Bride Ball Read online

  Kambry opened her eyes and met his gaze, tears threatening. “If she was lucky, and that’s unlikely. Amber was sheltered by Lady Reanne.”

  “That was sheltered?” Amber had had nothing of her own, save the books her father had left her...and likely only those, because Mora and Marquita didn’t read, because they felt it quaint that Amber read. She’d worked from sunup to sundown and beyond, serving her family to avoid being turned out...tormented, taunted...

  His head spun.

  Kambry’s nod broke him from his recitation of Amber’s standing.

  “I don’t understand.” He hoped he didn’t. “What worse thing would happen to Erika, if we didn’t insist on keeping her?”

  “My mother’s term for it is...” Her jaw quivered, and she seemed unable to continue.

  He braced himself for something distasteful. “Go on.”

  A tear slid down her cheek. “Dis... Disposing of a bastard,” she choked out. “You can’t let them, Darren. You can’t.” A note of panic crept into her voice at that.

  Words stuck in his throat, and several equally-horrible possibilities warred in his mind. He was afraid to ask whether an orphans’ home or an “accidental death” was closer to the truth. Even exposure to the point of death wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, he supposed. Perhaps Kambry didn’t know which her mother meant. Either way, the question would upset her further.

  Darren nodded. “Erika is never to leave my sight with Marquita or her mother. I don’t care what it costs me; she is our child, Kambry. If-if you would agree to—”

  “I will.” Again, it was definitive, unswerving.

  He stroked his fingertips along her cheek. “Will you feed her, while I speak to my father?”

  Kambry nodded her agreement.

  Darren rose, planting a soft kiss on Kambry’s forehead. He strode away, his mind mired in plans and laws.

  Matthew was in the study, an after-dinner whiskey in his hand. “A girl, I hear,” he noted with a raised eyebrow that reaffirmed his qualms about the original deal, as posed. “You may have better luck with Kambry, though. The sooner this is settled with a wife in place, the better.”

  Darren steeled himself for an argument. “Whether Kambry carries my heir or not, I’m making her my wife.”

  “We’ve discussed this.”

  “I’m dismissing Marquita. There is no chance she’ll ever give me an heir.”

  “Because she labors badly?” his father asked in disbelief.

  “Because she only wants my name and position. She is cold and uncaring to myself and Erika. She—”

  “Erika?”

  “My daughter,” he explained patiently.

  “Women often lack the motherly emotions for several days or weeks after a birth,” Matthew dismissed his concerns. “True, your mother loved you so much it made her cry in joy on her confinement bed, but not every woman feels so much.”

  “This is not parting depression,” Darren informed him.

  Matthew waved him off. “You will see. Even the hardest woman, when faced with a child—”

  “She came into the agreement planning to dispose of my daughter, if she failed to make the place of my wife. That is not a fleeting thing. That is...is premeditated and heartless.”

  His father went still, his hand fisted on his glass so hard that his knuckles stood out white against his tanned skin. “You believe this?” he asked.

  “I know it.”

  Matthew drained his whiskey, wiping the back of his hand over his lips. He was silent, nearly brooding.

  “I won’t give Erika up,” Darren stated. “If it costs me double—”

  “It will,” his father added. “Double or more. I knew it would go badly when this scheme involved Mora.”

  “Marquita’s mother?” Darren had heard enough about Lady Mora to guess that few held her in high regard. In fact, he hadn’t heard a single favorable comment about the lady yet.

  Matthew nodded.

  “I don’t think I understand.” No. That was inaccurate. Darren definitely didn’t understand.

  “When Benjamin was searching for a wife, Mora wanted the position.”

  “She was chief competitor to Alana.” Darren had heard that from Edward while they’d stayed at Elmstead’s manor, after he’d convinced Amber to contract with him.

  “It was a bitter rivalry that had every woman in the kingdom taking sides and every man taking bets. Most of the ladies took Alana’s side, though she was lowborn. Even then, few people liked Mora.” There was no amusement in his tone.

  Darren took a seat. “Go on.”

  “It was meant as... Prank is too tame a word for it. It was underhanded and riding the rail between legal and not. Of course, it’s highly illegal now...thanks to Mora.”

  “What is?” Why did nothing his father said make sense?

  Matthew took a deep breath and started in again. “Our father threw a series of Bride Balls, hoping to find matches for both Benjamin and myself. There is nothing quite as thrilling to a young man as a sexual event.”

  “Yes, I know.” Darren hoped never to attend one again, but he remembered well how caught up one could become. His own difficulties were at least partly to blame on his actions in the heat of the ball.

  “Mora slipped an aphrodisiac into Benjamin’s cup, expecting to seduce him at her most fertile. Aphrodisiacs weren’t illegal then, as long as both parties were willing, and Mora reasoned... What Benjamin didn’t know he’d befallen wouldn’t harm her. He’d been drinking heavily and might have believed it was the alcohol alone.”

