Tangled Up in Princes (Royal Romances Book 1), page 11
"If you've something to say on the matter, please feel free to speak your mind."
"As you wish. Your sister, Georgiana, goes through mobiles at an alarming rate. She leaves them, forgets them, loses them, gives them away -- one or more a month. And Lizzy has been known to leave hers just lying about in view at a club while she spends hours on the dance floor. My people are charged with the safety of the members of the royal family, not the royal family's mobiles. We'd need more people if we're to expand our duties in such a manner."
Edward dropped into a chair across from Martin.
"Could that be it, do you think? Are they using our own mobiles to track us?
"In my opinion, it is the most likely explanation."
He forced himself not to grind his teeth. "All right then. Can you see to procuring new mobiles for everyone? And I want you to collect their old ones."
"Certainly, Your Highness. Shall I have another discussion with each of them about the necessity of keeping their mobiles in hand at all times?"
"No. I'll do that myself."
"Very well. I wish you better luck in the endeavor than I've managed."
They had both risen to leave when Edward's father, looking as angry as Edward had ever seen him, stormed into the room, the queen following close on his heels. He shoved an iPad at Martin.
"Fix this."
Looking as confused as Edward felt, Martin tapped on the iPad screen. His eyes went wide over what he saw on the screen.
"Oh my," was his only response.
"What is it?"
Edward felt the urge to grind his teeth.
"I don't understand all the fuss over this American woman," the king fumed. "This is unacceptable behavior."
"I'll attend to this immediately," Martin said.
He started to put the iPad in his briefcase, but Edward stopped him with his hand outstretched.
"If it’s to do with Carrie, I want to know. Now," he added with ice in his voice.
Martin's look was sympathetic as he reluctantly handed over the device.
Edward tapped the screen to start a YouTube video. It showed Jamie holding a door open for Carrie. Carrie, his pulse pounded at the sight of her. He'd managed to keep thoughts of her at bay -- mostly -- but there she was, on the screen right in front of him. She was amazing. Her simple beauty--unadorned, effortless--took his breath away. His grip on the device tightened when he saw what came next. Jamie pushed Carrie against the wall and ravished her -- that was the only word for it -- right there on a public sidewalk in the clear light of day.
"Bloody hell!"
"Precisely," his father said.
"Where was this video taken?" Edward demanded, "And when."
Martin had pulled out his phone and was tapping furiously.
"Earlier today, according to the gossip rags. In the United States."
"Fool boy!" the king raged. "Did you arrange a security escort for Jamie?"
"I did not, your majesty," He said, the color draining from his face, "I knew nothing of this, I assure you."
Edward's mother led the king to a seat. She spoke soothingly, and in vain, to him. The king was livid and wouldn't settle anytime soon. He pointed a finger at Martin.
"Get there. Now. Bring James back. I don't care if you have to drag him and return him to British soil in a sack. Just get him here."
"Of course."
Edward saw his mother give Martin a meaningful glance before Martin left the room. Edward walked a few paces away, giving his parents some privacy as well as putting some distance between himself and his father's ire. He replayed the short YouTube video. Carrie wasn't smiling. For just an instant, the camera caught her eyes going big and round when Jamie kissed her. Was that --? Did his own brother just put his hand up Carrie's shirt? He did, the bastard. Jamie would answer for that. If his answer came through a split lip, so be it. That's all the video showed, just the groping kiss. He did a web search. The video was the new hot topic of all the scandal sites. They said horrible things about Carrie. Edward rubbed the back of his neck. He felt a knot of tension forming there. How could Jamie do this to Carrie? Had they been conducting a liaison this entire time? While Edward had been trying to put Carrie out of his mind, had she been dallying with Jamie? No, he couldn't believe that of either of them. It made no sense.
The sound of the door slamming pulled Edward out of his contemplations. He found himself alone with his mother.
"I didn't know anything about this. I'm sorry."
"If you didn't know about it, why are you sorry?"
She rested her head against the chair back as she stared at him.
"I know how hard such things are on Father, particularly now. I would have him spared such anxieties."
"Edward, noble as the sentiment is, it isn't your responsibility to spare your father anxiety."
"Isn't it?" He said with a sharpness to his tone that surprised them both.
"You're right, of course. It's a responsibility you took on yourself and we've all come to rely on it. Perhaps I'm the one who should be apologizing."
I don't mind it. Usually."
"That video--what do you suppose it to be about?"
"It seems rather clear what it was about."
"Does it? Did your brother show a particular interest in the girl, this Ms. MacCallum, while you were in Scotland together? I hate to bring up unpleasantries, but her appearance in the papers prior to this was with you, was it not?"
Edward felt his cheeks burning. Christ, he was no schoolboy caught in an inappropriate dalliance. His mother was certainly more approachable than his father, but she still was his mother. And the Queen Consort of the United Kingdom -- not a circumstance to put one at one's ease.
"Yes, she was."
"I thought so. I spoke with Inga."
Inga was Astrid's mother, and a long-time friend of Edward's mother.
"She told me how you and Ms. MacCallum came to be caught in such a compromising position."
