Tangled Up in Princes (Royal Romances Book 1) (5 page)

"So you aren't worried about leaving your bride in the company of Edward, the prince of scandal?"

"Edward is as solid as they come. All that rot in the papers, it's mostly Jamie's doing and Edward takes the fall. He's loyal to the family, is Edward. To him, that means keeping the heir to the throne, out of trouble."

"So all the stuff with actresses and models and pop stars, that was all Jamie?"

"Probably. Or else complete fabrication. Either is more likely than Edward himself."

Silly how relieved that made her. So they'd shared a kiss. Big deal. It wasn't like they'd be planning a life together or anything.

"Excuse me. Phillip, would you mind terribly if I cut in?" Edward said, and Carrie's knees went wobbly.

"Not at all."

"You left Amanda and Jamie alone?" she said when Phillip was out of earshot.

"Relax,” Edward whispered in her ear. "Your sister has, I believe the term is--passed out across the bar."

His lips grazed her skin.

"I might have encouraged her to drink a bit more than was strictly wise. She'll pay for it tomorrow, but at least, she won't embarrass herself further tonight."

"Thank you."

"Seeing to siblings with less than stellar judgment is something of a specialty of mine."

"So Phillip told me."

"Did he now? What else has the upstanding Phillip told you?"

They watched Phillip carry Amanda out to his car. Even unconscious, her sister knew how to make one hell of an exit. With Amanda gone, Carrie felt the tension draining away, so much so that she leaned against Edward.

"That's it. You can relax."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She sank against him.

"You are a better sister than Amanda deserves, I suspect."

She pulled away in order to send him a pointed look.

"You needn't deny it. I know whereof I speak."

He was right, and they both knew it.

"Do you ever think of just saying, to hell with it? And letting them lie in the bed they made?”

"I do. I think of it often, actually, particularly a few minutes ago as I watched Jamie encouraging your flirtation--the rogue--but there's a deal at stake for me. For my entire family."

As though to underscore his words, a camera flash glared in the bar's dim interior.

***

Edward allowed himself an instant of denial. No, not now. Why now?

"Is there any chance you didn't just see a camera flash?"

"Afraid not," Carrie confirmed. "Looks like your friends from the castle are here."

"Damn it."

He looked toward the bar. There was Jamie, surrounded by women as usual. Where was Phillip? Gone. Too far away now for Edward to be able to turn Carrie over to his care. He grabbed Carrie's hand.

"I apologize in advance, but please, hold on."

Half dragging her, he dodged couples on the dance floor, keeping low so as not to be spotted by Dinah Adams, until he got to Jamie. He pulled a roll of one-hundred-pound notes from his pocket, leaned across the bar, and smacked down the wad of bills. He spoke in a low voice to the barkeep.

"This entire roll, you may have it all, no questions asked, only hurry and put out the lights. Leave them off for five seconds. That's all I ask."--he tapped the roll of money on the bar--"You have until I count to three to decide."

He counted quickly. He barely got past two before the man had pocketed the money and agreed.

"Good man," Edward said.

Jamie pushed through the crowd to stand beside Edward. The instant the lights went out, they moved. In the dark, they bumped, shoved, and pushed people out of the way. Edward knew where an emergency exit was. He always did. He dragged Carrie out of the bar and down an insanely narrow alley. At the end of the lane, they tripped over a vagrant, a drunk from the smell of him, and nearly tumbled into the street.

"Here,"--Edward hastily handed the drunk some pound notes--"when a man and woman come looking for us, we went that way."

He pointed down the street. When the now happy drunk agreed, Edward led Carrie and Jamie in the opposite direction.

"How are you holding up?" he called over his shoulder to Carrie.

"Fine," she gasped.

"I could carry you," Jamie offered.

"James," Edward said in his best imitation of their father's disapproving voice.

They stopped at another street crossing to catch their breath. They heard the drunk behind them, then footsteps pounded toward them.

"Bloody hell!" Jamie said, “Edward, you clearly didn't pay the man enough."

"Pardon me for not knowing the going bribery rate among Highland drunkards."

