“Everyone did, miss.How spectacular.”She poured a cup of tea and passed it to Scottie.“What would you like to wear today?”
“Jeans, sneakers, T-shirt.I need to pack for tomorrow, walk along the cliffs one last time, then join Lord Midlands at the Belly of the Beast tonight for a pint.”
“Very good, miss.I’ll tend to your laundry and packing as well.We’ll miss you round here.”
“Thank you, Soto.You spoil me,” Scottie said, raising the cover from a plate of eggs and bacon.
From the bedside table, her charging phone pinged.Please be Michael wanting to meet on the old Grand Portico.Or for a walk through the woods and up the hill.She’d dreamt about his confession of love, his request for her to stay in Lauchtenland for the summer.
When he’d delivered her at the Princess Charlotte suite’s door a little after three a.m., he kissed her goodnight, and a yes to his request nearly tumbled from her lips.
But she needed to talk to Dad first and—
Dad.She owed him a call.He’d just be waking up about now.A perfect time to chat.Crawling over the mountain of pillows for her phone, she swiped open to see Cap Henderson’s name on the screen.Opening his message, she saw two links.One an online Save the Date wedding invitation.The other to an AP article.She clicked on the Save the Date invitation.
“Is Lady Royal awake?”Scottie looked up when Michael’s voice came from the living room, her sleepy heart coming alive.
“Michael, I’ll be right out,” she called, smiling all the way to her toes.Collecting her tray, she headed for the living room.“Have you eaten?I’ll call down to Chef George for a plate.”
He looked good in his suit and tie, and his hair still wet from his shower.“Have you heard?”he said.“Has anyone rung from America?”
Michael came around the couch with an old book in one hand and his phone in the other, his countenance serious, his posture professional.He was nothing like the romantic hero wooing her heart last night.
“Heard what?”She set her breakfast tray on the round table by the window where the noon light, muted by gray clouds, filled the frame.“What do you mean has anyone rung from America.Michael, what’s going on?Has something happened?”
“Nothing from your father?”
“I missed a couple of calls from him this week, but with the Fickle hullabaloo and events around the ball, we never connected.Michael, what’s going on?”She placed her hand on his.“Tell me.”
With a sigh, he tapped on his phone then handed it to Scottie.“I’m so sorry.”
She read the story from theLauchtenland Business Journalas if standing on the moon.“O’Shay Shirts sold?To Boston Brothers?No.No, no, no, no.”She tossed Michael his phone and reached for hers.The AP article Cap sent.Was it related to this?
Cap: Did you know about this?Are you coming home?Just checking on you.
Scottie opened the link.Sure enough.TheHearts Bend Tribuneheadline for Friday, June 26, was the sale of O’Shay Shirts.The font size was like one used to announce a war.
“No.Impossible.”Hands shaking, Scottie dialed Dad, but the call went to voicemail.“Hey, call me.You sold O’Shay?”She tried Shug and Fritz, but neither one answered.“So the revised fairness option wasn’t a just in case.They knew this was coming.They had to have known.”She stared at Michael.“He lied to me.Theylied to me.What is with my father and secrets?My mother, which I now understand, I do.But Remi?Now this, this sale.”
Move.She had to move.But the cold quake in her legs against the burning angst in her middle kept her anchored in place.
“What, love, can I do?”Michael said.
“This makes no sense.None.”She tried Jack Gillingham and then Doug Langford.Neither one answered.Even cousin Blake was unavailable.“How could he?This is betrayal.Isn’t it, Michael?”She sank into the nearest chair.“The worst kind.”
“I don’t know the details, love.But yes—” He shifted the book he held from one hand to the other as if he didn’t know what to do with it.
“It is definitely betrayal.Did you know about this?Was it kept a secret so I’d stay?Or a scheme to keep me here?”
“Scottie, you know your mum would never conspire this sort of thing to keep you here.”He glanced at the book as if he wanted to say something, then changed his mind.“I’m certainly not privy to the dealings of O’Shay Shirts.”
“You’re a Cross man.You could’ve been given the inside scoop.Does Kate know?”
“Scottie, as these things go, no one knew but the reigning principals.Everyone is probably shocked.Her Majesty heard this morning on the news.”
She paced, dialing her father again.No answer.She returned to the article, reading more than the headline.“It’s been in the works for a year?How is that possible?”
“Why don’t you hold your conclusions until you talk to him?”
