Chapter 11

Charlotte

“Is this a bad time?” I ask Gen as we Facetime in our respective bedrooms. Brooks isn’t with me due to the fact that since we’re not married, we can’t share a bed—Walker family rule, which I abided by and Brooks grudgingly accepted. I don’t mind really, because I swear that my face would be red in the morning from the knowing looks we’d get from his brothers.

Gen’s mouth opens wide in a yawn. “Actually, I was headed to bed.”

I glance at the time. “It’s nearly three P.M. your time, Gen!”

“The real party didn’t start until four A.M.” She props up her phone and begins to brush through her long hair. “Devereaux made me leave at five—apparently one can’t have too much fun on their birthday.”

“Then what did you do?”

She smiles. “Went to another party thrown in my honor.”

“He allowed that?”

“No. I might have sneaked out. He’s slightly furious with me, but I don’t care.”

I sigh. “Gen. You can’t sneak around like that. It’s not safe for you.”

“Yet you get to spend our birthday with your boyfriend’s family,” she accuses, like I’ve given up everything to run off with the circus.

“My plans were approved by Peter and he’s here as well. It’s not as if I have complete freedom.” Yet it slightly feels as though I do. The Walkers are very kind and giving and don’t make too much of a fuss over my title. Perhaps Brooks had a hand in that. He seems to always be concerned not only for my physical comfort but for my emotional comfort as well.

That doesn’t fit with the man I knew by social media reputation only.

And last night…he doesn’t want our affair to end, either. I know I shouldn’t have put that out in the universe like that, but fortunately he feels the same way. Perhaps not exactly as I do, but it has to be close.

Gen ruthlessly pulls the brush through her brown curls one last time before tossing it on the vanity. “I know that look. You’ve had it before when you thought no one noticed.”

“What look is that?” I fidget in the lovely brocade chair that faces the river. The same river where Brooks and I spent most of the evening. It was rather romantic, with the fireflies and the moonlight. Erotic, too, with the way he touched me.

“You’re in love.” She narrows her eyes at me. “You cannot be in love with him.”

“Why not?” There’s no use in lying to her or to myself.

“Because if I have to be with someone who’s suitable, so do you…as my heir.”

I sit up straighter. “Are you forbidding me from seeing him?”

Gen tips up her chin. “Perhaps.”

“You don’t have the right.”

“I have every right. You’ve barely known this man for two weeks.”

“You can’t put a timetable on love,” I insist. “And he knows things about me.”

Gen groans. “Naturally, he does. He’s a reporter, Char. He investigated us, put us out in the world again after we’d hid rather nicely out in the open for a decade.”

“Not those things. Private things…about me. Things I’ve only shared with you…and with Colin and Theo due to circumstances beyond my control.”

“How do you know he won’t use those private things against you?”

“I have to trust him to keep his word,” I say firmly. “Love requires trust.”

“What if he doesn’t love you?” she asks, making my heart pinch.

“Why does it matter since you’ve basically decreed that we cannot be together?”

Gen doesn’t answer me right away. Instead she stares off into the distance, just over her mobile. “I don’t have the power to do such a thing. I’m jealous, okay? Fantastically jealous that you are in love, are dating and meeting his family, like a normal person.”

“I’m sorry.” I swallow and finally get down to the real reason I called. “Shall I become queen and relieve you of the title?”

Every year, on the day after our birthday, I ask her this. I make sure that what was put in place is still her wish.

Her eyes flash with anger, then sadden. “No, I shall remain queen.”

“Then I shall remain silent.”

A genuine smile curves her lips. “I love you, big sister.”

“I love you, too,” I whisper. “And I’m sorry for what Nanny did.”

“It’s not your fault I was her favorite, not your fault that the hateful old bat switched us,” she reminds me.

“We—I could have fixed all that. We had the chance.”

“Our mother wouldn’t have believed it,” Gen says firmly. “We were only ten years old.”

“Old enough to learn the truth from Davies,” I counter.

“He sought to drive a wedge between us. Even after their deaths, he kept at it, not stopping until he resigned. That fool thought he could convince me you wanted to overthrow me.” She smiles bitterly. “He didn’t have a clue that we recorded every conversation we had with him.”

“I quite enjoyed the look on his face when you told him,” I say with a laugh. “I think that’s what pushed him to resign, along with Colin’s marriage to Della.”

