To Save a King, page 23
He pointed out the large binder with flyers from touring companies and restaurants and every possible thing a body could want to do or see in one of Europe’s oldest cities.
When he was assured of Gemma’s complete satisfaction, Arnez bid her a good afternoon then paused by the door.
“Begging your pardon, but have we met before?” he said. “I’ve seen you somewhere.”
“I don’t think so. This is my first time to Port Fressa. Ever been to Hearts Bend, Tennessee?”
“Never heard of it.”
“There might have been a photo of me with Prince John. Online. But we’re just friends, nothing more.”
“Don’t care squat about the royals. I’m a RECO man.” In his early twenties, he seemed intelligent but edgy, an independent thinker, with a bit of hipster thrown in.
“RECO man?”
“Member of the Renaissance Coalition to remove the monarchy, peacefully of course, in favor of a full-on republic. Why should the House of Blue rule for a thousand years? What gives them the right?”
“The law?” Gemma took a shot.
Arnez laughed. “I like you. Spunky. Now, where have we met? I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere.”
“I was in a popular commercial a few years ago.” Five, no six years. Already. Goodness. “During the American Super Bowl. I was the chip dip girl.”
“I don’t follow sports, especially American football.”
“It was all over the internet.”
“Yes, then that must be it. Only one commercial?”
“Several but that was the most popular. My hands, feet, and hair also appeared in several commercials.”
“You’re an actress? In Hollywood?” Arnez’s interest seemed genuine. A bit of his swank hotel veneer faded. “I’d love to be in film and television.”
“Former actress. I left California. If it’s what you want, work hard and stay with it.”
“Why didn’t you stay with it?”
“I had other priorities.”
“Ring if you need anything.” But before disappearing, Arnez leaned around for a final study of her face, shook his head, and was gone.
His brief final inspection left her shaking. Moments like this were exactly why she’d never, ever be on a world stage. Ten years ago it was all she wanted. Now she’d live in constant fear that if she became known, she’d end up notorious. For all the wrong reasons.
In the meantime, she’d pour a cup of tea, eat one of the delicious cinnamon-looking treats, and let Chandler out of his crate. He was starting to stir.
Gemma stored her suitcase in the bedroom—she didn’t bother to unpack—then let Chandler into his play area.
She’d slept and showered on the plane, so she was ready to go out, explore Port Fressa. It’d long been one of her bucket list cities.
Around five, Scottie knocked. “John is sending a car.”
“Good. I’ve been thinking you could take Chandler to him.”
“Instead of you? He knows you came with me because I begged you. Now get ready.”
He knows? Why didn’t he text. Why didn’t she text? This was going to be awkward.
Next thing she knew, she was crossing the Delafield lobby with Chandler in his crate, his cute collie nose pressed against the metal door, sniffing the air.
“Are you nervous?” she said to Scottie as they climbed into the back of a tinted-windowed Range Rover. Because she was. What if it was weird between them? What if he acted all Prince John and treated her like Scottie’s traveling companion? What if…
Get off What-If Avenue.
“I’m terrified,” Scottie said. “You?”
“Perfectly calm.”
“Do you always tremble when you’re calm?” Scottie scratched Chandler behind the ears. “He’s the only calm one in the car.”
“The Chamber Office announced today Prince John will attend the North Sea Island Nations summit next month instead of the queen. This unprecedented move has raised questions regarding the queen’s health. According to the News Leader, Queen Catherine has not been outside the palace since mid-July. With the crown prince not legally her heir, do we face a constitutional crisis if, God forbid, something happens to Her Majesty?”
— Melissa Faris, Royal Reporter, the Morning Show
“I don’t know what to think, Hy. Prince John attending the North Sea Island Nations Summit instead of Queen Catherine… Rather last minute. It’s in Port Fressa, correct? I find it all very odd. Do you think she’s ill? And if so, doesn’t the crown heir have to marry? I think the queen must change the writ. This is the twenty-first century. You can’t force a man to marry for queen and country. He’s still grieving his wife, for pity sake. It’s loony.”
