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I was hoping she would ask.
It was much better talking about my plans that were not related to matters of the heart. The best thing I could do was be honest with Mother, to be crystal clear that there was no way I would abandon this project now that Grace had planted the seed of possibility in my head.
“Conrad is the general manager with Verdana Construction—Edward is the lead architect,” I said. “We’re going to discuss construction of the new Royal Academy of Arts, timeframe, design, budget, and so on.”
“Don’t you think you are acting prematurely on this?” Mother asked. “It would be wise to wait until the coalition is in place before moving forward.”
“I agree—I’m not signing anything just yet,” I said. “I merely want to get the ball rolling and see what we are working with. You can’t fault me for being excited about the project.” I grinned. “I’d be happy to discuss it with you after dinner. I really need to make this call.”
Mother eyed me suspiciously. “Very well.”
Disappointment lingered as my pool time with Grace was abruptly cut short. The knowledge of her love for me only heightened the desire to be with her. I found myself yearning to tell her that I loved her in return, but that would have to be after dinner.
After showering and dressing, I walked toward my office to do a video conference with Verdana Construction. Unfortunately, I did not get far, as Henri stopped me near the billiards room.
“Your Highness,” he said. “Her Majesty would like to speak to you immediately on the terrace.”
“Did she give a reason?” I asked, hoping that I could delay the conversation with her until after dinner.
“I’m sorry—she did not,” Henri said. “Only that it was urgent.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
I made my way toward the terrace, wondering what could be so important that it could not wait until we were at the dinner table. At least, I knew it had nothing to do with the wedding, since that was finally behind me. Was it the “Macarena” video that I had posted online? Had it already gone viral? That must be it.
Stepping onto the terrace, I was immediately engulfed by a sea of beautiful orchids, their delicate, colorful petals reaching out in all directions, everywhere I looked. My brow furrowed in bewilderment. Were they part of the memorial for Father? Why were there so many?
A lightbulb flickered to life in my thoughts, then the pieces immediately fell into place. These were the orchids that Grace had brought back from Romania, the ones that were supposed to be in our garden shade house, slowly adapting to our climate for the wedding. I had completely forgotten about them. But why were they on the terrace? And why was Miss DuPont still here, and talking with Mother, both with serious looks on their faces?
“Welcome back, Miss DuPont,” I greeted her, attempting to appear calm. “How was France and your grandfather’s one hundredth birthday party?”
Miss DuPont hesitated with her response to me. “Hello, Your Highness. The trip and his party were both wonderful. Thank you for asking.”
Maintaining composure, I said, “I’m so glad to hear?—”
Mother cut through the pleasantries. “I know the truth, Oliver. All of it.”
I swallowed hard as a particular conversation came to mind.
Words Miss DuPont had said before going away . . .
Please be aware that if I am questioned directly by Queen Annabelle about this particular matter, I will be forced to tell the truth.
Had Miss DuPont told Mother of my initial plans to sabotage my wedding? Would it even matter, now that the wedding had been canceled?
Miss DuPont stood next to Mother with a worried look etched across her face. My gut warned me that it still mattered, and that I might be walking into a minefield, especially when Grace entered the terrace from the opposite end and walked toward us.
Mother wasted no time dismantling the facade. “I cannot believe you had Grace cancel the order with the florist for magenta peonies and then sent her on a ridiculous trip to Romania to bring back one hundred and twenty-five Adana Orchids we did not want or need.”
“What?” Grace exclaimed, staring at me in disbelief. “Why would you do that? You told me you wanted to honor your father at the wedding with these orchids. That’s why I had the gardener move them here to the terrace for your dinner this evening. I wanted to do something special for you and your family. You told me they were his favorite flowers.”
“King Henric’s favorite flower was the violet delphinium,” Mother revealed. “The truth is, Oliver wanted you to fail. His only goal was to cause problems with the wedding planning because he wanted me to believe the marriage was cursed, so I would cancel it. He sent Miss DuPont to France under the guise of celebrating her grandfather’s birthday. Then he hired you, knowing you would make a mess of things, based on your awful reputation.”
Grace’s mouth gaped, her eyes shifting between Mother and me, searching for any sign of denial.
“Is this true?” she asked.
I could not lie. Especially since I had given Miss DuPont my word that I would take full responsibility if this conversation ever came up in the future with Mother.