“I don’t know,” Gen says slowly. “Davies is rather like one of those fish that play dead, let the other fish get their nibbles and bites, think they’ve won…and then rises from the dead to swallow his enemies whole.”

I shiver at the comparison. “Do you think Beaumont is really our father?” I ask.

We haven’t spoken about it in years, but it’s been on my mind more and more lately. Beaumont doesn’t talk about it, either. He remains at St. Claire, acting as personal bodyguard to Colin and his family.

“Honestly—no. I think our parents were like nearly every other aristocrat we’ve met, too rich with too much free time on their hands, so they liked to mess with everyone’s lives. Besides, if that slimeball Davies could prove we aren’t legitimate, he would have done so by now,” she says. “If only we could convince Theo to take a paternity test to prove otherwise.”

“He says he doesn’t care anymore.”

Gen sighs. “What else do you expect him to say?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, but this hurt him more than any of us. You and I, we’re secure as long as we’re our mother’s children. And we are, there is no doubt.” Gen and I are nearly exact replicas of her. “Our little brothers don’t care because they weren’t brought up as princes. They’re very lucky.”

“I don’t know. Some days it’s good to be queen.” She gives me a sly grin. “Did I tell you that the third party I went to was in the bathhouse? The one on the island directly across from Man?”

“Oh you didn’t!”

“No one cared that I’m the queen. They treated me like I was one of them. I got dunked in the pool. Went skinny dipping with scantily clad male servers.” She closes her eyes for a minute. “For a whole ten minutes, I was in heaven.”

“Only ten minutes?”

“Devereaux broke up the party,” she says flatly. “A queen shouldn’t be flashing her arse to the world. I told him he could kiss my arse.”

My eyes widen. “Gen, you are horrible in the best way. I could never tell Peter that.”

“Oh please.” Gen waves a hand in the air. “You’re carrying on with a man who holds people like us in contempt.”

“I don’t think he feels that way about everyone. Just people in power who take advantage of those who aren’t.”

“You are such a romantic,” she says with a shake of her head.

My door opens with a knock and Brooks walks in. “Ready for brunch?”

Gen makes a face at me. “Is that him?”

“No, I let strange men into my bedroom all the time,” I say with a wink at Brooks.

He cocks a brow in response.

“Guess I’ll go to bed so you can take your man to bed.”

I flush hotly. “We have to eat first.”

That makes Brooks grin widely.

“I mean, it’s time to eat.”

“Go on. We’ll chat later. In fact, I’ll Facetime you when I’m ready,” Gen says.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

She sticks out her tongue, in a very non-queen-like way, and I end our call.

Brooks crosses the room to kiss me. “I take it that you didn’t tell her about the Walker rules.”

“There are more?”

“Yes, but the one I’m talking about is the second most important one.” He holds out his hand and pulls me to my feet when I take it. “It’s out of respect for everyone, really.”

“Like I told you last night, I think it’s charming. I wasn’t offended in the least.”

“I was,” he grouses, then pulls me into his arms. “The problem is I had you in my bed for only one night and that wasn’t enough for me.”

“That was a first for me as well,” I admit.

“I like hearing that.” He kisses the top of my head and lets me go. “Grandmother Walker is waiting on you. She has more stories to tell you about the dead people in our family.”

I laugh. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy each one.”

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much, because I plan to kidnap you as soon as we’re done.”

“What about the charity polo match?”

“I came to an understanding with my parents. In exchange for not going today and a sizable donation, I promised them dinner with just the two of us. Even got Peter to go along with my plans for you.” He looks so pleased with himself that I can’t help but look forward to whatever it is he’s got up his sleeve.

“I would love to have dinner with your parents, but what in the world did you promise Peter in order to go along with your plans for me?” I ask as we move from my bedroom to the hallway and then down the stairs.

“My firstborn.” He grins. “I promised to keep our mode of transportation in site at all times. Had to show him I knew how to use a Glock correctly, too. He made me shoot at targets this morning.”

“That was you?”

“Yeah. Briggs came with us and wouldn’t shut up. Even Peter felt sorry for me.”

I laugh. “You probably would have had an easier time if you’d asked to learn the traditional fight stance of the Isle instead.”

“First, I did what I had to in order to make it possible for us to be alone. Second, what’s the traditional fighting stance of your country?” He truly looks curious.

