Page 38 of Royal Surrogate 1

Maybe.

“An arranged marriage,” Xavier clucks, rubbing chalk on the end of his cue. “I knew something wasn’t right, but I never would have thought you had it that in you.”

“It’s none of your concern,” I grumble, walking behind the bar to pour myself a large glass of rye. “If I had wanted your commentary, I’m sure I would have asked.”

“Why her?” Xavier asks almost off-handedly as he lines up his shot. “You’ve certainly had your choice of society ladies. Celebrities. Royalty, even. Didn’t you say she was a teacher?”

“A librarian,” I say, taking a long drink. Of course I could have arranged something with one of those women. But I wouldn’t have been able to get what I wanted from a relationship with them. I wouldn’t have been able to have a child without any strings attached. Not that it matters now.

“To each his own,” Benedict says, lining up another shot with his cue. “If it makes you happy, Brother, I wish you the best.”

Xavier grumbles something of an agreement.

“As long as you’re both agreeable with the contract, then what’s the harm?” Benedict, stands, looking over at Xavier. “It sounds as though it’s only slightly harsher than a prenup.”

“Slightly harsher?” Xavier laughs. “Do you think your wife would have signed such a contract?”

Now it’s Benedict’s turn to laugh. He grabs his glass from the bar, taking a drink. “Quinn would never have signed anything. If anyone was going to sign a prenup, it would have been me.”

“Exactly.” Xavier frowns, turning to me. “You’re certain you want to lock yourself into twenty years of marriage? Have you ever even been with a woman for twenty days?”

My stomach turns on itself. I’m not certain I have been with a woman for twenty days. Father took one look at my contract and decided it didn’t go far enough. He told me if I wanted a son so much, that I needed to have a wife to go along with the child. Having to be married to Renae for the next twenty years seems like a lot, but it will be worth it. I know it will.

I didn’t tell him that I’d already been planning to ask Renae to stay—to be a mother to our child. He hadn’t allowed me to get a word in after he’d found out my plans. Of course, there’s nothing in our contract saying that she must agree to this, but he used the escape clause I included in it against me. He says that now, if she won’t agree to marry me—and to stay married for a length of no less than twenty years—she’ll get nothing.

My father saw right through my facade. He called my bluff immediately, but my brothers have no idea, and if I have anything to do with it, they never will

But even worse, Renae has no reason now to stay, regardless of how my feelings about her might have grown. There’s only one thing I can do now. Only one way to end this.

I must get Renae to sign that contract.

CHAPTER 30

Renae

I have no idea what you’re supposed to wear to your first dinner with your fake-fiancé’s royal parents, but fortunately, Sophia can point me in the right direction. She loans me a little black dress of hers, and while it’s a little snug—she’s tiny—it’s not indecent. And it’s far better than anything I brought in my suitcase.

Of course, figuring out what to wear is only one-tenth of the issue here. The rest of it is figuring out how I’m supposed to behave in front of a pair of royals who obviously don’t want me to marry their son. Caspar may claim that the wedding is still on, but I’d be shocked if he’d managed to inspire a complete one-eighty of their opinions. More likely, he simply convinced them not to call the whole thing off and to give me a chance. Which means I need to work my ass off to impress them.

I sigh. Caspar has taught me a little bit about the manners and etiquette I’ll be expected to maintain while I’m married to him, but it’s still early in our lessons. And I’m not sure knowing which fork to use is the thing that’s going to endear me to these people.

If we were actually in love, this would be a little easier. If we could convince his parents we were enamored of each other then maybe they’d soften to the idea of our marriage. But while we’re getting decent at pretending to care for each other, I’m not sure the act would work on his parents.

I’m putting the final touches on my makeup when I hear Caspar return to the room.

He stops when he sees me, the hint of a smile briefly flickering across his otherwise serious expression.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

The words are missing his usual gushing charm, but somehow that makes them feel more authentic. My cheeks warm, and I start to utter my thanks, but he’s already preoccupied with something else. He’s holding a small stack of papers.

“I should have said something before,” he tells me, “but if we still want to go through with this my father insisted on a couple of changes to our contract.”

“You told your parents about the contract? So they know about our arrangement?”

He nodded. “It was the only way. But arranged marriages aren’t that rare among royalty, so they understood.”

“They did? Really?”

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