The Last in Line (The Royal Inheritance Series Book 1) (17 page)

The barman shook his head and pointed to a sign that said
No Hard Spirits
.

“Yours or mine?” Leanne grumbled. “Fine. Give me that fruity thing I see in that woman’s hand over there.”

The barman mixed her something that had watermelon and mint in it. Renee said she would have the same. She was aware of the eyes of the theatre patrons upon her.

She reached into her handbag. She still had some of the cash she had withdrawn on her first day in London. “How much?”

The barman held up his hands. “On the house, m’lady,” he said.

“Finally, somebody with manners,” said Leanne to the embarrassment of Renee.

Renee took her glass. “It looks delicious. You’re very kind.” She took a sip and was delighted. A cigarette would make it perfect, but she was learning to live without. She decided she had stretched her legs enough and wanted to go back to the box to avoid the stares until the play started again.

“If I pretend to be the King can I get a free drink too?” said a sardonic voice.

Renee looked around. A young man in a black tuxedo and white bow tie lounged against the bar and sneered at her. Her face went scarlet. It seemed as if the lobby had suddenly become much more quiet. Renee was torn between insisting on paying for the drink and throwing it in the young man’s face. Best not to make a scene, she decided, and was about to open her purse again when a large hand clapped the sneering man on the shoulder, nearly knocking him forwards. It was the man with the grizzled white hair who had raised his glass to her.

“Come now, Timmy. Surely with that trust fund of yours you’ve never had to pay for anything in your life. Or work, for that matter,” he said.

The people within earshot tittered, which was nearly everyone since the elder man’s voice boomed loud. Timmy slunk away, massaging his shoulder. The bystanders returned to the business of ordering drinks, and ignored Renee and Leanne. The elder man, Renee could now see, was hardly frail. He was large and solid and the mane of white hair gave him the air of a weathered mountain climber.

“Erastus Hughes,” he said. “And I know who you are, obviously.”

“Thank you for your assistance,” said Renee and put out her hand. He hesitated a moment and then shook it. Her hand was swallowed in his large one.

“Don’t think anything of it. You’ll run into lots like Timmy; those with inflated egos who think their bank accounts make them something special. Timmy’s father, for instance, made a fortune selling ad space in the early days of the internet, retired, and bought himself a baronetcy. A decent man, really, even if a little self-important, but didn’t manage to pass on his work ethic to his children.”

Renee didn’t know how to respond to that so she mumbled something about the importance of teaching children well.

“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight among the swells and those who think they’re swell,” he said.

“We needed a night out,” said Renee.

“Aye, and to be seen too,” said Erastus.

Renee wasn’t sure if she liked this big, cynical man. Erastus turned to Leanne suddenly. “I heard you ask for tequila. I don’t have any of that, but would a little scotch do the trick?” He pulled a flask from his tuxedo coat pocket and held it out to Leanne. She took a sniff of it and said, “That’s the stuff,” and took a large swallow before handing it back with a smack of her lips.

“You’re a real knight in shining armor,” said Leanne, batting her eyelashes.

Erastus roared in laughter.

“A knight by a technicality, but I ride in an ’84 Range Rover, not a horse.”

The bell sounded, signaling that intermission was over. The crowds began to drift back towards their seats. “May I accompany you?” asked Erastus. Renee agreed and he linked her arm in his.

“I can’t help feeling that I’ve heard your name before,” said Renee as they made their way up the stairs.

“You might have. I’ve been involved in a lot of discussions since the tragedy in the Summer. My organization, The League of Royal Bastards, has been lobbying to have the status of our members recognized.”

“Of course! You’re the descendant of Richard III, but you don’t look evil,” said Renee and then realized she might have offended him.

Erastus grinned. “There’s been enough intervening generations since then to weed those genes out. And was his reputation really deserved? I’m researching a new biography of him that may change some minds.”

“Sounds fascinating. I look forward to reading it,” said Renee. They had reached her private box. Her security guard, John, held the door open for her.

“I’ll give you an advance copy, but you’ll have to retrieve it in person. Lady Montshire, I’d like to invite you out to my country house weekend after next.”

“I don’t know…” said Renee, but Erastus Hughes didn’t look like the type of person who would be denied.

