Chapter 3
Drew
The engine rumbled beneath me and the deep throated roar of all that horsepower filled me with childish glee. The bike hugged the road as I cornered, leaning low and seeing the black bitumen fly by. I straightened, bringing the bike upright again as together we started the hill climb. I glanced over the side berm to the view spread out before me. The water of the lake sparkled like diamonds in the sun and the palace sat poised on the shore and basked in the perfect summer day.
There was nothing to compare in Australia. We didn't have fairytale castles or snowcapped Alps. We didn't have the length and breadth of history… okay, not true. Our native people did have a long and rich historical culture, but it was not as easy to see or interact with as it was here in Europe where there were buildings older than our federation, older even than from when white man first set foot on our shores. The castle and the surrounding town predated the French Revolution, being part of France until they broke away to form their own independent monarchy. Australia was still such a young country by comparison and it was mind boggling to me to walk on stones and along paths that had been there for centuries.
I loved Australia, but that didn't mean I wanted to stay there all my life. Crossing the oceans and coming to this small country had already energised me to the point of not being able to sit still. There was so much I wanted to see and do and now that I had my Triumph, I was free to explore as far and as wide as I wanted to. It was a freedom that I had never experienced while in Australia. Even living two states away from my mother hadn't been enough to keep her out of my life. Being several thousand kilometres away would hopefully be enough.
I reached the apex of the climb and spotted an area where I could pull over and admire the view without endangering my life and my new bike. As I got closer I saw a sight that kicked my heart rate up. The pink Ducati that had roared passed me yesterday on the street was lying on its side and the leather-clad woman that was riding it was now standing over it, trying to lift the machine and not succeeding.
I pulled off the road and flicked down my kickstand before turning off the engine and getting off my bike. I flicked up my visor as I approached.
“Do you need some help?”
The woman turned to me and I stood dumbfounded as she reached up to pull her helmet from her head. It happened in slow motion, like in a beer commercial. She lifted the helmet and her glossy brown hair tumbled free, bouncing around her shoulders. She shook her head and I was mesmerised as the sun caught the strands and made them shine like copper and gold. Then she opened her eyes and blinked at me and I felt it right through my heart as I recognised her.
“It's you,” I breathed, hardly able to reconcile the hot woman in skin tight leather with the very prim and proper Lady Jeanette that I had danced with at the wedding.
I reached up to pull my own helmet off my head and her eyes widened.
“Drew,” she said, her voice husky and breathless.
I closed the distance between us in a handful of strides and stopped just short of touching her. I still couldn't believe it was true, that she was really standing here in front of me.
“What happened?” I asked, not meaning the bike. “You disappeared so quickly from the wedding, I didn't get to make sure you were okay.”
She blushed and looked down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I'm so sorry about what happened,” she peeked up at me through her lashes, “I was so embarrassed that Joshua would do something like that.”
“Your boyfriend?” I asked, my fists clenching.
She shook her head, “No, my brother.”
“The marquess?” I asked, surprised.
“No, my other brother.”
“So, not a marquess but still a lord?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yes.”
I ran a hand through my hair and looked down at the bike.
“What happened?” I asked, gesturing to the Ducati.
She rolled her eyes and her cheeks pinked, “I'm still learning,” she said, “and I always forget to put the stand down when I stop.”
I bent down and heaved the bike up and into a standing position, flicking down the kickstand before letting it go.
“It's too heavy for you.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” she said and I smiled at the heat in her voice.
I turned to look at the view, the whole reason I had pulled over in the first place.
“This is amazing,” I said and I felt her turn to look too.
“I know,” she said, “I still can't get used to it.”
I turned to look at her, “But you live here.”
“I do, but I've only lived here for a year and a half. England doesn't quite have the same view as Merveille.”
“No, I suppose not,” I agreed, turning back to take it in.
We stood side by side, silently looking out over the hills and dales, the farmland that looked like patchwork and the glittering lake bordered by its Alps. It looked more like a postcard than reality and I had a moment of feeling like I was in a dream and that any minute I was going to wake up and find that none of it was real.
I reached my hand out and took hold of hers, anchoring myself to the here and now. The touch of her palm against mine shot heat through my arm and into my chest, just like it had on the night I had danced with her. I hadn't forgotten that night and had dreamed of it ever since, never thinking that I might actually see her again. And here she was, my angel in skin tight leather.
Jeanette
I couldn’t believe I was standing beside him, the man I’d been dreaming about for the last three months. Our liaison was short, mere moments really, but it had stayed with me ever since. The way his hands had held me as we danced, the scent of his aftershave and the way his lips brushed lightly over mine. I had never experienced anything like it before or since. He had haunted me since that night and I never dreamt I might see him again.
The warmth of his palm against mine proved to me that this was real. Our fingers were woven together and it felt natural, normal, to be standing there with him, holding his hand as we looked out over the town that was now my home.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, tearing my eyes from the view to look at him.