"What now?" Carrie asked.

"Now, I'll handle things,” Jamie said.

"Whatever you're planning, it's a bad idea," Edward said.

"You don't know what I'm planning."

"No, but I know you."

The footsteps behind them were growing near.

"Fine. Whatever it is, just do it."

Jamie straightened his tie and smoothed his hair. "How do I look?"

When Carrie didn't answer, he winked at her.

"On with it, James," Edward ordered.

Jamie watched the narrow street. He ignored the first two cars that passed, but when a third car, a Fiat with a single female occupant, pulled to the intersection, Jamie stepped into the street. He tapped on the driver's window.

"Hello, miss. My name is Jamie. His Royal Highness James, the Prince of Wales, to be precise. I find myself in a spot of bother, and I could use your help. This is my brother, Edward. Edward, come and introduce yourself. There's a good lad," he said when Edward bowed.

"This is a family friend, visiting from America. We find ourselves in need of transportation. I'm in a hurry, so I'd like to buy your car or perhaps just beg a ride of you."

The woman stared from Jamie to Edward and back again.

"You really are the princes, aren't you?"

"We are, and also in a rush. Could we impose on your generosity?" Edward said.

Jamie opened his wallet, but the woman shook her head. "I don't have to keep this a secret do I?"

As if she would, Edward thought.

"Not at all," he said.

"Get in."

They did. Carrie and Edward in the back and Jamie up front, giving directions and flirting shamelessly. This time, though, Edward could hardly fault him for it. Jamie's use of his charm and good looks had done what Edward's money and show of force had failed to do.

"It's to Drummond Castle you'll be going then?" The driver, a middle-aged woman with a thick Scottish burr, asked.

"I heard there was a posh do up at the castle this week. My cousin, her sister-in-law is with a swish catering outfit doing the food. It's neither of you getting married is it?"

"No," Jamie laughed, "Not one of us. Just feel free to take a scenic route back if you please."

Jamie was buying Edward some time. That or he was hoping their meandering would lose Dinah and Daniel. Either way, Edward was grateful. That was new. How many times had he found himself grateful to Jamie? None that he could recall, not since they were boys. Although his brother was a good sort, he was hardly the type one depended upon for help.

Edward took Carrie's hand. He leaned in closer to her.

"I'm sorry for all this…the walk earlier, and the dance, it was--"

I felt like myself and not just a member of the royal family
. But he couldn't say that. She'd think him mad. One simply did not say such things to someone you'd only met a few hours ago.

"I think it best that Jamie and I leave, lest we turn Phillip's wedding into a spectacle. We're needed back at the palace now, but I'd like to see you again."

"I'd like that."

"I shall try to return for the wedding, but I can't promise you that. I wish I could, but this is a difficult time for my family just now."

After a pause, she said, "I understand."

She didn't understand, and he couldn't make her understand. For all that he'd rather be here with her, his life wasn't his own. His time belonged to his family. Ultimately, he was the property of the British people. There was no way he could make her comprehend that, but perhaps he could make her understand how very much he wished things were different. He pulled her in for a kiss, one that had his heart pounding and his mind dulling. He didn't care who was watching. Her lips were warm and eager on his. He wanted to sink into this moment, to drown in it.

"Right there," Jamie said, seemingly from far away.

"That black Porsche, that's Edward's car. Have you ever seen a Porsche up close before?" he asked their driver, "Come on, I'll show it to you."

"Might I take a photo of you?" the driver asked. "Maybe one of the two of us? My friends at work will never believe me otherwise."

"Of course."

Jamie was trying to give him and Carrie some privacy. Edward appreciated the gesture, but he couldn't allow Jamie to be unattended without a security detail, not exposed out in the open like this. There was more he wanted to say to Carrie, but there was also nothing left that words could clarify. With one more kiss, a kiss that claimed her entirely, Edward got out of the car.

