Page 15 of Forbidden Earl

The road was clear as he walked to his car, which made him laugh as he wondered if the naked women had carpooled, but then he sobered. He needed to find out what the doctors said regarding his grandmother’s prognosis.

He drove his black Ferrari home. How had Cassidy’s day been? Had she gotten her haircut? He looked forward to seeing her again tonight. And the next, and the next. Back on his estate, he handed the keys to Fari and headed inside the front door.

The doctors, one female, fiftyish and blonde, the other male and portly, were just leaving Grannie’s room and he crossed his arms while he joined them. “How is she?”

“She’s happier and that’s helping her,” Dr. Marston said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “She’s excited for your wedding with Lady Cassidy, my lord.”

“Can she go to the church?” he asked. “Last week she wasn’t to be moved.”

Dr. Harper patted the stethoscope peeking from his suit pocket. “We both agreed to sit with her during the ceremony and be on hand just in case. She’s stronger and was definitely negotiating to get what she wants.”

He glanced up at the crystal chandelier in the main hall to blink back grateful tears and then met the doctor’s gazes. “Now that sounds like my Grannie. Is it possible she’ll recover fully?”

“Last week we would have said impossible,” Dr. Marston said. “Now, I don’t want to give you false hope, but she’s stronger. It’s a good sign in recovery, but this might just be adrenaline because her boy is getting married.”

“Then nothing will stop the wedding,” Remington decided. “Thank you both.” He walked them out and then returned to his grandmother’s room and knocked before quietly opening the door. She had her eyes closed and seemed to be sleeping. He almost backed out, but she suddenly sat up. “I’m going to your wedding.”

“The doctors told me.” He winked and leaned against the door. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired, but satisfied.” She let out a sigh and lay back down. “I need a nap now but I hope you and Cassidy make it for dinner here with me again.”

“Of course.” He would agree to whatever she wanted. “I have to get my tux for Blackwell’s wedding. I’m sure the tailor will want to make sure that both suits fit.” He had a closet filled with designer suits and matching leather shoes. Ties, belts, cufflinks. Jeans, slacks—he liked clothes and was always conscious of his appearance.

Perhaps hewasshallow and vain as Cassidy had accused him of being for the past fifteen years.

With her eyes closed, Grannie said, “It is their job. The staff will call you if I need something.”

Now that sounded like her again. He’d moped for days when they said she’d not make it, but he hoped she’d stick around forever. His temperament had been one of Lucinda’s final complaints, not that she’d mattered. If Cassidy had been here, she’d have felt the same emotions he had.

He left the house where Fari waved him down like he wanted to talk. Remy stopped and asked, “Yes?”

Fari held his hat in his hand but stared at the ground. “Lady Cassidy’s car needs a complete rebuild. The vehicle is over fifteen years old and it’s not safe for her to drive. There are too many problems to be fixed. This morning I lent her the Mercedes.”

“Thank you.” His wife needed to be the Countess that people expected to see and she couldn’t do that in a broken-down Renault. “I’ll speak to her tonight. She can either keep the Mercedes or we pick out a new car for her if she prefers something else, Fari. I’ll take care of her.”

“Very good my lord.” Fari backed away from his black Ferrari, his duty done.

The stop at the tux shop only took ten minutes before he continued his drive to the palace. Prince Antonio should be around and he wanted to know the name of his supposed true love. It didn’t matter, not really, but the refusal letter this morning made no sense. He was on good terms with the palace as far as he knew. After parking, he went to the main door and asked for the prince.

Antonio came to greet him and shook his hand. “How are you?”

Remy stood straighter and kept a respectful distance—he knew the prince, of course, but they weren’t friends. “Getting prepared for my own wedding, Your Highness. I was confused though. This morning I received a letter from the palace.”

The prince stared at him blankly. “About?”

Right. Good. Perhaps the rejection was a paperwork error. He took the paper out of his back pocket and said, “I was denied the name of whoever the computer department claims is my match—it worked so well for you all that I was willing to try—thought it won’t change my marriage in two days, at this point. I was curious why I was denied.”

Antonio shrugged and handed the paper back. “I’ve no idea. My IT Department took a half day, but come with me.”

They walked downstairs of the palace. Remington saw an office for Prince Marco and one for Prince Lucio. They didn’t stop there but went to the end of the hall to a larger chamber across from a small prison cell that must have replaced the dungeon of ages past. “Thanks for whatever you can do.”

The small office with black leather seats and a mahogany desk that overlooked the garden was clearly used daily from the unfiled papers that showed on the shelves. Antonio flipped open a laptop and typed. “I don’t have the whole program on a web server but I know where the search history is. Give me a few minutes.”

At least this was an oversight or something bureaucratic that wasn’t personal—because that note had seemed personal. His duty was with Cassidy, but he’d asked for this after Lucinda left and now he was curious. He leaned forward in his chair. “Again, thank you for anything you can do, Your Highness.”

Antonio hit print to what looked like computer code. “I think I got it. Can you get the print out over there?” He gestured to a long, thin desk against the wall with a second printer.

Remington turned around and picked up the paper, staring blankly at the page. He read it again and a third time. Seriously? Cassidy Bright was his match? He blinked but there it was again. Her name. “This can’t be right.”

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