Everything had happened so fast. From the moment I’d met Alexander, he always positioned himself between me and the world. He’d been there to carry me away from the paparazzi. He’d stepped in front of a bullet for me. It wasn’t his protection that surprised me. It was Anders’ recklessness that did. I peeked over Alexander’s shoulder, feeling torn as Brex dragged Anders away. It was hard to think with the stifling amount of testosterone in the air, but I knew kicking him out wasn’t going to fix whatever was broken between them.
Only the truth could do that.
I ducked free of Alexander. “Stop!”
“Clara, he nearly hit you,” Alexander said, a dangerous edge to his voice.
“But he didn’t,” I said.
“Semantics.” Alexander jerked his head. “Get him out before I show him what a real punch looks like.”
Anders moved toward the door without a struggle, Brexton behind him.
“For fuck’s sake,” I said, finally losing it, “you are brothers!”
Betrayal flashed in Alexander’s eyes, but he covered it quickly. Lifting his head, he met Anders’ confused gaze. Anders looked between us, then to everyone else in the room.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded when no one spoke.
“Albert was your father,” I said gently. I took a step toward him, glanced at Alexander’s strained expression, and thought better of it.
“Todd Stone was my father.” Anders’s face hardened into stubborn refusal. I recognized the look. Alexander wore it often.
“She’s telling the truth,” my husband said. He came to my side and looped his arm around my waist as though he needed my support to get through this. “After my father died, we discovered he’d been taking care of an ill…another child—a son none of us knew he had. I began to investigate and it led me to you.” He cleared his throat, but his words were thick as he added, “You’re my brother.”
Anders looked around the room, his jaw unhinged. His mouth clamped shut, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “You’re telling me this is my family.”
“Yes,” I said. “I know it’s a lot to process. I had a hard time when he told me.”
“And when did he tell you?” Anders rounded on me. “Did you know the whole time?”
“I told her after your accident,” Alexander said.
“That ashamed of me, huh? You probably wish the accident had finished me off.”
“How can you think that?” I asked.
Anders threw his head back and released a shaky laugh.
“I’m sure you have questions.” Alexander was doing an impressive job of keeping his head. I took his hand and squeezed it.
Anders zeroed in on our clasped hands. He looked up and shook his head. “No, I don’t.”
“You must want to know about your father,” Alexander said.
Anders leveled a glare at him that sent a chill shivering up my spine. “Todd Stone was my father.”
He turned and strode out of the room. I started after him, but Alexander held me back.
“Let him go.”
“No, X.” I pulled free and ran after him.
I caught Anders in the White Drawing Room.
“Stop,” I begged him, unable to keep up with his long strides in my heels.
“Why?” He whipped around to face me. “You’ve made it clear that there is nothing between us and now…”
“This isn’t about—”
“What is it about, Clara? Am I supposed to hug you and call you sis and show up for Easter brunch?” He moved closer, leaving very little space between us, and lowered his voice. “Am I supposed to join the family and pretend that I’m not in love with you?”
“You aren’t.” I swallowed, praying Alexander hadn’t followed us.
“I am. Christ, I might not know much, but I know I’m in love with you.”
“Then you should go.” My voice trembled and he pulled away.
“I guess we won’t be one big happy, family after all.” He choked back a bitter chuckle, turning his face away. “Goodbye, Clara.”
“Goodbye, Anders,” I said in a small voice.
Before I could stop him, he leaned forward and brushed his lips over my forehead, lingering a moment too long. “Sorry,” he said, straightening up. “I had to kiss you just once.”
And then he was gone.
I watched him leave, knowing Alexander’s eyes were on my back—knowing he’d seen the whole thing. I was always acutely aware of his presence, but now I felt his gaze raking over me possessively. Sucking in a breath, I turned to face him.
Alexander’s stony face might have been unreadable to some. I recognized it as his battle mask. He was fighting to stay in control, the war raging within him. Norris appeared at his side along with Edward, and the two began to speak in low voices as my husband listened without a word.
They would need to strategize, of course. The information had been controlled and I’d just spilled it to an outsider they couldn’t keep quiet. I thought about telling them Anders wouldn’t say anything, but it didn’t matter. The boys would withdraw to the proverbial war room to plot.
“Just a moment,” Alexander said, cutting them off.
He crossed the room in four great strides and pulled me into his arms. His thumb brushed away a tear I didn’t know had fallen.
“X, I’m sorry,” I murmured, turning my face into his palm.
