Chapter 31

Alexander

“We should get a swing,” Tamara said, leaning her head against my shoulder.

“A swing?”

She looked up at me. “Yeah. Can’t you imagine us sitting out here, swinging away?”

The image flashed through my mind. Stars above, quiet below. Peaceful.

I smirked. “You only just got the place and you already want to start changing things around. You’re ruthless.”

We’d spent the afternoon exploring the rooms of the house. They were familiar to me, but to my bride there was a surprise behind every door. Even rooms she’d seen before she now saw in a new light. They were her rooms. This was her house. It belonged to both of us, but Springfield Manor was my gift to Tamara.

Tamara shoved my shoulder and giggled. “I don’t want to change a single thing. It’s not like I want to put a pool in. It’s just a swing.”

“A pool,” I mused. “Now there’s an interesting thought.”

“Don’t you dare touch a single blade of grass on the lawn,” she warned.

I chuckled. “Yes ma’am.”

Tamara sighed and stretched her legs out on the blanket, leaning back against the mountain of pillows. We’d piled up every one we could find in the house to make ourselves a little lounge area, and it was paradise.

“I wish we didn’t have to go back in the morning,” she said. “I wish we could just get married here, tonight, without anyone else around to bother us.”

“I think we’ve gone off book enough as it is.”

I shouldn’t have said it. Tamara glanced my way and worry laced her words.

“You never told me what your family said when you told them.”

“Because they didn’t say anything of consequence.” I pulled her a little tighter.

Tamara was stressed enough without me adding to that by revealing that my announcement had ended with an argument between my father and I. Edward had stayed out of it, as did Victoria, but I hadn’t spoken to the king since. There was nothing he would or could do to stop the wedding, so it didn’t matter. What was done was done.

“I feel like you’re holding back on me,” Tamara said. “I don’t like secrets.”

“Tamara, I told you.” I kissed her forehead. “We ruffled a few royal feathers. That’s it—just some feather ruffling. It’s going to blow over.”

“I don’t want your dad to hate me.”

“He doesn’t.”

Me, however? Perhaps a little.

My phone rang and I welcomed the distraction, even though Edward’s name popped up and I’d specifically told him not to bother me tonight.

“Hello, brother,” I answered.

“Forgive me for interrupting. I know that you had something special planned for Tamara tonight.”

“I assume it’s important?”

Tamara sat up and her face filled with concern. I smiled reassuringly, even as Edward proceeded to ruin my evening.

“I need you to come home,” he said. “A couple of flighty sponsors have backed out of the project. I’ve arranged a press conference in the morning to assure everyone you’re the right man for the job. I’m having a speech drawn up and delivered to your apartment.”

My smile slipped. “Bugger.”

“Just memorize the speech and pour on a couple bucket loads of that famous Alexander charm. Things will normalize.”

“Thanks for the heads up. We’ll leave now.”

I ended the call and pulled Tamara in for one last cuddle. “I’m sorry, Kitty Kat. I’m afraid we have to cut the fun short.”

“Is everything okay?”

I struggled to translate what Edward had told me into less grim language. I didn’t want to lie to Tamara, but I didn’t want her to worry either. I knew how much everything was stressing her out and I was terrified that one day she would decide it was too much and call it quits.

“Flighty sponsors,” I answered finally. “Never did the world of business run smooth.”

“Anything I can do?”

I shook my head and stood from the blanket, extending my hand to help her up. “Not this time. You can come cheer me on at the press conference tomorrow, though.”

Tamara smiled and took my hand. “That I can do.”

It was late by the time I dropped Tamara off and got back to my apartment. Nana was watching Hank for me tonight so I didn’t expect to find anyone waiting for me, which was why I was surprised to walk through the door and hear Debussy’s “Nocturnes”.

My father stood from the couch, holding his hands behind his back in the dignified way he did when he needed to say something uncomfortable. It was the same stance he’d taken when he passed on the news of my mother’s death.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” I closed the door behind me and went straight to the bar. “Gin?”

“Please.”

I poured us each a drink and handed his over. He sat and I took the armchair across from him.

What was he doing here? If he’d come to harangue me further about my engagement, he’d come at a bad time. Then again, there wasn’t a good time to try to talk me out of marrying the love of my life.

Father cleared his throat. “We exchanged some uncomfortable words the other evening.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” I took a sip of my drink and watched him. “If you’ve come to have another go, you’re wasting your time.”

“I think you misunderstood me.”

“I think I understood you perfectly.” I sat forward. “You think I’m a rash, opinionated child. You like Tamara, just not enough for me to marry her.”

His mustache twitched. “That’s not what I said.”

“It’s close enough.”

The music filled the long, silent gap between us. I upended my glass and went to stand, but he held out a hand to stop me.

“I found fault in your execution, not in your decision,” he said. “It came so quickly. You didn’t follow the correct procedures. You didn’t tell anyone in the family first. You did what you always do—jumped in with both feet and hoped for the best.”

I settled back in my seat and swiped my tongue over my dry lips. “I don’t see the point in arguing about it again. I’m marrying Tamara.”

“I know, and I’m not here to argue with you.”

“What are you here for?”

Father sighed. He swirled the liquid in his glass and stared at it, a slight hunch in his shoulders.

“Your mother didn’t care much for procedure either,” he said finally. “She wanted everything all at once.” He chuckled. “I used to ask her what the rush was. Things take time, especially in our family. We can date our lineage back a thousand years, so why fuss over a little wait? A little care?”

I sensed this was something my father hadn’t thought about, much less spoken about, in a long time. It intrigued me, and was happy to sit back and just let him talk.

His eyes glassed over. “And then she died. My beautiful, impatient Noelle, who never took her time, didn’t even take her time to die. It felt like a second passed between the moment we realized she was sick and the moment I buried her. Just like that.” He looked up at me, looking more fragile than I’d ever seen him. “I have few regrets in life, but my biggest one is not doing more for her. Giving her more. I should have moved mountains for her, son, not built a winding path around them.”

“She never blamed you,” I said. “She knew your duty. She knew hers.”

“I know.” He nodded sadly. “And my regrets won’t bring her back. I know that too. What I’m saying is, I see a lot of your mother in you, Alexander. Especially with everything you’ve done recently, all the growth you’ve shown. If you’d come to me with a fiancé a few months ago, that would be a different story, but the man you are deserves more credit than I have given.”

“You’re saying you support the marriage?”

He smiled. “I’m saying I support you. I’m proud of you, son, and I believe in the goodness of your heart. And you can count on my continued support as long as you try not to cause too much more drama.” He laughed gruffly. “You’ll give your poor brother a heart attack.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a moment so candid with my father. Had I ever? It felt bloody good, like I was shedding years of doubt and resentment.

I stood to get us another drink and my eye caught on the folded paper on the table. My speech for tomorrow.

An idea pinged in the back of my brain and I grinned. “Very well,” I said. “Only, I’ve got a little more drama to cause.”