A Love that Endures 3 Page 4

  “As for me?” Giles continued. David furrowed his brow. It was the first time he’d heard any of Giles’s history, knowing the man to be as private as he himself was, or otherwise plain too drunk to talk much. “Nobody even wants to hear about me. But it’s been almost a decade since the business went bust, my wife left me, and the kids stopped taking my calls.”

  The cold air around the fire was quiet, save for the occasional pop and crackle of the wet wood and pieces of plastic burning in the barrel. David waited patiently for Giles to conclude.

  “What I’m saying is, our stories get old and boring. And we’ve all heard ‘em a thousand times. But yours is new. Exciting. Different. So you can’t blame us for wanting to talk about it.”

  David took a deep breath. He couldn’t argue with Giles’s reasoning.

  “Sorry, David,” Tina offered after a long silence. “Don’t mean nothing by it. Giles is right. It’s just interesting, is all.”

  “Yeah, a princess! Pretty wizard, if you ask me,” Mick said. “What was she like, David?”

  David looked around at the faces around the fire. With the exception of Aggie, who had a decent excuse, everyone looked enraptured by the possibility of hearing the story. And while he still didn’t feel that he owed it to them, he also couldn’t really see how it would make anything worse.

  David sighed. “She was . . . perfect.”

  Suddenly the memories rushed back to him, threatening to overcome him with emotion and longing. In his mind, he could see Katy the way he most liked to think of her: smiling, loving, happy to see him and be near him. Katy with snowflakes on her dark lashes, as he kissed her for the first time in Northern Lorria. Katy with her coy smile as they traded jokes and innuendos in her kitchen. Katy looking up at him hungrily after they shared a passionate kiss. A far cry from their last few encounters . . .

  “Is it true?” Tina pressed. “What they was saying in the papers? What you done to her?”

  David shook his head. “No. No, it wasn’t true. I think her parents were working against me because I was just a commoner and she was . . . Katy. They needed to get me away from her, and they succeeded.”

  “What about the other stuff?” Tina continued. “About the drugs?”

  “C’mon, lass. Really? Look at ‘im!” Mick said rousingly, holding out his hand at David. “No more a dealer than me Aunt Midge. They was obviously putting out lies.”

  David managed a laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Can’t say I would’ve been very good at the job.”

  “Don’t seem right,” Tina added sadly. “Getting away with ruining a man’s life like that, all ‘cause you’re a royal.”

  David shrugged. “Yeah, well. That’s how it is. Not much I can do about it now.”

  “Did you ever want to get back at ‘em? Revenge, like?” Mick asked.

  David thought back to his long, dark days in a Massachusetts prison, obsessing over the need for exoneration, no matter the cost. “For a while,” he admitted. “But that’s a hard fight. One I know all too well. Frankly, it’s better to just move on.” Realizing the irony, he added, “Only I guess that isn’t so easy to do as a convict. Not to mention the guy who broke Princess Katerina’s heart.”

  “Didn’t she want to ‘ear your side of the story, though?” Mick pressed. “Can’t imagine just taking the word of some know-it-all judge and lawyers.”

  David smirked to himself. Probably why you have a record, mate.

  “I don’t know exactly what happened after I was arrested,” David replied. “But I think people were intentionally keeping us from contacting each other. She probably got overwhelmed by everything that was happening and took my silence as evidence of guilt.”

  The thought of Katy in Lorria, so far away from him, thinking that he’d ghosted her, that he hadn’t wanted to call or text her back, losing all hope . . . David had stayed awake for long hours tormenting himself with that image, and in truth it had never lost its sting.

  “It’s a shame that poor girl doesn’t know,” Giles said softly, his breath forming little puffs of visible air in front of him.

  “It is,” David replied, and even next to the stinking fire, he felt as though the temperature around him had dropped, cold closing around him at the thought. “But it’s too late to do anything about it now.” He looked down at his hands and grew quiet.

  “You still love her.”

  David looked up. Ms. Jenson was awake, staring across the fire at David, her wizened eyes lit by the flames. David smiled gently in return. It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes. Always.”

