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Standing, she walks to the empty fireplace and sets her champagne flute on the mantle. “You and Rowan are determined to make Reggie into a villain. If you would take a step back from the situation, I can explain how you are wrong.”
The tightness in my chest makes it difficult to be patient. “I’m all ears.”
“When your father died, Rowan was thrust into a position of leadership whilst at the same time attempting to deal with a tragic loss.” Her blue eyes are fixed on the blackened grate in front of her.
For a moment I study her short grey hair, styled in a perfect helmut. Today she’s dressed in a different, severe pantsuit. It’s cream with navy pinstripes, and her pearls are, as always, perfectly arranged at her neck. Total control.
“I think Ro did a fine job stepping into leadership,” I say. “He’s never been one to be overcome by personal matters. Even now. He inherited your nerves of steel.”
I add that point in case she might try to implicate Ava somehow for distracting him from his “duty,” although the whole idea he should find a wife originated with her.
“He did a fine job,” my mother says with a slow exhale. “You’re right. Rowan is a true Westringham. He has the sophistication and the innate elegance to lead. The fire he inherited from the Tate side.” She looks at me and allows a little grin. “You, my dear, seem to have received a straight injection of Tate fire with only a touch of Westringham to temper it.”
“Enough of this talk.” My patience is gone, and whether it’s the Tate in me or simply my love for Zelda, I don’t have time to sort it. “My uncle has been working with Wade Paxton, and I want to know how much you know about his plans.”
Her face grows serious, and she returns to her desk. “It’s true. Reggie has been working with Wade since your father died.”
“You’ve known about their connection since Father died?” I take a step forward, and my hand brushes over a brass statue of a pointer dog positioned on an end table. I’m angry enough to smash it through a window.
“Control yourself, MacCallum!” My mother’s voice rises, and her eyes flash. “Your uncle has been working with Wade Paxton on my orders. I’m still the Queen of Monagasco!”
Her voice echoes slightly in the room. My lips part, and for a moment, I’m not sure how to proceed. She is still the leader of our country. Rowan has not succeeded her yet. The succession referendum has not even been drafted, so for all intents and purposes, our mother is still in charge of this country. She is eager to retire and has been increasingly ceding responsibility to my brother, but she has the power.
“Mother,” I say, dropping to the seat. Her confession changes everything, from the ransom demands to the reason I entered this room in the first place.
Only one word crystallizes in my mind: “Why?”
“Your father had a heart condition, MacCallum. He had a short temper and he was significantly overweight.” She looks down at the table and murmurs a brief prayer. “I’m not speaking ill of the dead, but the fact is, you cannot blame your uncle for Phillip’s death.”
“I might not, but Rowan certainly does.” It’s not an attack. I’m simply stating the facts.
“Your brother was very hurt and angry by what happened to his father, and it was a most appropriate way to respond. However, our country has been in jeopardy since before the two of you were born. Reggie and I made a vow to save Monagasco at all costs.”
“At all costs? What does that mean, Mother?” My tone is edged with ice. “What do you consider a cost?”
“Hubert joined forces with Wade, and Reggie was determined to stop them. He is as committed to keeping Monagasco independent as your father ever was. His goal was to infiltrate their plans, report them back to me, and help us destroy them from the inside.”
Silence. The ticking of the brass clock on her desk.
“You say that was his plan.” I’m thinking about what I know. “How did it change?”
“When
Rowan kicked the entire cabinet out, Reggie went with them.” She returns to her desk and lifts the cloisonné pen. “He had to choose whether to continue tracking your father’s betrayers or come clean and lose all access he had to them and their plans.”
“He chose to stay in league with Twatrington.” I say, finishing her sentence.
“To protect his country. Reggie is one of us.”
For a moment, I think about what I know of my uncle’s involvement in the plans to overthrow our government, in the plans to sabotage Rowan’s car at the grand prix, in the attempt to kill Ava, in the kidnapping of Zelda… I know very little, actually.
“When he returned with Zelda and Ava, did you have a role in that as well?”
She does a little shrug. “I only know your uncle needed to get back into the country somehow.”
“So this bit about him finding an heiress for Rowan to woo—all of it was simply a coincidence, considering you had just proposed the exact same solution and planned a ball to facilitate it?”
Her blue eyes snap up to mine. “Your uncle has always been very resourceful.”
