Hand-Me-Down Princess (10 page)

* * *

Malachi had hoped for a deeper, more intimate meeting of souls when he professed his vows to Jessabelle. Instead, she’d been very matter of fact about them. A few tears, but very little other emotion. No invitation to kiss her. No indication that they really did mean that much to her.

Because she didn’t care? Or she didn’t believe him? Or something else entirely?

The flight to Mevendia was quiet. Malachi caught up on email and reading some of the paperwork he’d need for the meeting the next day. Jessabelle stared out the window for the duration of the flight. When they landed, he was whisked one direction by Carson, his assistant, while she was ushered back to the palace.

Over the next two days, they began to settle into a pattern. He didn’t see her much and had little idea what she did with her days. But when he returned to their apartment Wednesday afternoon, he found her throwing things into a suitcase.

“Jessabelle?” He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “What’s all this?”

She looked at him, tears streaking down her cheeks. “My father has taken a turn for the worse. They don’t expect him to live much longer, and I need to go stay with him for a few days. Until he gets better or until...” Her voice caught on a sob.

Malachi turned her until her head rested on his chest. He let her weep against him until she seemed to have cried herself out. “Do you want me to go with you?”

She shook her head. “No. I know you and your brother have that meeting with Queen Adeline and Queen Christiana tomorrow. There won’t be anything for you to do except sit there. Thank you for offering though.”

“If you need
anything
, call me. I’ll interrupt my meetings if you need me. And if I don’t hear my phone or don’t answer, my assistant can always find me, so call Carson.” He tilted her head up so he could look her in the eye. “Promise me?”

Jessabelle nodded. “I will.” She moved away from him. “But I have to go.”

He pulled her back to him and whispered a prayer for her and her father then let her go.

That night, he tossed and turned. Even though he never slept directly next to his wife, he missed her being there with him. Four-thirty rolled around. He was about to give up sleeping when his cell phone buzzed on the table next to the bed.

Jessabelle’s picture popped up as he picked it up. He opened with, “How are you?”

“He’s gone.” Her voice sounded broken. “He muttered incoherently for the last hour, but then he just...stopped. A couple more breaths and he was gone.”

“I’m so sorry,
Mia Belle
.” He swung his feet over the side of the bed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“No. There’s really no need. The staff here will take care of everything. My father already made most of the funeral arrangements. It’ll be a small gathering in a couple of days.” She seemed to hesitate. “Would you come for that?”

“Of course!” Did she really think he wouldn’t be at his father-in-law’s memorial? “I would imagine my father will be in attendance as well.”

So would the paparazzi, but no need to mention that.

“Thank you.” He could hear someone speaking in the background. “I have some things to do here, but I wanted to let you know.”

“I’m glad you did.” He’d been afraid she wouldn’t. She said something inane like “see you later” and hung up.

Malachi spent a few minutes in prayer before calling his father’s direct line.

“What?” The king’s sleep-scratched voice sounded more intimidating than usual.

“Jessabelle’s father died a few minutes ago,” Malachi informed him. “I thought you’d like to know.”

He heard the rustle of sheets and whispers between his parents. “You’re right, Mal. Her father was one of my best friends growing up, even if we hadn’t spoken much until he called insisting on the marriage contract with William.”

There was a whole story thread there. One Malachi wanted to understand. Why his father hadn’t insisted William marry Jessabelle, but had been adamant Malachi do so. It wasn’t the time and telephone wasn’t the medium to get into it, though.

For the next few minutes, Malachi told him the little he knew about the arrangements being made. His father insisted the whole royal family would be in attendance. Malachi tried to convince him it wasn’t necessary. The added press attention would stress Jessabelle out, but the king insisted.

By six, Malachi had made phone calls to cancel all of his meetings for the rest of the week. His wife needed him, even if she’d never admit it. By seven-thirty, he’d driven himself to the home his wife grew up in. Nodding his thanks to the maid who opened the door and directed him to the office, he looked for her.

She sat on the edge of the chair behind the desk, mounds of paper surrounding her. He watched as she rifled through one stack then another. Jessabelle sank back into the seat and looked up, seeing him for the first time.

Tears streaked down her cheeks as she spoke. “It’s not here.”

Chapter 10

Jessabelle had looked through all of the papers on the desk and had come to one of two conclusions.

The paperwork wasn’t there.

Or her father had gone slightly crazy in his last moments.

Malachi, in his dark suit, pressed white shirt, and subdued tie walked across the room toward her. “What can’t you find, love?”

“My father told me to...” She closed her eyes, trying to remember his exact words. “...’Find the key to your heritage in the safety deposit box.’”

“The key to your heritage?” Malachi sat in one of the leather chairs across from her. “Any idea what that means?”

“No. And there’s no record that I’ve found yet of a safety deposit box.” She wiped her fingertips under her eyes. So many tears.

“Could it be in your mother’s name?”

Jessabelle stared at him.

“What?”

“I guess it could be.” She swiveled in the chair and opened a drawer in the filing cabinet. Two large expandable folders rested inside. She had to stand to pull them out. Malachi was at her side by the time she stood straight, and he took one from her.

“Do you mind if I help you look?”

She shook her head. “It probably doesn’t matter right now. I’ll find it when we go through everything. Something about how he said it, though...” It bothered her. She knew her heritage. Her father was the grandson of the third son of a duke. His sixth great-grandmother had been a princess in the Van Rensselaer family. She’d married a duke. Their line continued through the oldest son until two generations earlier. Jessabelle probably had some exceptionally distant claim to the throne. If ten thousand and eight other people all died at the same time.