“I have a job at Monticorp.”
“You're the new CFO,” I said, remembering how he had been Freddie's guest at the wedding.
“Yes, but I don't start until next week.”
I liked his accent, the Australian drawl wrapping around me. It should sound harsh or nasally or uncouth, but Drew made it sound almost lyrical.
“Congratulations,” I said and then lapsed into silence, not sure what to say next.
He squeezed my hand and I heard him take a deep breath, but he remained silent. I tried to look at him with my peripheral vision, I wanted to stare at him, soak him in, but that would be rude, so I tried to do it without him noticing.
I was so torn.
Here was the man that had had a profound effect on me after only a few moments in his presence, a man I wanted to spend more time with and get to know. A man who I wanted to kiss me again, for real, without the interruption of one of my brothers assaulting him. But, he was also a man that my mother would never approve of. He was Australian, which alone would be a big strike against him, but he was also a man without a title, even if he was about to start work with Freddie.
My mother didn't exactly approve of Lord Bingham either. She didn't think lords should work, which was entirely hypocritical considering my brother’s work kept her in designer clothes and jewellery. My brother may only be a marquess, but he was a wealthy one, which was more than I could say for some of the nobility, both here in Merveille and in other monarchies. Thanks to my brother’s business acumen, I had a sizeable trust fund and, of all things, a dowry. Apparently my family thought I would need the added incentive of money to snag an appropriate husband, my looks being what they were.
Drew turned to me then, a smile on his face that lit him up and made a warmth flood through me, chasing away my melancholy thoughts.
“Let's go for a ride together,” he said.
I looked down at my watch, realising I had completely lost track of time.
“I can't,” I said, “I have to get back.”
The smile on his face dimmed and I wanted to say something to bring it back. Before I could think, the words were out of my mouth.
“How about a rain check?” I said. “Are you busy tomorrow?”
His smile brightened once again and he squeezed my hand, which I hadn't even realised he was still holding.
“Great,” he said. “Should I pick you up from the palace?” He laughed and shook his head. “I'm sorry,” he said, “I don't even know if that's where you live. I'm just assuming you do, which is rude of me. It just goes to show how much I have to learn about Merveille.”
“I do live at the palace,” I replied, “but…” I bit my lip. I didn't mind Drew knowing about my bike and my riding habit, but no one else knew and I wanted to keep it that way.
“But?”
I sighed. “But no one there knows I ride and I keep my bike in a storage shed in town. It's not exactly lady-like behaviour to dress in leather and ride a motorcycle.”
He turned to me and tugged me closer so that we were almost touching, but not quite. I could feel the warmth of his body and smell his aftershave and I was mesmerised by his unusual tawny coloured eyes.
“So this is a secret?” he asked, his voice low and conspiratorial.
I nodded, my mouth dry. I wasn’t able to speak.
“No one else knows about the Ducati? No one else knows that you like to ride a fast, powerful machine?”
I shook my head slowly.
“Excellent,” he growled and it sent a shiver through my body. “This can be our little secret.”
I looked at him with a mixture of fear and wanting. Spending more time with him would be dangerous, but I couldn't find the wherewithal to resist him. Something inside me yearned for him even though I knew he was totally off limits. My mother would have a cow if she found out I was cavorting with him, but then she would pass out in a dead faint if she knew I was riding around Calanais on a motorbike. I was a good girl, had always been a good girl who did everything she was told, but something had changed within me and there was this new, rebellious streak that was becoming harder and harder to ignore. Was it wrong to want to have just a little bit of fun before I had to settle down as some titled gentleman’s perfect wife?
“Yes,” I finally replied, my voice low and breathy. “It needs to stay our little secret.”
He smiled triumphantly at me and my eyes dropped to his lips. Was he going to kiss me to seal the deal? I would really like that. A lot. I waited, impatient to feel his lips on mine once again, but instead of lowering his head towards me, he moved away from me and the connection was broken. Real life rushed back in and disappointment washed over me like a wave of dirty dishwater.
He followed me back down the mountain and I felt his eyes on me the whole time like a caress. I tried to keep my focus on the road and the bike and all the things I should be thinking about instead of him, but the draw of him was too strong and my mind wandered to him time and again. Finally I pulled up at the storage shed and he pulled up beside me. He took hold of my handlebars before the bike could fall. I rolled my eyes at myself. Of course I had forgotten the darn kickstand again. While he held the bike upright, I kicked the stand down and then dismounted.
He did the same and knowing he was still watching me made me fumble with the keys as I tried to open the shed. I got the roller door up and there he was beside me, pushing my bike inside. I let him do it, as it was a struggle for me and I appreciated the help.
“So I'll pick you up here tomorrow?” he asked as he came back out after stowing my bike.
“Yes,” I replied, “About one?”
