Catharine & Edward (2 page)

“I like calling you ‘My Lady’. That way I can think of you as
my
lady, and
my
princess, even though you never will be. I know I shouldn’t think of you like that, but I do.”

“Not this again.”

“You know it’s true.”

Catharine lifted her eyes to his. “Do you regret our kiss at Christmas?”

Who could regret kissing her? “Never.”

“Do you regret all the other kisses since then?”

“No,” he said softly. “A kiss is not a lifetime, My Lady.”

“It can be.”

“Not for us. We’re hiding in a fitting room because we can’t be together in public. You deserve better than stolen moments.”

“I don’t mind these moments when they’re stolen with you.” She lifted up on her heels and brushed her lips against his. “I only regret we haven’t done more than kiss.”

Jesus, that line went straight to his cock. “You ask too much of me, My Lady.”

“I’m not asking nearly enough.”

Edward sighed just as his watch beeped with a message, and he flicked his wrist up to read it. “We’ve got to go. I just wanted to check on you before we left.”

“I’m fine and safe; I’m always both when you’re near.”

“I want to kiss you senseless when you say stuff like that.”

“My lips are always available for you.”

He let out a low growl. “Stop being cute.”

Catharine tilted her head, as if considering it. “Hmmm. Maybe tomorrow. I think I’ll stay cute today.”

Edward smiled, and shook his head. As he stepped away from her, he reached for the door behind her. After a quick brush of his lips against her hair, he opened the door and ushered them through.

He caught a signal from another agent and began escorting the ladies outside and into a waiting car. Edward rode up front with a driver, while the ladies remained in the rear; two decoy cars were also in place and left the same time they did. Edward spent the car ride updating Marcello on what had happened, and assured him that everyone was safe.

C
at
, meanwhile, spent the car ride assuring Rebecca.

“This is a disaster,” Rebecca muttered.

“It’s not a disaster,” Cat said from her patient perch next to her.

“It’s a complete disaster, Cat. The wedding is ruined,” Rebecca bemoaned. “How can I marry Alex without a wedding dress?”

“We can find another designer.”

“With three months to go?” Rebecca paused and placed a hand over her stomach, where Cat knew she held all of her stress. “Maybe this is an omen.”

“Don’t say things like that! It was not an omen of bad things to come. When we get back to the palace, we’ll get some tea and figure this out.”

“I don’t think I could drink tea right now.”

“Maybe a stiffer drink, then? We’ll need it before we tell Mama what’s going on.”

“Oh my God. I forgot all about your mother. She won’t like this.”

Since Cat’s mother, Queen Genevieve, had taken an active role in the wedding planning – to say the least – she definitely wouldn’t like this. “Look, we don’t have to tell her, at least not yet. Let’s come up with a solution, then tell her we’ve already got it figured out.”

Rebecca sighed. “I can’t see a solution right now. Bocci was temperamental–”

“That’s an understatement,” Cat interjected.

“–but he also had the experience to handle this. There are other brilliant designers out there, but I can’t trust this dress to an up-and-coming designer with little experience, and a future queen can’t get married in a dress not made by a Vallerian.”

Francine pulled her daughter into her arms. “There, there, my child. We’ll figure this out.”

“I don’t think we will,” Rebecca said, her voice muffled by her mother’s shoulder.

Cat rubbed a hand down Rebecca’s back. “It’ll be all right.”

Rebecca sniffled and sat back, pulling out of her mother’s arms. “Am I being ridiculous about this? Making too big a deal about it?”

“You’re not being ridiculous,” Francine said matter-of-factly. “Your dress was just destroyed, in front of your very eyes, no less. Besides, a wedding dress is important to all brides, and yours is a bigger deal than most. The entire world will be watching the wedding live. Of course the dress needs to be perfect.”

Rebecca dabbed at her eyes, trying futilely to keep her makeup intact. “What do you think I should do, Mama?”

Francine pursed her lips for a moment, considering. “I have an unconventional suggestion. You can absolutely turn it down, though, no hard feelings.”

