“You weren’t a chump. Not now, not then. And isn’t that a good thing to not remember?”
“I suppose, though I have questions and doubts.”
“You should talk to Coral, Gus. She can answer all of those questions. She’s the only one who can set the story straight.”
Leaving the abbey the same way he came in was the most difficult moment of his life. He shut down. Refused to talk to his ex-fiancée. He didn’t care about herreasons. Two years later he couldn’t bring himself to ask. In the meantime, she’d moved on. Recently married.
“I’m not sure I want to hear how I let her down. Or that she never loved me. I’ve put so much behind me I think it’s best to keep it buried.”
“All right, you’ve made your decision, now stand by it,” Mum said. “So off to Dalholm and Hadsby. It will be refreshing. You know how much the hamlet loves you. When I visit, the crowds are modest. When you go up, the crowds are so large they have to bring out the volunteer mounted police.”
“Yet I can walk down Centre Street without being accosted. Dine in a pub, shop without security.”
“But you will have security.” Mum used her queen voice to drive her point home.
Gus did love the small, coastal hamlet that faced the North Sea Channel and the eastern edge of England.
When he and John were young, Mum spent the summers at Hadsby and enrolled them in sports leagues. For their teen years, she put them to work on construction and grounds crews. As far as Gus knew, the beam he’d helped install at the Belly of the Beast, Dalholm’s oldest public house, was still holding the place up.
“One more thing.” Mum reached for another folder. “This is the final guest list for the ball.”
Gus scanned the list of confirmed guests. The ball was a pre-wedding celebration attended by family, close friends, and a few political allies.
“You can’t be serious.” He glanced up, having finished his inspection, and tossed the folder onto the heavy, hand-carved desk commissioned by King Titus VIII in the nineteenth century.
“I’m afraid so.”
“I’m to host a ball with my two ex-fiancées and their husbands?” He modulated his tone. “I don’t mind Robbi. While it was painful to part, we were on good terms. And I like her husband, Bennett. But Coral? No, Mum, no. She humiliated the entire House of Blue and all of Lauchtenland.” He shot to his feet. “Why is she even on the list?”
“I understand, Gus. The thing is, Coral and Robbie are very good friends of Holland.”
“What about the brother of the groom? Do his feelings matter?” He was more than willing to step up to his brotherly duty. But to live, dine, and sleep in the same castle, no matter how spacious and grand, with the woman who’d obliterated his heart? Who humiliated him and the entire family?
No. Just no.
“Holland should’ve talked to you last night. When she became involved with your brother, many of her friends showed their true colors and proved untrustworthy. Some even abandoned her. Said she was too high and mighty for them. Meanwhile, Coral and Robbi have been a huge support. Holland is concerned about your feelings, but, Gus, love, this is her wedding.” Mum reached back for her cup and saucer and stared at the fine bone china as if it contained some mythical wisdom and courage. “When Coral lived here, they became quite close. Now Holland’s marketing firm represents CCW Cosmeticsin Europe.”
Another downside of being a royal. Their world was very small. Everyone knew everyone else. Billionaires and world leaders were their friends. Of course Coral, an heiress to one of America’s richest families, would be a friend to Lady Holland.
This moment called for cinnamon puffs. Gus retreated to the tea trolley and filled a plate with his favorite pastry. A light, airy donut dipped in cinnamon.
“Do you know about Coral’s husband? Her mother tells me he’s an Uber driver, but he’s growing on her.”
“I may have read that somewhere.” Gus popped puff after puff in his mouth and instead of a comforting sweetness, the cinnamon tasted bland. Flat. He didn’t work hard all last year to get in shape only to lose it because Coral Winthrop might come to town.
“You don’t still love Coral, do you?” Mum’s question was laced with compassion.
“Love? No. I only recently stopped hating her.” Gus set his plate on the cart and dusted cinnamon from his fingers, then ran his hand over his hair. The long locks weren’t as fun here as they were on the beach, behind the bar. “But think about what it takes to unravel all the love you’ve given someone. All your hopes and dreams. Gone in a moment.” Gus dropped down to the thick, leather couch.
“Believe it or not, I’m not unfamiliar with a broken heart.” Mum sat next to him. Her hand was soft and warm on his. “You’re almost twenty-nine years old. Very much a man, not a boy. I think seeing Coral will bring closure.”
“What do you know of a broken heart? You met Dad, fell in love, and married six months later.”
“Take it from me, Gus, love is worth your effort. Don’t give up, darling.”
“On love? Too late, I’m afraid. At least for the time being. I’ve tangled up myself twice with disastrous results. For now, I’ll remain unencumbered. And I won’t walk the Blue family line either. Marriage without love.”
Mum brushed her hand over his head. “In case I’ve not said it in a while, I’m proud of you and how you’ve weathered your romantic recent storms.”
