Lunch was awkward. Maybe I was the only one who thought it was awkward, although the look on Drew’s face told me he wasn’t exactly comfortable either. I tried to keep my mind on the business at hand, but I couldn’t help noticing the way Elise looked at Drew. She was beautiful - so much prettier than me - and they’d known each other since they were kids. I couldn’t compete with that.

I sucked in a breath and sipped my wine. When had I begun to feel like I had any claim over Drew? He was all wrong for me, despite the way I felt when I was around him. My mother would never approve of him and after the way Joshua had punched him, I doubt my brothers would like him either. Then there was the fact that there was still some unfinished business with Lord Cameron. I had refused his offer, but I didn’t think he was the type to go quietly, especially when I found out just how much money was on the table. I was shocked at the amount of money being offered as my dowry, money that had been held in trust by my father for just such an event. It made me feel like a cash cow.

And then there was the not-so-small matter of Mother. She would not let this go easily. Martin had said he would deal with it, but I was yet to hear the outcome of Martin’s ‘taking care of it.’ Had he even spoken to her yet? She hadn’t called me, which I would have expected after the confrontation with Lord Cameron. Hadn’t he told her that I refused his offer? The entire messy situation seemed so unfinished that I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Freddie kept the chatter going and I tried valiantly to keep up. He asked me to explain my job and what I did for the queen and I only hoped I answered intelligently. Elise nodded along like I was telling her the mysteries of the world and I couldn’t help but like her easy and friendly manner. Drew looked like a thunder cloud and I doubt he was listening to anything being said. Michael asked insightful questions and Freddie’s eyes gleamed. Before the lunch was over, I knew he would hire them both, as he had told me earlier.

I felt a stab of disappointment that Elise was here to stay. Not because I didn’t think she could do the job, but because I knew she could do it well. The press was going to love her - she was everything I wasn’t. I couldn’t help thinking that perhaps whatever it was Drew and I had, it was now over. Elise being here put me in my place. Why would he even look at me now when she gazed at him with such adoration?

“So, tell us about growing up with Drew,” Freddie said when the business portion of the lunch was over.

Elise laughed delightedly. Her face didn’t screw up and her eyes didn’t go squinty like mine did when I laughed. Just like everything else about her, her laugh was perfect.

“Well, you know that we’re married, right?” she said and I nearly dropped my glass.

“Elise,” Drew growled, but she went on, regardless.

“I think the first time we got married, I was four.”

“I believe you forced me into pretending to be your groom,” Drew said.

“Oh, I definitely did. It was just after Jenny married Colin. I was the flower girl and I had this pretty white dress with pink rosebuds on it. At the reception I made Drew, who was the page boy and dressed in this adorable little tux, play my groom while Jensen played the minister.” She sighed. “It was such a lovely service.”

Drew snorted and lifted his whiskey to his lips. “Didn’t Jensen get stung by a bee that was in your bouquet?”

Elise laughed again, the sound tinkling like wind chimes. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot all about that!”

“So how many times have you and Drew been married?” Freddie asked, a gleam in his eye.

“Six or seven,” Elise replied with a grin.

“And they all ended in some sort of disaster,” Drew supplied.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Elise said, “What about the time we were on the boat?”

“You mean the dinghy that had a leak? If I remember correctly, we were out in the middle of the dam when the boat started sinking. Not exactly a romantic start to a fake wedding. And then there was the time when you tried to have the dogs act as attendants. They got into a blue and you got bit for your troubles. Oh, and don’t forget the time you thought it would be cool to get married while riding a horse, like in ‘Runaway Bride.’ It really was ‘runaway bride’ when your horse bolted.”

Elise laughed, not at all upset with the many disasters. “At least they were memorable,” she said.

“How did she get you to go along with all these fake marriages?” Michael asked.

“My mother,” Drew replied with a sigh. “My mother bribed me each and every time.”

Elise gasped. “She bribed you? I never knew that. Did she bribe you to take me to my high school formal too?”

Drew’s face softened in a smile when he looked at Elise. “No. That one I did all on my own.”

Something tight and uncomfortable formed in my gut. There was so much history between the two of them that they were bound to end up together. He had married her six times, surely that had to mean something. She was obviously infatuated with him and when she flashed those big blue eyes at him and tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder, how could he resist her? I didn’t have blue eyes. Just boring brown ones. My hair was a boring brown too. My eyes squinted when I laughed. I didn’t have any charming stories about my childhood and my laugh didn’t sound like blasted wind chimes. I grit my teeth against the uncomfortable feeling that swirled in me.

