The Princess Affair (31 page)

Sasha spent most of the seven-hour flight to New York City tossing and turning in her roomy, first class seat. All around her, passengers slept or watched their in-flight films, but she couldn’t escape the doubts that plagued her every thought. She had treated Kerry so poorly in those final weeks of their relationship. What if, upon reflection, Kerry wanted nothing to do with her anymore? What if she didn’t believe that Sasha would welcome the opportunity to free herself from the shackles of her birthright? What if she wasn’t willing to stand in the spotlight beside her and bear the inquisition of the press? What if Sasha couldn’t successfully engineer Kerry’s reinstatement as a Rhodes scholar?

When those questions sent her spiraling into a panic thirty thousand feet above the Atlantic, Sasha forced herself to think of happier things. Assuming that everything went according to plan, they could embark on a shared private life shortly after returning to the United Kingdom. Sasha’s personal inheritance was sizeable and would allow them to live quite comfortably, though in a manner worlds apart from the palaces in which she had grown up. That didn’t bother her one bit. They could pick out a small flat in Oxford to rent, and she could run her party-planning company from there, traveling to London as necessary. During holidays, they could visit the architectural marvels of Western Europe, or lie out on the pristine beaches of Mustique, or go on safari in South Africa.

Of course, it wouldn’t be perfect. The media would still hound them, even when Sasha was no longer in line for the throne. But after a while, she had to imagine, their interest would die down. Most importantly, she and Kerry would be able to be together, without royal imperatives or traditions getting in the way.

But by the time the jet touched down at JFK Airport, her anxiety had returned. Once she and Ian were firmly ensconced in one of those quintessential yellow cabs, she could barely sit still and tried to distract herself by gazing out the window. Kerry’s hometown of Pearl River was twenty miles north of the metropolis, just off the Hudson River. Once they were out of the city, the countryside rapidly became pastoral. A few orange and yellow leaves still clung stubbornly to some trees, and Sasha could imagine how beautiful the drive would have been just a few weeks earlier.

The taxi driver had looked at her incredulously when she had informed him of their destination, but after she paid half his quoted fare up front and promised a generous tip, he’d been more than happy to oblige. She had found Declan Donovan’s address quite easily online and managed to direct the cabbie there thanks to the map in her smart phone. Situated two miles outside of the town center, his house was situated just off a country road, in the shelter of a small copse of trees. The taxi turned into the driveway and pulled up next to a pickup truck with “Donovan & Sons Roofing Corp” stenciled on its door. Just the sight of Kerry’s last name made Sasha smile, and she shook her head slightly as she carefully counted out the foreign money. If only the rest of her family could see her now.

“Would you mind waiting, please?” she asked.

“Sure, sure,” the cabbie muttered as he counted the large stack of bills.

Ian opened her door and she stepped out onto the asphalt. She had agonized over her wardrobe before finally settling on a monochromatic look: black cashmere leggings, turtleneck, and cardigan, all by Donna Karan. Jimmy Choo pumps completed the outfit. She had a very stylish parka packed in her bags as well, but the day was mild enough that she didn’t need it.

Sasha was not laboring under any misapprehensions. It would be her words and actions, not her appearance, that would matter most to Kerry. But fashion was her armor, and today she needed to feel strong.

“Your Royal Highness,” Ian said as he walked beside her toward the front door. It was painted a deep red, and an autumnal wreath hung below the knocker. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping my bounds, but I just want you to know that I admire your courage.”

Sasha smiled tightly but kept her eyes on the door. “I haven’t done anything truly courageous just yet, Ian. Let’s put your vote of confidence to the test.”

Despite the flutter of nerves in her throat, she pressed the doorbell firmly. And waited. No sounds or movement came from within. Was no one home, despite the vehicle in the front?

“Are you from the press?”

Sasha let out a small shriek at the unexpected voice. To her right, a man stood near the corner of the house, a tool belt hanging from his waist and his curly red hair matted with sweat. Even through her surprise, Sasha could see the family resemblance immediately.

“We most certainly are not.” Ian sounded affronted. “May I present to you Her Royal Highness the Princess—”

“You must be Declan.” Sasha cut him off. “Hello. I’m Sasha.”