  “Then it’s never too late,” Ms. Jenson replied.

  David felt something stir in his chest. But before he could respond, he saw two men approach the fire from the other side.

  “Hey, what happened to the heater?” Charles asked.

  Mick was up and out of his seat before David could even react. He yanked Charles up, pulling him over by the collar.

  “You ought to know!” Mick growled.

  “Mick!” Giles called out.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Charles replied, pushing Mick away.

  “Wouldn’t be the first thing you nicked from us. Get a lot for it, eh? At our expense?” Mick was red-faced and breathing hard.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, knobhead. I’ve been with me mate Rufus. He can vouch for me!” Charles said, thrusting his friend forward.

  The other man looked to be in better health than Charles, less thin, his motions less jerky. David squinted at him in the flickering light. His clothes were disheveled but in good shape, not grimy and dusty. He didn’t look like he belonged at the camp at all, really.

  “It’s true,” Rufus said. He looked uncomfortable to have the spotlight on him. “He was with me since last night. I . . . I called him for help when my parents kicked me out.”

  Mick grumbled something and Charles shouted at him again, but David didn’t care to see any more. He stood and made for the car park again, to tuck in for the night. When the conversation around the fire got too heated, the police were never far behind. David didn’t feel like getting roughed up or talked down to.

  Not again.

  * * *

  “Yo, David. Lad!”

  David groggily came to, sitting up and squinting in the darkness. He knew immediately, from his confusion and the lighting in his shelter, that it was very, very late or very, very early. Depending on how you looked at it.

  “Mick? Bugger off. I’m sleeping.”

  The plastic flap was pulled back, revealing Mick’s pale, gaunt face. But he wasn’t alone.

  “Nah, mate. You’re going to want to let us in. It’s wicked important,” Mick replied.

  David rubbed his eyes and nodded curtly. “This isn’t about Ms. Jenson, is it? Or Giles?” David worried on a daily basis about the health of two of the camp’s oldest residents. And he was quite attached to Giles.

  “It’s not about that,” Mick said. “Can, uh, we come in?”

  David squinted again to focus in on the other face. He didn’t recognize the man in the lamplight that shone down on them. He fumbled around and flicked on his torch instead.

  “Um. Sorry, mate. Forgot your name,” David said with a frown.

  “It’s Rufus,” the man replied. “Mick said I needed to tell you something.”

  David nodded and pulled his boots and coat out of the way of the door. Mick and Rufus crouched down and crawled in, one at a time. When everyone was inside, David realized that they should’ve just stepped outside to speak. They barely fit inside the refrigerator box that David called home. Well, too late now.

  When the three men were crammed inside, lit by David’s torch, he turned to Mick.

  “All right, now what was so important that it couldn’t wait until morning?”

  “It’s Rufus. Used to work at the palace,” Mick said, jerking his head toward the newcomer to the camp.

  “Okay,” David said, shrugging,
yet already feeling a weight settle into place atop his chest. “And?”

  “I mean, ‘e really used to work at the palace. Like, up until yesterday. And you need to hear what happened.”

  David turned to Rufus. “You worked at the palace yesterday and now you’re homeless? How does that happen in a day?”

  “Drugs,” the man replied dejectedly. “Parents kicked me out. Said that was my last chance.”

  David sighed. Obviously. “Charles have a hand in that?” he asked. It made perfect sense, especially based on the stories he’d heard over and over in his month in the homeless camp. Like David’s adoptive father always used to say, lie with dogs and you’ll get fleas.

  “No, no. Charles and I . . . we’ve known each other since we were kids. Our parents were friends. But I’m not on drugs. Well, I mean, I haven’t been in a few years. Cleaned up and got a palace job. I was applying for uni and everything. But the people at the palace—the Lorrellians—they framed me! Put some weed in my jacket pocket and said they could smell it on me. Got me fired.”

  David’s eyes narrowed. It was a strange story, sure—but a strange story that felt all too familiar. And this man in front of him didn’t look like a drug addict. So perhaps it was possible that he was telling the truth.

