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‘Yes, she did.’ This time he made sure there was no edge at all in his voice. ‘They discovered it quite early on in her pregnancy with me. Breast cancer. The treatments would have meant losing her baby, so she chose not to have treatment until after I was born.’ He could feel himself smiling, which was just strange because it was nothing to smile about. ‘But sadly by then it was too late. The cancer had progressed and she was terminal. There was nothing to be done for her.’
Freddie’s gaze had turned soft and something glowed in it, something he didn’t like. Something that looked like pain or sympathy, neither of which he needed or wanted.
His mother had given her life for him. He hadn’t had a choice about it. He’d planned to be the best damn king he could be so her sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain, but then his father had died and the young man he’d been back then had died along with him.
He was different now; the brain injury had seen to that. Oh, he pretended he was the same man—he remembered enough of who he’d once been to keep the veneer in place—but he wasn’t.
He was darker, more impatient, the grip on his temper less certain. When he’d been in hospital, he’d experienced waves of frustration and rage he hadn’t been able to control. He’d destroyed one hospital room and scared the daylights out of the staff. He’d done it in the palace too, once he was king, frequently breaking things in a fit of rage.
You haven’t done it since Freddie came.
No, it was true, he hadn’t. She calmed him, steadied him. But that didn’t mean the anger and frustration had gone away. They were still there and were still overwhelming sometimes.
He was aware that there was a sudden ache behind his eyes, a headache starting up. Instantly Freddie pushed back her chair and came around the table to him; she seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to his headaches and always knew when he was experiencing one. No doubt she was heading to give him one of those neck massages that really did lessen the pain. Except he didn’t want that from her now. That wasn’t her job, not anymore.Hewas going to take care of her, not the other way around, because that’s the one thing he could do, dammit.
So he shoved his own chair back and stood just as she approached. Her eyes widened and she took a quick step back. ‘Sir, I was just—’
‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘I don’t want you doing that anymore. It’s my job to take care of you, not vice versa.’
‘But I want to help you.’
‘I don’t care,’ he snapped, then took a breath, because he didn’t want to get angry and this was a silly thing to get angry about. ‘Look,’ he went on, more quietly. ‘There aren’t many things I can do well these days, but taking care of you is one of them. So, please. Let me do it.’
She stared at him a moment longer, her hands at her sides, half closed into fists. Then she let out a breath and nodded.
So he led her back to her seat, pulled out her chair for her to sit, then once she had, he came back to his seat and sat down. ‘Now,’ he said. ‘Tell me about your childhood. Tell me everything.’
CHAPTER NINE
WINIFREDSOONFOUNDherself at the centre of a whirlwind. First there was the announcement to parliament about the King of Isavere’s upcoming marriage, and then came the press release announcing it to the rest of Isavere.
Augustine had asked her if she wanted to change her name legally to Winifred and since she couldn’t bear the thought of not being his Freddie any longer, she decided she would.
She was nervous, though. The King of Isavere was a well-known playboy, which meant any woman he eventually chose to be his wife would be under scrutiny. Luckily, the palace PR machine was excellent and they spun it as an epic love story with a Cinderella element: the woman who’d been at the King’s side for so long, who’d eventually captured his heart, would now be his queen.
They’d discussed what they wanted to say about Winifred’s past and while she was nervous, she was determined it couldn’t stay secret. Someone would unearth her background eventually and it was better to confront it head on. The truth would allow the palace to control the story and pre-empt any media storm.
Augustine did some investigation into the circumstances around Aaron’s death and found that the police investigation into it had been lacklustre at best. No one was very interested in the death of a small-time drug dealer who already had a rap sheet littered with sex offenses, not to mention that the statute of limitations had run out. As for Winifred’s mother, she’d been sent to jail for dealing meth and wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon.
So, the press release included the details of her past, reiterating that the King had known the truth for years but had been protecting her. She had his full support, not to mention that of the American embassy, and he hoped she would also have the support of Isavere as a whole. And, oh, yes, she was expecting his heir.
To Winifred’s own surprise, everyone loved it. The people of Isavere had always taken a certain amount of pride in the fact that their king was a media star, and now their prospective queen had the most scandalous and delicious background; they were thrilled. They also loved the idea that the right woman for the king had been at his side for so many years and he’d just never noticed. The story was picked up by the press and soon the web and print newspapers were running the story of the king and his PA. A Cinderella story for the ages, one newspaper trumpeted.
Augustine also calmly set about finding her sisters and contact was soon made. Winifred had a video call with them, getting all weepy when they told her they had the most wonderful foster family, who’d given them the loving childhood they’d missed out on in the trailer park.
Annie was in the process of applying for colleges while the youngest had just started high school, but both girls were thrilled when Winifred asked them if they wanted to be her bridesmaids, because obviously they had to be.
Augustine was making good on his promise to take care of her, and while she wasn’t used to having someone look after her that way, she let him. She couldn’t forget the way he’d said,There aren’t many things I can do well these days, but taking care of you is one of them. So, please. Let me do it.
As if being a king and ruling a country for the past five years had been the ‘many things’ he couldn’t do. Which was ridiculous. She knew he struggled with the limitations the brain injury had given him, but he’d managed to rule very well. She helped him, it was true, but every decision was his. And it was because he couldn’t read that he preferred talking to people rather than relying on reports or other information, playing to his strengths, whether he was aware of it or not.
No, he couldn’t read a press release, but he certainly knew what to say. And he knew what his people wanted because he talked to them. Exhaustively.
But she’d never liked the way he talked about his own limitations. He was casual about them, dismissive almost, which was a clear sign that they bothered him.
It made her wonder why. Made her want to know what his thoughts and feelings were about the situation, because she wasn’t just his PA anymore. She would be his wife. And while it was true that she didn’t know what being a wife meant, she did know that she was supposed to support her husband. He’d already stated that their marriage would be a real one in every sense of the word, so in order to support him, she had to know him.
And while she might know him as a boss and a king, and the object of her fantasies, she didn’t know the man. The person he was behind all those things. He’d never revealed his vulnerabilities to her, apart from the headaches he got. But that was it.