“It’s in the same area as the Montshire ancestral lands. Have you been there yet? In fact, I can show you the manor house that belonged to them. It’s in a state of disrepair now, but still beautiful. Some Montshire records are in the local church and some passed to my family for safe-keeping, as well. We could have lunch, tour the gardens, look at records. I even have it in mind to throw a gala ball for you so you can meet the League.”

“You’ve convinced me!” said Renee with a laugh. It would be a relief to get out of London and its enclosed spaces. And she was desperate to learn more about her Montshire heritage.

“Excellent. I’ll cook it all up then and send you the details.”

Erastus gallantly kissed both ladies’ hands and went to his own theatre box. Renee and Leanne took their seats. Cassandra was still curled up like an angel.

“Now
that
is how a man should act,” whispered Leanne as the lights dimmed and the ones on the stage grew brighter.

Renee tuned her out. She glanced over at Erastus Hughes’s box and smiled. This time he toasted her and she raised her glass in return and took a long, happy drink.

The trip to the theatre had gone better than expected, apart from the unfortunate tomato incident. After the fruity drink and a slug of Hughes’s flask, Leanne had become a little inebriated and laughed at a most unfortunate moment when the actress playing Ophelia was about to drown herself, which seemed to throw her off her line for a moment. But really, apart from all that, it had been enjoyable. And now she had the trip to Erastus Hughes’s country house to look forward to. They drove around looking for Mexican food just like Renee had promised Cassandra. The limousine driver knew of a place in Wembley and that is where they went, followed by a parade of vehicles bearing photographers and journalists, and then back to the hotel again, burritos in hand.

CHAPTER TWENTY

RENEE WOKE UP the next morning feeling optimistic. Let Bretton have his family coat of arms; she was going to visit her “ancestral lands” in two weeks. She washed and breakfasted with renewed vigor, and was even looking forward to her daily two hours of British history lessons. It was starting to feel like her own history. After consulting a travel guide, she and Cassandra decided that in the afternoon they would visit the Royal Albert Museum.

Roberts sat at a table going through the morning papers, calling out little tidbits. “Oh, look, they’ve got a picture of you in line at the Wembley Taco Stand. That ought to go down well with the locals. Hmmm, another photograph of that abominable Bretton at the house of a movie star. He certainly does get around. I know for a fact that this actor made a large donation to Rufus.”

Though Roberts made light of it, she knew he thought it unfortunate that he was getting so much favorable press. She and Cassandra settled in with their study materials. They had discovered fairly quickly that it was better if Roberts didn’t tutor them personally on history, but he had been quite helpful in drawing up a schedule of topics and providing interesting materials. Pretty soon, Renee would have to decide what to do about Cassandra’s schooling. She had been out of school for several weeks now.

Roberts’s mobile rang and Renee could tell that it was Chase on the line. Roberts’s brows furrowed together and he looked worriedly towards Renee before quickly looking away. “How is that possible? Are you sure?” he said in a low voice. “He’s on his way now? Oh, dear.” The conversation ended and Roberts pocketed his phone. “Ma’am, I have something unfortunate to tell you,” but before he could say anything further, the old fashioned telephone in the suite rang. Roberts snatched it up with the same worried furrow. “Yes? He’s here? We’ll have to let him up, won’t we?” He lay the phone back in its cradle.

“What is it?” asked Renee.

A loud knock on the door interrupted him. On the other side of it a familiar voice shouted, “Renee, you in there, girl? Open the door; it’s your husband.”

Roberts got up to answer, but Renee streaked past him, fire poker in hand, and yanked it open. Five minutes ago, she would have said that her mother was the last person in the world she wanted to see, but she would have been wrong. The absolute last person she ever wanted to see was the scumbag in faded denim and a leather jacket standing in her doorway.

“You son of a bitch. What do you think you’re doing here?”

“Hey there, darlin’. Good to see you too.” Ray smiled and sidled in.

John, whose day it was to guard the door, was about to grab Ray by the shoulder to prevent him from entering, but Renee shook her head and he backed off. Ray didn’t notice.

“I came to see my wife. You left town without saying a word.”

Renee addressed Roberts and John. “Can I have a moment alone, please?”

Neither man looked like they thought that was a good idea, but did as she asked and stepped out of the door and closed it.

Once they were gone Renee said, “I left you a note, which is more than you left me when you walked out.”

“Are you going to hold that against me? Baby, we were going through a rough patch,” said Ray. He tried to wrap his arms around her waist, but she pushed him off.