Was I jealous? Was this what was making me want to escape from this nightmarish luncheon? I don’t think I had ever been jealous before. I always knew that I would never be like the other girls, so I had resigned myself to always being the odd one out. Drew had changed that for me. He had woken up something inside me that said I could be whoever and whatever I wanted to be. Only now, knowing that I’d had a chance with him and seeing it being torn away from me before it even got started, I wished he’d never put the dreams in my head in the first place.

I made a show of looking at my watch and then put my napkin down on the table.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” I said, standing, “I really do need to get back to the palace.”

I didn’t wait for their responses as I turned and fled.

I wanted to go after Jeanette. I even stood when she did so I could follow her out, but a look from Freddie stopped me in my tracks. I sat down slowly and picked up my drink, lifting the almost empty crystal tumbler to the waiter in order to get another. The day had started out with such promise and now it was shot to hell. Any strides I had made in winning Jeanette’s heart had been ruined with the dulcet tones of Elise. I was tempted to rage at her, but I wouldn’t embarrass her in front of her potential boss. We would be discussing this, though, as soon as I could get her alone.

The waiter delivered my drink and I took a long draw. Drinking whiskey in the middle of the day probably wasn’t the smartest decision I had ever made, but so be it. Freddie could fire me if he wanted to. By the way he was looking at me, I didn’t think he would. He would want to talk to me so I wasn’t surprised when he stood.

“Thank you for joining us today,” he said as he shook hands with Michael and Elise. “I have a car waiting for you out the front to take you to the hotel where you will be staying. I’d like you back in the office tomorrow morning. A car will be waiting for you at nine o’clock. Until then, enjoy some sightseeing - Calanais is really a lovely city to play tourist in.”

Freddie showed them out, but I stayed where I was, finishing my drink. Did Elise really want to work at Monticorp or was it some misguided attempt to get close to me? I had made the mistake of dating her for a while, but from the second date I knew that there was no spark between us. I loved her; of course I loved her, but not as a lover. There was no chemistry, just years of familiarity. We knew each other inside and out and were friends of a sort. That was as far as it went and I had no desire to take it any further with her, even though it was my mother’s fondest wish.

Freddie came back inside and sat down, lifting a hand to the waiter for a fresh drink for himself.

“Is hiring Elise going to be a problem for you?” he asked.

I breathed out a long, harsh sigh. “I hope not,” I said.

“Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

I waited as the server placed Freddie’s glass in front of him.

“We grew up neighbours. Our mothers thought it would be a wonderful idea if we ended up married and pushed us both toward such an end. I dated her for a while, but there was just nothing there. I don’t think she got the memo, though.”

“She certainly seemed to think there was more to your relationship than neighbours.”

I nodded, looking at the way the amber liquid in my glass sloshed over the ice.

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Elise is brilliant, friendly, professional and enthusiastic. I have no problems with her having the job and I think she would do it admirably. My concern is that she has another reason for being here. A reason not related to work.”

Freddie drummed his fingers on the table as he sipped his drink. His eyes watched me over the crystal rim and I felt like he could see into my very soul.

“So what’s the solution?” he asked. “I like her for the job; I like both of them. My plan is to have Michael head up a new, revitalised marketing department and have Elise work under him. But if there is going to be problem with her working here, then I can just run with Michael.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Let me talk to her. If she really is here for the job, then I want her to have it. If she is only here because her mother or mine put some fool idea in her head about the two of us, then I will get her to withdraw her application.”

Freddie nodded once and sipped his drink again before saying, “What about Jeanette?”

I ran a frustrated hand through my hair. “That is the question. She looked really upset when she ran out of here. I need to talk to her as well and let her know that I had no idea Elise was coming and that there is nothing between us.”

“Nothing between you and Jeanette or you and Elise?”

“Nothing between me and Elise. There’s definitely something between me and Jeanette, but I’m just not sure yet what that something is.”

Freddie grinned at me. “You’re in love with her.”

My eyes widened at his bold suggestion. “I barely know her.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I saw the way the two of you were dancing the other night and I have it on good authority that you spent the day with her yesterday, even ending it on a sweet goodnight kiss.”

I groaned. “Seriously, the gossip in this place is worse than my mother’s hair salon.”

Freddie chuckled. “Just be glad the press hasn’t picked up on it yet. Jeanette would have a fit if they ran a story on her and the new bachelor in town.”

“Didn’t they already do one on her and Lord Cameron?” I spat out his name like it was bitter in my mouth. It was.

