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“Yes, ma’am,” the younger woman said, dipping into a quick curtsy before disappearing behind the door the footman held open.
“This is more than a concert, Jameson,” Marina said when they were alone... save for the ever-present household staff. “ThoughI’m elated to be honoring John’s legacy in this way, I need to change our reputation and the public’s view of us. Quite literally, the monarchy could be at stake.”
“Ma’am—”
“It’s time for fresh faces,” Marina interjected. “The public loves you.”
And hates Julian.
She didn’t have to speak the words. Everyone was aware of the public’s feelings about the next in line. And Julian’s complete indifference.
“The public barely knows me!”
Not for lack of trying.
“Before your father... passed away, he’d let the numerous important duties he performed for the Crown lapse. Responsibilities that came with the title. After his death, there was a lot of work to do. You should’ve taken his place. But your mother came to me and begged for more time. And John... John agreed with her.” Her expression hardened. “But there was always the understanding that at some point you would take your father’s place and assume his duties. That time is now.”
Grinding his teeth, Jameson tried one more time. “I don’t think I’m suited for what you—”
“I suppose I could tell you it doesn’t matter. That earlier today I drafted an announcement officially naming you a Counsellor of State.”
He sucked in a breath. Counsellors of State were senior members of the royal family who could carry out official duties on the queen’s behalf. They were usually the sovereign’s spouse and the first four in the line of succession who were over the age of twenty-one. Once an appointment was made, one was unable to refuse acceptance.The queen’s counsellors had been Julian, Catherine, Bettina, and the queen’s brother, Alcott.
“You already have your counsellors.”
“I never replaced John after he passed. Appointing you remedies that breach. I could tell you that I’ve made my decision and youwillbe the public face of the royal family for this event.” She folded her hands in her lap. “But I don’t want to do that. Not when this situation could benefit us both.”
He didn’t see how him voluntarily stepping into the public eye, when he’d spent his life trying to avoid its glare, could ever serve his interest.
Until Marina said, “For the past ten years, John’s charitable patronages have sat untended, almost in shambles.”
Jameson inhaled sharply. Each member of the royal family was linked to numerous public service organizations, to which they lent their names and, if they were so inclined, their efforts. The money was essential, but having the involvement of a royal patron made a world of difference. It took a charity from being just one in a crowd to one with top-notch exposure, drawing in other well-connected donors and driving thousands, even millions of pounds into the coffers each year. John had been passionate about his trust, having given his time and attention to a carefully curated list of worthwhile but lesser-known environmental charities.
“They’ve received the money he’d allotted, but the guidance, the counsel, the events that would continue garnering attention and donations...” Marina eyed him steadily. “If I don’t find a new patron for it, I may have to dissolve his trust.”
Jameson’s stomach dropped at the thought of disbanding all the work his grandfather had done. During their lunches, John often talked with great excitement about the new charity he’d discovereddoing good works in the areas of conservation or urban sustainability. He’d practically radiated enthusiasm.
She sighed. “I’d thought about giving it to Julian. He’s been asking for years.”
Give John’s esteemed and revered trust to his son? Whose idea of environmentalism was throwing his bloodied bow in the recycle bin after shooting an endangered rhino?
Bloody hell.
Despite his haze of anger, Jameson was aware that Marina was playing on his affinity for John. He was under no obligation to take over the trust. But how could he stand by and watch the life’s work of the man who’d mentored and advised him—who’d influenced him more than his own father!—be placed into the hands of a self-indulgent reprobate?
Willingly participate in this concert and Marina would give him John’s charitable trust. Fight her in any way, she’d force him to comply... and make him watch her dissolve the trust or, worse, give it to Julian.
Swallowing, he accepted his fate. “I’d be honored to represent you and the family in the celebration of Prince John and his life’s work. But once it’s over, I’m returning to Birmingham and my work there.”
“I knew I could count on you, Jameson.” With a tiny smile of satisfaction, the queen stood and smoothed her hands down the front of her dress. “The newly appointed ambassador from Denmark is waiting for me, but you don’t have to rush off. Stay as long as you’d like.”
She swept from the room in a cloud of rare, elegant florals, taking the aura of regality with her.
He wanted to throw something.
Kick something.
Yell.
He settled for loosening his tie, undoing the top button on his shirt, and raking a hand through his hair.
His grandmother had been correct. Thiswasmore than a concert. It was a gateway from the normal life he loved into the royal life he dreaded.
But at least one thing remained the same.
It wasstillthe Den of Despondency.
