Page 99 of Royally Rivalled

“I’m sorry, Parker.”

“No, I sense I had many happier holidays than you ever did, love. It’s okay. I want to build something good—hopefully with someonewho cares. And maybe that’s you? Maybe it’s not… but I want to give it a shot. After a few short months, I’ve gotten closer to you than anyone in years. You get me.”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Here was the man who rarely said more than a curt word unless he had something of substance to contribute or argue about. Here was the Dickish Duke—now transformed into this divine, lovely soul. I was putty now, burying my face in his chest. Parker held me tighter, sensing I wanted reassurance.

“I don’t know what it is,” I said. “But I don’t want to give up. I trust you, Parker. It may have started as sex, but I opened up because I knew you listened to me. You never wanted to hurt me.”

“Never. There were times I wished you would have stopped being so fucking perfect and good at everything. But now, I love you even more for it. I admire you.”

Admire me. I swooned at the mere thought that a man—particularly this grumpy man—could admire me.

“Briggs put us together because he hoped we might understand one another,” Parker explained. “I wanted to prove just how different we were. I thought we had nothing in common. Now, I realise there is so much there.”

“Our dads,” I said quietly. “Our emotionally unavailable caretakers?”

“That and the pressure of marriage and swimming in an antiquated fishbowl. Life in the aristocracy is weird. So outdated. We’re both just nerds. Can’t they just let us be nerds and forget the titles?”

I giggled. “That would be wonderful. You’re a curmudgeon who hates social occasions. Somehow, despite your grumpiness, Parker, I feel everything with you. I dunno. I trust it will be okay. But I get it. I want better, too. For me, for them, for all of us. And I don’t know how to find that nerdy slice of quiet, but I want to try. If you’re game?”

“I am. We’ll have it,” Parker said. “I believe it, Astrid.”

fifty-five

PARKER

“Noneof you would last a minute in Lundhavn!”

Rick called to the lot of us. I tried not to laugh. The comical combination of his judgemental expression and the baby strapped to his back—chubby and asleep in a snowsuit—was too much. He was sosevereat times about things. This time, it was hiking.

In Britain, people anticipated a Christmas walk. They emerged from the house for fresh air, but the Lundhavian idea of a New Year’s walk was hardcore. We’d put Rick off for days but on the epiphany, he insisted we must hike. The sun shone even if the morning was slightly chilly. Astrid kept up with Rick—speed-walking. Alexandra struggled, looking as though she was contemplating divorce. I kept up with Ingrid and Odette but was about to drop back.

“Hey, Mr Von Trapp,” Ingrid snapped. “Slow the fuck down!”

“Ingrid, please,” Alexandra groaned.

Ingrid and Astrid were both hell-raisers, but it was the youngest Deschamps who had impeccable comedic timing. Alexandra said raising her was complicated because everyone laughed at Ingrid’s naughty outbursts, and she always put Celeste on edge. The girl was practically feral.

“Rick, slow down. Please,” Alexandra called.

“Fine, fine,” he agreed. “Was I going that fast?”

“Yes,” we said in unison. Well, all but Astrid, who moved like a gazelle any time of day.

I slowed.

“He’s insufferable,” Alexandra said. “And Astrid only eggs him on.”

“She can do the same in heels.”

Alexandra stopped, looking panicked, then raced off to the side of our trail. I watched in horror as she bent over and retched. Astrid flew to comfort her, but nothing emerged. Astrid shot Rick a glare. Did Astrid know something the rest of us did not - even Rick?

“I’m fine, I’m?—”

Astrid admonished Rick. “See, you’ve made her sick!”

“You were walking just as fast!”

They argued like siblings.

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