Page 10 of Heavy Crown

“So, what? You were going to listen at the door for appropriate jackpot sounds?”

Brice laughs. “I will admit my plan to spy was not fully formed.” He nods toward Aurora. “That’s not Catherine.”

“Correct,” I say. “That’s not Catherine.”

“Father says the paper is running a story tomorrow morning about you saving some woman from her car just before it toppled over the edge of the cliff on West Shore Road.” He eyes me as though he expects the whole story to come tumbling out of my mouth.

“Seems someone sprung a leak.” My voice is tight. “How are so many people still awake and fucking up my life at midnight?”

“In terms of press leaks, this one is a beaut’. The future king being labelled a hero is not exactly a bad thing.”

“Even my scandals are top-notch.” I draw Brice away from Aurora’s door. “I need to get her clothes down to the cleaners, and Dr. Bennett should be coming soon to verify the hospital’s assessment.”

“Trust you not to trust the hospital.” Brice smirks and shakes his head.

“Oh, Alexander!” My mother comes down the hall with her arms flapping. She’s in her early sixties but her blond highlights conceal the growing streaks of gray in her brown hair. “I just heard. Are you all right? Saving a woman from a car going off a cliff? Then you brought her here?” She makes a tsking noise. “Your father has suppressed that last bit, but the press will want to speak to her.”

“She has a severe concussion, so we delay interviews or conversations with anyone until she’s feeling better.” I make sure to use the tone of voice that doesn’t allow for argument.

“Where are you going?” My mother falls into step on my other side.

“She’s going to need clothes and other necessities when she wakes up,” I say.

“I hear she’s been living with Derrick McGuinty,” my mother says. “Shouldn’t we let him know where she is?”

“No,” I say sharply. “She asked that we don’t.” Not true, but she did say she couldn’t go home. “We’ll send someone to the apartment to gather her things.”

“Alexander.” My mother’s tone is filled with warning. “She cannot stay here. The optics, especially given what we’re doing behind the scenes to find you a wife, are not good.”

“I’ll move her into a guest house then.” I wave a dismissive hand. “She’s not going back to her boyfriend or that apartment, so until she knows where she is going, she can stay here.”

“Alexander.” Queen Helen places a hand on my arm. “I don’t know what’s gone on tonight, but I’m not having you lose your head over some Canadian girl. Do you understand me? Bellerivian or royalty. Not some farm girl from northern Ontario.”

That gives me a moment of pause. Either my parents have been doing some very quick background checks or the press knows far more than even I do right now. Perhaps I’ll have to read the papers tomorrow to know exactly who’s staying in my guest bedroom.

“I don’t know her, Mother. No one is losing their head. She needs help, and I intend to provide it. End of.” I shrug off her touch. “It almost feels like you don’t think I’m capable of a kindness.” Except I’m not—not to this level and not for no reason. My priority is always the Crown and the way situations look as much as how they actually are. I’ve never been one to be ruled by emotion of any type.

At the hospital, I didn’t even tell Aurora my complete identity, and I made sure the hospital staff understood I didn’t want my “real” name used. They probably assumed I wanted my heroism to go unacknowledged, but that’s not why. I’m not sure why. As much as I’d sometimes love to be just Alex, that’s not who I’ll ever be.

“You have to admit, your behavior tonight is unusual,” Mother says.

“I second our mother’s observation,” Brice chimes in.

“It’s nothing,” I say. “You’re both reading more into this than you need to. I had a terrible date with an eighteen-year-old—thank you for that, Brice—and then decided to take the long way home along West Shore Road. We stumbled upon the accident, and seeing the way the car was positioned, Kane and I opted to save her rather than letting her fall to her death.” I’m making everything sound like a rational decision, but I have no way to articulate what’s been driving me all night. How do I explain what I don’t understand? “For various reasons, she didn’t feel she could return to her apartment, and since all of her belongings are at the bottom of the ocean, I didn’t see the harm in bringing her here.”

We’re back at the main entrance, and Dr. Bennett is coming through the front door with Kane.

“Kane, can you make sure Ms. Wilson’s clothes are taken to the laundry department? Dr. Bennett, you can follow me.” I turn to my mother and brother. “As for you two, make yourselves useful and find someone to collect some of Ms. Wilson’s things from the McGuinty apartment.”

“These are all red flags, Alexander,” my mother warns me. “We’d do better to buy her a few new things, and then she can go to her own apartment when she’s feeling up to it. Sending a royal representative will spark off a slew of rumors. As much as everyone loves a fairy tale, we don’t want to give the public the wrong impression.” She gives me a pointed look.

I run a hand across my forehead. She’s right. Whatever has dug into me tonight is desperate to ensure I can keep this stranger close to me. A ridiculous thought, but there it is. The idea of Aurora, a woman I do not know and cannot know, returning to her apartment and boyfriend should not send a shot of irrational rage through me. But it’s there, nonetheless.

“You’re right,” I agree. “Call your personal shopper and pick some things a twenty-three-year-old would actually wear.”

“Might be better if I call,” Brice says. “I can pretend like I’m buying something for a girlfriend.”

I snap my fingers and point at him. “Excellent idea. See? It’s all coming together. Nothing to worry about.”