Playing Dirty(138)

A look of understanding entered Michael’s face, and I could see that he believed every word; his own suspicions about me and his brother being confirmed.

“I thought she was going to kill me!” Alexandra continued. “But then she attacked this painting instead. I tried to stop her, but she was too strong for me.”

Michael patted her hand comfortingly. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

“That’s not what happened!” I’d been struck dumb by Princess Alexandra’s lies, but I’d found my tongue now. “She’s the one who slashed the painting, just so she could make me look bad!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Michael said. “Why would she do such a thing?”

“Because she’s crazy! You’ve got to believe me.”

“You’re the one holding the knife,” Michael said. “And you’re the one with the motive. I don’t think we’ve got to look very far to know why you might have a grudge against the princess and against my family.” He indicated the shredded picture. “I think we can count ourselves extremely lucky that you did this to a picture rather than my actual family. But don’t worry,” he said in a mock soothing tone. “We’ll see that you get the help you need. Guards!”

The guards, who’d been rather transfixed by this little drama, sprang to hasty attention. “Take her to her room and ensure that she remains there. We can call the proper authorities in the morning.”

“But…”

But there was no ending to the sentence. I went quietly with the guards, and I shot a last look back at Princess Alexandra and saw the wicked smile on her face. In a way, it was a comforting thing to see, because it strengthened my temporarily weakened resolve. I would not be beaten by that woman.

I knew everything would be okay soon enough, anyway. Andrew would be coming to help me any minute now; I knew it.

I just knew it.





Chapter 19

Andrew



Before heading upstairs to my room following the dinner, I sought out one of Princess Alexandra’s personal maids to ask an important question.

“What time does the Princess usually have breakfast?”

There were no hard and fast rules about when a person came down to breakfast at Wellington Castle—the food would be there whether they were early risers or more like me. This meant that, as long as I was forewarned, I could avoid having breakfast with Alexandra and wouldn’t have to endure another meal spent defending my crotch from her, like I had tonight. By the dessert course, I’d been close to stabbing her with a fork next time she tried it.

The maid just shrugged. “It depends what mood she is in, your Highness.” And that, I suspected, could be anything.

I suppose I couldn’t one-hundred percent blame Alexandra. My reputation as a womanizer was well known, and that reputation would’ve given Alexandra every reason to believe that I would enjoy nothing more than a bit of light hand-stuff under the table, perhaps followed by a quickie in the linen closet. How was she to know that that reputation was now obsolete?

Either way, she was now well aware that I had no intention of ever marrying her. I’d told her several times over dinner, even though she’d disagreed on the matter, and tomorrow, I was going to have to figure out a way to discreetly let everyone know that my mother’s announcement at the dinner table had been a false alarm before someone went and told the papers.

It wasn’t exactly a happy thought, but I was still happy in general—as long as Keira existed, then the world was all right by me. One way or another, Keira and I would be together, and what else could possibly matter?

This happy view of life in general was not destined to last long.

My mother met me at the top of the stairs as I headed up to my room. “I’ve been looking for you. There has been an incident,” she said.

“What kind of incident?”

“The kind which we discuss in private.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” I asked, not wanting to be near her right now. I was still very pissed off that she’d blindsided me at dinner with the bullshit announcement, but I didn’t want to make our relationship even tenser by showing her that.

“I daresay it can,” she said, her face giving nothing away. “But I don’t think that you would thank me for letting it, once you learn its nature. Come on.”

In a private study just off the library, she told me what had happened in the gallery, with frequent and robust interjections from Michael.

“She didn’t do it,” I said the instant the story was finished. There was no way Keira would ever deface a painting, and Alexandra had already proven herself to be quite the nutjob.