Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“I cannot believe you’re enlisting Granny to help us blackmail someone. It’s a bonkers idea.” Juno sighed as the guards let us onto the grounds of Hillingham House. “I’m so annoyed I didn’t come up with it.”
We parked the SUV outside the porticoed entrance of the Jacobean-style mansion that was bought by a Victorian ancestor. Truthfully, Juno and I had spent more time at Hillingham than any other royal residence because it was closer to home. Moreover, it was a favorite among the family. They alternated Christmases between here and the estate in the Scottish Highlands, so we were lucky that this year they’d stayed in England.
Staff appeared to take the car keys and usher us into the house.
While we waited in the wood-paneled drawing room with its arched pillared gallery walkway above it, Juno tapped her foot nervously.
“It’s unlike you to be anxious.”
“I’ve never asked my grandmother—a royal princess—to help us blackmail someone before.”
“Well, that sounds very mysterious and interesting.”
We both jumped to our feet at our grandmother’s voice. She was tall and walked with the straight-backed stride of a much younger woman. Her light brown hair had been dyed her once-natural color to hide the gray and styled in flattering waves around her still pretty, wrinkled face.
She strode across the drawing room in a Christmas green sweater and skirt.
“Granny.” Juno curtsied and then bridged the distance between them for a far more informal hug.
I bowed as Granny embraced my sister.
Then she reached for me, cupping my face affectionately between her palms. “You get more handsome every day, Sebastian.”
“Thank you, Granny.”
“Now.” She looked between me and my sister. “It sounds like we’re in luck that the queen and the rest of the family are out on the estate riding … if there’s blackmail afoot?”
I cleared my throat. “Let me explain …”
Ten minutes later, I’d finished explaining what had happened between our parents when Granny pressed a button under the side table next to her armchair.
“I’ll deal with it.”
Relief churned with my guilt. “I know my mother will be angry with me for sharing these details—”
Granny cut me off with a wave of her hand. “Your mother is my daughter. I have a right to know when she’s ruining her life over the word of a vicious social-climbing leech. Gemma Hartwright has enough ghouls in her closet to frighten a decent person into removing herself to some far-off place where no one knows her. She’s miserable because her husband is divorcing her for someone who won’t drain his coffers dry, and she decided to make your mother miserable because your mother made herself an easy target.”
I scowled. “Granny, I don’t think that’s fair. I think this is a doubt that has sat between my parents for a long time.”
“Only because your mother doubts herself and cannot see how wonderful she is. She always thought she was lucky to marry Paul, not the other way around.”
Well, that was rather nice. “Have you ever said that to her face?”
My grandmother narrowed her eyes. “Of course I have.” Her expression softened ever so slightly. “Do you know your mother was bullied at school? I didn’t find out for two years. She was bullied for being the daughter of a princess and the school kept it from me. My darling Clarissa kept it from me because she was afraid of disappointing me. I found out from another parent whose daughter had grown quite concerned for your mother’s well-being. I pulled Clarissa from that school so fast … along with my money. It doesn’t exist anymore. The school. Unfortunately, the damage those girls wrought on your mother’s self-esteem does.”
“I didn’t know that,” Juno murmured, something like guilt crossing her face.
“No, that doesn’t surprise me. You know we didn’t use to talk about things like that and how they affect you. We were told to toughen up and get on with it. I’m glad your generation talks about these things. Though I do think you all could do with a little more resilience. There’s got to be a balance, you know. There aren’t trigger warnings in real life.”
My lips twitched with amusement that my grandmother even knew what a trigger warning was.
Suddenly, the drawing room door opened and the butler, Mr. English (really, that was his actual name), strode into the room.
“Your Royal Highness?” Mr. English gave a bow of his head.
“English, I’d like you to contact Ms. Gemma Hartwright on my behalf and ask her to attend afternoon tea here at Hillingham House tomorrow at two o’clock. Make sure she understands the importance of her accepting my invitation.”
“Very good, Your Highness.”
“My grandchildren will be leaving in ten minutes. Have Anderson bring their vehicle back around.”
English bowed his head and departed the room.
Juno leaned forward in her seat. “What are you going to do, Granny?”
Our grandmother wore a wicked little smirk. “Let’s just say, I know something that will nullify her prenuptial agreement. We wouldn’t want that happening mid-divorce battle, would we?”