Declan’s mouth opened soundlessly, then closed. He looked at his feet, cleared his throat, and then managed to meet her eyes. His face was flaming in clear embarrassment. “M-my apologies, Your Majesty.”

“It’s just ‘Sasha.’ Really.” She extended her hand as she walked toward him. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you. Is Kerry here?”

“She’s working on the barn.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the back garden. The distant sound of hammering punctuated his words.

“I’d like to speak with her, if I may.”

“Of course.” He couldn’t seem to stop nodding his head. “It’s just around the corner. You can’t miss it.”

Sasha nodded, suddenly frozen to the spot. Her heart throbbed beneath her rib cage, and she licked her lips in a vain effort to restore some moisture to her mouth. She had raced here from across the ocean, and now she couldn’t make herself move? Her brain swirled in panic, the speech she had mentally composed in a shambles. She needed to pull herself together.

“Would you mind if I use your facilities, first?”

“Of course not. Please come in.”

Sasha trailed Declan inside, praying for eloquence.

*

Kerry glanced over toward the front of the house, wondering about the fate of whatever member of the press corps had been foolish enough to drive up to Declan’s front door in a city cab. After so much intrusion over the past week, he was not in a generous mood and had insisted on kicking them out himself while Kerry stayed safely on top of the barn roof.

With a grimace, she bent back to her work. Each time she ripped up another sheet of rot, she felt a small burst of satisfaction. There was nothing quite like demolition work to clear the frustrated mind. When Declan had casually mentioned that he was thinking of turning his barn into a studio, she had leapt at the chance to begin the project—to do something constructive and physical and real. The day was unseasonably warm, and she had stripped down to her black tank top. Both her shirt and her tan Carhartts were streaked with grime. She probably looked completely unlike a woman who had recently been hobnobbing with royalty.

“You don’t belong in that world,” she muttered as she pried up another decayed board. “You never did.”

Her first day back home had been the worst. While the citizens of Pearl River—many of whom were law enforcement officers or first responders in New York City—had banded together to frustrate the media’s attempts to get close to Kerry’s family, the sensationalist press had found other ways to intrude into her life. Declan had temporarily disconnected his land line, and Kerry had been obliged to buy a new cell phone. Her e-mail inbox had also completely exploded. At least she could take comfort in the knowledge that the media would soon forget all about her—especially now that Arthur had regained consciousness.

The thought almost made her smile. Sasha must be so happy. So relieved. Despite knowing it was impossible, Kerry wished she could be sharing her joy right now. She had even caught herself wondering whether Arthur’s recovery might free Sasha to reach out. But that line of thinking would only lead to disappointment. She had to toughen up and face the facts. Even before Arthur’s injury, Sasha had never been planning to go public with their relationship. The sooner she accepted that, grieved for it, and tried to move on, the better.

After replacing the warped metal with a new tin sheet, Kerry focused on the placement of her nail and then carefully raised her hammer. Maybe in some ways, this whole debacle had been a blessing in disguise. She hadn’t felt this close to her immediate family—or to her community—since coming out. She owed everyone a debt of gratitude for the way in which they had embraced and protected her, despite her notoriety. Giving back by helping Declan with his barn was only the first step. The elementary school had a leaky roof, the firehouse needed to replace several of its windows, and the library was sorely overdue for a fresh coat of paint. While she was looking for jobs, she could easily lend a hand around town.

With swift and efficient strokes, she pounded the nail into the joist. Once she was finished, she looked up again, wondering whether she should go lend Declan a hand. And then her heart stopped as Sasha walked out the back door of the house, skirting the edge of the deck and stepping onto the brick path leading to the barn.

The hammer slipped through nerveless fingers, and she barely managed to grab hold again before it could fall on her foot. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t blink. Her head buzzed and her thoughts were slippery, sliding away before she could grasp them.

Sasha somehow looked more beautiful than ever. Her dark, glossy hair curled down around her shoulders, several strands fluttering in the gentle breeze as she drew steadily closer. Dressed entirely in black, she looked both elegant and alluring. Never once did her eyes leave Kerry’s face. When she reached the corner of the barn, she stopped. Only twenty feet of vertical space separated them, and Kerry was suddenly possessed of the insane urge to jump.

