by Geneva Lee
“What do you want to know?” I asked, sinking onto the bench at the foot of my bed. “There are a lot of rumors.”
“Does he really forbid you from going out?” she asked.
I blinked rapidly trying to process the question. Why would she ask me that? We’d talked about this on a number of occasions. She’d seen him tell me I needed to stay in or take a security team. They’d both been there when my life had been threatened. “Only some of the time when there’s a security threat.”
Edward’s gaze darted towards her.
“He has a right to be concerned,” I said. But even I could hear the excuses I was making for him. I’d had the same argument with Alexander. Now I was defending him.
“Honestly, I don’t know how to be a queen. That’s the problem.”
“I think it’s more likely that my brother doesn’t know how to be a king,” Edward said quietly.
It surprised me to hear him say it. Alexander gave off a firm, unyielding confidence that most people responded to. I thought I had been the only one to see the struggle underneath the bravado he wore for the world. Maybe I wasn’t.
“He doesn’t lock himself up,” Belle pointed out, “and there has to be at least as much of a chance of something happening to him.”
I’d used this argument with Alexander before. It sounded even more reasonable coming from her.
“I’m going to Silverstone without him.” It was something—a life raft. Had they forgotten that?
“Are you?” Edward asked.
“What does that mean?” I asked darkly.
He released a heavy sigh that sounded like pent-up frustration. “Have you been online today?”
“No.” I didn’t wait for him to deliver the bad news. He’d come here for a reason. My heart sped up as I went to my bedside table and lifted my phone from the charger. There had been a lot to do. Preparing myself and Elizabeth to be gone for a week had taken my full attention.
“What’s going on?” Belle asked. She’d arrived early this morning and we’d been at it all day.
“Maybe I should just tell you,” Edward said, but I’d already opened my YouGram discovery feed. If the royal family was in the news, it would be there. I didn’t even have to scroll down before I found exactly what he was talking about.
Another room in the castle is set to be filled later this year. Buckingham Palace announced earlier this morning that the King and Queen are expecting their second child. The Queen, who has been suffering from unusually difficult morning sickness, plans to host the Sovereign Games, which begin later this month. The palace said it was unclear whether Clara’s condition would prevent her from fulfilling her duties as host.
I looked up and found Belle gawking at her own phone. At least I didn’t have to fill her in on the news.
“You’re right,” I said to both of them, my voice deadly calm, “my marriage is in trouble.”
* * *
Alexander was in trouble.
I read through a dozen more stories before I interrogated Edward about everything he knew, which wasn’t much. He’d come over expecting to celebrate, not deliver bad news. It was no wonder he’d looked so guilty when he’d first shown up. He’d had to decide whether or not to tell me himself.
Norris stood from his seat outside Alexander’s office when I flew around the corner. Folding his newspaper, he dropped it and smiled. “Clara, he’s in with the Minister of—”
“I don’t care,” I said, walking straight past him and into my husband’s office.
Alexander was mid-sentence but the words died on his lips, the moment I blew into the room. “Clara.”
“Don’t Clara me,” I warned him.
“Would you excuse us for a moment?” he asked the man sitting opposite him. The gentleman, who’d been watching us both with wary eyes, stood, offered me a small bow, and hurried out of the office like his life depended on it. My husband needed to develop a similar sense of self-preservation.
“You announced my pregnancy,” I accused him.
“It was a decision based on increasing media speculation. We needed to get ahead of the story. I had—”
“Don’t give me that. Don’t tell me you were trying to stop it from leaking to the press. Don’t lie to me.” I couldn’t believe he would try this tactic. Even if it were true, even if the tabloids had somehow found out, there was no way he could justify this.
“I made a decision.” He spread his hands on the desk. My eyes darted to a small paperweight, and I saw his throat slide. He picked it up and stuck it in a drawer.
“I’m leaving.” It was a low blow—forgetting to add that I would be coming back. But it was worth the panic on his face, even if my satisfaction was only temporary.
“Clara, I—”
“I’m going to Silverstone today,” I reminded him. “While you may not think what I’m doing is important, it’s important to me, X. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go finish packing. It seems I no longer have to worry about hiding my bump.”
Alexander leapt to his feet and started around the desk, but I held up a hand.
“I wouldn’t come any closer than that,” I warned him. “I’ll see you in a little over a week.”
“But I was planning—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You’re not coming. You can keep trying to take this away from me, but I won’t let you.”
He looked hurt. Good. I wanted him to feel as helpless as I did. “I don’t want to take anything from you, Clara. I want to protect you.”
“From what?” I didn’t look back as I opened the door and stepped through, leaving him behind. “You?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CLARA
The atmosphere at Silverstone was festive. I felt anything but. Unsurprisingly, the family had a house not far from the track. No one had visited it in years, but, like the other properties the Royals seemed to hoard, it was maintained and fit to house a small army.
It was a good thing, too, because every hotel and inn nearby had filled up within hours of the event’s announcement. Any worry we’d waited too long or that no one would be interested was unfounded—if only everything else in my life was going so smoothly.