  “Why?” David asked.

  “I think . . .” Rufus twisted his hands and looked all around the tent’s corners, as though he still wasn’t sure he should say anything. Or as though he was still afraid of being watched. “Because I overheard some stuff I wasn’t supposed to. Wrong place, wrong time kind of thing.”

  David looked at Rufus sympathetically, but then he shrugged. “Sorry, mate. But that’s what the king and queen of Lorria do. I don’t really see why I—”

  “King and queen?” Rufus interrupted. “The king and queen aren’t there yet.”

  David stared at the man intently, a painful focus cracking his composure. “What do you mean? Who was it you overheard, then?”

  Rufus looked at Mick briefly and then back to David. “It was the other one, the cousin.” David’s eyes went wide as that information sank in. “Madam Cassandra.”

  6

  Katy

  “I’m thinking mermaid or trumpet.”

  The shop attendant smiled and nodded, but before she could walk away, Cassie held a finger aloft.

  “Oh, and sweetheart or V-neck.”

  The attendant nodded, but was stopped from escaping again.

  “Open to off-shoulder. No cap, puff, or bishop sleeves. Possibly an illusion neckline, if the fabric doesn’t look cheap. Speaking of fabric, no tulle and no brocade.”

  The attendant pulled out a small notepad as Cassie’s orders continued.

  “Satin or lace. Chiffon and organza are fine. Absolutely no beading.”

  Katy watched in quiet amusement from the plush seat beside the tailor’s elevated stage. She’d had a feeling that dress shopping would go this way. Classic Cassie—this was just the beginning. The poor shop girl had no idea what she was getting into.

  “Yes, madam,” the attendant said dutifully, looking up from her notepad. “And the color?”

  Taking her eyes off her own reflection for the first time, Cassie shot an incredulous look at the attendant. Katy suppressed a chuckle.

  “White. Obviously.”

  “Of course,” the attendant replied. Then she was off, to dig through millions of dollars’ worth of wedding dresses in search of Cassie’s dream gown.

  Cassie turned around to face Katy, smoothing down her beige slip with a look of frustration. “The nerve of that girl! Can you believe what she was suggesting?”

  Katy crossed her legs and grinned. “I mean, she’s not wrong.” Katy had gotten the whole, often unwanted, rundown on Cassie’s escapades over her last three relationships. And, well, suffice it to say, she could no longer hold her virginity over Katy’s head.

  “Yeah, but she doesn’t know that!” Cassie turned back to the trifold mirror and posed at a different angle, examining her silhouette from the side. “And neither does Boris, so keep that to yourself.” She looked over her shoulder at her cousin and winked.

  Katy laughed. She had a feeling that there was a lot that Boris didn’t know. The few interactions she’d had with the man since meeting him hadn’t indicated a particularly high IQ. But as long as her cousin was happy, that was what mattered, right?

  And she definitely seemed to be.

  “I’m just so in love with him,” Cassie purred as she posed and fretted in front of the mirror. She reminded Katy of a giddy schoolgirl passing flirty notes to her crush. It was actually quite endearing.

  “I can tell,” Katy replied.

  Cassie turned around and flashed a beaming smile at her. “I can’t believe this is really happening,” she said dreamily, swaying the hem of the thin slip around her thighs. “For both of us! Just think, we’ll be shopping for you soon, too!”

  Katy forced a half-smile. She didn’t really want to think about that, not when she was trying to be happy for Cassie.

  The attendant returned with an armful of silk-wrapped garment bags. Sweat was beading on her brow. “All right,” she said enthusiastically, though her smile looked a bit too wide to Katy. “I think we have some good ones here!”

  Cassie grabbed the top bag excitedly.

  After a few long minutes of tying, clipping, and preening, Cassie turned around and held out her hands.

  “Well?” she asked Katy.

  It was a beautiful gown, with a cinched waist and snug fit down the hips until it flowed out gracefully around Cassie’s knees. A short train trailed behind her, her narrow shoulders left bare.