“Perfect.”
He grinned and walked away, throwing his leg over his own bike and starting the engine. With a wave he was gone, leaving me standing there like some love sick teenager watching him ride away.
“Get yourself together,” I muttered to myself. I turned to the shed and stepped into the darkness, reaching for the light switch. I pulled down the roller door with myself inside and then headed towards the back of the shed where I had a little change room set up. Behind the screen I stripped out of my leathers and hung them up carefully. I pulled on the summer dress I’d worn on my way to the shed and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I couldn't very well leave the palace in my leathers, not that I thought Alyssa would care. She'd probably want to join me. But I wasn't ready to share this with anyone; well, anyone other than Drew.
I gave myself a mental shake. I needed to stop romanticising him. I couldn't get involved with him, there was no way a relationship between us would work. My mother and brothers would never approve and besides, I now had Cameron to think about. Lord Broadcloth, Viscount of Westhaven, my mother's latest attempt at matchmaking. I didn't know what his story was or why he was interested in marrying me. Whatever his reasons, he had declared his interest and I had a date with him tonight.
I locked the storage shed as I left and walked the short distance to the row of boutiques where I was supposed to be shopping for an outfit for tonight. That was the ruse I used to leave the palace. Not that I needed any more clothes, but buying a new dress for a date was expected. In fact, I was surprised Mother didn't insist on accompanying me to ensure I chose something appropriate.
With a sigh, I walked into the first store I came to and I was greeted by name. Of course they all knew me, I was one of the queen’s confidantes and everyone knew us.
“Lady Jeanette,” the saleswoman said, “so lovely to see you. Your mother mentioned you might be in today. She asked me to put aside a selection of dresses for you to try.”
I resisted the temptation to sigh dramatically and roll my eyes, instead I smiled serenely.
“Thank you,” I replied as I followed her to the changing room she had already prepared for me.
Once she left me alone, I looked over the selection of ‘approved’ outfits. My mother had probably been to every store along the strip and done exactly the same thing in each of them. She didn't trust me enough to dress appropriately for a date with a potential husband. I was so very tempted to discard all her choices and pick something wildly inappropriate just to spite her, but of course I didn't. I tried on the outfits she set aside and chose a boring beige pantsuit.
I was naturally slim, too thin by my own reckoning. Clothes tended to hang on me like they hang on a coat hanger. I had no curves to speak of, nothing to fill the clothes out and give them shape. It just reinforced my very plain appearance. I was a stick with boring brown hair and boring brown eyes, no redeeming qualities whatsoever according to my mother. I was even too tall by her estimation, and shouldn't wear heels. Men didn't like women taller than them. Cameron was on the rather short side, so I'd need to wear flats. Drew, on the other hand, was quite a bit taller than me. When we danced at the wedding, despite my wearing heels, he was still taller and we fit together nicely.
I wrenched my wayward thoughts back to the task at hand. I paid for my purchases and retrieved my phone out of my bag to call for a car. While I waited, I noticed a bright window display across the road. There was a red dress on a mannequin and I couldn't help fantasising about what it would look like on me. My skin was fair, like the good English rose I was, so it would probably look stark, all that red against my lily white shoulders. But a girl could dream, right? It looked like a dress you could go salsa dancing in. The fitted halter neck, the firm bodice that would skim my hips and the flare of the skirt that wouldn't quite reach my knees and would swirl around me as my partner spun me around. In my fantasy, Drew was my partner and he was in a tailored pair of suit pants and a white shirt that was open at the neck, his suntanned skin a contrast to the snowy white of the shirt. I knew he was a good dancer and I smiled as I thought of the two of us dancing the salsa. I would even get to wear a pair of red stilettos.
A black BMW pulled up in front of me and I sighed as I let the daydream fade. I wouldn't even know where to go to salsa dance anyway.
Drew
It might be a little creepy, but I watched Jeanette as she waited for the palace car to come and pick her up. I hadn’t been following her, I had merely come upon her after completing some business of my own. I didn’t make myself known to her because I wanted to study her unobserved. She sat staring at a shop opposite and I followed her eyes. In the window was a gorgeous red dress that would look like a million bucks on her. She looked at it with such longing that I wondered why she didn’t buy it. She wasn’t short of a quid. But, no. Jeanette wouldn’t wear something like that, not somewhere she might be recognised. The few times I had seen her she was always conservatively dressed - well except for the leathers she wore when she rode.
She had changed into a simple summer dress that was pretty but didn’t scream ‘look at me’ like the red dress in the window. She was a puzzle. The woman I had met at the wedding was not the type of woman to ride a bike, not willingly anyway. And yet… there was something inside of her that I could almost sense wanting to break free. The woman who wanted to be a little bit wilder and not so buttoned up was simmering just below the surface. She just needed someone to coax her out. I smiled. I could be that someone.