Ah.
Meg took a slow breath, trying to get her sluggish thoughts into an order that made sense. “Doyouhave regrets?”
“When it comes to you and Galen? No. Never.”
She had a feeling he wasn’t solely talking about the condom conversation, but she let that go. “I meant what I said. I trust you two. I have an IUD. I’m not getting pregnant without someone yanking that thing out, or I wouldn’t have agreed to go bare.” When he just stared at her, waiting, she huffed out a breath. “No, Theo, I don’t have regrets. Did the fact it felt a little wrong get me off all the harder? Fuck yes, it did. But I still wouldn’t have said yes unless I was willing to do it.”
He searched her face as if debating whether she was going to change her mind and yell at them for coercing her later. Meg could have told him it wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. She owned her choices, for better or worse.
At least she did when she made them with eyes wide open.
Finally, Theo nodded. “If you change your mind, no one will hold it against you.”
“I know.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Come on. Galen’s getting lonely in that big shower all by himself.”
10
“They took her to Germany.”
Phillip Fitzcharles pinched the bridge of his nose. He should have killed that bastard nephew of his months ago, a quiet accident that was very tragic and convenient. It would have saved him the epic headache the boy had become. If he was in Germany, he was searching for evidence that Phillip’s claims about Mary were lies. As if he could fake something of that proportion without the paperwork to back it up.
He had, but that was beside the point.
Theodore couldn’t know. It was impossible.
Phillip turned to face Dorian. Such a small-minded man, mean and ambitious. There was nothing wrong with ambition, but Dorian always reached too high, too fast, and he failed because of it. It was his ambition that resulted in his exile nearly twenty years ago—an order reversed by the current Crown Prince.
He checked his watch. The Crown Prince who would be there shortly. “They’re in Mary’s old house?”
“Yes. It’s owned by one of the many Mortimore sisters, but Theo is there with Galen and the girl.”
Dorian might be a monumental pain in his ass, but the man’s contacts were without parallel. Phillip paced to one side of the room and back. “You burned the clinic.”
“I saw to it personally. The records no longer exist.”
It wasn’t enough. Despite heavy bribes, the information was scattered and unreliable. There could be other copies of the records filed elsewhere. Dorian had his men do a cursory search, but just because they hadn’t found something didn’t mean it didn’t exist.
And if it existed, then Theodorewouldfind it. He was too desperate not to.
Phillip glanced at the doorway Edward would be coming through at any moment. They had to wrap this up quickly. The boy was already suspicious, and the only way Phillip had placated him was to promise that Theodore and Galen could come home after he was crowned—stripped of their respective titles, of course.
He couldn’t let it happen.
As long as Theodore was in Thalania, he was a threat to the crown. The people loved him, and he’d been raised to rule. He couldn’t stand next to the throne without overshadowing it.
Without overshadowing Phillip’s influence.
He moved closer to Dorian. “This can’t go on any longer. Do you understand me?”
Dorian’s brows drew together. “My son might still be useful.”
The only person who could successfully harness Galen was Theodore, but telling the man that accomplished nothing. Dorian’s ambition lay in convincing his only son to wed Camilla Fitzcharles. Despite the offer, it would never happen—something Phillip knew when he proposed it—but it kept Dorian from getting any untoward ideas. “That’s fine. If you can find away to separate them, do it. But my nephew and the girl need to be dealt with, Dorian.” If she was sleeping with Theo, there might be a chance she was pregnant andthatwas a nightmare Phillip had no intention of dealing with.
“Consider it done.”
“Good.” The door opened and Phillip turned with a practiced smile as Edward Fitzcharles walked into the room. “Good morning, Edward.” The boy took more after his mother than his father, lean and pale with a face that hadn’t quite lost the softness of childhood. Theodore had radiated personality from a very young age, sure of his place in the world, but his younger brother didn’t have quite the same presence.
The difference served Phillip well.
