The Last in Line (The Royal Inheritance Series Book 1) (24 page)

Renee felt a moment of panic. He was right, she didn’t know anything about politics. But she did know that she didn’t like to be kicked around. In fact, she’d had just about enough of it. She would just have to rough it and she would have help. She had Roberts, and Audrey, and Britchford, Erastus and Simon Coakely. The thought of Simon brought a blush to her cheeks.

“Mr. Prime Minister, in America we’re taught that we’re all created equal and that no person, not even a king or queen, is above the law. I may have been plucked out of the back fields of Texas to be the queen, but if people sneer at me because I’m low class, that will be my problem, not yours. I’ll learn to live with it.”

The scenery outside was going by too slowly. Renee sincerely hoped the car was taking her back to the hotel. Surely, Chase wouldn’t allow her to be kidnapped like this. That must have been what his sour expression was about—Rufus had called him to arrange this meeting. Who the hell did Chase think he worked for? Her fury both with Chase and Rufus was building by the second, but she supposed she should be flattered that her interview hadn’t been over for five minutes before the head of the government had made a move to head her off. She must be doing something right.

“Alright,
Lady
Montshire, it sounds as if you’ve made a decision,” said Rufus.

“You bet I have!”

She banged on the glass that separated the front of the limousine from the passenger seats. It lowered with a smooth hum. “Driver, stop the car now! Harry, I’m getting out.”

The driver appeared confused so to make clear her intentions, Renee grabbed the door handle and flung open the door while the vehicle was still travelling. The limousine screeched to a halt, causing a cacophony of car horns to sound behind it. Renee jumped out and Harry followed quickly, surprise written all over his usually placid face. He spoke quickly into his earpiece.

Rufus leaned in the open door. “Mrs. Krebs, what are you doing? Get back in this car. Our driver will take you where you need to go. Get back in the car and we can discuss the offer in a more civilized manner.”

“Mr. Prime Minister, you can take your offer and shove it. I will see you in Hell before I sell out this country.”

She slammed the door on Rufus’s face, which had turned a dangerous shade of purple. Renee marched past stunned pedestrians, while Harry kept close on her heel. Her boot buckles jingled angrily as she walked. Fortunately, they were only a few blocks from the hotel and when she stormed into her suite ten minutes later and came face to face with Chase, she was ready to let him have it. Roberts, Cassandra, Audrey, and even Leanne looked cowed by the sight of her fury.

“You,” she said, and pointed an accusing finger at Chase’s heart. “How could you do that to me! You knew what he was planning.”

“I didn’t. I was just following orders.”

“That’s what the Nazis said.” Renee could hardly contain herself.

“You’re being unreasonable,” said Chase.

“—Trapped in a car with that revolting troll—”

“I have something to tell you.”

“—Completely blindsided—”

“I’m off the case.”

“—It was an ambush. I can see who you’re working for and it’s not me!”

She was in a righteous fury and wanted him gone from her sight. She didn’t understand why he was just standing there, his arms hanging by his side. Suddenly, his words registered. “Wait, what?” Renee was confused.

“I’m off the case,” Chase said again. “Rufus just called and he’s removed me from your service.”

“Well, he can’t do that. I say you’re staying.”

Chase shook his head. “He can do it. In fact, he’s done it. I am a public employee. My salary is paid for by the government.”

“Fine. You’ve just resigned your job and now you work for me. Roberts can arrange it, can’t you?” She looked over at Roberts who was watching with wide, fearful eyes. “Can’t you?”

“No, he can’t,” said Chase.

“Why not? I’m sick of Rufus dictating my life. I’m sure there’s a way—”

“There’s a photograph, Renee!” It was the first time Chase had used her first name in weeks and the shock of it stopped her angry pacing. He bowed his head. “Forgive me. I meant to say, Lady Montshire.”

“What photograph, what are you talking about?”

“Of us. In New York. It looks bad.”

For a moment his face looked so haggard that she wanted to reach out and smooth away the creases.

“I don’t remember any photograph. We were too busy shopping. The only photograph I remember was when—Oh!”

She vividly remembered when the tourist had asked for their picture and Chase had obliged by putting his arm around her. She remembered how that had felt, to feel his strong hand on her. How electric and alive she had felt. How the world had seemed to melt away and leave just the two of them.

Chase nodded.

“But that was nothing,” said Renee. “Just a posed picture.”

“Not from the angle they shot it from. It looks like more than that and it makes it look like the heiress to the throne of England is having a dalliance with the help. They must have had someone tailing you. I’m beginning to suspect that it’s the same party who leaked information on your presence in London.”

“But I’m not—we’re not!” Renee was flustered. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought of it, she wasn’t an angel.
I mean, who wouldn’t
, she thought,
just look at him!
But she knew the limits. Heck, Chase had set those limits with a bright, red marker. “We’ll just tell the truth. It will blow over.”