  “Uncle Benjamin was affected by an illegal aphrodisiac and bedded Mora?” Darren asked, horrified by the concept.

  And I considered using one to sleep with the viper’s daughter? Oh, the Goddess has a vicious sense of humor, some days.

  His father laughed harshly. “Not precisely, no. You see, Alana intercepted the cup and drank it down. It was a very potent mixture, and... Let’s just say that Benjamin was very appreciative...publicly and privately.”

  “That seems to have ended well.” Rumor had it that Alana was pregnant again, and Benjamin was strutting around like a prize buck.

  “The rest of that night is rather confused, even to me, and I was sadly...present for it. As near as the guards were able to piece it together, a group of the ladies decided to repay the prank.”

  Darren groaned at the thought of it. “Who did they pair her with?”

  Matthew didn’t answer. He refilled his glass and emptied it again.

  “You?” Good Goddess.

  “In my defense, they drugged us both...heavily. If the testing is to be believed, at least twice the dosage we should have been given. More likely three times or more, but after hours...

  “I vaguely remember more than one undressing me and teasing me up, but it was Mora who got the fill of it.” He paused, swallowing hard. “More than once, I’ve been told.

  “Somewhere along the way, your mother shamed them into admitting that they’d gone too far. The others were charged with caring for Mora, and...”

  “You and Mother?” he guessed.

  “I’d had quite a lot of the aphrodisiac,” Matthew admitted. “In the morning... Goddess, but I still wanted her. We were married within two months and expecting you soon after.”

  “It ends there?” Darren had expected more.

  His father sighed. “I wish it had.”

  There was a tense moment of silence between them.

  “Mora arrived at the door two months into your mother’s pregnancy, showing herself.”

  Darren’s mind rioted, and he forced himself to reason that Marquita was younger than he was by a full two years; she wasn’t his sister, thank the Goddess. His calmer mind assured him that his father never would have let him take a close relative as a lover.

  Matthew waited for his mind to process that before he continued. “She had the results of the paternity tests in hand. How she managed that without my knowledge is still a mystery
to me.”

  “It was your child, from the night you were drugged.” Darren didn’t question it.

  “It was a boy. She...” He reached for the decanter again.

  “I believe I could use one.” Did he have an older brother somewhere, heir but for a twist of fate?

  Matthew poured two, handed one to Darren, and took a seat next to his son.

  His younger son.

  On that thought, they both drank deeply. The whiskey burned a fire trail down Darren’s throat and then his gut.

  His father started speaking again, as if to unburden himself. “Mora seemed certain I would turn your mother out for her. After all...” His voice went bitter. “She carried my heir...if I chose to claim him.”

  “You didn’t, obviously.”

  “I love your mother. Whether she carried a son or a daughter, I wouldn’t have hurt her for anything, even the certainty of an heir.”

  “As I love Kambry.”

  Matthew managed a weak smile. “I hope she carries a son. This will be much easier and less expensive, if she carries your heir.”

  “How expensive was it for you?” Darren asked bluntly.

  The rest of the whiskey disappeared down his father’s throat. Darren followed in his wake, certain he was about to need a drink. Better to beat it to the need.

  “Without my agreement, the babe was useless to Mora. Had it been Benjamin’s child, he’d be Hein, and neither of us would be. But it was my son.

  “Mora wanted to be my wife, at least in name. A position as my mistress was beneath her aims.”

  “You offered that?” Darren asked in disbelief. “You offered her a place as your mistress to claim your son by her?”

  “When I learned what she intended...yes. I offered it. I would have given her a cottage, somewhere your mother would never have had to see her. Mora refused outright.”

  “She terminated?” he guessed.

  Matthew laughed harshly. “I offered... Servants, money, a place in the country... Mora told me that she wouldn’t spoil her body for a bastard she’d have to pawn off on someone anyway. She left the proof behind with me to consider.

  “She waited a week for me to change my mind. Then she had the notice of termination sent to me. I still have it. I should have burned it long ago, but I couldn’t.”

  Darren wanted to offer comfort for his loss, but how did a man do that, when the loss was so deep and the reminders so present?

  “Maybe her inability to produce an heir for Montberry was divine justice. I’ve prayed for the last two and a half decades for her to pay for what she did to us...your mother and me.”

  Darren took a calming breath. “I will never release Erika to them. I’ll ask Uncle Benjamin for a judgment first. I’ll have him petition the Counselors on my behalf.” Though the final judgment would be handed down by the Counselors, they took the wishes of the king close to heart.