“Is that how you remember it?” said Renee, hand on hip. “Because I remember you walking out, taking all the money and not even leaving us enough to eat with. Not to mention the floozies you were cuddling up with.” She held the poker to his chest. The tip snagged his shirt. Her temper was rising to the top and she had to get ahold of it before it got her into trouble.

“Ah, don’t take it like that. All marriages have their ups and downs. Being with those other women helped me realize that you’re the one for life. I swear.”

Renee narrowed her eyes. She’d heard this same declaration before. The last time he’d only been gone a few days and she’d awoken one night to find him back in her bed again, passed out in a drunken stupor. She had taken him back that time because she didn’t feel there was another option and because he had pleaded with her that he was a changed man. What a dupe she’d been. But she didn’t have to take him back this time. She felt strong, but when she looked into his eyes, she wavered. What if he was serious this time? Could she so easily toss aside the last seven years?

Cassandra sat by the window with her history book on her lap, still as a sculpture. Her mouth had dropped open when Ray walked in.

“Hey there, kid. Aren’t you going to give your Dad a hug?” Ray held his arms open.

Cassandra set her book aside. She looked at Renee for guidance, but Renee didn’t want to influence her. If Ray was sincere, she didn’t want to ruin Cassandra’s chance to have a relationship with the only father she’d ever known. Cassandra walked towards him and Ray bent down to receive her, but she kept walking right past him and into Renee’s arms.

He straightened up; the smile was gone from his face. “Like mother, like daughter, huh?”

“Ray, what is it you want?” asked Renee. Better to get this over with.

“Funny you should ask.” He strolled over to the fanciest chair and made himself comfortable. “It looks to me like you got a real nice set up here. Doesn’t look cheap. Nope, you got to have deep pockets to pay for this and I’m wondering why you never mentioned any of your family history to me?”

It took a real effort for Renee not to roll her eyes.

“Right, waitressing was just a temporary gig until I got the call to rule a nation I’ve never been to. I was keeping this great big secret to myself, just waiting for the day when four thousand human beings, who happened to be more closely related to the royal family than me, would die in a fiery accident so I could inherit their money. And then, on top of that, I waited until just the right moment when you abandoned me to reveal to the world my true origins. Really, Ray?” The sarcasm was over the top, but it had never been his strong suit.

Ray ran his hand over his face which had a day of growth. “Women are crazy.”

“Oh, to hell with this,” said Renee. “Why don’t you get out?”

“Sure thing, darlin’, but isn’t there something you need?” He pulled an envelope from his coat pocket.

The divorce papers.

“Did you sign it?” she asked eagerly. Renee made a movement to take the envelope, but he held it out of her reach.

“Well, now, that depends.”

Renee gripped the poker she had lowered. “Cassandra, honey, do you mind going to your room for a minute?”

Cassandra nodded mutely and ran to her room and closed the door. Renee walked right up to him, so close she could smell the previous night’s beer on his breath. She hissed through clenched teeth.

“If you try to extort money from me, I’ll skewer you with this here poker, I swear to God.”

“I like it when you’re feisty. Reminds me of the last time I saw you.” He winked.

Renee’s blood boiled and the careful facade she built up over the last few weeks crumbled. She thrust the poker upwards, trying to spear him in the throat, but he batted it away and then wrenched it out of her hands, spinning her around and gripping her in an unbreakable bear hug like a straight jacket. She struggled in vain, but he held tighter. The smell of him turned her stomach and she couldn’t remember why she had ever loved him.

“Let me go!”

“Not until you turn around and give your old man a kiss.”

“I could have you arrested.” She attempted to elbow him in the stomach without success.

“But you won’t. And you know why? Because I have the divorce papers and I know everything there is to know about you.”

She couldn’t see him behind her, but she could feel him leering at her. The only way to get rid of him was to get him to sign those papers. “What do you want?”

“I want half.”

“Half of what?”

“Half of whatever you’re going to get.”

“That money doesn’t belong to me,” she said quickly.“It belongs to the country. I don’t even have money for nachos.”

“Right, babe. I don’t think you’re going to be shopping at the dollar mart.”

Ray’s grip was so tight she was beginning to struggle for breath. She pushed him as hard as she could and they slammed into a small table causing a lamp to crash to the floor.