“Which is even more of a reason to make sure they don’t catch the two of you together. Imagine the glee of the paparazzi if they could link Jeanette with two men. She has a reputation for never putting a foot wrong and if she didn’t deal with the press as part of her job, she would essentially fade into the background, much like Margaret.”

“Margaret?”

“Ha! See! Margaret is one of Alyssa’s ladies in waiting. She is Savannah’s assistant, but no one ever notices her. Jeanette would be just like that if she wasn’t the media liaison for the palace.”

I bit the inside of my cheek while I rolled that over in my mind. Jeanette had told me how she had always been the good girl, but my question was; did she still want to be?

“Do you think she likes being… well, for want of a better word, forgettable?”

“You think she’s forgettable?”

“Oh God no,” I said, shifting in my seat, “But she works really hard at trying to blend into the background, which is not something I would think a media liaison would do. Take Elise for example, or even Michael. They stand out, people turn to look at them when they walk past. Jeanette isn’t like that. Jeanette hides from the spotlight. I just wonder if that’s a learned behaviour, something she’s been conditioned to do? Her mother has certainly done her best to turn Jeanette into something bland and almost invisible. But what I want to know is, does Jeanette like that or not?”

I left the restaurant, practically running from it, having no destination in mind. The only thought I had was that I had to get away. I had begun to let my guard down with Drew, had begun to entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, we might be able to have a future together and then I was slapped in the face with his girlfriend from back home. He wouldn’t even bother to look twice at me now that she was here.

My mother had been right all along. I was too plain and too boring to ever find a man who would fall in love with me for me. She’d told me practically every day from the time I started to get interested in boys that falling in love was so incredibly rare that the best I could hope for was a good match where I got something out of it… like a title. It seemed so dishonest to just marry a guy because he could give me a title. Shouldn’t I at least like him and he like me? Not according to my mother.

I’d reached the marina and I sank down on a park bench that overlooked the lake and the many boats moored there. So what about how I felt for Drew? If falling in love was so rare, then how come I was falling for Drew? And if I was falling in love, shouldn’t I do everything I could to make it a reality? The pretty face of Elise popped into my mind. There was the wrench in my plans. Elise. Drew had history with her and she was pretty and funny and exciting and all the things that I wasn’t. Of course I couldn’t pursue Drew, not when Elise was in the picture. Which left me right back where I started.

I really had no one to blame but myself. I had created this situation by allowing myself to think I deserved something better.

I stopped and rolled that thought around in my mind. When did I stop believing that I deserved happiness? When did I start to believe that I was somehow not entitled to love and joy and fun? My mother had brainwashed me all my life, but there had always been a part of me that clung to the hope that one day someone would fall in love with me. But that hope was gone… so when did that happen?

None of this was my fault. This was all my mother’s fault for her faulty parenting. What kind of mother tells her daughter that no one will ever fall in love with her? What kind of mother tells her daughter that she will only ever be worth something if she has a title attached to her name?

I stood from the bench, a righteous anger coursing through me. I had always done everything my mother had ever wanted, even when I wanted something different. I had curbed my anger, held my tongue, and behaved myself all to win a smile or a kind word. When father was alive he made up for my mother’s indifference with lavish praise and tangible love and affection. Since his death, my mother’s tongue had become even more acerbic and without the buffer of my father protecting me, her barbs hurt. I stood there and traced all my self-deprecating thoughts back to when they had actually began to stick. The death of my father was when the change occurred, admittedly over time. Hearing my mother’s less then flattering opinions of me over and over again had finally left grooves in my psyche. My internal dialogue now sounded like my mother. I looked at myself in the mirror and heard her words in my head.

I turned on my heel and strode up from the docks and turned towards my brother’s townhouse. I needed to talk to her. I needed to know why she was so horrible to me, why she was constantly putting me down.

It didn’t take long to arrive on the doorstep, my anger propelling my steps through the city. I rapped smartly on the door. It was opened by the butler, whose name I still didn’t know.

“I’d like to see my mother,” I said without preamble.

“I’m afraid Lady Beatrice is not receiving visitors.”

The man had the gall to try and close the door on me. I stuck my foot over the threshold to keep the door open and then forced myself in.

“I’m sure my mother would be delighted for me, her daughter, to visit her.”

“Lady Beatrice has taken to her bed.”

A hard knot of dread filled my gut. However angry I was at my mother, I didn’t know what I would do if I lost her too.

“Then it is even more important I see her,” I said.

