The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(34)



“If there is anything I can do,” my father says, smiling sadly at Sabina. It’s a rare display of compassion and comfort. “Please, just ask. You’ve been so loyal and committed to my family for many years. Maybe you should go home.”

Sabina removes her arm from the King’s touch, leaving his hand falling to his side. “Thank you, Your Majesty. But I would rather keep myself busy.”

My father nods his understanding, pulling on his tweed coat before settling his flat-cap atop his head. “You have always been a fighter.” He motions for one of his footman to come to him, accepting his shotgun and checking the chamber.

“I have,” Sabina says quietly, taking a tissue from the pocket of her Barbour jacket and wiping her nose. I’m sure I detect a flash of resentment as she utters her agreement. “One needs to be in this world, Your Majesty.”

“One does,” my father agrees easily, almost automatically.

I watch as Sabina stares at my father, who is now distracted, inspecting his gun. Yes, that’s resentment, easily detectable on Sabina’s face, whose features are normally so soft and serene. I’ve never seen this hardness in her expression before.

“Princess Adeline.”

I jump and swing around, finding a stoic Davenport looming behind me. I breathe out and roll my eyes. “You don’t have to creep up on me, Major,” I mutter.

“No creeping, ma’am. Perhaps you were too engrossed to hear my approach.” He passes me, and I follow him to my father, aware that my cover is blown. Damn it. The King’s right-hand man never misses a bloody thing, which is undoubtedly why he carries one of the longest records of royal service. He could have retired three years ago, but he has devoted his life to serving the Sovereign. He’ll probably outlive my father, too. I’m told the Major has never taken a sick day in his career, not when serving my father, and not when serving my grandfather either. His commitment is unquestionable, yet I often wonder how lonely he is when he is off duty, albeit rarely. The miserable old goat has never married, and he has no children. Not that I could imagine the cold, stony stickler ever being loving toward a woman and kids. In fact, I can’t imagine the Major being anything less than stiff and impassive with anyone.

“Your Majesty,” Davenport says as he approaches my father. “The Prime Minister has requested an audience.”

“He has? Outside of our usual weekly meet? Whatever for?” My father’s interest in the man who runs the country is, as always, lacking. Not that I’m included in affairs of a political nature, but one thing I do know is that my father believes it’s preposterous that in these modern times, the Sovereign has no say over who runs his country for him.

My father continues to faff with his shotgun while Davenport mentions the Chancellor of the Exchequer and something about this year’s budget. “Shall I confirm four thirty, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, yes. I should have popped a few birds by three.” He points his gun to the sky and mock shoots a real pigeon. “Get the clays loaded.”

“Sir.” Davenport nods and leaves to relay the King’s orders to whoever’s controlling the trap for Father’s shooting session.

“Adeline.” The King finally notices my presence, turning his pot belly toward me and pulling a cigar from the inside of his tweed jacket. A footman is under his nose with a lighter before the fat, brown stick makes it to his mouth. “I didn’t see you on the schedule to ride today.”

“Last-minute plan,” I answer, glancing at my phone when it rings. It’s him again. “Sabina said she is free to spend a few hours with Spearmint and me.” I slip my phone into my pocket as Father sucks on the end of his cigar. “But if it is a bad time, Sabina, I understand.”

“No, no.” She waves off my concern as Father and Davenport head off to the Land Rover, and I sag a little, glad I avoided another earache about Haydon and my obligation to marry him. “Let’s go see that fine beast of yours,” Sabina says. “I haven’t had a chance to saddle him up just yet.”

“No problem. I would actually like to do it myself.” The more time I kill, the better. I will muck out his stables too, and even plough the field for horse shit if I must. Anything to keep me busy. “Are you okay, Sabina?”

“I’m fine.” She smiles and links arms with me, and we start to wander to the north stable block. “It’s Colin. He was admitted into the hospital last night with a suspected heart attack.”

“Oh my goodness,” I gasp. Sabina’s husband, like Sabina, is so active, his racehorse training skills making sure of it. A heart attack? I suddenly feel rotten, not only for Sabina, who I’m so fond of, but for Haydon, too. I was so short with him last night. Did he know his grandfather was unwell when I dismissed him from my suite? “Sabina, you shouldn’t be here. Please, I can see to things myself.”

“Like I said to His Majesty, distraction is better. Besides, Colin’s sleeping mostly. I’m of no use fussing over him when there are an army of nurses to do that. In fact, he dismissed me himself.”

“Does David know? And Haydon?”

The mention of her grandson and son brightens her smile. “David escorted me to the hospital late last night. We didn’t want to worry Haydon unnecessarily so delayed advising him of his grandfather’s condition until this morning.”

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