Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Whoa. Royalty has come to call. It’s a good thing I swapped my old jeans and emotional-support hoodie for a nice new outfit of black pants, a white silk blouse, and black combat ankle boots by Jimmy Choo. Faking rich is fun.
Alistair swears profusely. The array of languages is impressive. French, Italian, and Spanish are all in there. I recognize scheisse as being German. Not sure about the rest. He is seriously unhappy.
“I take it visits don’t happen often,” I say. “How do you want to handle it?”
He sits slumped over the wheel. “It’s not too late for us to buy a private island. Just a small one. Nothing too extravagant. We could disappear and never be seen again. Live out our days sipping cocktails on the beach. I’d be more than happy to rub suntan lotion on your back. I’m useful like that.”
“It does sound tempting.”
Lady Helena and Dougal stand waiting by the front door. Judging by the set of her chin, she’s no happier about the situation than her son. Though Dougal seems unperturbed as he whistles a tune while surveying the property.
Alistair sighs. “Guess we better get it over with.”
“Should I wait out here?”
“No” is all he says, opening the driver’s-side door.
“Okay, then.”
We climb out of the car, and the only noise is the crunch of gravel beneath our feet. The silence filling the spaces between is deafening. Why does this feel like an ambush?
“Those hedges need trimming.” Dougal points to the offending shrubbery. “They’re out of control, lad.”
“I like them that high.” Alistair turns to the stranger in our midst and nods his head. It’s a brief show of deference. “Your Royal Highness, what brings you by?”
Princess Alexandra, the king’s sister, gives us all a sour look and says, “We’ll talk inside.”
As soon as the front door is open and the security alarm dealt with, one of her people ventures inside. No doubt to search for any hidden anti-monarchists. The princess doesn’t wait for the all clear, however, striding into the house with her nose held high. Although the remaining security person isn’t happy, she doesn’t seem surprised. And there’s a job you could not pay me enough money to do. Following them inside isn’t particularly appealing. A feeling shared by more than me. Alistair, Lady Helena, and Dougal all linger in the open air.
Lady Helena presents her cheek to her son for a kiss. “Hello, sweetheart.”
“Mother,” Alistair greets her.
“I was notified by a friend when her private jet landed. Had a feeling she might be headed your way. I tried to call, but you were apparently doing something very important and had your phone switched off.”
Nothing from her son.
“I’m sure that’s what it was. You wouldn’t be avoiding my calls, would you? Of course not. How silly of me to even think that.” Her diamond bracelets clatter as she pats me on the cheek. “Good to see you’re still with us, Lilah.”
“Thank you, Your Ladyship,” I say. “Am I supposed to curtsy to the princess or what?”
Lady Helena’s response is a maudlin sigh. “It’s been years since I’ve been around anybody that outranks me.”
“There, there,” says Dougal, ushering her inside.
Alistair’s face is blank. Never a good sign. “The king likes to send someone to lecture me once a year or so. But this is only the second time an actual member of the family has seen fit to visit.”
“I suggest we be exactly as polite to her as she is to us.”
His answering smile is all sharp teeth.
Princess Alexandra stands rigid with her back to the room, staring out at the garden. Her security people hover nearby. So much tension.
“We’ll talk alone, Alistair,” she says without turning.
He directs me into the corner of the sofa and stands at my side. “No. We won’t.”
The princess turns and sniffs with derision in our general direction. “Very well. I’m sure you know who sent me.”
“Can you name names?” Lady Helena sits beside me on the sofa. “It would be awfully helpful. My memory isn’t what it used to be, and you know subtext was never my strong suit.”
“Your recent behavior has been the cause of much concern. The photos of you in the media, particularly,” she continues, ignoring Helena.
“You mean the ones of him in public with a couple of different female friends? The ones where everyone was fully clothed?” I ask. “How the hell could they be seen as scandalous?”
The princess ignores me too and carries on. “We’d hoped you would have settled down by now. It’s not as if suitable candidates weren’t made available.”
“Do you mean that awful girl you had the audacity to send chasing after him the second he turned eighteen?” asks Lady Helena. “You remember, sweetie—” she turns to Alistair “—her father was some billionaire. Of course, it turned out that he was a close friend of a certain monarch. We had to find out about the connection through other means. It was all rather distasteful, as I recall.”