning to her and studying her face.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “It’ll give me a chance to sort through some of this mess.”

  We both looked around the room and I huffed out a laugh. I was not the tidiest person to work with and the more frazzled I got, the worse the mess around me got. And these last few days I had been frazzled and it had nothing to do with the upcoming ball and everything to do with the man who was invading my nearly every waking moment and all of my dreams at night. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the man I was about to go out on a date with.

  “Go,” Margaret said. “I’ve got this.”

  Chapter 9

  Jed

  I eased Mistborn to a stop and squinted into the distance. If I wasn’t mistaken, that was Savannah standing on the palace steps with someone. A man. I urged Mistborn a little closer, my heart double-timing in my chest. If that was Chase standing with her making her laugh like that then I…well, I wasn’t sure what I would do, but it wouldn’t be good.

  I wasn’t relieved when I got close enough to see that it was Lord Martin with her. I should have felt better that she was staying away from Chase but the uncomfortably tight feeling in my chest didn’t release as he slipped a hand to the small of her back and guided her down the stairs to the car that had just pulled up for them.

  They were going out.

  Together.

  On what I could only assume was a date.

  It was a lunch time date but still…it was a date. I shouldn’t have felt anything at the knowledge. I should have turned Mistborn around and continued riding as if seeing her and Martin together was nothing. So why couldn’t I? Why was I frozen in place as he helped her into the car and then slid in next to her? Because I was an idiot who would never learn.

  The car drove away and, disgusted with myself, I turned Mistborn toward the forest. I kicked him into a run and tried to focus on something other than the infuriating woman who had invaded my life. Only an idiot would repeat the same mistake over and over again. I refused to be an idiot…again.

  There were so many reasons that Savannah was bad for me, not least of which was that I didn’t even want a woman in my life. Once upon a time
I might have thought about getting married and having a family, but those dreams died two years ago. I was too dumb then to see the warning signs, but I was fully clued in now. Caroline had well-schooled me in the warning signs of a disingenuous woman, only I hadn’t learned those lessons until it was too late and my heart had been ripped out, still beating and bloody, from my chest.

  Like Savannah, Caroline too had been very particular about what she wore and how people saw her. Savannah’s very job was making sure the people in her world looked good. The very fact that she hid her father and her son in the woods was a dead give-away about how she felt about appearances. It was calculated and underhanded and everything I hated. She was deceiving so many people, just like Caroline had. Oh, I had believed Caroline’s excuses and even helped her cover up some of her indiscretions all because I had fallen hard for her, but she was playing me all along. I was just a stepping stone for her. My name, my family and the size of our bank account was all she ever cared about. I’d just been the poor sap who fell hook, line, and sinker for her big eyes and seeming naïveté. The woman had thoroughly fooled me right up until she exposed herself in more ways than one.

  And Chase had helped her do it.

  I really didn’t think my day could get any worse. The meeting with Chase had been hard enough. Seeing Savannah trot off on a date with Lord Martin added to the turmoil in my head. Maybe in a normal situation I would actually like the guy, but right now he felt more like my competition. I shouldn’t even care, but even as my head told my heart to grow a spine, my heart relived those few moments when Savannah had kissed me. My brain agreed that it trumped the kiss I had laid on Savannah.

  I tugged Mistborn to a stop just before he managed to side swipe me off my saddle. The horse knew I was distracted and purposely headed for a low-hanging branch. My mind was so completely befuddled by Savannah and the turmoil between my heart and my head that I very nearly ended up on the ground and seeing stars. The woman would be the death of me.

  Mistborn tossed his head in irritation and side stepped impatiently under me. I gripped him with my knees and guided him onto the path that went into the forest. Maybe I could keep my head, and my seat, if I was forced to pay attention to my surroundings.

  We picked our way along the narrow path and I kept low in the saddle, ducking under low branches. The day was cool but clear and the ground was muddy where it mixed with the snow. The silence of the surroundings pressed in on me. Normally I loved the quiet, but with my head so loud, I needed a distraction and Mistborn was a lot of things but a sparkling conversationalist he was not.

  It was a relief when the heavy silence was broken by noisy, raucous, and not particularly melodious singing. I halted Mistborn and cocked my head to listen. With a soft clucking of my tongue I guided Mistborn toward the sound. I was pretty sure I knew who it was, the French lyrics were a bit of a giveaway.

  We came to stop at the edge of the same clearing where Mistborn threw me on the day I met Savannah. Sitting on a log, with an almost empty bottle of what looked like cognac, was Savannah’s father. He looked a little worse for wear—unshaven, his shirt untucked, no jacket and the telltale ruddy cheeks of someone who’d had too much to drink.

  “Ho there cowboy,” he said, interrupting his singing to greet me.

  I slid from Mistborn’s saddle, but didn’t let go of the reins. Knowing the horse the way I did, he would take any opportunity to escape.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” I said, tipping my hat. “Are you okay?”

  “Never better,” he said before taking a drink and promptly falling off the back of the log.

  I managed to hoist Savannah’s father onto Mistborn, much to the horse’s disgust. Savannah’s father didn’t protest much and helped not at all. I led the horse and inebriated rider along the well-trodden path to the cabin. The door opened and Archer stared out at us, puzzled at first, but then his face cleared and he smiled at Mistborn.

  I loosely tied Mistborn’s reins to the porch railing and helped the older man off the horse and into the cabin. Archer followed us in but left the door open so he could watch Mistborn. The two of them had a weird bond that I didn’t understand.