— Madeline on the Madeline & Hyacinth Live!
“The Justice Ministry announced arrests of four key players in what is now being called the Midlands Reingard Scandal. Sources indicate more arrests to come, perhaps reaching all the way to the House of Lords.”
— Perry Copperfield, Cable News PF
Chapter Twenty-one
John
The timing of Scottie’s arrival coincided with the North Sea Island Nations Summit. But there was nothing to do about it.
The summit began Wednesday so he’d have to make the most of the few days before. Though he was fully aware Scottie didn’t come to see him, did she? She came to meet her mother. Between Mum, Gus, and Daffy, she’d be well engaged.
Then there was the issue of Gemma. Scottie insisted she came at her request, but how could he spend a few hours with her? She’d become a good friend. Not to mention he was proud of his homeland and wanted to share it with her.
Maybe dinner Monday evening because Tuesday was a prep day and Wednesdsay morning he’d hit the ground running. The event concluded Saturday evening with a royal ball. What else?
He’d planned to attend alone, make himself available in the billiards room, and offer his dancing prowess to the women attendees.
But perhaps, maybe, could he entertain Gemma as his date? No, think again. Rumors would explode about a new love. While he battled his feelings for Holland over recent events, he wasn’t sure he could commit to a new love.
For now, he waited in his apartment for Scottie and Gemma, a blend of anticipation and nerves.
He’d ordered finger food and drinks. Insisted only Dad, Gus, and Daffy be there to greet Scottie—he didn’t want to overwhelm her. But Aunt Arabella insisted she be present since she was Mum’s sister and had been with her through her most trying times.
John relented, but cousin Rachel might never speak to him again.
At the telly, Dad and Gus avidly cheered the Port Fressa Seamen, Lauchtenland’s number one cricket team. By the sideboard, Aunt Arabella regaled Daffy with ghastly pregnancy and birthing stories. If she didn’t stop soon, John would run interference. Daffy looked horrified.
Nothing but a typical, average family scene. It just so happened to take place in a palace. John inspected his place as if he were Gemma. While she’d made excuses for her run-down, out-of-date farmhouse, he found it charming and cozy.
What would she think of his dwelling? Pretentious? Ornate with coffered ceilings and gilded doors? Not very cozy? Not very charming?
“They’re here, sir.” Shaw stood at the door. “Miss Scottie O’Shay, Miss Gemma Stone, and young master Chandler Bing.”
“Chandler? What’s this?” John stepped in front of everyone to see Gemma carrying a wide-eyed, curious puppy peeking out from a black-and-white sling. “My little man. You brought him over for me?” He lifted the squirming puppy to his face. “Welcome home.”
“Who’s Chandler Bing?” Aunt Arabella’s voice bellowed. “Isn’t he a character on television? What show was it?”
“Friends,” Dad said, stepping up beside John. “And I think this little chap is Chandler Bing.”
“Chandler, meet your new family.” John tucked the puppy close to his chest and shot Gemma a look of gratitude. Her smile took him back to their time together and he missed the man he’d been with her.
“Everyone, this is Scottie.” He leaned to kiss her cheek. “And Gemma Stone.” As his gaze lingered on her, he suddenly had thousand things to tell her. “Welcome to Lauchtenland.”
But he must focus on the guest of honor. Scottie. He introduced her to the Family using first names and omitting royal titles. Still, Scottie and Gemma curtsied to Dad, Gus, Daffy, and Aunt Arabella anyway.
Chandler Bing on the other hand squirmed to be let down and immediately made his mark on the carpet.
“Shaw—”
“On it, sir.”
There was a metaphor in there somewhere. John knew it.