"You've a knack for ferreting out gossip. I never suspected it of you. In another life, you might have made a name for yourself on the other side of the tabloids."
She gave him one of her rare genuine smiles.
"A mother does what she must to look after her children. Don't forget, my son, that whatever else I am, I am foremost a mother."
This was very nearly a display of compassion from her. He couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken so gently to him -- to any of them.
"Thank you, Mother."
He didn't know what else to say. He wasn't one for expressions of emotion either.
"I know my children better than they think I do, and I find this behavior from James perplexing."
"Do you really?"
Jamie groping a woman in public perplexed her? Clearly she didn't know that particular offspring as well as she thought she did.
"I believe you care for this woman, and if I've managed to glean that information, I feel certain James has as well. That he would actively pursue a woman for whom you are known to have feelings, that's the part I find difficult to comprehend."
"I'll own I'm rather stumped by that one as well."
"It is her in that video? You're sure?"
"It's her."
He'd have that image, Carrie and Jamie kissing, burned into his memory for all time.
"Your father is livid. He's demanding Jamie be brought home immediately. It was one thing for you to be photographed in such a way with an American, but for Jamie, the heir, and with the same woman--the scandal will top the headlines for weeks."
"Indeed, it will. Such behavior warrants the full force of Father's fury. Personally, I propose we renew the practice of putting miscreants in the stocks and make Jamie our first example."
"Would you really have your own brother punished so?"
"You shouldn't ask me that just now, Mother. Ask me tomorrow instead."
"No matter how angry you get, you always forgive him. You always have. I know it, and he knows it."
"He might have overplayed his hand this time."
She tapped a finger against her chin. "No. No, I don't think he did."
"Then you both give my forgiving nature more credit than it deserves. I could merrily throttle Jamie just now."
"Is that what you really want to do?"
"What I want to do is ..." He wanted to get on a plane, cross the Atlantic and make love to Carrie until she forgot all about Jamie's kiss, until he was certain she'd never again want to be touched by anyone but him.
"Well?"
"I want to go to the United States. I want to handle this, not Martin."
"Imagine that. I'm sure your brother had no idea this would be the result of his actions." She pulled him down so she could kiss his cheek. "You clean up Jamie's messes. We all know it. We all know too how unhappy you've been since returning from Scotland. I could wish he'd have chosen a more discrete manner in which to reunite you with your American, but I can't argue Jamie's effectiveness. Do be careful, son, and send your brother home in one piece."
Chapter Nine
Carrie dragged Jamie into her house by his shirtfront and slammed the door behind him. Amanda was standing in the middle of the living room.
"Did you have to kiss her?"
Amanda had her hands on her hips, pissed off cheerleader persona in full force.
Straightening his jacket, Jamie took a step away from Amanda.
"I thought it was the best way to bring Edward here in a hurry."
"What the hell is going on here? What were you thinking back there? Don't you think I've had enough of being in the limelight? And you”--she swung around to glare at Amanda--"whatever is going on, you're in on it. I want some answers, and I want them now."
Amanda, gesturing toward Jamie, said, "It was his idea. He called me from a plane over the ocean late last night and said he was going to get you and Edward back together. I had no idea he was planning on such a public display."
Both women crossed their arms over their chests and faced Jamie.
He was looking at his phone instead of them, but he moved so that the couch was between him and the women.
"Look here. It's just like I thought."
He held up his phone where a video of their kiss outside Josephine's played.
Carrie rubbed her temples. She did not need this, not again.
"I appreciate that the two of you meant well. I feel compelled to add that you're both idiots, but I do appreciate the effort. Tell me how a video of me kissing Jamie is going to make Edward come running to the United States?"
"I started a fire. Putting out fires is Edward's job in the family. He'll want to come if for no other reason than to beat me to a pulp."
Carrie raised an eyebrow at him, "Edward hardly seems the beating type."
"You wouldn't think so, but he's a right nasty temper," Jamie said, "no, not really. But this time, I've provoked him at least to his limits if not beyond. Either way, I don't want to be here when Edward arrives. I'm perfectly content to be on my way back to London by the time Edward touches down in the States."
"You came all this way just for a bowl of grits and to kiss me? That hardly seems worth the trouble."
"Don't underestimate yourself"—the cheeky devil gave her a wink—“but there was a lot to make up for in that kiss. You'll just have to trust me."
Carrie peeked through the mini blinds.
"I don't know how you'll get out of here. More reporters are arriving every second."
"Hmmm. A flaw in my plan. Always the way. Ladies, any ideas?"
"I have one."
Amanda went into the kitchen and returned with a bag of garbage.
"I saw the garbage truck a block over, so you'll have to hurry."
"You'd toss me out in the rubbish bin?"
"I'd think about it real hard, but no, I wouldn't. Probably."
"You American women are vicious."
"Relax. I accept full responsibility for what happened in Scotland. I don't blame you."
"I wish Phillip felt the same."
Amanda chewed her lower lip and sighed, "How is he?"
Jamie looked uncomfortable.
"He'll be fine. Time and other fish and all that."