“What, Mama?”

“Use my dress.”

“What?”

“Wear my wedding dress. I know it’s not nearly as fancy as yours would have been, but we can get it altered. Or, you can just buy a new dress, if you think that’s easier than fixing mine. You know any designer would do whatever it took to get the dress finished, for nothing else but the exposure they’ll get when you wear it.”

“You’d let me wear your dress?” Rebecca whispered.

Francine put a hand to her daughter’s damp cheek. “Of course I would. I don’t know that it’s enough for a future queen, but if it works, take it.”

Cat clapped her hands together. “That’s a brilliant idea. The press will never guess it and, technically, it was made by a Vallerian, correct?”

Francine nodded. “It’s actually an heirloom. My great-grandmother bought the dress from a local designer in Masillia, where they were living at the time. At least, that’s according to the family documents we’ve preserved.”

Cat nodded. “I think it will be fine. The people will appreciate a generations-old Vallerian heirloom.”

Rebecca dabbed at her damp eyes. “Are you sure?”

Cat waved away the comment. “Of course. Believe me, people love that sort of thing, and the public’s always loved when I’ve worn something ‘vintage’ or with a bit of history.”

Cat gasped, an idea dawning on her. “Oh! I know. The Royal Museum is doing a special exhibit around the wedding. After the ceremony and everything, we could loan them the dress along with the documents. We could ask them to do a piece on the dress through the years – from that local designer in Masillia all the way to the wedding dress of the future queen. We’ll do a whole press campaign around it, starting with the day of the wedding when you arrive at the church. If people don’t love the dress when they first see it, for some reason – though why wouldn’t they? – they’ll definitely appreciate it after.”

A sliver of hope bloomed in Rebecca’s eyes. “Do you think that could work?”

“I think it could.” Francine chuckled. “My goodness. My wedding dress in a museum? Who’d have ever thought?”

“Is the dress still in good shape?” Cat asked. “Does it need restoring? We would need someone specialized for that, if it does.”

“It was restored just before my wedding,” Francine said. “I’ve aired it out a few times since then to make sure it was fine, and to fix anything that wasn’t.”

“Really, Mama? Still, vintage dresses like that must be very delicate. We’d need someone to alter it, in any case. Someone we could trust.”

Cat tapped a finger to her lips. “I think I may know someone. I’d have to reach out to him, make him sign all sorts of confidentiality clauses before I told him. You needn’t worry though; he’s nothing like Bocci.”

Francine gave her an appraising look. “I wonder why you’ve never started your own fashion line, My Lady?”

Cat blinked, her entire body stiffening. “Well, I’ve, er, designed, yes. However, that was with well-established designers. I haven’t done much designing and sewing on my own over the years.” At least none that she would admit to. Though she’d studied design at university, she’d never thought to pursue it full time. She was a princess, after all, and Alex had needed her help with royal duties.

A princess with a dream was often doomed to bad luck.

Rebecca smiled for the first time in hours. “I think that’s a great idea. You should do it, Cat, if you want to.”

Fear, pure and simple, coursed through her. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll be brilliant at it, My Lady.”

Time to change the subject. “Perhaps. Anyway, let’s focus on your dress. Francine, why don’t you describe it for us? Then, we can take a look at it once we return to the palace.”

Cat listened to Francine talk about the dress. When Cat caught sight of Rebecca brushing away some lingering tears, Cat felt swamped with both empathy and guilt. Rebecca deserved better than to have her wedding dress destroyed. Rebecca even deserved a better maid of honor than her.

Cat remembered all too well the poor way she’d treated Rebecca when she had fallen in love with her brother. Though they’d both forgiven Cat for her actions, Cat hadn’t forgiven herself quite yet. If it hadn’t been for her, then maybe Rebecca wouldn’t have run from the palace, and straight into the clutches of a twisted man who had been bent on destroying Valleria.

