Chapter 17

Charlotte

I deliberated going back home to St. Claire so I could talk with Theo, but he’s out of the country at the moment, so I settle on flying to Gen, like I promised.

Peter glances over his newspaper at me. “Is there anything I can do, Princess?”

Quickly, I shake my head. I know that one word from me and he would find a way to make Brooks disappear. Something that should make me happy, but to even think of it makes me want to cry.

“I’m fine. Just a little homesick is all with the traveling we’ve been doing.”

“We can practice Ymladd Iscuitt,” he suggests. “I’ll even allow you to get a few good hits in.”

“Bless you, Peter, but the last thing I feel like doing is fighting. I’m tired.”

His dark, knowing gaze nearly makes me blush. “Then rest and I will wake you up once we land.”

I stand and start to move toward one of the bedrooms at the back of the plane, then pause. “I’m so very glad you’re the one that Beaumont chose to protect me.”

“He didn’t pick me. I volunteered.” He smiles warmly at me, with open affection.

Oh dear. This is so very awkward. “You did—how lovely.”

His lips twist. “You remind me of my sister.”

I smile sheepishly. “I had no idea—not that you had a sister. Naturally, you have a sister. Her name is Fiona and she’s been married for several years now. Two children—Liam and Molly.”

He laughs. “Calm down, Princess. I know what you meant and, after all you’ve been through, maybe it would be a good thing to have a man bent on protecting you that also thinks that you’re very beautiful and kind.”

Like Brooks did. How often did he compliment me? “I don’t need protecting, except by a man who thinks of me like his sister.”

“Yeah, and my boyfriend’s glad I chose you instead of Theo,” Peter says.

Once again I’m at a loss for words. “You think Theo is more attractive than I am.”

He smirks. “Can’t help what I like.”

This time I burst out laughing. “You must think the worst of me—one minute thinking that you’re hitting on me and the next complaining that you prefer my brother’s looks over mine.”

“It’s good to hear you laugh instead of holding back your tears,” he says in all seriousness. “Go rest, Princess.”

I walk to him, bend down, and kiss his cheek. “I needed to laugh. Thank you for that.”

By the time we arrive at Castle Saint-Lyons, I’m exhausted and Gen’s in session with Parliament, so I get to delay a debriefing with her and go straight to bed.

Only my reprieve doesn’t last very long because as soon as my eyes shut, I’m being awoken by a grumpy queen.

“Wake up, Char, you’ve been asleep for hours,” Gen says, shaking me a little. Now I know why my sister-in-law always said Gen and I have a knack for making a small amount of time sound like an eternity.

I peel my eyelids back and then rub away the grittiness. “What time is it?”

“Nearly dinner. I’m hungry and would rather not dine alone. Well, Devereaux will be there, but he’s as loquacious as a cactus.” She jumps up from the bed. “Although I would ask you to brush your teeth before we leave. Perhaps your hair as well.” She shakes her head and holds out her hand. “Come, I’ll do your hair.”

Reluctantly, I follow her to my vanity and sit down while she stands behind me. “Leave it down, please. My head hurts from wearing it up for too long.”

“Here’s a mint, darling.” She extends her arm, holding the candy so close that my eyes nearly cross.

I take the peppermint and pop it in my mouth. “How very considerate of you.”

“If you expect me to be anywhere near your gorgeous face, you cannot have the breath equivalent of a moose’s arse.”

I narrow my eyes at her, but then she starts to fuss over me, taking her time as she gently brushes my hair and chats about everything I’ve missed.

“Oh my word, Char. Why haven’t you interrupted me yet?” she all but shouts. “I’ve blathered on about every person around here. What they’re wearing. Who they’re sleeping with…you know, things that bore me to tears. You as well.”

“I don’t feel like chatting.”

Her mouth twists as she runs the brush through my hair one last time and then pulls back two large sections, fixing them in place with barrettes crusted with rubies and diamonds. “Why?”

“Because my heart is broken.”

Gen’s queenly, disinterested facade fades. “I will kill him myself.”

“We’ll have enough scandal without you being convicted of murder.”

She grips my shoulders. “What does he know?”

“I swear I didn’t say a thing—well, other than the bit about Beaumont being our biological father.”

Her blue-green eyes widen. “You what?”

“I didn’t mean to, but I didn’t have to say anything at all to him. He already knew.” Tears fill my eyes as I recall each piece of paper, each letter written in red ink, like tiny cuts on pictures of my family and me. “He had a file on us, with Beaumont’s confession and our birth certificates—the real ones. Not the forgeries.

“And that’s not the least of our problems, well, my problem.” My gaze drops to the floor. I can’t look her in the eye. She will be so disappointed in me. “There was one more reason Brooks wanted to marry me.”

