Page 74 of American Royals
Sam trailed along the downstairs hallway, lost in thought. She was debating whether to head over to King’s College and try to see Nina.
Sam hadn’t been able to get hold of her friend since the news about Nina and Jeff broke. She’d been calling and texting nonstop, but the only response Nina had sent to all her messages was Thanks for checking in, but I’m not ready to see anyone.
I’m not anyone, Sam had wanted to reply. I’m your best friend. Or at least she’d thought she was.
Best friends didn’t keep secrets this big from each other, did they?
Sam had to admit, she’d felt an initial twinge of weirdness at the knowledge that her twin brother and her friend had been hooking up for weeks without telling her—had been sneaking around the entire trip to Telluride, right under Sam’s nose. It was a little hurtful that she’d found out about their relationship from the tabloids, the same as the rest of America.
But that initial flush of discomfort was followed by an overwhelming wave of protectiveness. The tone of these articles, not to mention the comments, was absolutely vile. Sam wanted to publish a rebuttal, or better yet go on television and tell everyone what Nina was really like—but the palace’s press secretary had put a gag order on her and Jeff the moment the story broke. The best Sam had been able to do was post a flurry of comments in support of Nina, under a series of aliases.
She’d tried to get some answers from Jeff, but he just had a lost-puppy look about the whole thing. Apparently Nina wasn’t answering his calls, either.
The first morning after the articles came out, when she hadn’t heard anything from Nina beyond that single text, Sam had asked her protection officer to drive her to the Gonzalezes’ house. She’d elbowed past the scattered paparazzi to ring the doorbell. When Nina’s mamá answered, she took one look at Sam and shook her head. “She went back to campus.”
Sam nodded. “Thanks. I’ll head over now.”
“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Isabella said uncertainly. “Having you there might only make things worse.” She cut her eyes toward the paparazzi, who were still gathered on the front lawn like scavengers surrounding their prey.
“Oh—all right. Will you tell her I came by?” Sam had shoved her hands into the pockets of her down-filled jacket.
That was three days ago, and Sam still hadn’t heard anything from Nina.
She paused now at the entrance to the Grand Gallery, a long room lined with portraits of all the American kings, in order. At this end stood the massive painting of George I after the Battle of Yorktown, smiling benevolently, one hand on the hilt of his sword. Next came his nephew George II, a bit pasty and narrow-eyed for Sam’s taste, and then his son King Theodore: the one who died as a child, whom teddy bears—and probably Teddy Eaton—were named for. And so on, all the way through the official regnal portrait of Samantha’s own father, George IV.
Footsteps sounded behind her. She turned around, expecting one of the footmen or bureaucrats, and was delighted to see Teddy instead. He was walking slowly, lost in thought.
She and Teddy hadn’t gotten a moment alone together since their illicit kiss in the hot tub. She’d seen him a few times since their return from Telluride, always at crowded functions, when he was officially there with Beatrice. But their eyes would meet across the room, and Sam would know, with a hot glow of certainty, that he was thinking of her.
In those moments, every inch of her felt so eager and alive that she had to forcibly restrain herself from taking his arm and dragging him away with her.
“Hey. I didn’t realize you were coming over today.” She reached for Teddy’s hand, but he neatly detangled himself from her grip and took a step back. The motion was like a bucket of cold water tossed over her head.
“I can’t—not right now. I’m here to see Robert,” Teddy told her.
“Standish?” Sam wrinkled her nose in a frown. “What on earth for?”
“To discuss the press announcement.”
“Press announcement?” Sam asked blankly.
Teddy was silent for a moment. A series of emotions flickered over his face, too fast for her to read. “I assumed you knew. Beatrice and I had agreed to tell our families. But I guess she wanted to save the surprise.”
Sam’s heart struck a strange rhythm in her chest. “Tell your families what?” she asked, too quietly, because some part of her already knew and refused to face it.
“About our engagement.”
The shock of it vibrated through her.
Teddy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Beatrice asked me to marry her, and I said yes.”
Tiny white lights danced before Sam’s vision. She felt short of breath, like one of her ancestors, constricted in a corset and gasping for air.
Teddy took a cautious step toward her, but Samantha stumbled back, holding up her hands to warn him off. “I can’t believe you,” she said viciously. “Are you seriously going to marry my sister?”
He winced. “I’m sorry that I kissed you in Telluride. It wasn’t fair to Beatrice, or to you.”
“You can’t go through with this,” Sam insisted, ignoring his mention of the hot tub. This was much bigger than a single kiss. “Teddy, you can’t marry Beatrice just because your family expects it of you.”