***

It was a cliché, the whole thing about poorly bred people, say, those from Kentucky, not knowing which fork to use. As is often the case, clichés are overused for a reason; it's because they're true. Claire sipped from her water glass because she had no idea how to eat with the dizzying array of silverware in front of her. Across the table, her father was also on his second refill of water. Her mother and Amanda seemed to be faring better: Amanda likely because she seldom ate anyway, and her mother because she'd simply chosen a single fork and gesticulated with it. Carrie looked down at her plate. It was fish, probably very expensive fish if the way it was looking at her was any indication. Call her a redneck, but she'd take a filet from Red Lobster any day over a fish that still had its head. Her dad raised an eyebrow at her. He was tugging at his starched collar. Carrie gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

The wedding rehearsal had gone well. The rehearsal dinner, on the other hand, was going on forever. She liked Phillip. She was thrilled he'd be her brother. But if she never saw the rest of his family again, well, that would be just fine with her. She heard the buzz of her phone vibrating inside her purse. She reached for it surreptitiously, happy for any distraction from her leering main course. She looked at the number. It was unfamiliar, but she recognized it as a London number. She excused herself from the table, giving her father an apologetic smile as she went.

"Hello?"

"Carrie? Is that you?"

"Edward. Oh God, but I'm glad to hear from you." She heard nothing from the other end of the line.

"Hello? Edward?"

She'd sounded too eager. Stupid, she chided herself.

"Yes, I'm here. It's good to hear your voice as well. How are you?"

She went to the alcove where she'd first met him.

"I'm hungry."

"Excuse me? Aren't they feeding you?"

"I don't mean to be insulting if it's a British thing, but I really prefer my dinner not to stare back at me."

He barked a laugh.

"What?"

"It was fish. I'm at the rehearsal dinner, and the fish still had a head. And eyes. And it stared at me."

"I bet you look beautiful. I reckon that was one happy fish."

"I doubt it. I'm pretty sure it was dead."

"Only pretty sure?"

"I repeat; it had eyes."

He laughed at her again.

"You probably think I'm some unsophisticated bumpkin. And well, you should know that I sort of am."

"I don't think you unsophisticated, and I'm not sure what a bumpkin is. But I do know that I've missed you these past few days."

She leaned back in her chair. He missed her. There went her heart, galloping off to Happytown again.

"Really? You missed me?"

"Every second. I've been trying to find a way to get back there, but ... it's a difficult time just now."

"Oh? Is everything okay?"

She heard him sigh, a sad sound that made her worry for him.

"Edward?"

"It's been a tough few days. I find my thoughts returning to the walk we shared."

So, he wouldn't tell her what was going on. Well, why should he?

"I miss you too," she said.

"Do you?"

”Of course."

"Have thoughts of me kept you up nights?"

If he only knew.

"Nah, I sleep like the dead. Amanda's keeping me busy."

"I can only imagine. So tell me, you're the maid of honor, correct? Aren't those gowns supposed to be hideous confections of pink ruffles?"

"This shindig is far too fancy for pink ruffles. I'm wearing navy blue silk. Very tasteful."

"You'll be lovely. I'm doing my damnedest to get back there for the wedding. How long are you staying?"

"We'll be leaving Monday morning."

"So soon? I'd have thought you'd stay for a bit."

"Amanda and Phillip are leaving Sunday for their honeymoon, and, um, there wasn't really any reason for me to stay longer than that."

"And now? Have you a reason to stay now?"

"Edward," she whispered his name.

For all her cavalier manner toward him, the truth was that she'd hardly thought of anything but him since they were last together. Was he keeping her awake at night? He was in her dreams. But she couldn't tell him that. Nothing drove a man away faster than a clingy woman. Besides, this was just a fling. One did not get all moon-eyed and heartsick over a fling.

"I love the way you say my name," he said in a voice like stubble rubbing against silk.

And she loved everything about him.

Dinner was over. Guests started filing out of the dining room. Her father came out loosening his tie and looking uncomfortable. Then came the Rhys-Coopers, looking poised and superior. Then Amanda and Phillip came out holding hands. They did look amazing together. Carrie hoped they would be happy. They could be. Unlike herself and Edward. Edward was royalty, and Carrie was just a girl from Kentucky. She'd do well to remember that.