Chase ran his hand through his hair. “The picture is already out! The damage is done and there is not one damned thing I can do about it. I’ve been removed, effective immediately. Rufus must have been keeping this in his back pocket, waiting for the right time. That interview must have really scared him.” There was bitterness in his voice. “Harry will take over your security. He’s excellent. Highly trained.” Chase’s words were clipped and his jaw was working as if trying to gain control of his emotions. “You are in excellent hands, Lady Montshire. I take my leave of you now.”

“Chase—no. Wait a minute. Please.”

But he was already at the door. Renee was in shock as he opened it. He couldn’t be leaving. He had been with her since the beginning. He turned suddenly right before he exited. “I will always be in your service.”

He was gone.

She had experienced such a vast array of emotions in so short an amount of time; from the nervousness and then euphoria of the successful interview, to the earth-shaking fury of the encounter with Rufus, and now the shock of Chase’s departure and the knowledge that her success on the show had lasted less than an hour, that she was now pegged as a loose woman no matter the truth. The world seemed to tilt and she was suddenly struggling to draw a breath. Roberts and Audrey rushed forward and caught her before she collapsed. They each put an arm around their shoulders and managed to get Renee to her bed. Renee didn’t even notice them as they gently removed her designer boots and pulled a blanket over her. She just stared at the ceiling unaware of anything except that her life was in complete ruin.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

IT WAS A FULL TWO DAYS before Renee even considered stirring from her bed. She could hear the others talking in low voices on the other side of the door. Leanne sang softly, trying to teach a country song to Cassandra. Renee remembered singing this same song with her mother on the front porch while her father rocked in his chair, and the memory was like a punch in the gut. She rolled over. Her stomach rumbled, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch the sandwich that had been left on the bedside table for her. The marvelous cart of food that was rolled in three times a day was always sent back out again untouched. When Roberts saw that not even the coffee cup had been used, he became concerned. “Didn’t even drink the coffee,” he muttered to himself. “It must be serious, indeed. Americans don’t function without their coffee.”

A few times she had tried dialing Chase’s mobile, but all she ever got was a recorded message.

The door creaked open and she hid her head under the blanket. She heard Roberts whisper to the others, “She still hasn’t touched the food.” After he closed the door again, she gently picked up the telephone and dialed the number to Chase’s office. After navigating a confusing menu of choices, she finally reached the desk of a human being in Chase’s department.

Renee cleared her throat and did her best to imitate Chase’s accent. “Yes, hello, I’m calling for my brother, Philip Chase. This is his sister and I…um…want to confirm the Christmas present for our mother.”

A very bored sounding male secretary answered. “Mr. Chase is currently on paid holiday and it is unknown when he will return. Mr. Chase has no sister and he definitely does not have a sister who cannot decide if she is from Wales or East London. Good day.”

The line went dead before Renee could tell the secretary what he could do with that attitude, but just then there was a tap on the door and Renee quickly replaced the phone. Audrey peeked in and then entered with a tray of her carrot cake cupcakes—the ones that should have won the prize at the contest that was best left unmentioned—and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Come on, duckie. You can’t stay like this. Here, have a nibble of a cupcake. Gran put a spot of rum in it for you.”

Renee pulled the blanket over her head. “It’s over, Audrey. All this business about me being royalty—it was hogwash from the start. Rufus has complete control over my life. He can smear me in the papers, he can make me homeless, he can cut off the funds. I’m just as dependant on him as I was on Ray and look how that turned out.” Renee began to choke up. “He can even remove people from my life.”

Audrey snatched the blanket from Renee’s head. “Well, he can’t remove me. I’d just love to see him try. What is it you’re really moping over? Did you fancy that security man? He was a drop in the hot pot, wasn’t he? Did he fancy you back?”

“I don’t know,” cried Renee. “I thought he did, but he just walked out. And now he’s gone on vacation without saying a word to me.”

“Then he’s not worth crying over. And I may be wrong, but I thought I saw a bunch of flowers out there with a card signed by Simon Coakely. He’s well known on the social scene; everybody’s trying to land him. And here’s another thing that might make you feel better.” Audrey pulled from her bag a large manila folder and handed it to Renee, who opened it and sat straight up in bed.

“How did you get these?” asked Renee, pulling out the large, clear, easily identifiable photos of Ray snuggling with a woman that was definitely not Renee. His wedding ring was visible.

“If you’ll notice the calendar in the background, it gives a date that is well prior to the tragedy at the Royal Grand Reunion. One of his chippies posted it on her webpage. He can’t say you didn’t have cause to divorce him or even do a little of your own fooling about.”

“But I didn’t!” said Renee.

“Yes, dear, I know,” said Audrey, patiently. “But these photos kind of let you off the hook in the morals department,” said Audrey.

Renee shook her head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “We must look so trashy.”

“Not any trashier than the royals are wont to act. It’s par for the course, really.”

Renee leapt across the bed and caught a surprised Audrey in a tight hug.

