The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(54)
Kim rolls her eyes at my less than subtle hint. “I’ll find them in red.”
I smile gratefully. “I love you.”
Her expression is as sarcastic as it could be. “You couldn’t have told me this when you tried the dress on?” she moans, dialing someone, no doubt that one special person who can get anything anytime.
“See you at four.” I close the window and Damon starts driving, but instead of doing a left as he exits the gates, he turns right. I lean forward in my seat. “The stables, Damon.”
He looks at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes apologetic. “Major Davenport called, ma’am. The King wants to see you.”
I groan, going lax in my seat. I have only just left Kellington and my day is already on the slide. This doesn’t bode well. The only reason for my father to have Davenport call Damon is because come hell or high water, my driver will get me to Claringdon Palace as demanded. Unlike me, Damon can’t refuse. It’s more than his job is worth. “Why have I been summoned?”
“I don’t ask, I do.” Damon keeps his focus on the road, and I look out of the window, trying to stir up the fortitude and strength I need to endure another browbeating about Haydon. Or will it be regarding the banker?
I’M SURPRISED DAVENPORT ISN’T AWAITING my arrival at the entrance to Claringdon, as one would usually expect. Instead, the Master of the Household, Sid, is there, patiently standing tall. Damon opens the door for me, and I look at him, my bottom glued to the leather beneath it. He offers a small smile meant to reassure me. It doesn’t work.
“Ma’am,” he prompts subtly.
“Thank you, Damon.” I sigh, grudgingly pulling myself from the car. Breathing in some strength, I put one riding boot in front of the other and make my way up the grand steps to the palace’s entrance. “Good morning, Sid,” I greet as I pass him, entering the giant, bustling foyer of my parents’ home. Staff crisscross the highly polished marble floor before me, all precisely turned out in their royal uniforms. I must see two dozen staff members in the space of only a minute, but that is but a speck on the five-hundred strong workforce we have, some of who reside at the palace in one of the ninety staff bedrooms. Their life is to serve the Royal Family in one fashion or another.
“Your Highness,” Sid says as he joins my side. “This way.”
I fall into step behind him, performing an eye-roll of epic proportions. This way? Like I don’t know the route to my father’s office? “How are you, Sid?”
“Very good, ma’am.” That is all I get, as always, nothing to lead a conversation. “His Majesty is expecting you,” he says as we take the stairs up to the massive gallery landing.
“I would assume so, since he summoned me,” I mutter, nodding at one of the housekeepers who stops and bows her head as I pass, a pile of freshly laundered sheets resting across her arms. “Is my mother in residence?” I ask as we cross the space to the far right.
“Yes, ma’am. Having breakfast, if I’m not mistaken.” Sid reaches my father’s office, and I hear voices from beyond. Loud voices. Annoyed voices. My heart sinks as Sid opens the door. “Her Royal Highness Princess Adeline of England,” he announces.
I walk in to find my father pacing and Davenport standing by the fireplace, his tall frame as stiff as normal. The stick that’s constantly stuck up his arse is growing, making him seem taller and more intimidating every time I encounter him. When my father looks at me, I see angry lines distorting his round face. I don’t just bow my head out of respect and duty, I bow it to escape the furious glare burning me on the spot. “Your Majesty,” I murmur, seeing David Sampson out the corner of my eye sitting in one of the smoking chairs opposite my father’s grand antique desk. I only just manage to keep my curious frown at bay. What’s Haydon’s father doing here? My worry only grows when I spot Sir Don, too. Oh, great. He’s called in all the reinforcements.
“Sit down, Adeline,” the King orders, getting my feet moving to the chair next to David. As I near, I see he also looks awfully mad. I am outnumbered four to one.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, resting my hands in my lap. No one speaks, creating an uncomfortable silence. But before I can break it and push this along, get it over with, whatever it is, my father picks up something out of the red box that’s delivered to his office each morning. That box contains official papers on all matters of which the Sovereign needs to be consulted on, or simply advised on. So when a tabloid newspaper lands in front of me, folded, I’m somewhat confused. But then I spy the bottom half of a picture gracing the front page. I recognize those jean-clad legs. My sinking heart charges back up my throat and chokes me. Oh no. Those are my legs, and there is also a pair of man’s legs covered in combat trousers. I recognize what I can see of the background, too. The dining room at Kellington.
Unable to move and fold the paper out to confirm my fears, David takes the liberty of helping me out, reaching forward and flattening out the tabloid. The picture in all its awful glory is revealed. I wince, taking in the full image through squinting eyes, like it can lessen the impact of the shot. Oh God, there is me atop the dining table, a bottle of Belvedere in one hand, a man in the other. Our mouths are stuck firmly together. The headline reads …
WILD PARTIES, NEAT VODKA, AND ORGIES. THE LIFE OF A PRINCESS WHEN THE CAMERAS ARE OFF.