A Royal Wedding: The Royals Series

by Brown, Tara

  “Dying inside,” I admitted something I hadn’t said to a single person beyond Hattie. “Slowly. My heart is crushed and I may never recover.” And the weirdly rushed sex hadn’t improved that.

  “What is it you Americans always say? Don't sugarcoat it on my account.” He chuckled.

  “It’s bad, Lucas. I still love him.” The words tried to choke me but I pushed through. “And I don't know how to get over it. And his family makes it all worse.” I nearly spilled my secret. “It’s exactly what you said that one time. The idea of never seeing him again chokes the air from my lungs.”

  “I’m really sorry, Fin. As much as I wanted to hang some hopes on what the media was saying and you were indeed single, I would never wish this pain for you.”

  “Thanks.” I sighed and tried to avoid the emotions that were stifling me. “How’s the job?”

  “Good. I love it. I’m happy and feel the life of a barrister is the right one. It’s interesting working with the high courts.”

  “How’s your love life?” I hoped he was seeing someone.

  “Could be better. I was seeing someone for a couple of months, don't be jealous. She didn't steal all my breath,” he chided but the words had stuck with me all these years later. “But it was not meant to be.”

  “That’s sucky,” I said with a sigh. “Guess we’re in the same boat.”

  “No, we’re not.” His eyes met mine again. “I couldn't be with her because I heard you were single and that consumed me.”

  “Oh.” How the hell did I respond to that?

  “And I’m not sorry for being forward, Fin. I think about you all the time. And when you’re ready, I will be here.”

  “Lucas—”

  “I expect nothing and hope for everything. And I know, you need to heal first. So work on that and I’ll be here for you. As your friend. Until you’re ready to admit you find me sexy.” He smiled bashfully, working that dimple and a little Scottish.

  “Stop!” I shoved him. “I don't want anything but friendships from anyone. But I will take you up on that. I can always use a friend.”

  “I’ll drop you first, Miss Finley.” Samere glanced back, perhaps sensing my discomfort.

  “Perfect, thanks.”

  He turned off Cromwell to head into Kensington and drop me off.

  “This is you?” Lucas asked.

  “It is.” I glanced up at the red brick building.

  “Across from Hyde Park, nice.”

  “It’s a good building and our flat’s been renovated so it’s modern. No weird dankness.” I gathered my purse.

  “When are you back in Scotland?”

  “Day after tomorrow. I’m just here to get my things. I have to TA this semester and Linna, Jess, and I are moving into our own townhouse this year. No dorms. Except Jess broke her ankle back home and Linna is touring a budding relationship with some soc—football star, so the move will be all me, I’m afraid.” I sighed, already exhausted by everything I’d have to do in the next couple of days.

  “That sounds busy.” He scowled. “Can we do dinner tomorrow night before you go?”

  “No,” I answered quickly. “I’m booked solid for the next two weeks. Maybe next time I’m in town.”

  “Or perhaps I’ll happen upon your part of the world sooner than later.” That was a promise, I could see it in his eyes.

  “That would be great,” I said as Samere parked the car. “Lovely seeing you.” I leaned in and hugged him, but he placed a kiss on my cheek.

  “I’m here for you. If you need me, I’ll drop everything,” he whispered, holding me tightly to him.

  “Thanks.” I pulled back, trying to ignore the way he smelled. It triggered my battered heart. “See you in a couple of days, Samere.” I climbed out and hugged him. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Of course.” He hugged woodenly. Clearly, he and Tracy had the same training.

  I couldn't get away from the car fast enough. I’d held the despair and emotions tightly inside, but the dam was about to burst. By the time I got upstairs and in the flat, I had lost it. I crumpled onto the floor and sobbed, victimized by the wounds that had been reopened.

  I was such a fool.

  Through the tears, I pulled out my phone and checked again, but nothing.

  He hadn’t called. Or texted.

  I really was stupid.

  6

  The hardest part about being friends with someone you’re attracted to is the what-if. It’s a sneaky little monster that blinds you to all the bad qualities in a person, just in case.

