Free Royals Saga 3 Crown Me by Geneva Lee Page A
Authors: Geneva Lee
wedding?” Norris asked.
“It’s been a while since the Royal family did a goodwill tour of America.” If I had to cross the Atlantic Ocean to remove this threat, so be it. “He’ll never make it through customs.”
Norris said nothing, but I knew what he was thinking. Daniel wasn’t acting alone. Someone was backing him, providing him with help to stay hidden from the teams I had searching for him. It was why I’d been forced to bring in Hammond in the first place.
“And until then?” Norris asked. “He’s making his presence known. I don’t have to tell you he’s sending us a message.”
He was right. The threat was clear. Daniel was practically taunting us, and we were no closer to catching up to him. It was inexplicable. The man had no former ties to military or police. He’d taken a mathematics degree at Oxford. Yet he’d managed to evade us at every turn. “Now”—I straightened my tie—“I speak to my father. Arrange it.”
I sipped my bourbon. It burned down my throat, scalding away the sour taste of the last few minutes. Dropping into a leather cigar chair, I slowly took in my surroundings. I hadn’t been in this room since I was a child. Then it had been my father’s study. It hadn’t been used by anyone in years, not after my grandfather’s passing when my family had made the move to Buckingham.
Clarence House had been my childhood home. It was the only one of my family’s residences that truly held any pleasant memories for me. Happiness haunted its halls, a ghost always on my periphery that seemed impossible to catch.
Abandoning my drink, I moved to the large oak desk on the other side of the room. Riffling through its drawers, I finally found it. I took the picture of my mother out and carried it back to the chair—and my drink.
I’d lived without my mother for long enough that her picture usually only produced a mild ache of regret. Looking at her now, I saw myself reflected in her. Dark hair and brilliant eyes set against honey skin. I’d been blessed that I’d taken after her in the looks department. But it wasn’t only myself that I saw in her.
I saw Clara.
She had been our family’s rock—its center. We’d been off-balance since the day she died. I’d been young enough to not lose all faith when my mother died—she had been a piece of my life. Clara was part of me. I’d finally found my center again in Clara and the thought of losing her was impossible to consider.
“I assume you have a reason for hiding from your own party.” My father crossed to the bar cart and poured himself a drink. “And for calling me away from the guests.”
“I had no idea you were enjoying yourself so much,” I said dryly. “It’s particularly surprising given how much you fought Edward on using Clarence House as the venue.”
“Clarence House is an official Royal residence,” he reminded me. “I was simply adhering to protocol regarding its use. If the house were occupied by one of my sons, it wouldn’t have been an issue.”
It was so like my father to play wounded, but I knew it was merely a trap to lure me closer so he could attack.
“All the more reason it should never have been an issue.” We took sips from our respective glasses, staring at one another over the rims. His eyes darted to the photo I’d left propped on the side table.
“It’s a shame she couldn’t be here,” I said.
“Your mother would not have approved of this situation. She adhered to tradition.”
“She loved you,” I said quietly. “God knows why, but she did. She had no interest in tradition. Her only interest was in this family.”
“What do you want, Alexander?” he asked finally. “Or can you bring yourself to ask anything of me?”
“Can you bring yourself to give me anything?” I countered.
A muscle in his jaw tensed as he shook his head. “You know the expectations.”
“Let’s not pretend that this is about anything but wanting me to grovel. You have no
“It’s been a while since the Royal family did a goodwill tour of America.” If I had to cross the Atlantic Ocean to remove this threat, so be it. “He’ll never make it through customs.”
Norris said nothing, but I knew what he was thinking. Daniel wasn’t acting alone. Someone was backing him, providing him with help to stay hidden from the teams I had searching for him. It was why I’d been forced to bring in Hammond in the first place.
“And until then?” Norris asked. “He’s making his presence known. I don’t have to tell you he’s sending us a message.”
He was right. The threat was clear. Daniel was practically taunting us, and we were no closer to catching up to him. It was inexplicable. The man had no former ties to military or police. He’d taken a mathematics degree at Oxford. Yet he’d managed to evade us at every turn. “Now”—I straightened my tie—“I speak to my father. Arrange it.”
I sipped my bourbon. It burned down my throat, scalding away the sour taste of the last few minutes. Dropping into a leather cigar chair, I slowly took in my surroundings. I hadn’t been in this room since I was a child. Then it had been my father’s study. It hadn’t been used by anyone in years, not after my grandfather’s passing when my family had made the move to Buckingham.
Clarence House had been my childhood home. It was the only one of my family’s residences that truly held any pleasant memories for me. Happiness haunted its halls, a ghost always on my periphery that seemed impossible to catch.
Abandoning my drink, I moved to the large oak desk on the other side of the room. Riffling through its drawers, I finally found it. I took the picture of my mother out and carried it back to the chair—and my drink.
I’d lived without my mother for long enough that her picture usually only produced a mild ache of regret. Looking at her now, I saw myself reflected in her. Dark hair and brilliant eyes set against honey skin. I’d been blessed that I’d taken after her in the looks department. But it wasn’t only myself that I saw in her.
I saw Clara.
She had been our family’s rock—its center. We’d been off-balance since the day she died. I’d been young enough to not lose all faith when my mother died—she had been a piece of my life. Clara was part of me. I’d finally found my center again in Clara and the thought of losing her was impossible to consider.
“I assume you have a reason for hiding from your own party.” My father crossed to the bar cart and poured himself a drink. “And for calling me away from the guests.”
“I had no idea you were enjoying yourself so much,” I said dryly. “It’s particularly surprising given how much you fought Edward on using Clarence House as the venue.”
“Clarence House is an official Royal residence,” he reminded me. “I was simply adhering to protocol regarding its use. If the house were occupied by one of my sons, it wouldn’t have been an issue.”
It was so like my father to play wounded, but I knew it was merely a trap to lure me closer so he could attack.
“All the more reason it should never have been an issue.” We took sips from our respective glasses, staring at one another over the rims. His eyes darted to the photo I’d left propped on the side table.
“It’s a shame she couldn’t be here,” I said.
“Your mother would not have approved of this situation. She adhered to tradition.”
“She loved you,” I said quietly. “God knows why, but she did. She had no interest in tradition. Her only interest was in this family.”
“What do you want, Alexander?” he asked finally. “Or can you bring yourself to ask anything of me?”
“Can you bring yourself to give me anything?” I countered.
A muscle in his jaw tensed as he shook his head. “You know the expectations.”
“Let’s not pretend that this is about anything but wanting me to grovel. You have no