Page 26 of Thrones We Steal

“I heard about everything that happened. Are you okay?” Beck says.

“I’m fine. Just a little shook up.”

“I’m outside your house, but two angry-looking men won’t let me inside.”

“You’re here?” I ask. I walk to the front door and pull it open. Beck stands several yards away, apparently as close as Davies and Lane will let him approach. They turn when I open the door. “He’s my fiancé,” I say.

Beck brushes past them and into the house. Behind the closed door, he lowers his lips to mine. His kiss is warm and reassuring. He’s exactly who I need to see.

“I can’t believe this madness. Are you sure you’re okay?” he says.

I entwine our fingers and lead him to the back of the house. “Let’s go for a walk. I feel like I might explode in here.” Maybe I’ll get lucky and the shrapnel will puncture one of Bea’s lungs.

We stroll through the back garden, which is donning its summer finery in a seductive dance. The heavy-sweet fragrance of warm flowers hangs in the air.

Beck and I have learned to adjust our steps to stay in sync with each other: me, slowing my fast walk to accommodate his languid pace and him, shortening his long strides to meet my shorter ones.

“Do you have an enemy out to tarnish your name?” he says. “Who would concoct a story like this? And worse yet, who would believe it?”

Blood roars in my ears the way it does when you hold a shell to your ear. Of course it was rot. I’d never believed it myself. I force a chuckle. “A bunch of idiots, I suppose.”

There is silence for a few minutes as we wind through the hedgerow. “It is just a story, isn’t it?” His voice is hushed.

“God, I hope so.” It comes out in a single whoosh. My heart balances on the edge of a precipice, where the slightest nudge will send it toppling over.

“Have you spoken with anyone yet?”

“Henry told me there was an emergency meeting scheduled with the prime minister, but that’s all I’ve heard.”

“They won’t hesitate to throw you under the bus to save their own skin.”

He’s probably right. Isn’t it what I’ve suspected all along? “I’m already under the bus. A few more hits won’t matter much.”

“We’ll take legal action if we need to. Those kinds of fabrications could be considered libel.”

“Even if there’s truth to them?”

He stops, which pulls me to a halt as well. “What are you talking about?” The warmth has dribbled out of his voice.

“There is a diary. Maisie was the one who read it first.”

“You knew about this?”

“Only recently.”

“How long, Celia?”

“It’s not important. It—”

“How long?”

Damn it. I should have told him. “Since Friday night.”

“You knew the entire weekend and didn’t say a word? What was your plan?” Frustration rolls off of him. The heat of it mixes with the sunshine to create a stifling cocktail. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

What can I say that won’t sound foolish and offensive? Sorry, I didn’t think it mattered? I assumed you wouldn’t care if I made this decision without telling you? It never crossed my mind to ask your opinion? In the end, I settle for: “I was hoping no one would ever find out.”

“For Pete’s sake, Celia. There’s a chance you should be our queen and you thought you’d keep it to yourself?”

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