  Old dogs and new tricks

  “Have you seen any ghosts yet, Fin?” Lucas asked as he carried the last box to the door for the movers. He’d come by in the morning and insisted on helping me, which at first I hadn’t wanted, but the help was nice and the company had been exactly what he promised. Just friends. Nothing weird.

  “Ghosts?” I lifted an eyebrow. “Here?”

  “No, in Scotland.” He laughed.

  “Oh, you mean the famous St Andrews ghosts?” The question made me laugh with him. “No. But I’ve been smart and showed up for the five a.m. swim in the sea every May, just in case.” I’d never been superstitious like I was in St Andrews.

  “Five a.m. swim?” He leaned on a box, his puzzled brow drawing in. “What’s that?”

  “Apparently, it wards off bad luck. The swim protects you all year long and helps you not see the crazy shit like that freaking disfigured nun.”

  “Disfigured nun?” He wrinkled his nose.

  “You haven’t heard of it? I can’t believe I know of a Scottish ghost you don’t. She’s famous.” I folded my arms and continued, “A woman was devastated at the loss of her love. She disfigured herself and showed up at a convent to ‘take the black,’ so to speak. She died of her injuries and now roams St Andrews as a ghost, lifting her veil and revealing her terribly disfigured face to students and tourists. I know a couple who saw her and they were both messed up.”

  “Ghastly.”

  “I know, right? Linna says most are drunken tales, but I think there’s something to it. Linna likes to act like she isn’t impressed with the story, but she’s terrified of nuns. She had a dream once about them floating in a horde, coming at her. She’s never recovered. So when anyone brings up the nun, she waves it off.”

  “Leave it to Linna to ruin the story.” Lucas laughed. “I did hear something about the burning man—Patrick Hamilton? That you can smell the burning flesh?” he asked as he lifted his beer from the coffee table, taking a gulp. “Poor bloke burned all day they say.”

  “I’ve heard of it but again, never saw him or smelled the flesh. One of the TAs in second year told me it was cold the day he died, apparently. Hard for the guards to keep the fires going so he burned on the pyre for hours.” I shuddered. “It’s a gross story, but the one that freaks me out is the white lady at St Rule’s Tower.” Even saying her name made me shiver with spookiness. “Not only has everyone seen her, but not too long ago someone found a tomb where she haunts, with a casket and a preserved lady in a white dress. It’s too much. I haven’t walked near the tower since I heard that one.”

  “That is horrifying.” He shook his head. “We have a few in my hometown but none as scary as that.”

  “They’re not all scary.” I pointed. “There’s a friendly monk who helps people on the stairs at St Rule. Obviously, I’ll never see him because of the creepy white lady. But I’ve heard that the monk offers people assistance on the stairs.”

  “I would fall down the stairs and die if a ghost asked me that.” He took another drink. “So to prevent being scared of these ghosties, you swim at five in the morning in May? Which is a cold time of year to be in the ocean that far north.”

  “Yup. I cover my bases. Do you have any idea what seeing some sheathed white lady would do to me?” I leaned against the sofa and fought another shiver. “Anyway, back to the packing. Was that the last box?”

  “Indeed, milady. The a
partment is packed. Time to eat. There’s a kabab stand down the road. Want to get one and eat in the park?” he asked.

  “I do.” I followed him out, putting on my baseball cap and sunglasses.

  “Right, forgot you’re Carmen Sandiego.” He chuckled.

  “Wasn’t she a thief?” I recalled the cartoon from when I was little. Jess had been crazy about it.

  “Indeed, but she used her powers for good.” He started down the stairs, making me glad to be wearing runners. “Now, are you going to level with me on what happened with the handsome prince? As far as I heard last, you two were as good as engaged.”

  “There’s nothing to tell. It’s not an exciting story.”

  “Surely there’s something.”

  “When we met, he was just a guy and he didn't have all the responsibilities. So it was easy to be with him, knowing his life was still his own in some ways.” My voice drifted off as I recalled that first few months. The idea of a prince was sort of neat and fun and cool.