“Don’t apologize for my mistakes, Poppet,” he reminded me
“I shouldn’t have told him. It wasn’t my place—”
“It wasn’t your job to keep it a secret.” He kissed me swiftly. “I would, however, have liked some warning about you quitting the Games.”
“I knew you wouldn’t let me,” I admitted softly.
“I won’t exactly mind having you home, barefoot and pregnant.” He glanced behind him. “They’d like to discuss a few things.”
Security things, no doubt. They needed to plan what to do when my slip blew up in their faces. I nodded. “Not too late. I don’t want to sleep alone.”
“I won’t let you be alone or sleep,” he promised with a grin. He disappeared with a kiss, taking my heart with him.
I stood in the empty room, small and humbled. It was easy to feel that way under the gold leaf and chandeliers. But it was a symptom of something else. No matter how hard I tried, I didn’t seem to fit into this life. I was the insignificant nobody playing at being a Queen, and I was messing up at every turn.
“Fancy a walk?” a gentle voice asked. “Everyone’s gone off to worry about King and Country.”
I looked up to find Henry, hands shoved in his pockets and ascot undone. I’d never seen him looking quite this ruffled.
“I could use some fresh air.” I paused and reached down to pry off my heels. I sighed with relief as my toes sank into the plush rug.
“Someone will pick them up,” he reassured me.
At last count, nearly eight hundred people worked here, so he was undoubtedly right. “I never quite feel at home here,” I admitted to him, eyeing the shoes. “I can’t even leave my things lying around.”
“Maybe you should,” he suggested, offering me his arms. “The gardens?”
I nodded at the suggestion. It was early evening and not overly cool for March. The days had begun to lengthen, and so a few minutes later we found ourselves under the purple dusk of twilight.
“Will you be cold?” Henry’s forehead wrinkled as he looked at my bare feet.
“I have my own little furnace.” I patted my stomach. “I’m always too warm.”
We walked in companionable silence for a few minutes. It was early spring and the flower beds were barren, but there was something magical about the quiet. The grounds were dry, but the smell of rain hung in the air. We were in the middle of London and a world apart.
“Henry,” I asked, putting to words a question that had bothered me since Alexander had revealed the truth about Anders, “that day at the track, before the accident, you said something about it being impossible—that Alexander couldn’t know. What did you mean?”
“I think you already know.” Henry patted my hand with a sigh. “It’s nice to have it out in the open.”
“Is it?” I wasn’t sure that was true. A year ago, Alexander hadn’t known a thing about Anders. Now he had another family member to worry about, one who wouldn’t make it easy for him.
“It may not seem like it, but trust me, secrets are poison. They change you.” His eyes took on the same distant quality they had the day of Anders’ crash.
“So you’ve known Albert’s secret the whole time?”
“I knew all my brother’s secrets.”
“All?” I repeated.
“A King is burdened with many worries. Albert turned to me often.” He said this as if it were no big deal to cover up illegitimate children and God knew what else.
“I wish he would have talked more with Alexander,” I admitted. “I guess everything was different after Sarah died.”
His brows knitted together as he considered this. “Everyone believed Sarah’s accident broke Alexander’s relationship with his father. Albert broke it himself, just like he destroyed his relationship with Liz.”
“You said that before.” My mind drifted to Alexander and me. Albert had loved his wife. He’d spoken of her with a passion I couldn’t deny. Maybe her loss had shown him what he’d taken for granted, but Henry spoke like it was something more. “What drove them apart?”
“The thing that sets a sovereign apart. Power.” He looked down at me, his eyes narrowing. “You’re worried about your relationship with Alexander.”
I swallowed on the lump of uncertainty in my throat before I tipped my head.
“He kept the truth about Anders from you. I can’t say I approve.”
“You said secrets were poison. Sometimes I think my husband doesn’t know that,” I admitted. I wanted to believe we’d put that part of our relationship behind us, but could we ever, really? I was keeping something from him now, because I believed I was protecting him. He had done the same for the same reasons. “It’s difficult to know what to tell and what to keep buried.”
“Secrets don’t stay buried in this family,” he advised.
“Then I hope we’ve dug them all up.”
His lips twisted into a rueful smile as he looked across the grounds of the palace. His eyes were full of memories.
“I don’t care what this family’s done,” I said fiercely. “Alexander and I are going to change it all. Anders was the last secret that will come between us.”
“Oh, Clara.” Henry turned and patted my hand like he was soothing an innocent child. “Do you know how many estates this family has? There are lots of rooms to bury secrets and even more closets to stash skeletons. I’m afraid your husband hasn’t been as honest as you think.”