I didn’t wait for him to reply. I marched down the hall and up the stairs. I crossed the landing and tapped on my mother’s door before opening it and stepping into the darkened room.

“Who is it? Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want to be disturbed?”

“Mother, it’s me, Jeanette.”

“Jeanie? What are you doing here?”

My mother did not sound like she was sick enough to have shut herself up in her room. But I never really expected her to be sick, did I? This was just another one of her games that she had been playing my whole life. It was a way to punish us when she was disappointed or when things didn’t go her way.

“I heard you were feeling poorly and I had to come and make sure you were okay.”

“Oh. Oh dear, I am poorly,” she said, her voice descending into a tremulous moan.

I smothered my smirk and moved further into the room. I pulled a chair over beside the bed so I could sit beside her. I took her hand in mine, her fingers were warm to the touch, not cool like I would have expected if she was really sick. I gathered my thoughts and tried to calm my breathing. My anger had turned to anxiety, my fear of confrontation and the years of conditioning, of being a good girl, fought against my desire to finally have it out with my mother. After all these years and all the manipulations, I would’ve thought that I would be raring to go. All those pent-up emotions and aborted conversations should have been filling my mouth and spewing out like a volcano of vitriol. But the fear of angering her, of disappointing her, was so ingrained in me that I couldn’t find the words. The speech that I had prepared as I stormed across town to her front door in all my self-righteous rage had evaporated, along with the anger that had fuelled it. I was left with nothing but the anxiety of facing her and asking for the truth. I was a coward and the panic attack that threatened to overwhelm me was the proof.

“What’s the matter?” I asked instead. My shame was complete as I avoided the entire reason I came to confront her.

“Your brother came and accused me of all sorts of terrible things and then told me that you had called off the betrothal to Lord Cameron.”

I gritted my teeth and nodded. “I did,” I said, “Lord Cameron lied to me. You lied to me.”

“Would you have even considered him if you knew the truth?”

“Of course not.”

“And that is exactly why I told him to keep it from you. I was only trying to do what I thought best for you. Lord Cameron is a lovely man and he could open up a whole new world to you.”

“I like the world I’m in,” I replied stubbornly.

“But you have the potential for so much more. This is what we always talked about, remember? You always wanted to have a real tiara, one that came with a title. And just think of it, you, a viscountess! Imagine all the wonderful things you could do with Lord Cameron by your side.”

I had wanted a tiara, when I was a child filled with childish dreams of fairy princesses and story-book castles.

“Why is it so important that I have a title? I can achieve just as many fulfilling and wonderful things without it.”

Her face fell and her eyes filled with tears. “It was your father’s greatest regret, you know,” she said softly. “All he wanted was to see his precious Jeanie married to a peer. Someone who could look after you and open doors for you. It’s such a shame that he died never seeing you settled with such a man.”

It hit me square in the gut. I had loved my father so much and he had loved me. He would look at me sometimes with a sad smile on his face and I always wondered what it was that troubled him. Did he really regret that he couldn’t give me a title or was this just another one of Mother’s games?

“It’s why he set your dowry so high,” she went on, “So that it would attract the more discerning gentlemen. He wanted you to be happy and he wished for you to not lack anything.”

Was this all my father’s doing, truly? It didn’t ring true to me. Surely setting a high dowry would have the opposite effect. Instead of attracting more discerning peers it would of course attract the fortune hunters. And if he wanted me to live a life without lack, he could have just given the dowry to me. My father had never been a man to get caught up in the tradition of things. He would never have believed that I would need a man in my life to make me happy.

My mother patted my hand. “I know it’s a shock to you dear,” she said, “But won’t you give Lord Cameron another chance? If it turns out that you really can’t be happy with him, then you can go ahead and call it off. But I wouldn’t feel like I’m doing my job if I didn’t plead with you not to be too rash in your decision about him.”

I looked at my mother lying there in her bed. She had already told me that she was sick, although she hadn’t elaborated. Imagining her frail and unwell washed away what was left of my earlier anger and left a cold dread in my stomach. I had already lost one parent and, although death was an inevitable part of life, I would be loathe to lose another too soon. Even though we didn’t have a great relationship, I did love my mother and I did want to make her happy. The years of trying to please her, the desire to finally have her say that she was proud of me or that I had made her happy were not easily thrown off. What would it hurt to see Lord Cameron one more time? There was obviously nothing going to come of anything between Drew and I, not now that Elise was here. What did I have to lose by seeing him one more time? It wasn’t an acceptance of his proposal, it was just covering all the bases.

“Okay,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll speak to him.”