Page 7 of Reveal Me
‘She won’t find out.’ I place the eyeliner on the brass topped dresser and stare at my reflection.
‘Where are you going? Is it safe?’ Worry bleeds into her tone. ‘Will you take Grant with you?’
‘Relax. I’m only going to meet my neighbour.’ It’s notentirely a lie. I spent the last few days googling Sean Beckett and his equally gorgeous billionaire brothers. They might be wealthy, but they’ve starred in too many scandals to ever be considered an appropriate match–even if they did have a title. Pity, because they have one hell of a gene pool. That’s one match I wouldn’t mind my interfering parents making. I would climb Sean Beckett like a tree.
‘You’ve been here barely a week, and you have a date with Sean Beckett?’ Kat’s hand flies to her mouth and the pyjamas fall to the floor. I stand from the stool, pick them up and toss them onto the bed.
‘Not exactly a date, more like a meet and greet. He runs some sort of secret, super exclusive nightclub, and I’m about to sign up as a member.’ I shimmy my shoulders as excitement ripples over my spine.
I’ve been back to the entrance twice since the first, once with Temptation, and once in the Range Rover. Father insisted we learn to drive, even though we rarely get the chance to drive ourselves. Both nights the dress code was the same—sensual, formal; the men always wear suits, and the women often wear masks, which is why I ordered a bespoke Venetian half mask. It arrived this morning; thankfully I managed to snatch it up before it reached Mrs Medway’s prying eyes. Crafted from the softest silk, it’s enhanced with small, crushed diamonds which catch the light. Strategically placed cutouts enhance my eyes.
‘You can’t be serious?’ Kat shakes her head and perches on the edge of the four-poster bed. ‘We’re in the literal back end of nowhere, and yet you still manage to find trouble.’
‘It’s not trouble; it’s just a bit of fun.’ My hands fly up in exasperation. ‘I’ll die if I have to stay holed up in here for the next few months.’
‘Well, maybe you should have thought about that before standing up Lord Montgomery the other night. You couldhave pretended to be interested in him—he could have broken you out of the house for a few nice dinners or the theatre or something.’
‘Pah. You know me better than that, Kat!’ I swat the air in front of my face. ‘I’m sick of “suitable suitors”. Sick of putting on a façade all the time. Give me something raw. Something real. Something utterly inappropriate for once.’
Kat’s eyes land on the dress hanging on the curtain rail. Its sheer ebony lace fabric is practically translucent. ‘That’s pretty inappropriate. The Queen would have a heart attack if she knew you were planning on leaving the estate in that.’ The Queen is the most controlling, cold woman on the planet. She wouldn’t give in to a heart attack. Poison probably wouldn't even take her out. To say my mother is strong willed is the understatement of the century.
‘Good job she’s not going to find out then, isn’t it?’ I shoot her my widest smile.
Kat stares at me for a long beat then exhales a weary sigh. ‘If they lock me in the Tower of London, will you bail me out?’
‘Oh don’t be so dramatic, Kitty Kat!’ I scoff. ‘Besides, if they lock you in the Tower of London, it’s because I’m there already.’ I wink, and she shakes her head again, but I know she’s got my back. She always does.
‘Do you want me to accompany you?’ she offers, stepping forward.
‘Most certainly not! I need you to cover for me. Keep Grant entertained.’ I wiggle my eyebrows. ‘Ask him to order the rest of the staff to stay away from this floor. And I’m going to need your back door key in case Mrs M locks it before I sneak back in.’
‘I’m worried about you.’ A wariness bleeds into her tone.
‘How much trouble can I get into out here in the sticks?’
She sighs, reaching into the pocket of her uniform and plucking the key out. ‘If anyone asks, Iwillsay you stole it.’
I prise it from her fingers before she changes her mind. ‘No one would expect anything else.’ Pivoting on my heels, I reach for the dress. It’s a Valentino imported from Italy, cut with a low scooping back. Its luxurious fabric hugs my figure and skims just above the knee line. It’s utterly unsuitable for a princess, and I love it.
‘Do you have the right bra for that?’ Kat stands, eager to help as always.
‘No, which is why I’m going to forgo one.’ I wouldn’t get out of my bedroom in England without one, let alone the palace walls. God forbid the staff should spot the outline of a royal nipple.
Kat purses her lips, and I’m pretty sure she’s suppressing a smile ‘Why couldn’t I have been assigned to Princess Patricia?’ she teases, prising the dress from my hands and unzipping it at the side for me.
‘She’s a bore, trust me. I’m much more fun.’ I shrug off my silk robe, and stand in just my black lace thong. Kat holds out the luxurious lace and motions for me to step into it.
‘There’s fun, then there’s downright reckless.’ She smooths the material over my hips and carefully zips it up. ‘Please be careful, Princess,’ she pleads.
‘I will. I’ll take the Range Rover.’
‘Come into my room when you get back. Just to let me know you’re safe.’ She squeezes my arm as I slip my feet into a pair of black patent Christian Louboutins.
‘I will, I promise.’ I take her hand and squeeze it. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me, just be careful.’
Half an hour later, I park outside the discreet granite structure, with my heart pounding in my chest. Curiosity rises like a tidal wave. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I fasten my mask over the top half of my face and suck in a deep breath. A hard hit of adrenaline races through my blood. I love the sensation doing something forbidden supplies. I live for it, in fact. There’s something so sublimely satisfying in rebelling against the role I was born into. Even if no one knows I’m doing it. In fact, it’s better if they don’t, then I can get away with it for longer.