I hadn’t spoken to Alexander since I’d left London. The last time we had gone this long without talking I’d been in a coma. Other than one text to let him know I’d safely arrived—his least favorite form of communication—I’d handed over updates to Brex. For once, I was glad he and Georgia were assigned to me. Norris had a frustrating habit of helping me see Alexander’s side, and right now, I wasn’t interested in psychoanalyzing my husband. I was more than happy to stay mad at him. He needed to sweat this out. What he’d done…I couldn’t even let myself think about it without worrying what I’d do.
Plus, there was too much to do before the opening ceremonies to waste energy on it. I had my hands full. Elizabeth was with me, so when I wasn’t going over my ceremonial duties or answering questions or preparing speeches, I was with her. It made me feel centered to have her there. It felt less like I’d left my heart behind in London.
When I popped my head into our temporary nursery, I found Elizabeth blinking wonderingly at me from her crib. She held her arms out, her lower lip beginning to tremble. For a terrible second, I saw everything through Elizabeth’s tear-stained eyes. Daddy was the one who went to her every morning. He changed her diapers and got her dressed. No matter how busy he was, Alexander never failed his daughter—and I had taken him away from her.
“Oh, sweetie, it’s only a few days,” I soothed her, kissing her curly head. She nuzzled against me, and I held her closely. She was proof that beautiful things came out of messy situations. “Let’s go find Penny.”
It took me longer to find the nanny than I expected, mostly because she was clinging to a toilet in the bathroom.
She looked up at me with watering eyes. “I told you the fish tasted off.”
“Oh, Penny!” I guessed it was a good thing that I’d had no real
appetite for a few days. I’d picked at my dinner the night before, forcing down some bread. It was always harder for me to eat when I was stressed. Morning sickness didn’t help. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, ma’am.” She tore off a bit of toilet paper and wiped her mouth. “Give me a moment and I’ll be in to see to Elizabeth.”
“I’ll take Elizabeth,” I said firmly. “You rest.”
She opened her mouth to object and then clamped it shut frantically. A moment later, she lost her argument along with another round to the toilet.
I brought her a seltzer water from the fridge and then considered my options. There was too much for me to do to stay here. I would take Elizabeth with me. It took a few minutes to bundle her up in enough layers to keep her warm. In the end, she looked as squishy as a marshmallow and just as sweet. I took a picture to send Alexander, but then thought better of it.
I could only imagine what he would say if he saw me packing up Elizabeth’s diaper bag and preparing to take her down to a racetrack. He’d hear about it, though. There was no way the press wouldn’t have a field day with this. I had no doubt the same gossip rags that called me out for attending events without my daughter would declare me a terrible mother for bringing her with me. I was always damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.
Georgia, who was waiting in the sitting room, furrowed her brow when she saw Elizabeth.
“Oh good, take her,” I thrust my daughter into her arms and rushed to the kitchen for her sippy cup. I returned to find Georgia holding her under the arms and, keeping her far away from her body. She stared at Elizabeth like she was a rattlesnake. Elizabeth let out a screech and kicked her feet.
“I think she’s broken,” Georgia called over, a frantic edge in her voice. It was almost funny, except I seriously wondered if she was going to drop her and run for it.
“Okay.” I held out my hands and she deposited Elizabeth back into them with a grateful sigh. “Don’t like kids, huh?”
A shadow passed over her face, but she shook her head and smirked. “All they do is spew bodily fluids. What’s there to like?”
“I take it Smith won’t be making you a godmother,” I muttered, arranging Elizabeth on my hip and shouldering my bag. I usually had more help. If Alexander wasn’t with me, the members of our household staff were, or I had a pram. Norris had no issue helping with Elizabeth. He was practically her grandpa. Georgia was clearly the least valuable player when it came to childcare assistance.
“I love that you think he’d want her to have a godmother.” She snorted as if this thought was ludicrous. “Besides, I’m sure Belle will choose you. Who can compete with the Queen for that spot?” She snagged the bag from my shoulder and hooked it over hers.
“Thanks,” I said gratefully.
“You look like you had your hands full, and my job is to be useful.” It was just like Georgia to remind me that she wasn’t doing something out of the goodness of her heart. She paused when we reached the front door. “Does Alexander know Elizabeth is coming?”
“He will.” I left it at that. I had no doubt he would be getting a briefing on my every movement—probably on the hour.
“Let me rephrase that,” she said. “Did you tell him that Elizabeth was coming?”
My lips thinned into a line. It wasn’t her concern. “I don’t tell my husband everything.”
“You really should’ve taken my advice,” she whispered. “I told you he has certain needs.”
“Maybe he did,” I said, “but people change.”
She didn’t respond. She didn’t have to, because smug was written all over her face. Let her think what she wanted. That wasn’t my husband’s problem.
Our conversation fell away as we trudged out into the cold February morning. My heart pounded as I tried to ignore what Georgia had said. Every time I thought I might be able to stand Georgia Kincaid, she reminded me why I hated her in the first place. Brexton and several others had the cars ready and warmed up, but he did a double take when he saw I had Elizabeth with me.