She heard Ray grunt and then without warning, he released her. She collapsed against the sofa and looked up to see her daughter Cassandra clinging to his back as he swung around to try to get her off. “Get off, brat!” He reached around and she bit his hand. He yowled and slammed backwards into the wall, crushing her, but she didn’t let go. The sight of her daughter in pain caused Renee to lose all semblance of sanity and she rushed forward, grabbing the heavy, ornate telephone on the way and smashed him across the face with it. Ray crumpled to the floor and brought his hand to his face in a daze. His cheek was bright red and a small trickle of blood oozed from a cut. Once they focused, he turned his wild eyes on Renee. She steeled herself for whatever would come next.

“I’m going to kill you,” he said and started to launch himself at her.

Two men tackled him before he even got completely upright, and slammed him back to the floor.

“Right. You’re under arrest for making threats against a lady and the heir to the throne.” Chase roughly twisted Ray’s arms behind his back and handcuffed him. He and John hauled Ray to his feet by his elbows. Blood was smeared across Ray’s face. “I think deportation ought to do nicely for you.”

John hustled Ray out of the suite, who cursed loudly the whole way out.

Renee cradled Cassandra’s face. “Are you ok?” Cassandra nodded. “You did great, honey. You saved Mommy.” Cassandra began crying and Renee hugged her tightly, telling her it was alright and making soft lullaby sounds in her throat. She looked up at Chase. “Why didn’t you do anything sooner?”

“My hands were tied. You invited him in and for a moment there, it looked like I was going to have to protect
him
from you. I didn’t have cause to remove him until he made the threat.”

Renee was going to retort, but then decided against it. Chase crouched beside her and looked into her eyes. “Are you okay, Mrs. Krebs?” he asked gently.

Even though her blood was coursing with adrenaline and anger, her lip trembled. “Don’t call me that anymore. I hate that name. I never want to hear the name Krebs ever again.”

“What shall I call you?”

“You can call me Renee.”

“What shall I call you?” he repeated, a little more firmly.

Renee closed her eyes and sighed. Chase was very clearly erecting a boundary between them. She was royalty and he was her employee. No. He was her protector. He was her protector and friend even if she could never acknowledge the fact. She tried to focus on his question and think of an appropriate form of address. She didn’t like “Ma’am” as it made her feel old. She recalled how Erastus Hughes had addressed her.

“You can call me Lady Montshire,” she said.

Chase smiled. “I like that name. Lady Montshire, allow me to help you to your feet. You too, Miss Montshire, up you go.” Cassandra grinned as Chase held each of them by the hand and pulled them up.

Roberts, who had been twisting his hands and looking generally anguished, grabbed a tea towel and began scrubbing at the small spot of blood that had dripped on the floor. “Ma’am, I dearly apologize for having let him up. It will never happen again. You might have been harmed. And under my watch, too! I can’t let this happen again, I won’t. Please forgive me, Ma’am.” He scrubbed as if his life depended on it. The sight of him down on his knees and in his immaculate suit shamed Renee.

“There is nothing to forgive!” she exclaimed. “I’m the idiot who let him in. No, correct that—I’m the idiot who married him. Please get up and stop torturing yourself.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He stopped scrubbing, but still looked like a sad puppy.

“This is nobody’s fault but my own,” Renee repeated. “The worst part of it is, I still don’t have the divorce papers.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get them during his processing,” said Chase.

“How will you get him to sign? He’s going to hold this over my head for as long as possible.”

“Leave that to us, Lady Montshire,” said Chase.

She looked at him warily. “No force or violence. He’s still my husband—even if he is a worthless pile of wet manure patties—and it will come back to haunt me. There’s nothing stopping him from talking to any reporter he wants. Divorce is difficult for everybody. I don’t want to appear vindictive or petty.”

“There’s nothing stopping him except the fear that we can instill in him,” said Chase and cracked a knuckle.

“No violence,” said Renee. Chase nodded and agreed that not a hair on Ray’s head would be touched.

Renee didn’t wish ill for Ray, she just wanted him out of her life. He had been an unstable, faithless and sometimes violent element in her life, and had never been a real father to Cassandra. She wondered if she would ever find someone to love. She glanced unconsciously at Chase, but knew that door was closed.

“What are you doing here anyhow; isn’t today your day off?” she asked, irritated that his presence, despite the great service he had just rendered, should act as a reminder of the limits on her life. Chase lost his normal amiable expression and stood up. Renee wished she hadn’t said anything.