  “Ah yes.” He nodded like he remembered something. “He had an older brother. The one who died. So you thought the older brother would have this life, and you and Aiden might have a watered-down version that was perfectly tolerable.”

  “Yeah.” I laughed at his description. “And then he took over where his brother left off, and I went back to university and we drifted apart. We saw each other a few times a year, for years.”

  “That’s hard at the start of any relationship, let alone adding so many rules.”

  “Exactly. And as he got busier and got stalked more, and our phone calls were always cut short, we fell apart.” None of which was a lie, though it wasn’t the reason we broke up.

  “Drifted apart but your heart is so broken you can’t breathe?” He glanced back up at me.

  “Well, he was the one who ended it.”

  He paused, staring at me. “You’ve been slaughtered in the papers for breaking the poor bloke’s heart.”

  “My heart,” I muttered. “He broke mine. I thought we could get through anything.” It was the first time I’d admitted it aloud and somehow it made the pain worse, not lighter.

  “Ahhh.” He continued walking and opened the door to the building, holding it for me. “And what makes you think it’s over? I mean, you just went home to see him for the funeral. Surely, that’s a sign you still love him. Did he not see it as that?” He was fully prying.

  “He barely spoke to me at all. It was awkward”—also not a lie—“and hasn’t tried to get ahold of me since he broke things off.”

  “Not even one ‘you up?’ text message?” he joked as if he noticed I needed this to lighten up.

  “Not one. Not even a single ‘hey, did I leave my scarf at your house?’ Nothing.”

  “Well, that’s pretty bad. I mean, even my ex did the scarf thing at least once.” Lucas sighed. “I’m afraid it’s over, mate, and your chances of being a princess have gone with it. Unless you can find one of the other royals to date.” He nudged me lightly.

  “If I never see the inside of a palace again, it will be too soon. Do you have any idea what it’s like being me?” I sounded as exhausted as I was.

  “After the narrow escape we made from the airport, I’m going to guess active. You must be in great shape.” Lucas grinned at his own joke.

  “I can run like the wind.” I scoffed. “I’m up to ten kilometers in fifty-one minutes. On flat land.”

  “That’s impressive. The stalkers are good for heart health.” He laughed.

  “It is impressive. I feel good about my running,” I admitted. “It might be the one thing I feel good about right now.” It was a strange confession to offer.

  “What about school? Yesterday you sounded like you had a plan.”

  “I guess. I do feel good about that. My professor for international studies really thinks I should pursue law. I’m thinking about it. I don’t know if I want to jump into a program right now though.” The idea of more school was daunting. I’d been in it since I was five and was ready for a break.

  “Gonna coast a bit on your riches.”

  “Oh, you know it.” I rolled my eyes, but he couldn’t see through the wide sunglasses.

  “Well, have a seat, princess, and I’ll get us some dinner.” He pointed at the picnic-style tables out front of the cute little kabab stand.

  “Okay, thanks.” I sat and pulled my phone out. Still no texts from him.

  The thought that he might have used me for sex tiptoed through my mind.

  Was Aiden capable of something like that?

  I didn’t think so. At least before I would have said no. Now, I wasn’t so sure and it was killing me.

  7

  Roommates are the true test of whether you’re loveable as a human or not. They’re also the test of whether you have the capability to commit savage crimes against others. Particularly where leftovers are concerned.

  The gang’s all here

  September

  “Tell me everything!” Linna entered the living room and jumped on the couch of our new townhouse in St Andrews, attacking Jess with a prying stare. “Leave nothing out.” Linna had just arrived home after spending a week in Manchester to hang out with Riley. She’d missed Jess’ arrival along with the detail-less tale of how she and Johan had patched things up. It wasn't nearly as interesting as we’d all hoped it might be. The ankle had killed the pizzazz. In fact, the ankle had been quite the bother since she’d arrived two days ago. I’d been helping her get upstairs and fetching everything for her. I was her little slave. At least with Linna arriving, I wouldn’t be alone in it.