“Do you need to call him and tattle on me?” I snapped as he opened the door.
“He told me you could handle things,” Brex said smoothly.
I doubted Brex believed that. Elizabeth’s child-seat was still in the vehicle, thankfully, so I buckled her in and carefully arranged the straps around her coat. Brex opened the other door and doublechecked my work.
“Did he tell you to make sure I knew how to put our child in her seat properly?” I asked coldly. It was going to be a long day if everyone treated me like I didn’t know how to be a mother.
He sighed and straightened up. I did the same, glaring at him over the roof of the Range Rover.
“It sucks being between you two all the time,” he said. Then he stomped around to the driver’s side.
I wasn’t being fair. It wasn’t Brexton’s fault Alexander was being unreasonable. He hadn’t been the one to spill the news of my pregnancy to the press. That had been my husband. The trouble was that my husband wasn’t here, and I was angry. Between Alexander’s actions, Georgia’s words, and his hovering over me like a mother hen, I was left to wonder if anyone thought I was competent as a wife, a mother, or a queen. Heat prickled in my eyes and I blinked back angry tears. I wasn’t about to let any of them see me cry. That would definitely get back to Alexander.
We rode the few miles to Silverstone in stony silence. I turned Georgia’s words over and over in my head. Was she right? Did Alexander treat me like a fragile creature because he didn’t see how strong I was? Our sex life had always been brutal and passionate. I didn’t see that there was anything lacking. But I knew submission wasn’t about sex. It was about control—me giving it to him. I enjoyed playing. I enjoyed it when he tied me up or spanked me. But I told him once that I’d never be able to give him complete power over my body. Hadn’t I, though? I trusted him no matter how hard he pushed me. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d used my safe word. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I’d kept the one thing away from him that he needed to soothe the beast inside.
I didn’t have longer to consider it before we arrived. Brexton turned out to be more helpful than Georgia in the baby department. He gathered Elizabeth from her seat, helped make certain I had everything I would need, and carried her inside.
“There she is,” Henry said, darting over when he spotted me. His eyes lingered momentarily on Elizabeth.
“I got her,” Brex said. “You do your thing.”
I was grateful for the help, until it occurred to me Brex might have seen holding Elizabeth as a security precaution. It was easier to keep Elizabeth safe if he had hold of her. Had there been some other threat? Maybe it had been a mistake to bring my daughter here, and that was why he was sticking close. They probably all thought I was the worst mother in the world. I fell into the fear spiral so quickly that it took physical effort to shake it off. It didn’t matter why he was doing it. I couldn’t see every situation as dangerous or every helpful gesture as having a hidden motivation.
Brex kept her most of the day, finding me for nappy changes and crying fits only a mother could soothe. We’d adopted a disused office as my temporary headquarters. We needed a place where I could close a door and shut off the fumes from the cars. Brex set up a small playland in the corner on a blanket, producing a surprising number of toys to keep her occupied. I definitely hadn’t packed that many into the diaper bag. I decided to go with it.
When Anderson Stone showed up at noon to go over his schedule, he bypassed me and went straight to Elizabeth.
“There’s a photo opportunity,” Henry said as we watched Anderson drop down next to her on her blanket and start playing blocks.
“We’re not using my baby as a photo op.” I couldn’t imagine what Alexander would say if that showed up in his newsfeed in the morning.
“It’s probably for the best,” Henry said with a sigh. “We’d have uncontrollable swarms of women here as soon as they saw it.”
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I suspected we would be dealing with that anyway. Anderson looked up at me and winked. I grinned. I couldn’t help it. Did he just go around oozing sex appeal and charming women and children? He probably wasn’t lonely often. Still, I couldn’t imagine being involved with a man who flew around the racetrack in a metal cage at a million miles an hour. I walked over to them, leaving Henry to sort out the latest scheduling crisis.
“She likes you,” I said, watching as Elizabeth thrust a block at him with a chubby hand.
“All the ladies do,” he said. He put it on the stack they were working on and Elizabeth clapped.
“Well, she is easy to impress,” I said dryly.
“That was harsh, but it’s always good to keep a man’s ego in check,” he admitted with a laugh.
Elizabeth’s arms flailed, catching the tower and sending it toppling to ruins. Her head fell back and she wailed. I rushed to her, not wanting to interrupt the number of people trying to get their jobs done, but Anderson was quicker. He plucked her off the blanket. Rolling onto his back he held her in the air. “How about we go for a fly, beautiful girl?”
Giggles instantly replaced tears. My heart did a strange little flip at the sight of him zooming her around the air. I could almost see Alexander doing the same thing, except he wasn’t here to make his daughter laugh. But her giggles were infectious and I smiled despite the heaviness in my heart. The moment I did, I felt guilty. The feeling settled into my stomach and grew roots there. I didn’t know this man. Why was I comparing him to my husband? Because Anderson was here and Alexander wasn’t? Alexander blew raspberries on Elizabeth’s tummy and wiped away tears and rocked her to sleep—it wasn’t like he was an absentee father. He’d been preoccupied for the last couple of weeks. But what would happen when we had another baby to draw our attention away?