  “Archer, my boy,” Savannah’s father bellowed, “bring me another bottle.”

  “Yes Pépé,’ Archer said, scurrying off.

  “Thanks for the ride home,” the man said, looking up at me. He was looking just over my shoulder, not quite making eye contact and his voice, although jovial on the surface, held a note of…shame?

  “I’m sorry, sir,” I said, sitting down on the chair opposite him, “but I don’t know your name.”

  “Mathieu,” he said and sighed. “Lord Mathieu Rousseau, Viscount of Libellule.”

  “Viscount?” I asked, surprised.

  He nodded and then smiled as Archer returned with a bottle…of water. His smile turned into a frown as he glared at Archer. “This is not what I asked for,” he growled.

  “No, but it is what Maman told me to give you.”

  “Your maman is here?” Mathieu asked, looking around, his eyes wide.

  “Non,” Archer replied. “She told me last time to only give you water.”

  Mathieu swore under his breath, but Archer didn’t pay him any attention, instead turning his big eyes on me.

  “Why did you bring my pépé home?” he asked.

  “He fell over,” I replied, “and I thought he might be hurt.”

  “He does that a lot,” Archer replied.

  “Not a lot,” Mathieu said. “De temps à autre. Occasionally. Mostly when le portefeuille is empty.”

  “Le porte—”

  “His wallet,” Archer said. “He pays money to play cards. Sometimes he wins and sometimes he doesn’t. More times he doesn’t.”

  Mathieu looked down at the glass in his hand. “Ç’est la vie, yes?” he asked, looking up at me with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  What the hell had I stumbled into? Was Savannah aware of her father’s…habits? Obviously she had to be otherwise why would Archer know to give the older man water? How could she leave her young son in Mathieu’s care when she knew he was liable to go off to a card game, leaving Archer alone, and come home drunk? I gritted my teeth to stop myself from saying something not appropriate for young ears.

  Mathieu must have read the questions in my eyes. “She doesn’t know,” he said softly. “Not about the card games. She doesn’t know and you can’t tell her.”

  I rolled my lips together, staring the man down.

  “You don’t understand,” he said. “You can’t.” He shook his head and took a long drink of his water. “Archer,” he said, “go and play outside.”

  Archer jumped up and headed out the door enthusiastically. I could hear him murmur quietly to Mistborn through the open door. I still didn’t trust the horse, but he was tied up and I figured he couldn’t do too much damage.

  “I am an old man,” Mathieu said, his voice tired. “Too old to get a job.”

  “But you’re a viscount,” I said, not understanding where he was headed with this line of conversation.

  Mathieu snorted. “A man with a title and nothing more.”

  I looked at him expectantly. Didn’t titles mean estates and big old mansions and servants?

  “I lost everything. It was why Savannah’s mother left me. She wanted the world and I tried to give it to her only to lose everything in the process. Nothing was ever enough for Marguitte. Before I knew it, we were in so much debt that bankruptcy was my only answer. We lost everything and I lost Marguitte. That’s when I started gambling.”

  I hissed out a breath and shook my head. Mathieu held up his hands in defeat. “I know,” he said. “But I was good and for a while there I managed to keep us afloat. Savannah had fallen in love and dreamed of getting married. I wanted her to have everything she wanted. I wanted my daughter to have the wedding of her dreams. Her beau was a man who could give us the stability we needed and get us out of the hole. I wanted that for h
er. The security.”

  It was just as I suspected. Savannah was just like Caroline. Marrying a man for what he could give her instead of for love. Mathieu said Savannah was in love but I knew that it was not the man she was in love with, but his bank account.

  “And then she fell pregnant and he shunned her. Abandoned her and little Archer before he was even born. She was heartbroken. It changed her. My little innocent girl was forced to grow up and face the harsh realities of life. The one bright spark was Archer. He brought such joy into her life and she worked her fingers to the bone in order to look after him. Then she got the call from the palace and now here we are. This job means everything to her. She works hard and I know the circumstances aren’t ideal, but she needs this job. We need her to keep this job. You can’t take it away from her. There is nothing else left for us.”

  I stood. “I’m taking Archer with me back to the stables,” I said. “You stay here and sober up. If you love your daughter so much then you need to stop. What if the game keeper found you or one of the palace security? You are in more danger of losing Savannah her job than I am. I’ll bring Archer back later and check on you. And I’ll be checking in on you daily. If you don’t want me to tell Savannah then you need to get your act together.”

  I turned and strode from the cabin wondering at myself for once more getting in the middle of Savannah’s mess.

  Savannah

  Alyssa was waiting for me in my office when I returned. I rolled my eyes and didn’t bother hiding it from her. She just grinned at me in response. Margaret refused to look at me but that was probably more to do with Alyssa being in the room than anything else. After two years living and working in the palace, Margaret was still intimidated in the queen’s presence.

  I flopped onto a chair and looked around the room. Margaret had tidied up, only leaving my desk and the immediate area around my desk untouched, as was our agreement. So much of my life had to be structured and organised—it was the only way to ensure that Papa and Archer were looked after and kept hidden while also keeping my job—but I needed one space where my true nature could break out uninhibited. Structure and organisation just weren’t my strong points and constantly living with such a rigid schedule was exhausting for me. Contrary to what ‘experts’ would have you believe, having a messy office actually relaxed me.