“Ymladd Iscuitt. Loosely translated it means ‘fighting shield’ or ‘shoulder,’ depending on who you ask. I could teach you a few moves.” Very few because I found my strength in only three of all eighty moves.

He raises his brows. “You know how to fight?”

I nod. “Every Sinclair is required to learn. Beaumont taught us, and I still spar with Peter. Admittedly, it’s been a while with all the travel and distractions.”

“You can show me once we get to where we’re going.”

I grab his hand as our feet touch the bottom step. “My sister and I were cross with each other before you came in. I…I hate it when we fight over silly things. Not even my offer to be queen instead of her didn’t help,” I blurt and nearly sink into the floor. Why would I share that with him?

He doesn’t let go of my hand, but his look of admiration and curiosity is quickly replaced with unease. “This isn’t a good time to tell me that, sweetheart.”

“I was only teasing her, you know?”

He nods, but the unease remains.

Quickly, I kiss his cheek and then lean up on my toes to whisper in his ear, “Will it be a better time to talk later?”

“Everything will be better later,” he promises.

True to his word, Brooks whisks me away as soon as we clear the dishes from the table and load them into the dishwasher. I think I shocked his parents by helping, not because I’m a princess but because I’m a guest and Brooks didn’t explain that I wasn’t to lift a finger.

“Did you get a picture of me placing my dishes in the dishwasher properly?” I ask with a teasing smile. The wind whips through my hair as we drive, windows down, toward downtown Wilmington. “I’m sure someone would pay at least a dollar for it.”

Brooks smiles in return, but I can’t see if it reaches his eyes or not because he has on a pair of sunglasses that hide them from me. “I should have told you ahead of time, but it’s been so long since I’ve had a guest that it slipped my mind.”

We blow past the exit for Wilmington.

“I think you missed your—”

“Not going there.”

“But you said…”

“I lied.” He shifts gears and the nondescript pickup picks up speed. “Did I tell you this was my truck when I first got my license?”

I look around the cab. “Is it?”

“Had to share it with Briggs because my parents said it would instill gratefulness instead of entitlement.”

“I can only imagine sharing a car with Gen. Colin forbade either of us from driving alone, so I didn’t bother to purchase one. Who wants to own something you can never use?”

“Makes sharing with Briggs sound better and better.”

I grin, pushing back my sunglasses so that my hair stays out of my face. “Did you go to school here?”

“Yeah. All three of us did. I think our teachers were glad to see us leave, too, but I like to think we made their lives entertaining.” He laughs, a sound that makes my heart warm. He loves his brothers and it endears him to me.

“Did you and Briggs switch places so you could go to class for each other?” I ask, eager to hear more.

“Uh, yeah, that’s exactly why we switched places.” His cheeks turn pink and I blink.

“Why Brooks—what’s your middle name?” I ask, stopping in the middle of the lecture I’m set on giving him. In good fun, of course.

“Eugene.”

“Why Brooks Eugene Walker, I can’t believe you would trick girls into thinking you were your twin. As if you needed that to even make a girl like you.”

“I didn’t do it for that.”

“Why did you, then?” I ask, confused.

Looking over at me, he allows his shades to slide down his nose so I can see the very wicked look in his eyes. “Think about it, Princess.”

“Oh…oh. Never mind,” I say primly, and he bursts out laughing, turning his attention back to the road.

“It was only for a kiss and we were like thirteen.”

I lightly smack his shoulder. “You are so naughty to let me think the worst of you.”

“My reputation didn’t clue you in on that?”

“On what?”

“Everyone thinks the worst of me.”

“I’m not everyone.” Slowly, I take his hand in mine and lace our fingers together, squeezing gently before letting go. I want to hold his hand the entire way but he not only has to steer but also shift gears. “Seems to me, the only ones who think badly of you are the ones who were caught doing something illegal.”

“That’s nice of you to say.”

Ugh. I hate when he says I’m nice, like being nice means I’m only placating him in order to spare his feelings. “It’s true.”

“People are becoming less and less interested in the truth.” His voice is strong, but he seems so very far away right now.

“Still, you have to keep trying to tell it,” I say.

“You and Imogen ever switch places?” he asks, and my heart slams against my chest. “Let you be queen for a day?”

“We’re not identical,” I remind him.

“Too bad. I think it would be fun to rule a country.”