“Thanks for making me feel better. It doesn’t fix the other problems, but at least the rest of the world will get to know Ray like I know him. I don’t know what I ever saw in him,” she said sadly, looking at the picture and feeling all the weight of spent years and wasted love.

“Chin up. Once your divorce goes through, you’ll be the most eligible bachelorette in the country, possibly on the planet.”

“Right. I’m sure the men will be lining up to take on a divorcee with a pre-teen child. And, oh yeah, you’ll never have a private moment to yourself ever!” Renee started giggling out of sheer hysteria.

Audrey looked alarmed and patted her on the arm like she was a mental patient in need of calming.

“Don’t worry, honey. There will always be somebody who will love you and your problems.” Renee followed Audrey’s meaningful glance out the open bedroom door to the bouquet of flowers on the table.

Audrey jumped off the bed and clapped her hands in a businesslike way. “Sulking time is over. Why don’t you go have a good soak and then doll yourself up?”

“Why would I want to do that?” asked Renee, not feeling in the least like ending her appointment with her bed.

“Because I’ve booked you to attend the premier of ‘Silver Badge of the West’ tonight. It’s Hollywood. It’s cowboys. It’s gorgeous movie stars. It’s you in the paper tomorrow looking fab instead of drab because you’re not hiding your face as you run by saying,
no comment
. Get it? And tomorrow you will volunteer in an animal shelter cleaning dogs and mucking out the cages. And the day after that you will visit some veterans—”

Renee’s jaw dropped. “Why are we doing all this?”

“Because we have only one week until the deadline and we are going to bombard them with images of you being spectacular.” Her fist fell in her hand like a hammer. Audrey dragged Renee out of the bed and pushed her in the direction of the bathroom.

“Why are you being so mean?” complained Renee.

“Because I’m a loyal citizen. Now start exfoliating!”

*              *              *

Renee did have a spectacular time at the premier and got to wear the star’s cowboy hat, which both of them autographed and promised to auction for charity.

Although she still resented what Rufus had done, she couldn’t take any more time for self-pity because Bretton was also on the move.

The season had changed from Fall to Winter almost overnight and Bretton was photographed in romantic poses with his arms out in the falling snow, or watching Italian cars race around a course, or looking thoughtfully out over a gray English Channel. It made her sick. “The Most Dashing Ascendant to the Throne Since Henry VIII” pronounced one paper. “Well, if you like beheadings,” sniffed Roberts. Renee shivered. She had not forgotten how close his hands had come to ringing her neck.

“Why isn’t anyone discussing his criminal past?” she demanded once of Audrey and Roberts. “How can you be on trial for killing three people and never have it mentioned?”

“Libel laws,” said Audrey. “They are very strict here. If you even hint at something that turns out not to be true or cannot be proved as true, the offended party can sue for libel and take everything you’ve got. Bretton was cleared.”

“He wasn’t cleared. There was a mistrial due to a witness turning up dead,” said Renee.

“Well, whatever it was, once he’s been let go in the USA, it can hardly be brought up here as a legitimate topic.”

This seemed very backwards to Renee.

“But the First Amendment allows us to talk about anything we want,” protested Renee.

“In America dear, but you’re not there anymore. The Constitution doesn’t cover the United Kingdom.”

Renee was appalled to discover that the freedom of speech wasn’t a universal concept. “This seems like a flaw. We’ll have to see what we can do about that.”

Audrey’s red hair seemed to crackle on end. “You are not going to fiddle with 800 years of history! That’s what people are afraid of: Americans swaggering in here and changing our traditions.”

“I don’t swagger and I’m not going to mess with anything. Improve maybe….”

She let the subject drop, but Bretton’s popularity was a problem and the fact that she wasn’t allowed to point out that he was possibly a psychopathic murderer made her job harder because even though there was no “campaign” occurring, two sides had definitely emerged in the weeks running up to the deadline for the passage of the Bill of Succession. Bretton attracted women, young people who followed celebrity news, celebrities, media folk and the Labour Party. Renee’s supporters consisted of the League of Royal Bastards, Britchford, and, well, that was about it. Perhaps also Hutch and the blue haired women who watched his show.

She wasn’t the only one making the effort. During every Prime Minister’s Hour, Britchford stood and hammered Rufus regarding the Bill of Succession.

“When?” thundered Britchford. “When will there be a name on the bill? If we do not meet the deadline, the monarchy will disappear from British life forever. Are we to be held hostage by a gang of radicals?”

Rufus countered in turn. “And are we to be forced into a hasty decision by overeager monarchist sycophants? One tragedy has befallen us already and we do not want to be forced into another one. Two candidates have presented themselves and our investigations are ongoing.”

Erastus, too, was busy. He used every connection he could through the League to persuade Members of Parliament or other prominent folks to publically commit to Renee. “Money talks and I’ve got a lot of it,” he said to Renee. Despite his bluster, Renee knew he was worried. The days were running down and soon the deadline was upon them.