Here we are, miss.” Malcolm, the butler, passed Corina a red-and-white china cup and saucer, golden-brown tea brimming against a gold rim. “This china set was designed specifically for Her Majesty, Princess Susanna.”
“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Corina perched on the edge of the couch. “May I ask, whose portrait is that over the fireplace?”
“Queen Anne-Marie as a young woman. She was a most beloved monarch.”
“I remember her from history. She stood for women’s right to vote in the mid-1800s.”
“An original suffragette.” Malcolm stood straight-backed beside the tea cart with his hands behind his back, gazing at the portrait. “The artist did her justice.”
Corina sipped her tea. She was used to opulent mansions and ornate rooms with damask curtains, but this was a royal room. Beautiful with textured walls, high, arching windows, and polished wood.
Yet the stack of newspapers on the floor by a reading chair, the iPad tucked into a chair cushion, and the wide-screen TV above the fireplace told the story of real people. Of a family. Of a home.
“I hear you studied at Knoxton?” Malcolm said.
“Graduate courses. My twin brother was a part of the Joint International Coalition headed by Brighton’s Royal Air Command. When he came to train, I came along to keep him company. He and Stephen—Prince Stephen—were friends.”
Malcolm headed toward the door as voices resounded beyond the living room doors. Corina stood when Nathaniel and Susanna entered first, arm-in-arm, looking very regal. He in a dark, very fine tuxedo. She in a deep-red evening gown.
“How do we look?” Susanna spun around.
“Now I’m underdressed,” Corina said. “You look fabulous. Susanna, is that a Melinda House gown?”
“Very good.”
Corina motioned to her own dress. “Saw this in their shop window in the fashion district yesterday. Could not resist.”
“She is really a genius. Melinda made Princess Regina of Hessenberg an icon overnight by just adapting her north Florida, cowboy-boots style.”
“I’ve not followed her, but I’ll have to do so.” The news of Princess Regina, a Florida girl, discovering she was the long-lost heir to the Grand Duchy of Hessenberg’s royal house came just as Corina determined to come out from under the fog.
“You should. She’s wonderful.” Susanna linked her arm with Corina’s and leaned close. “She’s one of us.”
Corina laughed, warmed by the princess’s camaraderie. “Then I’ll read up on her right away.”
“I’m sure I can arrange an introduction.”
“Ahem, and what of me?” The king cleared his throat, pretending to straighten his tie.
“Most handsome, Your Majesty,” Corina said.
Susanna walked over to her husband. “Babe, you look as handsome as ever.”
The Queen Mum and her husband entered next, dressed in a black off-the-shoulder gown and a tuxedo.
“I think we should do this every now and then,” the queen said, taking an appetizer from the tray Malcolm had begun circling around the room. “Either that or my husband needs to take me out to the symphony more often.”
“Love, say the word . . .”
Corina had only observed the former prime minister for a few moments, but he was ardently in love with his wife. How lovely to find heart-palpitating romance a second time around.
Upon that thought, Stephen entered, resplendent in his black tuxedo, his white shirt giving a kind of light to the lean planes of his face. His strength and presence consumed the atmosphere. And he knocked the breath right out of Corina. She felt weak-kneed with love butterflies flitting through her belly.
He’d tamed his dark, thick hair, styling back the sides but leaving a saucy coil of bangs drooping over his high, smooth forehead.
Steady. Loving well doesn’t mean falling back in love.
But had she ever fallen out of love? Corina set down her cup and saucer on the nearest table, hands trembling, looking over at Stephen to see if he was watching her, but instead seeing him moving toward her, filling the air with a clean, woodsy scent.
“You clean up rather nice,” she said with a long inhale.
“Dinner is served.” Malcolm opened the dining room doors.
Nathaniel offered his arm to Susanna. “Might as well go all out, then,” he said, winking at his wife.
The queen took Henry’s arm, leaving Stephen and Corina to follow.
He offered his arm, held her chair, then sat next to her.
As the salad was served, the conversation was of the Brighton summer, the art festival, and the theatre openings.
Of course, of rugby and the junior tournament going on at Cathedral City Stadium.
Then of the event of the summer, the premier of King Stephen I.
“The movie is being compared to Braveheart,” Henry said.
“I’m looking forward to it.” Corina sipped her water.
“Corina, Stephen said you’re doing an interview with Clive Boston.” The queen seemed delighted.
“That’s the plan. I texted him yesterday and we’re to meet at the premier, then get together the following day. But Clive is known to change his mind.”
“Tell him Queen Campbell is looking forward to reading your piece.”
Corina accepted the queen’s warmth and friendship. “Thank you. That should give me some proper ammunition.”
A footman cleared their salad plates and refilled the water goblets.
“Stephen,” Susanna said, “you know if you don’t show up at the premier with a date, Madeline and Hyacinth are going to have a field day with you.”
“Let them do their worst.”
“Corina,” the queen said, reaching for her water, poised and elegant, “are you attending the premier with anyone?”
“Well, no—”
“Stephen,” Campbell lowered her voice and leaned toward her son, eyeing the footman entering across the room with their main course, fried chicken and mashed potatoes. “Take your wife to the premier.”
“Mum, I thought you’d be my date.” Stephen flicked his hand at Corina. “She came to work.”
“Won’t it cause a stir if we show up together?” Corina said.
“Yes, thank you.” Stephen huffed, popping his hand on the table. “She’s right.”
“In your own words, Stephen, let them do their worst.” Campbell turned to the king. “Nathaniel, what do you think?”