"So you two," Carrie waved a hand from Jamie to Amanda, "There's really nothing going on?"
"No," they said in unison.
"Just working together to right a past wrong, that's all," Jamie said.
Carrie was glad. She hugged Jamie. She held out no hope that this cockamamie plan of his would work, but she loved him for wanting to try.
Amanda hefted her bag of trash.
"Come on. You don't want to miss your ride."
"You're really going to throw me in with the rubbish, aren't you?"
"No, silly. I'm going to pay Jimmy, the garbage truck driver to give you a lift out of town. He'll do it for me. We dated in high school."
"You dated a garbage truck driver?"
"He wasn't a garbage truck driver then. He was the star quarterback and drove a tricked out Ford F250."
"I don't understand anything you just said."
"Just trust me."
Amanda hooked her arm around Jamie's and towed him toward the back door. Jamie paused long enough to give Carrie a quick kiss on the cheek before letting himself be unceremoniously dragged from the apartment.
With them gone, the apartment was quiet, the kind of quiet that got too close, the kind that invaded your space like a drunk admirer at a bar. She hummed to force some space between herself and that quiet. It was dangerous, this silence. If it went on too long, she might let herself begin to hope, to hope that Edward really would come. Then where would she be? She'd be waiting, day after day, and she'd go to bed every night disappointed and hurt. And day after day would turn into week after week and month after month, and soon, she'd be a hollow shell of herself. There'd be nothing left of her but hope, hope that ate away at her until it took over her life. The pain of losing Edward was bad, but the pain of hoping she could have him again could destroy her.
"No," she said aloud, "no!"
She clicked on the TV, but couldn't sit still long enough to find something sufficiently engaging to watch, so she went to the kitchen and, one by one, removed every dish from the dishwasher and hand washed it instead. Then she dried them and put them away. She'd just shelved the last coffee mug when the phone rang.
"Good news," Tonya chirped, "What'd I tell you? We got an offer."
"That's great," Carrie said through a throat that seemed about to close up.
Her shop was gone. Everything she'd worked for, gone in less than a single day.
"I'm in the middle of something just now, can I call you back in just a bit?" She didn't wait for a reply before disconnecting.
She tried to hold back the tears. Eventually, though, she just gave up and sobbed. It was inevitable anyway. Might as well get it over with now. But the thing was, it didn't feel like it would ever be over. It felt like she'd be in this place of misery and despair forever.
***
"Damn it!"
Edward banged his fist against the steering wheel of his rental car. The paparazzi were still camped outside her house. You had to be skilled in spotting them, and Edward was certainly that. He phoned Martin.
"I need a distraction, something to draw the remaining press away. Plant a leak or something. I don't know, leak that Lizzy and Magnus, that sideshow nutter she's been seeing, are planning to elope."
Edward listened to Martin's response.
"Of course, she'll be angry. I'll deal with it when I get home. Lizzy's a big girl. She can take care of herself. Just be prepared to tell father it's a complete media fabrication."
He watched her house for a while, inconspicuous in his rented Ford Fusion. Fearing he might still draw attention to himself, he drove around the small town of Spring Valley. It was quaint, understated. He completely understood how a place like this could have produced Carrie. He liked the town. Well, excepting that they drove on the wrong side of the road of course, but he couldn't very well hold that against the town itself. He drove down Main Street and was pleased to see that the FOR SALE sign had been taken out of the window of Carrie's shop.
"Jesus," he muttered to himself. He'd very nearly ruined her entire life. He wouldn't blame her if she refused to ever see him again.
Near nightfall, when he could stand it no more, he drove back to her house. He was fully prepared to remove—bodily if necessary--any remaining reporters. He was already later than he'd intended to be. First, his plane had been delayed because of weather, not once but twice. Then he'd got himself lost on the road from the Louisville Airport. He hadn't figured on Spring Valley being a two-hour drive from the airport. All this space in America--it was nearly vulgar, not to mention damned inconvenient. He needed to get to her. He didn't know how he'd managed to stay away from her so long. Now, with her so close, he couldn't stand it.
Reporters be damned. He parked and jogged to the front door. He was practically vibrating with anticipation when the door opened, but the woman standing before him wasn't Carrie.
"Pardon me. I seem to have made a mistake."
"Given your accent, I'd say so," the woman said.
"I'm looking for Carrie MacCallum."
The woman, red hair corkscrewing in all directions and freckles across her nose, but looking fierce for all that, looked over her shoulder inside the house before stepping out onto the porch and closing the door resolutely behind her.
"You're Edward I guess."
"Yes, I am. And you are?"
"I'm someone who cares about Carrie a hell of a lot more than you do."
Taken aback, that's what Edward was. No one had ever spoken to him this way before. Well, no one but Carrie.
"You must be her friend, Jeannie."
She cocked a suspicious eyebrow.
"I can see why the two of you are close. You're very like her, like Carrie. It might be that you've cared for her longer, but I challenge that you care for her more."
"Yeah, I can tell just how much you care for her by how often you've called, texted, and emailed since she got back from Scotland."