While the star of the evening was Scottie, and maybe Chandler—even after his mess—the one that surprised him was Gemma. Nothing about the royal room, the Family, the atmosphere seemed to intimidate her. She was so at ease. So…so Gemma. He didn’t get it. Why the hiddenness, the veils, the cloaked answers when they were together in Hearts Bend?
When will you tell me your story, Gemstone?
Seated on the far side of the living area, the girl who rescued things talked to Daffy and Dad, her hands animated with whatever story she told. She was a natural.
He sat with Scottie, Gus, and Aunt Arabella, trying to engage with their conversation but drawn to Gemma and the light coming off of her. Truly, when did she start letting her inner star shine?
He was about to say something to Scottie when Gemma’s laugh interrupted his thought. Leaning toward Dad, she gestured and waved her hands about until Dad playfully batted them down and started his own gesturing to make his point.
Shaw circled the room, checking the food trays, clearing away empty glasses. John broke away from his circle to discuss Chandler’s care and needs, requesting supplies to be purchased straightaway.
“I’ll send someone now, sir,” Shaw said. “I think he’s a lovely addition to the household.”
Scottie was on her feet when he turned back to the room. “While I’ve loved meeting you,” she said, “especially little brother Gus and Daffy, I came to meet my mother.”
She was a Blue all right. Taking command. Or perhaps that was an O’Shay quality she exhibited. Probably both.
Dad set down his tea. “I’ll take you.”
“I’m coming with.” Aunt Arabella hopped up, reaching for her handbag.
“No, you’re not.” Dad wielded authority over his sister-in-law with expertise. “I’ll give you a full report. But let’s leave this to Kate’s family.”
“I am her family.”
“Then her husband and children.” Dad waited for Scottie to join him. “John, are you coming? Gus and Daffy?”
“Gemma will come with us.” Scottie cast her friend a visual plea, which saved John the bother of finding an excuse for Gemma to come along.
“If she’s going, I’m going.” Arabella surged forward.
“She’s here for Scottie,” Dad said. “The room will be crowded enough. You’ll see her tomorrow, Bella.”
John looked to his brother, and as he hoped, Gus read his mind. “Dad, Daffy and I can’t go but why don’t you take Scottie, get to know her better. John you can drive Gemma, show her a bit of our beautiful city.”
Smooth little brother. Everyone could see what he was doing.
As Dad and Scottie departed, Aunt Arabella followed, still arguing her point to be at this grand meeting. “I’m Kate’s sister and Scottie’s aunt.”
Shaw excused himself and took Chandler to the kitchen for something to eat.
“Nothing too rich,” Gemma said. “He’s only seven weeks.”
“Some broiled chicken, ma’am?” Shaw said. “No bones.”
“That’d be fine.” She gave John a shy smile. “Sorry, puppy mama syndrome.” She spun around, taking in the room. “I’ve never been in a palace before. Very regal.”
“If I didn’t know, I’d think you frequented palaces often. You seemed so comfortable with Dad and Daffy.”
“They were kind, talking to me first.”
“I think you won them over. Hey, Gemma, can I ask why you and Scottie aren’t staying at Perrigwynn? Why the Delafield?”
Gemma made her way to the window. “I think Scottie wanted the space, a chance to work things out without being watched.” She stirred the air as she moved, releasing the fragrance of the Tennessee grass after a summer rain. “I’ve always been curious about the Heart of God. Can you see the lights from here?”
“A few of them.” He met Gemma at the large-paned glass and placed his arm about her—only to help her with the right vantage point—and directed her attention to the far, far corner of the city.
“I think I see it. There?”
“Yes, it’s twilight but the lights are more vivid at night.” His breath brushed her hair. “Isn’t it odd how the most beautiful thing in the city is best seen at night?”
“Or how light is so powerful against the darkness.”
When she lifted her face to his, he didn’t think, just lowered his head for a kiss and the world faded away. He was lost in her, in the taste of her warm lips, in the memory of the summer where he’d lived without a care. If only for a few weeks.
