“He’s still asleep, Your Royal Highness.”
“I’ll wake him.” Gus. What did he want?
“Good, you’re awake.” Gus pulled John’s pillow from his head. He wore short trousers, boat shoes, a sweatshirt, and a slicker.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sailing?” John said, getting out of bed, tugging on a T-shirt before heading to the tea trolley.
“We’ve delayed an hour. Mum had a rough night and Dad wanted to make sure she was sorted before shoving off. And it’s raining. But the weather presenter says the clouds will roll away by midmorning.”
“Is Mum all right?” John popped a puff in his mouth. “Should I go see her?”
“The nurse is with her. Check on her this afternoon.” Gus sat at the dining table looking solemnly at John. “Have you seen it?”
“Seen what?” John fixed a cup of tea and dropped a few puffs on his plate.
“The video of Gemma?”
“What video?”
Gus opened his phone then slid it across the table toward him. “It’s all over the internet.”
John tapped the screen with a sense of dread. The play button waited on the video Gus queued up. Would he see what possibly was on the final page of her dossier?
John set the phone down. “Do I want to know?”
“Probably not but you should.”
With a deep inhale, John grabbed the phone and tapped play. Thenswoosh, a spotlight hit a long runway and Gemma paraded toward the camera, wearing nothing more than strategically placed leather straps. Her short hair was slicked back. Her features accented and highlighted with makeup but there was no life in her eyes. Vacant. She looked vacant. When she began her routine, John tossed the phone to the table.
“Is this a show in Vegas?”
“It was supposed to be but it never saw the light of day. However, one film buff saw it when it was online and downloaded it. He’s a porter at the Delafield. He recognized Gemma. He uploaded it early this morning.”
“I asked her to marry me last night.” Now he knew why she refused to tell him. Why she refused his proposal.
“You what?” Gus said.
“She turned me down. Joked about the spell being broken when the cathedral clocks struck midnight.”
“John, our life is not yourSwan’s Featherfairy tale.”
“It’s Rachel’s fairy tale now.”
“You know what I mean. Whoever you marry impacts us all. Impacts Lauchtenland. Never mind the gossip and scrutiny Gemma would be subjected to. When she goes home, all of this will mercifully go away.” Gus sighed. “Eventually. The Chamber Office line is jammed with calls. Hamish Fickle is out there asking why you brought a woman of the night to a formal, state function.”
“She’s not a woman of the—” He shoved away from the table. “I need to talk to her.”
“And tell her what?”
“That she’s still my best friend and I think, no, I’m sure. I love her.”
* * *
Gemma
He’d proposed. Of all the things she imagined between them, a true and honest proposal was not one of them. She’d not allowed herself to even pretend it was possible.
Then there he was, asking. While standing in the Heart of God. It was romantic and serendipitous. And not real. They were both caught up in the beauty and sensations of the Heart.