  “I don't know, there’s nothing to tell. Johan surprised me with a visit, and we spent three days watching The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings and eating chocolate-covered jujubes and eventually”—Jess paused, doing her Jess thing—“we made up.” She blushed and lowered her gaze, hiding her face.

  “Was it awkward making up with the cast?” I asked with a grin, fully aware of how she avoided all sex talk. She was worse than I was.

  “Yeah.” She laughed. “It was actually.”

  “Weird.” Linna narrowed her gaze suspiciously. “You answered a sex question. Does this mean the apocalypse is on us?”

  “Definitely,” I agreed.

  “Oh, don't you ‘definitely’ me. You are still in shit. I know you hooked up with Aiden in Andorra and you’re lying about it, and I want to know why and how and why?” Linna pointed a long pink fingernail at me. Her summer manicure was still bright and glossy. “Mary said you ran off during dinner and Aiden caught you and that was the last anyone saw of you. Then the next thing I know, you’re not answering calls or texts. I traced you and you were back in bloody London where the rag magazines caught you with none other than Lucas Reid, kissing in the backseat of the car. You’ve avoided the questions long enough, bish. Spill!”

  “First of all”—I pulled out my laptop and opened it, pretending to be reviewing the workload from hell that McNeill had given me—“that isn’t what happened. I never kissed Lucas. He kissed my cheek goodbye. Because he’s my friend and he’s Scottish and he was being polite. And then he came and helped me move, when you two slackers didn’t. And he even bought me a kabab afterward. So we’re not vilifying him with the rag magazines.”

  “Gee, could it be that he wants in your pants?” Linna asked rudely. “But you know what? I don’t even care about him. Forget Lucas for a minute. How could you hook up with Aiden?” She launched the attack I’d anticipated. I’d avoided everyone’s calls and texts and offered nothing but minimal answers all because I knew this would happen. Linna and Jess would be disappointed while Bea, Dee, and Mary would be hopeful.

  “It was nothing.” I prayed we could drop this.

  “It’s never nothing with Aiden!” She gasped. “You’ve been a mess for months. Why would you let him use you like that?”

  “It wasn't like that!”

  “Okay wait. I’m lost. I saw the Lucas Reid thing, but I didn't know
about you and Aiden.” Jess wrinkled her nose. “You didn't say anything.” She sounded hurt.

  “I didn't want this.” I held my hands out. “It’s confusing enough without us all rehashing shit.”

  “Is this why you’ve been avoiding the phone and everyone? I figured you were just suffering from seeing Aiden again. Not from being with him again.” Jess was visibly disappointed in me.

  “I was. I still am. And the Lucas Reid thing was nothing.” I hit Linna in the leg. “Stop reading the headlines.”

  “Jesus, Fin. Don't tell Johan about Aiden, or Lucas. We don't need to get sucked back into your drama. We’re barely seeing each other.” Jess ended the sentence as a knock at the door interrupted us.

  “Forty bucks says that’s Johan, and you’re totally seeing each other again.” Linna rolled her eyes and jumped up to get the door on the floor below. “This conversation isn’t over.” Our housing situation was different this year. No dorms. No guards. No one but us three. We liked living with Mary and Bea in Sallies, but with Aiden and I unsure where our relationship had landed, the townhouse seemed to be the safer option. Safer since I wouldn't run into him or the queen if they came to see Mary.

  And we were only a couple of blocks from campus, in a stunning townhouse that had been redone. It had tons of room and bathrooms. Not that all the space was great for Jess now. Getting her up the two flights of stairs hadn’t been amazing. Maybe, if we were lucky, her dating Johan again meant moving her ass up and down would be more his job than ours.

  And just as Linna had predicted, Johan came up the stairs with a large bouquet of wildflowers, a bottle of prosecco, and a smile so wide I couldn't help but smile back. “Hey!” his eyes lit up when he saw her. “We just got in. Mary’s on her way over. She’s getting the staff sorted out.”