That was the past, Cat reminded herself. Her friend and almost sister needed her, and Cat wouldn’t let her down.

Not again.

C
at heard
Edward’s footsteps behind her. Since their kiss a few months ago – truthfully, even before then – she could pick out the tread of his determined feet nearby. If she couldn’t see him, her other senses seemed to heighten and search for him.

It was no less true now, even with five other Royal Protection agents surrounding her, Rebecca, and Francine as they entered the Royal Wing of the palace, and turned left towards the royal apartments within.

“Papa should be bringing up the dress to my apartment soon,” Rebecca said.

“Will it be safe there?” Cat asked. “I mean, from Alex? We wouldn’t want him to see the dress.”

Rebecca approached her apartment door and the agent outside nodded once and opened it for them. “I’ll make sure he stays away. We can keep it in one of the guestrooms. I just don’t want anything to happen to it, and I’d like to keep it close. Trust me, I can convince Alex.”

“Convince me of what?” a deep voice asked. Alex appeared from around a corner, dressed for work in a crisp suit and with a tie that matched exactly with Rebecca’s dress.

Rebecca smiled, as she usually did when Alex was near, but this time the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Cat supposed it was the worry about her dress, and she knew Alex would miss nothing when it came to his fiancée, especially if she was unhappy.

A crease appeared between Alex’s brows. “What’s wrong, darling?”

Rebecca walked into his arms, which automatically wound around her. “I thought you were in meetings all day.”

“I needed something from my home office. Now, what’s going on?” Alex’s eyes flicked to Cat and Francine, then the agents nearby, before settling on Rebecca again. “Darling?” he asked again softly.

Rebecca sighed and buried herself against Alex. “Wedding problems.”

“Tell me the problem, and we’ll fix it.”

“You can’t fix this one, though Mama seems to have a good solution,” Rebecca said as she gestured to Francine.

“Then what’s wrong? You’re sad, darling. I don’t like to see you sad.”

Cat knew Rebecca was trying to avoid telling her extremely protective fiancé what had happened, as he’d likely overreact, so Cat spoke up. “It’s the wedding dress, Alex.”

Alex blinked. “The wedding dress?”

Cat nodded. “The designer – being a complete diva-tistical ass – went crazy and attacked it with a pair of scissors.”

“What?” Alex asked in a low, dark voice.

“Right in front of us.”

“What?” Alex’s voice fell even lower, his face hard as cement, and his dark eyes pools of black ice.

“And he destroyed Rebecca’s pin, too.”

Alex’s gaze fell to Rebecca’s dress. “I noticed it was gone, but I thought you’d, perhaps, taken it off.” His gaze narrowed on the agents in the room. “And where the hell were all of you when this was happening?”

“They subdued him, Alex,” Cat chimed in, her own feeble attempt to protect Edward, she supposed. “As quickly as they could, but it was still too late for the dress.”

Alex ignored his twin and kept his eyes locked on the agents. “When did this happen?”

Cat sighed; she knew better than anyone Alex was impossible when it came to protecting the ones he loved. “Just a few hours ago. We came straight back to the palace after the agents secured everything.”

Alex’s granite gaze flickered between the two agents who were assigned to Rebecca, agents Alex had handpicked himself. Cat knew he would see this incident as his failure to protect his fiancée. “Why wasn’t I informed of this the instant it happened? I’ll be speaking to Marcello about both of you, and the others who were there. I want a full report by close of business today. Am I clear?”

A chorus of staggered ‘Yes, Your Highness’ swept through the room.

“Alex,” Rebecca said softly, and Alex’s gaze finally broke as he looked at her. “Let’s put this behind us.”

“That fucking asshole could have hurt you.”

“Alex.”

“Even more, he irreparably damaged your wedding dress and your beloved pin. He’s done. I’ll make sure of it. He made a threat against the crown, and I can exile him for that.”

Rebecca huffed a laugh. “Oh, Alex. Please don’t. You’ll only bring him more attention, which he wants, and, technically, I’m not a member of the royal family yet. I’m sure by now he’ll have realized what a terrible mistake he made.”

