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“Who? Our parents? I rarely see them. Will our Montgomery-Taggert relatives tell? Their loyalty to each other is of legendary proportions. Do you think the press will be astute enough to figure it out?”
“What about Danna?” Rory asked.
Graydon put his hands in his pockets, an unusual gesture for him, more like something Rory would do—and the casual stance shocked his twin. “She, least of all, will know which of us is the crown prince. I see her less often than I do our parents. Rory?” He looked at his brother. “You are going to do this for me.”
Between them were years of unspoken words. Graydon had covered for Rory hundreds of times. Since they were children, Graydon had often taken the blame for things that Rory did. When they were younger, it had been a game. Rory did the naughty deeds and Graydon took the blame. He used to say, “Being you makes me seem less …” “Less like the Perfect Prince?” Rory had finished for him. “Yes,” Graydon had said, smiling.
But as they grew up, people around them—and there were a lot of retainers—figured it out. By the time the boys were twelve, it was known that if something good was done, Graydon did it. Bad behavior was Rory’s territory.
Rory was staring at his brother—who seemed to have turned into someone he didn’t know. “All this is because of some girl who says she c
an tell you from me?” Rory didn’t realize it, but he was beginning to stand taller, straighter. Just the thought of pretending to be his brother for an extended time was doing something to him.
“She has no idea there’s any significance to what she saw,” Graydon said.
“But she said she can tell the crown prince from the landless one?”
“She doesn’t know,” Graydon said.
“Doesn’t know that you’ll someday be the king of a country? Doesn’t know that you’re to marry a Lanconian duke’s daughter? Does she even know that she turned down the UYB in favor of a future king? What does she know?”
Graydon kept his hands in his pockets. “She doesn’t know any of it. Not a word.”
“The legend about whoever can tell the Montgomery-Taggert twins apart?”
“No, of course not. Rory,” Graydon said firmly, “I want to see if …”
“If what?” Rory asked, anger in his voice. “You want to see if you can make her fall in love with you because of some stupid legend? By Jura, but that’s cruel! You can’t do that! There’s no future for you two. You know you can’t marry her. And even Danna, as sweet as she is, wouldn’t put up with a cute blonde mistress.”
“I’m not in love with this girl and I don’t plan to be.” Graydon took a breath. “I just want what you’ve had since we were twelve years old. I want some time of freedom. Think of it as an extended bachelor party.” He was nose to nose with his brother. “You are going to be me for a whole week. Do you understand me?”
“Sure,” Rory said as he took a step back. He’d never seen his brother so fierce and angry. He could almost imagine the warriors their family was descended from. “I’ll stay in the palace and live a life of ease. Get waited on day and night. I’ll have champagne for breakfast.”
Graydon stepped away. “That’s how your life is now, but while I’m here you’ll take over my duties at home. I can postpone the important meetings but you’ll have to attend to charity matters, make a few presentations, and go to at least one ribbon cutting. Wherever you’re needed, you’ll be there. Now, I’m going to have dinner with a lovely young lady and—”
“Tell her,” Rory said. “Promise me that you will tell her who you are and why you have to return home and leave her behind.”
Graydon didn’t turn around, but he nodded once, then went back toward the tent.
It was Rory’s turn to put his hands in his pockets, and he fell back against a tree. His brother had just knocked the air out of him. His request that Rory exchange places with him wasn’t that unusual, as they’d been doing that all their lives. Graydon usually took over for Rory, and they’d done it as recently as a month ago when Graydon wanted an evening off from his duties. It always entertained Rory to see his straitlaced brother trying to be him. Graydon wasn’t one to drive a car at two hundred miles an hour or race a boat across choppy waters. “But it isn’t just me, it’s a whole kingdom I’m risking,” Graydon had said when Rory laughed at his brother’s seeming timidity. Graydon’s words had taken away the laughter. What he was saying was that Rory was expendable; Graydon was not. “UYB,” Rory had muttered. It was a term he’d come up with when they were kids. “Useless Younger Brother”—eventually abbreviated to UYB.
Rory’s self-worth was further trampled when Graydon began to win over the girls. The last time this had happened, Rory had coaxed Graydon into having dinner with a girl he’d been dating for months. He wanted to go to a party given by his ex and he didn’t want to have to deal with his current girl’s jealousy.
It was never easy for Graydon to get away from his bodyguards, but that night he’d managed it, and the exchange went off perfectly. Except that afterward, Rory’s girlfriend wanted him to be the way he was on the night of the exchange. “You were sooooo romantic,” she kept saying. “Remind me again what I did,” Rory said. She sighed in a dreamy way. “You played the lute, sang to me, and fed me those tiny grapes. You—” Rory cut her off and never again asked his brother to take his place on a date. He and the girl broke up soon afterward. “You’ve just changed,” she said when they parted. “There was one night when you made me feel like I was the center of the world, then it was back to … to being you.”
Later, Rory asked Graydon what he thought of the girl. “Very pretty but not a brain in her head. Want me to get Mother to find someone for you?”
Graydon was referring to Danna, who’d been chosen for the future king’s wife. Danna was tall and beautiful, sublimely educated, and the daughter of a Lanconian duke. She could ride a horse with perfect form, play the piano at concert level, host a formal dinner for two hundred with ease. As for her personality, she loved charity work, never forgot anyone’s name, and was always gracious and considerate. She never put a foot wrong or lost her temper with anyone.
All in all, Danna was utterly and completely perfect, and she was to marry Graydon and become the next Queen of Lanconia.
The only problem was that Graydon didn’t love Danna. He liked her well enough, but there was only friendship between them. But at thirty-one years old, Graydon knew it was time that he marry and produce an heir to the throne. As always, he took his duties very, very seriously. He wasn’t his brother; he couldn’t marry only for love. No, Graydon had to find a woman who could do all the things required of her as a princess and later as a queen. Hours of standing, smiling endlessly, being deeply involved in charity work, et cetera. The woman had to be as dedicated as Graydon was, and in this modern age that was nearly impossible to find.
Rory looked across the moonlit landscape. He could hear the band inside the tent beginning to make sounds of rock ’n’ roll. Could his brother even dance to that? Graydon was more of a waltz man than a down and dirty rocker.
The truth was that Rory knew his brother could handle the change quite easily. He’d have a few problems but nothing could stop him for long.
The true problem was going to be Rory’s. He knew he could put his shoulders back and carry himself like his brother. Unbending, inflexible, he could put on that I-will-be-king look that Graydon had perfected.