“Oh no, Char,” Gen whispers. “Please don’t say you…”

“I might be pregnant.” I force my gaze to hers. “Please don’t lecture me and please don’t be mad. There might not be anything to worry about but right now…I just want my sister and not the queen to tell me that everything will work out.”

Gen closes her eyes and I know that her mind is spinning, that she’s calculating and deliberating the possibilities. Of the scandal of our parentage, of our birth…and a baby fathered by a man who did indeed hold my family in contempt.

Her eyes open. In them I don’t see accusation or condemnation. All I see is love. All I see is my sister. “I will take care of everything.”

I lean against her arm, my hand coming up to grip her wrist. Tears fall so fast that I can’t say anything at all. When she moves to stand between the vanity and me, I can’t control the fierce hug I give her or the sobs that wrack my soul.

Once I’m all cried out, Gen sends me back to bed and promptly orders up something from the kitchen. While we wait, she climbs into bed beside me and everything seems to rewind back to a time when we would share everything.

“Was he at least good to you while you were together?” she asks.

“He was bloody perfect in every way,” I say.

“A Prince Charming, huh?”

“Oh no. More like a villain. I’ve always wondered how they got there, what drove them to want to be that way?” I twist my hair around my finger. “I can’t imagine that they were born to be villains.” Plus, Brooks’s family was lovely. Normal.

“You were always the strange twin,” she says, making me laugh.

“Honestly, I thought he would have targeted you instead of me, but then I remembered that I’m not only the strangest twin—I’m the weakest link of the Sinclair family.”

“You are not,” she disagrees.

“I’m the one who let the entire world know that Colin married Della with my stupid Instagram account.”

“Eesh. Can’t defend that one.”

I spare her a glance and she scrunches her nose at me. “Anyway, he said that he found me to be fascinating. That he wanted inside my head. Foolish me thought it was to get to know the real Charlotte instead of the princess.”

“That wasn’t foolish. That was a risk we take in life. Some are worth it. Some we have to learn from.”

“I know,” I say sadly. “But I thought that by taking a risk on the villain instead of the prince, I wouldn’t get burned again.”

“That’s the problem, love. They’re all wicked, including the princes.” She hops up from the bed when our food arrives and lets the maid in. While the pretty girl with red curls lays everything out for us, Gen rummages through my purse.

“What are looking for?” I ask.

“Your mobile. Ah-ha!” She holds it up triumphantly. “Now, this is for your own good.”

Her fingers fly over the screen and my stomach flips. “What’s for my own good?”

“Deleting Mr. Walker from your contact list.”

“No,” I scramble out of bed, nearly running into the poor maid so I can snatch the phone from Gen’s hand. But it’s too late. There is nothing left of our conversations and his name is completely gone from my list. “How could you?”

“It was for the best,” Gen says. “Trust me. A man like Brooks knows where to find you, if he wants to apologize…or find out about other matters.” Her gaze darts to the maid, then back to me. “Delicate in nature.”

“Yes, you’re right.” My shoulders slump. “I can’t believe it’s over.”

“Was there something more to be said?”

“Perhaps I should have given him the chance to explain. I left in such a rush while he was out with his brothers that I barely had time to leave a note for him.”

“What did it say?”

My face heats. “Not very nice things.”

Gen waits until the maid curtsies and leaves before she speaks again. “Do tell.”

“I might have told him to go fuck his nonexistent feelings, which in retrospect made no sense, but it was the best I could come up with at the time.”

She blinks at me; then a smile pushes up the corners of her mouth. “Color me impressed.”

“Can we stay longer than usual here? I don’t want to return to the States for a while.” When my sister holds court, by royal decree I must be in attendance or have a very good excuse, like dying, in order not to be there. And if she leaves, then I must follow her as well.

Such is the life of a spare princess in the Sinclairs’ royal court.

“Why not? I can knock a few of the not-ever-going-to-happen off my list of suitors,” Gen says, lifting the lids off the plates of my favorite dishes. “Perhaps I’ll cancel my ball since I invited that arse. No reason to give him an excuse to show up at my court.”

“How about postponing your ball, until…well, until I know for sure and then I’ll help you host it,” I offer, even though the mere thought of being under all that scrutiny makes my skin itchy.

“I love it. You can stand against the wall, all night long, if you must, with Peter at your side. He’s very good at keeping people away…unless you want to meet them,” she says slyly. “I know. We can look at my list and find a husband for you, too. Won’t that be fun?”

Oh good Lord, no. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Say no, you dope. I’d never do that to you.”

I roll my eyes, then pick up my glass and toast my sister. “May you never lose your sense of humor. One of us has to laugh instead of cry.”

“May you never stop being a romantic.” She touches her glass to mine. “One of us has to have a happily ever after.”