Malachi pulled a sheet of paper out. “Here it is. The Second Mevendian National Bank. It looks like it was paid for twenty-one years in one lump sum about nineteen years ago.” He scanned the page. “It says there’s a special caveat. Upon the death of both of your parents before your twenty-first birthday, the contents of the box are to be turned over to you. If one or both of your parents survive to your birthday, they can choose to close the box or renew it with new instructions.”

She blew out a breath. “But where’s the key?”

Her husband peered into the dusty brown folder and bit his bottom lip as he reached in. “Right here.” He held up an old-fashioned brass key. “When do you want to go?”

Jessabelle glanced at the clock. “Probably not today. Too much to do. Maybe tomorrow? The service won’t be until Friday afternoon.”

“I wish I could go for you. Wondering what’s in there has to be hard.”

She shook her head. “I can’t think about it now.” A discreet knock at the door caught her attention. Her father’s solicitor entered when she called. The three of them exchanged pleasantries before the other man got down to business.

“Your Royal Highness, I doubt there will be many surprises in your father’s will. Except for a bit of money left to different charities, you inherit everything, but before we can officially read the will, you need to find the contents of the safety deposit box. I know your father planned to tell you about it?”

Jessabelle squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes. He did. I was hoping we could read the will and get it over with today.”

“Only if you obtain the contents of the box, ma’am.”

She pushed back from her father’s desk. “Prince Malachi, will you be so kind as to take me to the bank?”

A bit of annoyance skittered across his face at her use of his title, but there were others present. It was proper. He nodded. “Of course.”

It took half an hour to get to the main downtown branch of the bank, but they were waiting when the doors opened at nine. The president of the bank saw to the issue himself, showing them to the vault containing row after row of locked boxes. He used one key to open one lock. Jessabelle waited for him to leave to use her key to open the other.

Inside, only a plain manila envelope greeted her. She picked it up. Maybe half an inch thick, it contained answers to the questions she had. She didn’t know just yet what those questions were, but she had the answers. Jessabelle shoved it into her bag. “No time to look at it now. But at least I have it and can get on with reading the will later today.”

The rest of the day was filled with the decisions necessary to finish planning the memorial service and the reading of the will. Jessabelle wasn’t surprised by anything in it, except some of the amounts her father left to the various charities - more than she expected for some, less for others. The money for Jessabelle went into a trust for her grandchildren, unless she was widowed by or divorced from Prince Malachi.

When the lawyer read that part, Jessabelle glanced at the arm of her chair where the prince’s hand held hers. He squeezed it to let her know just what he thought about that last part.

She spent the night in her old room. Prince Malachi returned to the palace. The only bed in the house big enough for both of them belonged to her parents. No way that was happening. There never had been a guest room. So the prince had gently kissed her forehead and told her he would be back in the morning to help with anything she needed.

Jessabelle sat on her bed and stared at the envelope she’d pulled from the safety deposit box. Did she have the mental and emotional fortitude to open it and deal with whatever was inside? She’d been awake for over thirty-six hours. Her muscles cried out for rest. Her mind continued to race a mile a minute, but her body told her there was no real choice.

With a deep sigh, she put the envelope on her nightstand and slid under the covers. Even though Malachi never touched her in the night, she realized she missed having him next to her. Her mind eventually settled down enough that she dozed off and slept fitfully until morning.

* * *

Malachi spent his night tossing and turning and wishing Jessabelle had come back to the palace with him, though he understood her need to stay at the house. Security had, of course, stayed behind as well. Her father’s death had made headlines already and would continue to do so for the next several days. Hopefully by the end of the week, it would be put behind them.

He gave up trying to sleep about six and headed to the gym for a work out. His feet pounded the belt for several miles before slowing down to a walk, wrapping his small towel around his neck. He was minutes from stopping when the door to the gym opened, and his great-grandmother walked in.

With a grin splitting his face, he pressed the stop button and hopped off. “Nana Yvette! I’m so glad to see you!”

Nana Yvette held out her hands. He took them, kissing both of her cheeks.

“Where is your lovely wife?”

“She stayed at her father’s home last night.” Malachi tucked her hand into his elbow and helped her to the couch facing the window. She’d had it placed there for this very reason.

“Please give her my most sincere condolences when you see her.” Nana Yvette sat down and he sat next to her. “I don’t believe I’ll attend the services. I didn’t know the man and there will be enough hoopla surrounding the event with your father there and because of her newly royal status.” A smirk crossed his great-grandmother’s face at the mention of his marriage.

“What’s so funny?”

She waved a wrinkled hand. “Nothing, dear. I do want to get to know your wife better soon, though.”

“I know she wants to get to know you as well, Nana.”

“This was not unexpected, was it?”

“No. In fact, I believe he lived for our wedding.” Malachi ran a tired hand over his face. “He wanted to see my father make good on his promise to have one of his sons marry Jessabelle so she would be taken care of once he passed on. That’s been done. I’ve been told he deteriorated quickly, beginning the day after the wedding, holding out long enough to see his daughter again. She knew this was coming. In fact, they already read the will yesterday. Nothing surprising, except for an envelope she’s supposed to open when she’s ready for answers about her heritage.”

“Her heritage?” There was something odd in his great-grandmother’s voice, but Malachi couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

“Yes. When I left last night, she hadn’t opened it yet. I hope she’ll tell me what she found as soon as she does.”