Merrick flipped back a few pages in his pad to his drawing of his recent trip to the orphanage—he’d embellished the sketch with snow forts and merriment, and even included some of the orphaned children he looked forward to visiting again. He’d loved seeing the mischief in their eyes during the snowball fight as they were allowed to run wild and free, and he hoped they wouldn’t soon forget it.
He longed to make the children smile again. Cassius too, like he did while chucking snow and on the ride home. Or to have another discussion regarding just about anything, since Cassius was smart and would offer a point of view he hadn’t quite considered. But he didn’t know how to break the ice between them again…to lessen the awkwardness.
He’d hoped maybe Geoffrey might be able to bridge that gap as he had when Cassius first began as his understudy, but the family had gotten word that Geoffrey’s illness had taken a turn for the worse, and given his age, it was best that he began his retirement now so he could make a full recovery. Merrick certainly couldn’t begrudge him that, not even if some days he wished he’d never laid eyes on the footman named Cassius or agreed to the promotion. Not because he disliked the footman turned valet, but because he felt so unsettled around the man.
Merrick’s fingers now moved in sweeping arcs as he sketched other parts of the familiar face he’d memorized from days of close proximity—his arching eyebrows, slightly crooked nose, chiseled jawline. He’d have Geoffrey’s likeness down too, if he ever chose to draw it.
When his mother rose to join him on the sofa, he hastily turned to a blank page, afraid she would ask to see some of his work. Then his gaze lifted to Harris, who had stepped inside the room to offer the family tea.
The topic of conversation had changed to the man courting Marjorie. Merrick’s sister was two years his junior, but she was considered in her prime to marry as well, given that childbearing years could be fleeting for some.
“When will you see him again?” his mother asked as Marjorie’s cheeks stained. Merrick had the urge to lean over and whisper something irreverent about Charles to make her blush even further, but he’d save it for when they were out of earshot of their parents. Merrick had seen Charles at several events, as he came with good standing. He’d found him polite and attractive, maybe slightly too proud for his tastes, but he wouldn’t share such a thing with Marjorie unless she asked.
“We’re to meet at his polo match next weekend. If you’d like to accompany me, you may,” she added, and her mother smiled at her in a knowing way. Marjorie would never make such a request unless she was interested. She’d been known to snub her nose at many suitors over the years.
“So,” his mother began, turning her affectionate gaze on him.
Merrick squirmed uncomfortably. He recognized that same tone of voice she used when she was about to discuss grandchildren or weddings or suitable ladies for him.
“We are considering organizing a masquerade dance in the east ballroom,” Merrick’s mother remarked, to his surprise. The castle boasted four such rooms for large events, and the east ballroom was his favorite because it faced the terrace and the stables.
“What sort of dance?” Marjorie asked before Merrick could squeak the question out. Her eyes flashed warily to his.
“A celebration of the winter solstice, of course,” she replied, motioning with her hands to show the grand scale of such an event.
The winter solstice was in two months’ time and one of the most important events in Evergreen, mainly because it marked the beginning of longer days in the sun. The wintry weather broke for a few weeks between April and June, lending to some warmer hours in the day, and the outdoor markets would be filled with fresh produce grown in greenhouses along the countryside. The less chilly weather also brought about the tourist season, since Evergreen prided itself on being one of the world’s greatest providers of gemstones, some of which could be found in vast caverns in the far reaches of the country. During the thaw, residents and visitors alike flocked to the thermal springs located in the hidden caves close to where the minerals were mined.
“But maybe also…a different way for Merrick to meet potential suitable matches.”
Merrick immediately tensed, the idea of a jubilant celebration with food and wine now making ice run through his veins.
“Mother,” Merrick said, grimacing. “I don’t know if…”
“Don’t look so dreary, my child. There’s bound to be a lady you fancy at the ball, unless you meet one sooner.”
“What if I don’t?” he asked through clenched teeth, shifting his art pad from his knees to his side, abandoning his drawing altogether.
“There are plenty of royalty members who’ve remained bachelors,” Marjorie butted in, giving her two cents, her eyes flashing at Merrick.
“Your brother is well aware of his duty,” his father suddenly spoke up from his desk, where he’d finally shut the large ledger he’d been eyeing. “It’s one thing to sow your wild oats and quite another to put off providing your family an heir.”
“I’m not putting it off, Father.” Merrick sighed and then sat up a little straighter. “Not everyone can achieve what you and Mother have. You were lucky.”
The siblings had heard the story countless times about how their parents had their marriage arranged but fell in love anyway, and Merrick couldn’t help feeling like it had somehow become the gold standard for royal unions. He would never in a million years achieve that because he could never be in love with a woman. But what did he know of love? He’d only ever experienced infatuation. The kind and decent thing was that the king and queen were allowing their children some say in the decision-making process—that is, as long as the suitors met certain criteria.
“You’ll be lucky too,” his mother remarked, patting his hand.
“What if he’s not?” Marjorie insisted, and Merrick tried to catch her eye to make her drop the topic. “What about the Duke of Lexington, for example?”