“Not only that,” Cat said with a smug look. “You don’t need to ruin him, because I’ll do it for you.”

“I doubt I’ll find that as satisfying, Cat, but how exactly to do you plan to do that?” he asked.

Cat straightened her back even more and said, with incredible regality, “You forget that I, Princess Catharine Victoria Santoro di Valleria, am one, if not
the,
fashion trendsetter in the country.” Cat ignored the indulgent smiles of those in the room and kept talking. “If I decide a fashion designer is done, I only need to make a few subtle statements and no one will buy them.”

Alex sighed. “Definitely not as satisfying.”

“Rebecca has enough on her plate without worrying about you going crazy.”

Alex gazed at Rebecca, one of his hands lifting to brush a lock of her hair back and skim her cheek. “Am I worrying you, darling?”

“Please listen to what’s Cat saying. She’ll take care of Alberto Bocci. I have a much more important job for you.”

Alex’s brow lifted. “What’s that?”

“Avoiding our guestrooms until after the wedding.”

“Pardon?”

Rebecca, her arms still linked around Alex, gestured with her head to Francine. “Mama has an idea for a dress, and it’s coming up now. After what happened, I’d like to keep the dress close to me, but I won’t do it if you can’t keep your inquisitive eyes from it.”

“That is one thing you don’t need to worry about. Despite what you may think, I’m looking forward to being surprised by you on our wedding day.”

Rebecca’s lips curved up. “Really?”

Alex, darkness gone, smiled back at his love. “Of course. I’ll admit, it will be a temptation, but I’m sure you’ll find ways to distract me until the wedding.”

While Rebecca giggled, Cat rolled her eyes disbelievingly. “Well, I don’t trust you not to peek, so I’m going to have Marcello set fingerprint scanners outside all the guestrooms so you can’t get in.”

“That won’t work. I could still use the secret passageways, if I were so inclined.” The secret hallways snaked through the entire palace; it had only been a few months ago that their existence had been revealed to the public during a live broadcast while their brother, Nate’s, and their father, Gabriel’s, lives hung in the balance.

Cat waved away his suggestion. “You won’t have access once Marcello is through with them.”

“This must be some dress,” Alex muttered.

“It is, if I do say so myself. It was my wedding dress,” Francine said proudly, then frowned. “Oh, dear. You haven’t seen pictures of it, have you?”

“Perhaps, when I’ve visited your home. You have your wedding pictures up, don’t you?”

“We do, but we’ll take them down today, just in case you come by before the wedding.”

Rebecca pursed her lips. “Are you sure you don’t remember it? If you do, we’ll have to think of something else.”

“Even if I do remember seeing your mother wearing it in a picture, I’ve never seen you in this dress, have I?”

“No.”

“Then we’re fine. Have the press got wind of what happened? If so, I’ll need to let Tavin know,” Alex said, referring to his chief of staff.

Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t believe so, unless Bocci’s staff has let it leak. They all signed pretty strict non-disclosure agreements so, if they did reveal anything, we could go after them.”

“I’ll give Tavin an alert all the same.”

“Feeling better?” Rebecca asked him.

“I should be asking you that.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, as far as he’d go with so many others in the room. He brushed his lips against hers once more, then pulled back. “Now we’re both better.”

A knock sounded at the apartment door and one of the agents confirmed it was Ettore, Rebecca’s father.

Rebecca pushed against Alex’s broad chest. “Use the secret passageways to leave. Papa’s got the dress with him.”

Alex smiled. “It would be rude not to greet my future father-in-law when he stops by for a visit.”

Rebecca pushed him futilely again. “Maybe another time it would be, but not now.”

“I don’t know, darling,” he teased.

Rebecca stopped pushing and gave him a long look. Then she stepped up on her tiptoes and whispered something in his ear, which made Alex narrow his eyes. “You wouldn’t,” he muttered.