For a long moment, the silence hung heavily between them.

“Hi,” Sasha finally said, sounding more uncertain in that one syllable than Kerry had ever heard her.

“Hi.” Tamping down the surge of hope that had accompanied her arrival, Kerry reminded herself to remain logical. That Sasha was standing in her brother’s backyard was nothing short of a miracle, but nothing had truly changed between them. “How…how is Arthur?”

“Still in the hospital, but he’s healing well. Thanks.”

She looked so nervous, and Kerry wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Even though that wasn’t her place, and never would be. “Why are you here, Sasha?” she asked instead.

“To apologize to you.” When Sasha ducked her head, her long, lustrous hair shimmered in the sunlight. “I’m sorry, Kerry. I treated you so poorly.”

“You didn’t. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“I do. I was too focused on maintaining my own image to think about how it must have felt for you to be ignored and marginalized every time we were together in public.”

Kerry’s chest ached at the note of self-loathing in Sasha’s voice. “Please, stop. You’re being too hard on yourself. I knew the stakes. I walked into our relationship with open eyes.”

“I don’t accept those stakes any longer.” Chin jutting out defiantly, Sasha crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Yesterday, I renounced my place in the succession.”

Kerry couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. As her legs wobbled, she sank onto her knees to maintain her balance. “Excuse me?”

“It has to be ratified by Parliament and approved by the nations in the Commonwealth. But I can’t imagine they’ll object.”

“But…” Feeling dizzy, Kerry gripped the edge of the roof with both hands. This was more than just about the throne. Sasha was talking about giving up her place in her family. “I object! Why are you doing this?”

“Because being in that line makes it impossible to be myself. I’m so tired of pretending.”

The current of fatigue in her voice was palpable. “Why do you have to pretend? Don’t you think your people would accept you for who you are, and accept you as their princess?”

“I don’t know. My father certainly doesn’t think so.” After a moment’s reflection, Sasha offered up a wan smile. “I’ll be making an announcement about my renunciation in a press conference at Clarence House tomorrow. Will you stand next to me?”

“Will I…” Kerry’s voice trailed off as she blinked in utter disbelief. “What are you saying, exactly?”

“What I’m saying, exactly, is that I love you.” Her smile grew wider. “Which felt really quite wonderful to say out loud, actually.”

“You love me.” Kerry’s ears were ringing, and much to her mortification, tears blurred her vision. Swiping her wrist across her eyes, she desperately tried to focus. “Are you sure?”

“Am I
sure
?” Sasha belted out that hearty laugh that Kerry had found so endearing all those months ago. “Oh, yes. I’m certain. In fact, right now, it’s about the only thing I’m sure of. I love you, and I want you to come back to the UK with me.”

Like the sun going behind a cloud, dismay suddenly crowded out Kerry’s joy. “But my scholarship. I don’t have it anymore.”

“I know.” Sasha’s hands clenched into fists. “I’m so sorry for what my father did. I want to force the Rhodes Trust to see reason and reinstate you. But I don’t know whether I have that kind of influence.”

“I suppose it’s worth a try.” Kerry wondered what Mary Spencer would do if Sasha approached her. Would she be persuaded, despite the King’s displeasure?

“Does that mean that you’ll return with me?”

“Yes.” The simple syllable had never tasted so good. “Yes. I’ll come back with you. Scholarship or not, I refuse to give you up.”

When Sasha twirled in a celebratory pirouette, Kerry laughed out loud. “Give me a second, and I’ll come down.”

“You’d better. Our flight leaves in just under six hours.”

“Sure of yourself, were you?” Kerry picked up the hammer and crossbar and tucked them into her tool belt before reaching for the nails. “Just let me clean up and I’ll be right there. Don’t disappear.”

“I most certainly won’t.”

As she worked quickly to gather her supplies, Kerry felt as though she was in shock. Sasha Carlisle was standing in her brother’s backyard and had just proclaimed that she loved her. Surreptitiously, she pinched herself. Amazing. This was no dream.