  “You look gorgeous,” Katy said lovingly. Even with all of the stresses in her own life, she felt great satisfaction at seeing her cousin fulfill a lifelong dream. Cassie had practically been planning her wedding since she was four years old.

  Despite the praise, her cousin whipped back around to analyze herself in the mirror.

  “It’s a little . . . blah,” she said, tugging at the satin. “I want to stand out on my wedding day, and this dress kind of screams blending in.”

  The attendant quickly jumped into action, stepping onto the stage to unpin the “blah” dress from her customer’s small frame and move on to the next one.

  Katy watched passively; her joy for her cousin kept her in the moment, but she could still feel the lingering sadness that blanketed her life these days, hovering just over her shoulders. Cassie was right. She would be dress-shopping for herself sometime in the near future. And the thought didn’t fill her with happiness.

  When the next dress was on, Cassie turned around to display it to Katy.

  “I like the sweetheart neckline,” Katy said approvingly. “And the lace is . . .”

  “Beaded,” Cassie spat out, looking down and picking at her bodice.

  “Baroque pearls, madam,” the attendant offered. But she was already on the stage to remove the offending garment.

  As Katy watched Cassie slip in and out of gowns, she thought about the dreams she had once had for her own wedding. She’d dreamed of long lace sleeves and wearing her mother’s heirloom tiara, the one that the queen had worn at her wedding to the king. When Katy got older, her vision had matured somewhat, becoming one of a quiet, elegant seaside wedding, with a flowy Bohemian-style dress.

  She hadn’t given much thought to the groom in those fantasies. It had always been more about the thrill of the dress and flowers and little details. But there had been a time, briefly, during her stint at Harvard, that Katy had pictured a man beside her. Tall, with a strong jawline, dark curls, strong hands, rugged good looks, and the sexiest London inflection . . .

  “This is off-white, isn’t it?” Cassie asked, breaking Katy’s spell.

  “Um,” Katy stammered, trying to refocus on the task at hand. “No, it looks white. I mean, it’s not brilliant white, but it’s definitely not off-white.”

  The attendant gave an almost imperceptible si
gh and approached the bride again. When they were busy again with the delicate art of dresses, Katy absentmindedly rubbed her temple, trying not to let her mind wander back to Cambridge again.

  “Are you okay, hon?” Cassie asked, raising a hand to signal the attendant to pause.

  Katy looked up. “Hmm? Oh, yes. I’m sorry. Just a bit of a headache.”

  Cassie looked concerned. “Well, do you want to reschedule? I’m not really finding anything here anyway.”

  At her side, the attendant looked mildly annoyed.

  “No, Cassie,” Katy assured her. Suddenly she felt guilty for allowing her inner turmoil to affect what was supposed to be Cassie’s special day. “Really, I’m fine. I want to be here for you. And I’ve always heard great things about this place. Mama herself suggested it, and you know she only goes for the best.”

  Cassie narrowed her eyes in suspicion and then turned to the attendant. “Could you give us a moment? Alone?”

  The attendant looked between Cassie and Katy before nodding and exiting the spacious room. When she was gone, Cassie stepped off the stage in hastily clipped-on wedding gown number twelve and moved to sit beside Katy.

  “Hey,” she started. “Is there anything going on that you’re not telling me about?”

  Katy widened her eyes and shook her head innocently. As much as she trusted her cousin, this was one thing she knew she couldn’t talk about. “Cass, honestly. I’m just a little fatigued. Maybe a bit dehydrated from all of the planning and introductions and such. But it’s not a big deal.”

  Cassie pursed her lips. “Given that you’re pretty much the only friend I have, your health is a really big deal. And I mean both physical and emotional health. You can keep denying it, but I always know when something is bothering you.”

  Katy took a deep breath in. Cassie could read her like a book. “I don’t want to talk about this when you’re trying on dresses, Cass. We can talk about it later.”

  Cassie rolled her eyes playfully. “What better time than now? You only get to wear a wedding dress once in a lifetime! This way, I get a little extra out of it.”