“Try me,” she whispered, loud enough for them all to hear.

After a moment, Alex cursed and stepped back. “You’re lucky I need to leave to catch my next meeting.”

“I am lucky; I have you,” Rebecca said with a soft smile.

Alex grinned. “Bye, darling.”

She gave him a small wave as he turned down the hallway towards one of the secret entrances.

“What did you say to him?” Cat asked.

“It’s not for sisterly ears.”

Cat shook her head. “Ew. I do not need to hear those kinds of things about my brother.”

Rebecca chuckled and signaled for the agents to let her father inside. “Come on then. My wedding dress awaits.”

* * *

A
few hours later
, Edward followed Catharine down the hall as they made their way to her apartments. Her phone rang, and he got a brief look at the screen before she swiped to answer it; the caller was another European princess.

As Catharine’s voice filled the hall, he wondered again if he should quit. He could move closer to his sister and nieces, work with the best men he knew in their own security company or, at the very least, transfer protection detail to another royal.

He’d been offered a transfer before and had not taken it. He’d wanted to stay near Catharine. Now, maybe, he was better off without her. At least, she was definitely better off without him. If they stayed together, his past would only come back to haunt her.

It certainly still haunted him.

“Bea, I know you’re fond of Bocci’s work, but I’m not convinced myself,” Cat said, her voice low, yet still carrying through the old stone halls. “I’ve only worn a few of his evening gowns the last few years, and I doubt I’ll wear more.” A pause. “Well, you didn’t hear it from me, and this is completely a rumour, but I heard he went crazy and started tearing up all of his dresses. I mean, my word, who wants to deal with such a temperamental designer?”

Edward clocked a member of the kitchen staff further down the hall, who was making his way towards them while pushing a dining cart. Edward shifted closer to Catharine though she was none the wiser. He didn’t recognize the man pushing the cart, and he knew the face of every staff member assigned to the Royal Wing of the palace.

He never took chances.

Especially not when it came to her.

“Yes, well, if the rumours are true, you’d be wise to avoid him.” She laughed softly, the sound hitting his gut. “So true.”

As the man approached, his face was downcast, as if avoiding the cameras. Edward tapped a code onto the screen of his watch, and agents stationed further down the hall came towards them. Why they didn’t flag him as he passed would be a question for later.

He saw one agent lift a hand to his ear and Edward knew help was on the way.

But would it be fast enough?

He placed his hand on Catharine’s arm and squeezed gently. She gasped as her face whirled towards his, and her eyes widened at the look on his face. “Bea, I’ve got to go. Yes. Love to all, darling. Uh-huh. Buh-bye.” With a fearful whisper she asked, “What’s going on?”

“Go into the next apartment we pass and stay there until another agent arrives,” he murmured as he let go of her arm. He grasped the doorknob, which contained a built-in fingerprint scanner, something only security and top royals knew, and the door clicked open.

“This is Marcello and Grace’s apartment,” Catharine hissed. “I can’t just go in.”

“In. Now,” he said brooking no argument.

Lady Grace came into the foyer with wide eyes. If she was in there, her apartment would likely be clean of other threats; he had no time to sweep it now and confirm.

Catharine gave Edward a frightened look that felt like another kick to his gut, but she went inside and he heard the lock click behind her.

Edward turned and took a first moment to assess the approaching man. Straight, chin-length inky black hair, slightly greasy. He was wearing a white chef’s coat – which didn’t match the coats kitchen staff wore, though he wasn’t sure why – and it was very loose on him. If his arms and neck were any indication, his body was slim. Assuming his coat wasn’t hiding an explosive device, Edward could take him down.

In the next moment, Edward assessed the cart. The pressed cloth covering it could easily hide someone underneath, and the large, silver-domed plate on top was a convenient, easy hiding place for a gun.

How the fuck had he gotten into the Royal Wing of the palace?

By the third moment, Edward had drawn his pistol, pointing it forward but down. “Step away from the cart and put your hands on the wall.”