Merrick threw his sister a warning look as sweat broke out across his brow.
The Duke of Lexington had never married, and Merrick had seen him at the bathhouse on more than one occasion. Neither would ever reveal the other in royal company, but he hated that Marjorie was now bringing it up to try and make her argument. It wouldn’t fare well.
His father waved a dismissive hand. “You know as well as I do that the duke is sowing a different kind of oat—as some men do.”
Marjorie placed her hands on her hips. “I happen to believe people are born that way.”
“That might well be true,” his father conceded, and Merrick released the breath he was holding. “But were the duke next in line to rule a kingdom, such a thing would be unacceptable.”
Merrick found he couldn’t speak, let alone breathe very well; his pulse was battering so hard in his ears. What his father wasn’t saying was that such actions were not only considered unnatural, but also improper for someone of Merrick’s standing. Rules would always be different for him. And that seemed entirely incongruous to Merrick’s very nature. Even though he had little choice in the matter as far as his position was concerned, his leaning toward men was as innate to him as breathing.
Except in order for Evergreen to thrive, to remain prosperous and relevant in world matters, its citizens needed to produce future generations, something the newest chief consul seemed to fret about regularly. It was his job to keep the royal family informed of such concerns as heads of state, even though they did not hold positions in government.
“You know as well as we do, dear,” his mother added, “that an heir is absolutely required.”
Merrick sighed. It always came down to that. Producing an heir. The sole purpose of the royal family was to safeguard the sanctity of the monarchy…
“At this rate, Marjorie might arrive there long before me,” Merrick croaked out, finally finding his voice. “Which would be lovely—I’d like to dote on an adoring niece or nephew.”
“Do you not desire children of your own som
eday?” His mother’s concerned gaze fell on him like a looming shadow, and he wanted nothing more than for the conversation to finally end.
“Of course I do!” Merrick replied fervently and watched as his mother’s shoulders finally relaxed. “In fact, I wish more people considered adoption. Those children at the—”
“Your attachment to the orphanage has always been so admirable,” his mother interrupted, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s how I know you will make a good father someday.” She leaned toward him conspiratorially. “And a good husband.”
Merrick’s stomach churned, but he didn’t dare dispute his mother, not if he wanted to leave the conversation unscathed. He’d definitely have a word with Marjorie later. He knew her intentions were good, but soon enough, his parents were bound to become suspicious.
10
Cassius
Just one more story, Cas? Please, please, please!” his sister Elizabeth begged as she tugged on his sleeve. Her voice turned his heart to mush as it always did, but he had already told three stories, and he didn’t have much time remaining. He had to make the journey back to the castle soon. The last train of the day wasn’t far off.
“I—”
“Please, Cas?” Elizabeth begged again, and he knew that no matter what, he would tell one more story. He couldn’t deny her, nor did he want to.
“Fine, just one more. Then I must be on my way.” He looked at his other sister, Emily, who sat by the fire, knitting. She’d been quiet this visit, Cassius noticed, not her usual jubilant self. His stomach twisted uncomfortably. He hated the thought of Emily losing any of her fire, but feared she would all the same.
Em had always been closer to their father than she was anyone else. She’d loved the man and wanted to be just like him. His death, no doubt, hit her the hardest. Outside of their father, she’d always clung to Cassius. They were similar, he and she. His leaving to work at the castle had been hard on her, but she’d been okay because she’d had a father, and now…now she did not.
“What kind of story would you like to hear, Em?” he asked, hoping to coax his curly haired, spitfire of a sister from her shell.
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever Elizabeth would like.”
Cas frowned, eyes pinned firmly on his sister, who shared his honey-colored gaze, silently begging her to look at him. When she didn’t, he glanced toward their mother, who sat in her wheelchair by the small kitchen table with the loose leg. He’d meant to fix that last time he’d come home but had forgotten. He insisted they leave the harder chores for him when he was home, such as cutting wood, but sometimes it was impossible, and Emily took over.
His mother gave him a sad smile that told Cas she knew Em was struggling and what that knowledge did to him.
“Are you sure?” he asked Em, but she only shook her head in reply and continued with her scarf. Cas sighed, trying to slip a facade into place so as not to worry Elizabeth. “What would you like to hear a story about, little one?” He tickled her stomach. The sound of her giggles soothed some of the ache in his chest.
“Um…” Elizabeth tapped her temple with a finger, and Cas couldn’t help but laugh at her. Both his sisters were such wild, free spirits. Much more so than Cassius himself had ever been. The closest he came to their lively, fanciful thoughts were his ridiculous dreams of writing and telling stories.
“I would like a story about a prince,” Elizabeth answered. “A kind prince. One who is very handsome, and funny, and doesn’t have a stick in his bum.”
“Elizabeth!” their mother chastised, and Cas noticed Em biting her cheek so she didn’t smile. “Where did you hear such a thing?”
“From Emily,” she replied.
“I didn’t say she had to repeat it!” Emily replied in her own defense, and again, Cas’s stomach tensed uncomfortably.
