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A few or maybe a hundred breaths later, we returned to earth at last, cheek to cheek, skin to slippery skin, breaths and heartbeats mingling as one. With a tender kiss, Xavier pulled me up from the deck and into the water, bodies still united. Together, we melted into a pool of light and love.
PART2
THE DUKE
INTERLUDE I
THIRTEEN YEARS EARLIER
Xavier
“Have you figured out what you’ll say to your dad?”
The train chugged away from Oxenholme. It was a connector, but not taking it meant I’d have had to tell them I was coming. And I hated telling Rupert Parker I was coming. I hated everything about the man.
Fine, so maybe he tried a little. After Mum died and he chucked me into Eton, he took me to the estate that summer, had the shop closed up, and the flat rented out. I didn’t remember much about that summer except for the horses. Rupert liked horses, and he liked polo, and it was the only thing he could ever convince me to try for myself.
But off the pitch, his attempts at being a real “father” after sixteen years of absence were about as transparent as the last bits of hair he combed over his bald spot. Everything I did was a disappointment. Polo was all right, though I’d never love horses the way he did. I didn’t mind the fresh air, but stalking for deer was probably the most boring thing in the world when I’d have preferred playing football with the lads back home. And having a son who cooked? Please. I might as well have been panhandling every time he saw me in the kitchen.
I turned to where my neighbor Lucy was sitting beside me in the train car. She was a good sport, Luce. Had volunteered to ride up to Kendal with me a week early instead of staying in London for the start of the Season with the rest of her family.
It wasn’t really a surprise. Imogene, her sister, was all for the garden parties and horse shows, all the excuses for the rich and powerful of England to act like anything they did really mattered, but Lucy was never one for that scene. They tired her out too much, and there were too many potential allergens that could set off a reaction. Imagine going through life knowing you could experience spontaneous anaphylaxis for no apparent reason. All I knew was that it made her really sick sometimes and miss out on a lot.
I should have gone. I was supposed to go. But I’d have rather drowned myself in the Thames than wear tails and grin with all the other peacocks, especially since it was always the same bloody faces at every one of those things. Lucy and I had that in common too. I’d had enough of their pompous faces at Eton, then the American sort at Dartmouth, and back to England again at Christ Church.
Well, I was done with all that now. They’d have to lock me in a cage to get me back to university.
“I don’t really think it matters,” I told Lucy. “He’s going to go berserk no matter what I say anyway. Can’t think of a single duke who’d be happy his son got expelled for fighting for the fourth time. Unless it was fencing anyway.”
We both snorted, as if the idea of me dressed like a cotton swab with a rapier was equally ridiculous to both of us.
“I can’t imagine it was only the fight that got you expelled,” Lucy put in wryly. “More the punch you landed on the nose of an actual prince. And the fact that it got you the front page of theMail. Again.”
“I didn’t mean to hit the prince of Denmark. I was going for his mate. The royal idiot just got in the way.”
Right. So I was full of it. And yeah, it probably wasn’t the greatest thing to give a future king a black eye. Even worse, to do it outdoors, where plenty of students had iPhones and social accounts. And maybe I shouldn’t have shouted right after, “Who’s a prince now, bitch?”
Yeah. Not my finest hour.
I rubbed the bruise forming on my jaw. I had to give it to the prince—his punches were soft, but he’d managed to get in a few. Not enough to save himself a walloping, but enough to command a bit of respect.
“You’re lucky expulsion is all you got, you know,” Lucy pointed out.
“True. He could have had his great auntie lock me in the tower. He’s related to the queen, right? All the royals are related somehow.”
“Don’t be an ass, Xavi. No one gets locked in the Tower of London anymore. She might have had you thrown into Broadmoor, though. You could argue insanity.”
I snorted.
“Here, I brought some ice from the club car. You really do look dreadful.”
Begrudgingly, I accepted the offered bag of ice and pressed it to my jaw, which was admittedly throbbing after yesterday’s scuffle.
“Are they still giving you problems, then?” Lucy asked after about ten minutes.
“Different school, same jokes. Half-breed bastards are easy pickings, don’t you know?”
“Even at uni? I’d have thought it would have stopped after Eton.”