“Mum, it doesn’t matter what he thinks.” Stephen pushed away from the table. “Corina and I are in the middle of an annulment.” He glanced her way but kept his eyes above her head. “If I attend a premier with her on my arm, we will be a media spectacle. Every paper and blogger will have their say. We don’t need anyone mucking up our past.”
Corina’s appetite faded as Stephen’s tirade heated up.
“They could find out we were married.”
“You are married,” Nathaniel said, and Corina felt as if she were in the middle of a family fight. A family to which she did not belong. She wanted to escape to the comfort of the Manor.
“But all she has to do is sign the papers and then we are not. If word gets out we are married, the annulment will become a big hairy deal. What’s the use in that? Nathaniel, you above all know what’s at stake here—”
“See, there you go. Hinting of something more. Just what is at stake here, Stephen?” Corina tucked her folded napkin beside her plate and pushed away from the table.
“Corina, I don’t think Stephen is implying any hidden motives.” Campbell also rose from her chair.
“I disagree. Begging your pardon. But he’s not telling me something. And until he does, his wagon is hitched to mine. I’d love to go to the premier with you. What time shall I expect you to pick me up?” Push. Shove. She’d get the truth from him one way or the other.
“Corina, Mum’s right. There’s nothing more going on.”
“You said to your brother, ‘You above all know what’s at stake here.’ I demand to know what that means.” Her voice speared the room with tension, toppling the once peaceful dinner. Corina regretted her outburst, but there was nothing to do about it now. She blamed Stephen. He did this to her. Confused her. Made her crazy. Rewired her heart. Trembling, she turned to the princess. “I’m sorry. I’ve been rude. My mother would be humiliated. Susanna, thank you for dinner.” She placed her napkin under her plate and turned for the door.
“Corina,” Susanna said. “You don’t have to go.”
“Oh, but I do.” Before she either freaked out, or . . . or . . . or crumbled into a weeping ball. She struggled, embarrassed, searching for the exit.
But the entry door was shut, blending into the carved walls. Corina whirled around until she spied a doorknob, and skirted toward it.
“Corina, wait.” Stephen came after her, his hand grabbing her arm.
She broke away, charged into the living room, retrieved her clutch, and started for the foyer. “Stephen, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here tonight. You and I, we’re like a ticking bomb. I don’t get you. You don’t get me. Shoot, I don’t get me half the time.” The love well message confused her, tripped her up. Why did God send a word but not understanding? She felt foolish and weak.
“Do you think we should go out in public together?”
“No.” She sighed. “I don’t know.” She fumbled with the clasp of her clutch. “Don’t you ever get tired of hiding? Living in the dark?”
He didn’t answer, but the twist in his expression told her yes.
“You don’t have to take me to the premier.” She started for the door, hot, frustrated, not even thinking that her first and last night with Brighton’s royal family ended in a fight. She was more Georgia redneck than southern belle at the moment.
“Corina—” Stephen blocked her passage with a swift sidestep.
“Not bad for a man with his foot in a boot.”
“It’s not my first go.” He loosened his tie. “Let me drive you home.”
“I’ll take a cab.”
He laughed. “There’s not a cab stand outside the palace.”
“Then I’ll walk to one.”
“You don’t have to be so stubborn.”
“Neither do you.”
“Fair enough. What game are you playing?”
“Game? Please. I don’t need to play games.”
“Then why are you here?”
“For the premier.”
“And?”
“The interview.”
“I’m not buying it. Just like you don’t buy there’s not anything ‘more at stake.’ ”
She stopped. “So there is something more.” Her gaze landed on his, and the air between them was palatable. His cologne fragranced every part of her.
He started to answer, then withdrew his words and changed his expression. “No, no, there’s nothing more.”
“Then there’s nothing more to why I’m here. Just a routine assignment from Gigi.” To say she believed she had a divine call to try for their marriage seemed overwhelming to her. How would it sound to him? “And, the trip gave me an advantage to urge you along in finding out about Carlos.”
“Then I have a condition of my own.”
“Signing the annulment isn’t enough?”
“Why not attend the premier with me? Like you said. Come a bit out of the shadows. Shock the world.”
“What? Stephen, that’s the exact opposite of wanting me to sign the annulment.” She shook her head. “Besides, you told Madeline and Hyacinth I was not your date. Do you really want them digging into us?”
“What will they find? Nothing. No news stories, not even a photograph. The marriage certificate is in Nathaniel’s safe hands. Other than the old and new archbishops and Thomas, who knows? Let’s pull one on Madeline and Hyacinth. It should be good fun.” His smile urged her yes further to the surface.
“I don’t want my parents finding out in the press.”
“They won’t. Promise.” Stephen tipped his head toward the dining hall. “The chef made fried chicken for you tonight. His recipe is one of the best.”
Corina glanced toward the dining hall. “No, I can’t.” She was too embarrassed. “Give them my apologies again. I’ll send flowers tomorrow.”
“Let me get the chauffeur to drive you home. I’ll ride along, check out this mysterious Manor.”
Corina exhaled, giving him a weak smile. “We never saw any of this coming, did we? That night we took the ferry to Hessenberg.”
“I know I didn’t see a lot of things coming.”
“You know what I regret the most?” She walked through the foyer toward the front door. “You never gave us a chance. Never trusted our love.”
These blips of honesty surprised her, freed her. She could see the impact had a reverse effect on Stephen.
The expression on his beautiful face hardened, and the tenderness in his gaze faded.
“Come,” he said, ducking past her and hobbling down the portico steps. “I’ll ring for the chauffeur.”