Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
He laughs. “That’s true. She’ll be a hoot at parties.”
The thought scares me a little, and I’m not one to scare easily.
“But Jasmine expects to be announced as your fiancée on your birthday. How will you handle the Sinclairs? It doesn’t seem like Harriet is going to want to announce anything quietly. You’ll likely have to keep it a secret until the banquet. That won’t be easy.”
“My mother will handle it. They can’t defy the queen,” I reply. “Besides, they should have told us she’d returned as soon as she did. They can’t blame us for doing it this way when they’ve been lying to us for two fucking years.”
“Why do you think they’ve hidden her? Other than to make sure Jasmine is the one who marries you, of course. From the outside, you get on well enough, and the woman has half our circle convinced you’re in love with her despite never being seen together.”
God only knows how she’s managed that. I’m no more in love with Jasmine Sinclair than I am the idiot sitting opposite me right now.
“Because that old git made an agreement with my mother a few years ago when she once again refused to accept that Harriet was dead. If Harriet didn’t return by my thirtieth birthday and I didn’t meet anyone else, we would make it official between me and Jasmine.”
“And two years is nothing in the grand scheme of things, really.”
“Exactly,” I say, nodding. “Not when you consider that the engagement was supposed to be announced on Harriet’s twenty-first birthday. They tried to push for it to happen on Jasmine’s, but my mother refused. She didn’t want to give up on the idea that Harriet was still alive, but this was all the time she could buy. Any longer and people would have started asking questions.”
“You’ve gotten away with it until now by using your work as an excuse.”
“Starting the foundation took eighteen months out of it, but I can’t use it anymore. People will start mentioning my age and why I don’t have a family or an heir soon enough. It’s none of their fucking business, but it’s hassle I can’t be bothered to deal with.” I run my fingers through my hair, glancing away. “The last thing I need is someone speculating about my sexuality and stalking me to find proof of a non-existent gay affair.”
“Hey, if you need someone to help you out with a gay affair, you can call me.” He motions to himself. “A fake one, that is. You’re handsome and all, but I’ve got enough on my plate without being your princess.”
I stare at him flatly. “Shame. You’d look lovely in a ball gown and tiara.”
“Ask my sister. She probably has pictures of my childhood trauma.” He shudders, then gives me a small smile. “You’re really going to do this, huh?”
I wiggle my toes inside my shoes. It sounds crazy, I know, but how can I not? Even if we disregard our childhood and the pact made between our families, I can’t deny that I haven’t stopped thinking about Hattie since the moment I laid eyes on her in the park.
There’s a magic to her, and I fear I’m already under her spell.
Plus, her honesty is wildly refreshing. It’s a far cry from the bullshit I hear on a regular basis from those trying to get into my good graces. I actually respect the fact she doesn’t want to marry me. I wouldn’t want to marry me if I were her, so that’s just fine as far as I’m concerned.
As for her revenge… Well, that’s none of my business. I don’t have enough information on what she’s been through or why she’s so determined to destroy her family. I can’t form an opinion without it, but she doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who’d rip someone’s life apart for nothing.
I trust that she has a good reason, whatever it may be.
“When’s Alec getting here?” I ask, swiftly ignoring his question.
“Five minutes ago.” Alec nods to the maid at the door and strolls in lazily, dressed head-to-toe in his customary black. He lowers himself onto the sofa opposite me and sits back, resting his hand on the back of the sofa. “It’s not like you to be so eager to see me, Your Royal Highness.”
“Drop the act,” I say dryly. “There’s something I want you to look into for me.”
He raises his chin, peering at me with his indigo eyes. “What do you want to know?”
I tell him what’s happened with Harriet, and for the first time in a long time, his usually stoic, expressionless mask cracks.
“Fuck.” He rubs his hand across his jaw. “And you’re going to marry her?”
I nod sharply.
“Sounds like she’s got balls.” He chuckles, echoing Oscar’s earlier sentiment. “Shame you’re going to take her up on her offer. If you weren’t—”