“Why would you say such a thing? It’s incredibly improper to speak such things about the royal family. Can you imagine if anyone heard? Cassius works for them. It’s because of the king of Evergreen that we have food in our stomachs this very moment!” His mother wrung her hands together, obviously distressed.
“I didn’t say it was about any of the Davendalls. It was a jest, but apparently a bad one. I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll go lie down.” Em pushed to her feet.
Cassius reached for her when she walked past him. “Wait, please. I must leave soon. I’d like to spend as much time with you as possible.”
Emily stopped. Her eyes snagged Cas’s, and he saw the pain there, the ache that matched what was in his heart. Her hand trembled. He thought she would hug him then. That she would sit beside them on the sofa and tease Cas the way she often did, but instead, she jerked her hand away and stomped toward the bedroom she shared with Elizabeth. She slammed the door with such strength that the last family picture they’d taken together shook.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make Emily upset.” Elizabeth snuggled into his side. Cassius leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
“It’s okay, little one. We all get snippy when we’re ill. Em will be better after she rests.” There wasn’t a part of Cassius that believed that. Emily was angry, sad, and most of that anger was directed at him. What he didn’t know was why. Because she felt he had abandoned her, perhaps?
Cas cleared this throat. “What of that story now? You wanted a kind, handsome prince, right? Let me see what I can think of…” Prince Merrick’s face flashed in his mind. The cinnamon color of his hair and the dark coffee of his eyes. The small mole Cassius had noticed by his left eye, and the curve of his infectious smile.
Apparently, his plan to lie with someone else hadn’t helped. He’d made a brief stop at the inn on his way home to ease his desires, and it had been good, but obviously not good enough to keep impure thoughts of the prince at bay.
“Cas?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, sorry. I was thinking. You can’t rush a genius storyteller, remember?”
Both Elizabeth and his mother chuckled at his joke before Cassius launched into a story about a prince with an honest smile and gentle nature, and a snowball fight with joyful children, including two young ladies named Elizabeth and Emily.
When he finished, Elizabeth clapped and hugged him before she said, “I loved it, but a prince would never have a snowball fight with me and Em.”
His chest tightened, and his fingers itched. “How do you know?” Ridiculously, he found himself wondering if Prince Merrick would. If he would treat his sisters as well as he had treated the children at the orphanage. They were foolish thoughts that Cassius had no business entertaining, so he shook them from his head.
“Are they nice? The Davendalls? I hope they’re nice to you, sweet brother.” Elizabeth hugged him tighter, and Cas closed his eyes, wishing things were easier.
“They are, little one. If I can’t be here with you, Em, and Mother, it is the next best thing,” he lied, then felt slightly guilty for thinking of it as a lie. Prince Merrick had been nothing but kind to him; the entire family had, but that didn’t mean Cassius didn’t resent them for what they had and his family did not.
“Why don’t you go play while I talk to Mother? You can play in my room if you’d like, so you don’t disturb Em.”
Elizabeth’s eyes went wide. “Thank you, Cas. I love you!” With one more hug, his sister bounded away. Cassius took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself and bring some clarity to what had just happened.
He stood and a few steps later was at the table. The moment he sat, his mother said, “She’ll be okay. She misses her father and her brother. You know how Emily is—she’s always been made of fire, just like someone else I know.” Her brows rose, and Cas knew she meant him. “She loves deeply, hurts deeply, and angers easily, but she will be okay.”
Cassius understood because he often felt the same. He looked down and noticed a small hole in his mother’s blouse. “I feel as if I’m letting her down. As if I should be here with her…with you.” It wasn’t fair that
they had to live on their own, without Cas or his father. Much of the care went to Emily as the eldest after Cas. He felt as if he should be bearing the weight.
“You’re doing no such thing. If it weren’t for you…” She shook her head. “I do not know what we would do if it weren’t for you. You are our sun, our light, like always, and don’t you dare think anything different. You’re doing what you must. I know that, Elizabeth knows it, and Emily knows too. We are so lucky to have you.”
Cassius nodded before he knelt beside his mother and hugged her. “I will make you proud, and I promise I’ll always provide for you, no matter what I have to do.” No matter what he had to lose—his dreams, his happiness. He could not be with a man—at least not openly—while employed by the royal family. Because the rules for royals were much stricter, they were also more careful in who they employed. If a commoner such as him risked being shunned for favoring men, he could only imagine how it would look for the Davendalls.
“Shush, you.” She kissed his head. “No talk like that. We’re all fine, and we’re already proud of you. Valet to Prince Merrick! Imagine that. Your father would be so proud.”
But Cassius didn’t feel proud, not at all.
He and his mother spoke for a few more minutes before he went into Emily’s room. His sister slept curled up on her side, her blanket pulled tight around her and a soft smile on her lips. She looked happy…peaceful. Too peaceful for Cassius to wake her, so he kissed her forehead and laid a letter for her on the table. He always wrote her a letter before he left, even when they were on better terms. He wrote back and forth with his whole family while he was away as well, but the goodbye notes were something special he shared with Emily and Emily alone.
Ever After (Forbidden Love #1) Page 6