“That’s because you’ve never had to worry about the possibility of it,” I counter. “It’s not all diamonds and tiaras.”

“Then count me out.” He takes the next exit, one marked Smith Island. “So if you haven’t guessed it by now, I’m taking you to my home away from it all.”

“The one you gave me a key to?”

He nods, one arm propped on the door as we slow down. “The very one. We’ll have to park and take the ferry over. Only golf carts allowed.”

“That sounds brilliant.” I sit taller in my seat, trying to spy the ferry that will take us away. “No wonder Peter approved. Only one way in or out.”

“That helped.” He drums his fingers along the steering wheel. “I’m putting him up in the only hotel on the island. Friend of mine owns it.”

“I get an entire house to myself?” I almost swoon at the thought of so much privacy. “I won’t know what to do first.”

“Hopefully me,” Brooks says wryly.

“Naturally, you are first on my list of priorities.”

After another twenty minutes of chatting as we inch along the two-lane road, behind a long line of vehicles, Brooks is finally able to park. We get out and he takes my hand, holding it protectively in his, as we walk to the massive boat.

“How long is the ride?”

“Only fifteen minutes.”

“That’s not long at all—oh dear.” I start to walk back to the truck but realize how futile it is. “I don’t have my travel bag.”

“Whatever you need, I’ll get it for you,” Brooks says, a possessive look in his eyes. “Like my shirt for you to walk around in.”

“What about for bed?” I ask, knowing his answer but wanting to hear it just the same.

“There’s a no-pajama rule at my house. However, you can wear me if you get cold.”

“I doubt very much I’ll be cold with you in my bed.” I glance coyly at him, trying to be flirtatious.

“I like this side of you, Princess.” Taking off his sunglasses, he slides one side inside the collar of his shirt. “Keep it up.”

I accidentally on purpose brush my hand across his groin. “Does this help keep it up?”

He sucks in a breath. “Wait until we get home, Charlotte.”

“And then what?” My tummy quivers in excitement and I know if he were to touch me right now, he would find me incredibly wet.

“I’m going to finally give you that birthday spanking you deserve.” He pulls me behind one of the small buildings and yanks me to him, covering my mouth with his. “You drive me crazy, Princess.” He’s rough and tender, his tongue seeking and demanding while his fingers touch my skin with such reverence that I suddenly want to cry.

And then I am crying because I think that perhaps my entire family is right. I’m a foolish romantic, one who went in with her eyes wide open and forgot to lock away her heart.

“Why are you crying?” Brooks asks, his voice rough. He rubs his thumb over my cheek.

“My family thinks you’re very bad for me, and I think I might be making a mistake…again,” I say, hating the look of that comes into his sexy blue eyes. He’s not shocked at all by my confession. He looks…resigned.

“Do you want me to drive you back?”

I shake my head, unable to speak because it will only make me cry more useless tears.

“Have you considered how bad you are for me?” He smiles at my shocked expression. How in the world can I be bad for him? “You’ve made me take an unscheduled vacation when I should be working. I haven’t updated my fucking social media platforms in almost two weeks. I’m spending time with my pain-in-the-ass twin instead of busting his balls over who he’s backing for office.”

“That’s a good thing,” I whisper. “You need a break. You work too hard and family is very important.”

With a groan, he cups the back of my neck, applying gentle pressure until I rest my forehead against him. “Sweet Charlotte, what I am going to do with you?” He runs his free hand up and down my back, comforting me like a boyfriend would.

Or like one would do for a child who can’t handle an adult relationship.

“Oh dear.” I push away from Brooks, taking him by surprise. “I’ve made a mess of your shirt.”

“My shirt can handle the mess,” he says, his mouth twisting. “Want to tell me what else is bothering you?”

“Just ignore me.” My gaze skitters away. “I’m always emotional around my birthday.” Not a lie. My birthday has always reminded me of our last days on the Isle, my last day of childhood innocence. The last time I had two parents, parents who mostly ignored us but were at least present.

“Because you miss your parents?”

I try to answer him, but nothing comes out at first.

Not once has anyone ever asked me that and meant it. Not once has Colin or Theo imagined that Gen and I have always been jealous of the extra time they had with our parents. Not once have I actually allowed myself to admit that despite how awful everyone says they were, I would give anything to see them again.

Finally, I fix my gaze on him and say, “Actually, yes.”