When he raised up, her eyes sparkled, almost rendering the shadows powerless. But she pressed her hand against his chest and backed away.
“John, that night…in the barn. It was a moment but let’s not start something we can’t finish. You’re not ready. I’m not available. Besides.” She tapped her watch face. “We should go. Support Scottie.”
“You’re absolutely right. I was caught up in—” A fairy tale. Some part of him was still that ten-year-old kid who wanted the magic of A Swan’s Feather.
* * *
Gemma
She’d changed the feeling between them when she backed away. Naturally. But it came with a bit of regret, and she was trapped between the possible and impossible.
John retrieved a key fob as he spoke to Gunner via a smart device. “We’re on our way down.” Now he stood by the door, waiting. “We should go.”
“I’ve upset you,” she said.
“No man likes to be put off after he’s kissed a woman, but you’re right. We shouldn’t get caught up in a fairy tale.”
“Fairy tale? We’re talking fairy tales now?”
He laughed to himself, jostling the key fob in his hand. “Mum used to read Gus and me an old family tale called The Swan’s Feather. In fact my cousin Rachel has published the story as a children’s book. It’s about a prince who can’t find his true love, then one day a feather appears in his life and leads him to his one and only.”
“I don’t have a swan’s feather, John.”
“I’m not looking for one, Gemma. Holland didn’t come to me by way of a mystical, magical feather either.” He opened the door. “Traffic should be light on a Sunday evening.”
In the corridor, passing maids and footmen came to attention. Gemma saw, felt the reality of John’s title and true stature. He was an honest-to-goodness Royal Highness. A prince. The entire world knew of him, watched him. He held a position of influence, a scepter he must wield with dignity and wisdom.
The ability to influence people for good had been one of her deepest desires when she’d struck out for Hollywood. For fame.
Until she ran headlong into a reality check. Even if she’d achieved her goal, she learned she’d have been one voice among the many. Her stage would’ve been nothing more than a clanging gong and crashing cymbal.
Now she had hope with Imani. Helping her launch into life filled her with hope. Being away from her the last twenty-four hours renewed her commitment and passion to give that girl every advantage. Life would steal no more from her.
Which was one more reason, among the many, why a serious relationship with a prince was out of the question. First and foremost, he wasn’t asking.
“What are you thinking, Gemstone?” John used her nickname with warmth and affection.
“About Imani. What a privilege it is to raise her.” She followed him through a paneled door down a back staircase.
“She’s lucky to have you. Truly.”
“Raising Imani is a great calling. I thought I had to be famous or rich to do good in the world. Your calling is grand and great, on a world stage. Mine is small and focused, on a small stage.”
“Don’t minimize your efforts while inflating mine. The best duty of any royal is to raise their children to have integrity and character. Especially because of their prominence.”
“As they say,” Gemma said, “the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. Or in my case, the hand that raises a solid, healthy teen.”
In the stairwell, lit with a row of recessed lighting, they were more alone than they’d ever been. The feelings between them popped and stirred.
“You changed me, you know,” John began his confession. “I wasn’t sure there was life after Holland and you showed me hope. You saved me, Gemma. Saved the king.”
“You reminded me anything is possible. As long as we set our sights on reality.” Gemma squeezed his hand. “I’ll always treasure knowing you, Prince.”
“Treasure knowing me? You make me sound like a chap you danced with at one of your proms.”
“It’s fitting. Because when it was all said and done, we left school to follow our own path.”
“And never the two shall meet.”
“Exactly.”
“The trouble is, Gemma Stone, we did meet. And it may surprise you to know because it surprises me, I’m not sure I can easily forget.”
* * *
Men in dark suits stood when they entered the Queen’s Waiting Room, bowing to John and giving her the once-over.
The room was lavish with a thick, emerald carpet, tapestry on the wall, a portrait of a former monarch. In the far corner, two men watched a crime show rerun, while two others watched the door.
John introduced her as she chose the nearest chair. The men in black merely nodded.
