Page 56 of Royal Trouble

Her chest tightened. He was her last—best—chance, and he was going to say no.

Shit. What was she going to do?

“The house is yours for whatever you need.” She sagged with relief as he added, “No strings.”

The fact that he felt the need to clarify that last point said a lot about their relationship. Or lack thereof.

“I know I’ve screwed up, Everly. I was a shite father, and you have every right to hate me.”

As if she needed his permission to feel her feelings.

“I’ve made some damn poor decisions in my life,” he said wearily, “but my biggest regret is that I’ve not had the opportunity to know you.”

Well, fuck.

She hadn’t seen that coming. And she sure as hell didn’t know how to respond. Or even how to feel. She had enough to worry about without him piling his emotional baggage on.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” she demanded. “You’ve had twenty-six years to get to know me. If you were so damn interested, you could’ve picked up the phone. Or sent a freaking card. Something. Anything!”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, but she wasn’t going to apologize for speaking her truth. Not when she’d swallowed it down like a bitter pill for so many years.

“You’re right, of course. I should’ve done all those things years ago.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Everly. More than you will ever know. I don’t expect you to forgive me, certainly not right away, but if there ever comes a time—”

“There won’t,” she said, cutting him off. He’d chosen this, not her. He did not get to lay his apology at her feet and expect her to do the work of fixing everything. “So, about the house?”

“I’ll have my secretary contact you directly to make the arrangements. Is this the best number to reach you?”

“Yes, thank you. I look forward to her call.”

“Everly?” There was that unsure tone again. “If you want nothing to do with me, I understand, but I would be immensely grateful if you could tell me how your mother has been. Is she…happy?”

Everly blinked, her anger deflating at the mention of her mother. “Yes, she’s happy.”

Or as happy as anyone who’d survived the Valerian court could be.

…

“Welcome to Scarsdale Manor,” Everly called, jogging down the curved stone steps of the illustrious Palladian home. Xander’s chest constricted at the sight of her. Though they’d spoken often in the last two days, he’d missed seeing her lovely face. They still hadn’t addressed their…disagreement, but nonetheless, she’d come to his aid when he needed her, and they seemed to be in mutual agreement to focus on the business at hand. Once it was resolved, though, well, they still had things to discuss.

Xander grinned as she rounded the bottom of the stairs, coming into full view. Despite the playful yellow sundress, she wore a pair of trainers and her hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail that suggested she was anticipating a long, busy day. Guilt pricked at his conscience, and he reminded himself that she’d agreed to help out of her own free will.

Never mind the fact that he’d given her a guilt trip worthy of the queen herself.

“This place is amazing.” He stared up at the stone behemoth in awe. It was a sprawling estate that had likely been built during the days of British rule. Homes like this had history, and they didn’t come cheap. They were family homes, usually passed down through the nobility from one generation to the next. He’d seen plenty of country homes in his time, but he’d never been to Scarsdale Manor. So how the hell had this beautiful, amazing woman secured such an impressive house on such short notice?

Valerian nobles weren’t exactly known for renting out their properties on Airbnb.

“Yeah, I guess,” Everly said, giving the house a dismissive shrug. “Come on, I’ll show you around. Your guests will be here soon, and I plan to make myself scarce.”

He started. “You’re not staying?”

It had never even occurred to him that she wouldn’t stick around.

Everly laughed, the light musical sound a balm to his presently frayed nerves. “Last I checked, stag night was about male bonding and whatever it is you royals do before you tie the knot. I don’t think your guests will want me hanging around gawking, though I’m sure it would be quite fascinating.”

He was less worried about her gawking and more worried about the night going to shit. “You planned this whole thing. What if something goes wrong?”

“Relax. I’m going to spend the night in the guest cottage. I won’t be far if you need me.”