  “You may have to.” He sighed, laying a hand on Darren’s shoulder. “The Goddess was kind in giving you this chance. Don’t let the young bitch play you as her mother played me.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Darren sat in bed, half-asleep, Erika cradled on his arm, a bottle in her mouth. She sucked in bursts that announced her descent into dreams. He hadn’t slept well in three days, but he refused to have his daughter raised by nurses and nannies, as Marquita had suggested.

  Kambry had been no end of aid, even taking on babe duty while Darren napped, but she was late in her term. He drew the line at compromising his second child to make caring for the first easier. Though he wanted Kambry in his bed, she would only get unbroken sleep in her own.

  The door clicked open, and Darren looked up, prepared to send Kambry back to bed.

  It wasn’t Kambry in the doorway. Marquita stood, wreathed in light. Darren controlled the urge to shout her out, his jaw clenching in fury that she’d dared come here.

  “You wanted something?” he asked.

  “You didn’t come to see me.” She feigned hurt at it.

  “I’ve been busy with Erika.” And you made it clear you didn’t want me near.

  Marquita’s nose scrunched up in dislike, and he took perverse pleasure in the fact that she hated the name he’d chosen. Kambry liked it, and Kambry would be Erika’s mother.

  She sighed. “There are nurses and nannies to care for her. You needn’t lose sleep over her.”

  “Erika is my daughter. She won’t be raised by servants.” That was one thing Darren had no complaints about; his parents had always been there for him.

  An unpleasant smile settled on Marquita’s face. “You’ve decided to make me your wife? How wonderful.”

  “I’ve decided nothing of the sort,” he assured her.

  Her smile disappeared. “I don’t understand.”

  Darren held his tongue, wanting solid legal advice and backing before he made his move. Moreover, Kambry still carried, and he wouldn’t chance this selfish bitch harming her when he dismissed her.

  “Darren?” she prompted him.

  “We will discuss the future at the end of your confinement. You should rest.” With that, he waved her away.

  * * * *

  Kambry looked up at the sound of a light knocking, swallowing a lump of fear.

  It can’t be Marquita, she reasoned. After her sister’s visit to Darren’s rooms, he’d set guards with orders to keep Marquita and Mora away from both Kambry and Erika. At the moment, both were settled on her bed, which meant at least four of his guards were in the corridor. There was no way her sister could make it to the door.

  It’s probably a servant.

  They usually announce themselves.

  The knock sounded again.

  A guard knocking for a laden servant?

  “Yes?” The apprehension persisted; Kambry couldn’t admit the person blind.

  “Lady Sirana to see you, Lady Kambry.”

  Shock stole her ability to speak. Darren’s mother had studiously avoided spending time with her...and with Marquita, to be fair. “Come in,” she invited.

  Rising from the bed was no easy task, and she’d only half accomplished it when Lady Sirana strode in.

  The lady stopped and stared, her brow furrowing. “What are you doing?”

  Kambry settled on the edge of the mattress, sighing. “Making a poor attempt at rising to meet you, I’m afraid. My body does not currently support my manners.”

  “Which is why pregnant women who show do not rise for anyone but the king and queen, and confined or nursing mothers rise for no one.”

  She winced at the rebuke, no matter how softly delivered it was. “The former sadly missing from my mother’s instruction,” she offered by way of explanation and apology.

  “But easily corrected.” Sirana dismissed the lack as inconsequential. There was no snub in the comment, though Kambry knew the lady and Mother had some history of animosity.

  Sirana crossed to the far side of the bed and looked down at Erika, a wistful smile curving her lips. “May I?” she asked.

  Kambry paused in the process of settling back into the pillows. “Erika is your granddaughter.” Why would Sirana ask permission to hold her?

  “And you are her mother, I’m told.” She deferred to Kambry as such. It was enough to make the head spin.

  Answering such a statement was problematic. “Darren says it, but...”

  Sirana settled on the mattress, her gaze locked on the babe. She offered Erika a finger, cooing out a compliment as a pudgy hand circled it. “Do you wish to be her mother?”

  “Of course, which means Marquita will stop at nothing to deny me that wish...and Darren that wish, once she scents his aim. Marquita doesn’t often lose.”

  “Neither does your mother. That doesn’t mean they can’t be beaten.”

  “If you don’t mind—”

  “I do.” It was delivered kindly but with a finality to it.

  “May I ask one thing?”

  “I don’t promise to answer, but I won’t be
offended by the asking.”

  Kambry took a calming breath. “Fair enough. I imagine Darren doesn’t want me to hear the tale?”

  Sirana raised her head, smiling sadly. “I imagine you’re correct about that. Darren worries. We all do.”

  “My mother was in rare form,” she muttered.

  That prompted a heartfelt smile. “And the question is?”

  “Which of you won?”

  Her smile disappeared, and she swallowed down what might have been a lump or a sob. Kambry had given up hope of an answer when Sirana offered one.

  “It couldn’t properly be called a win for anyone. On some level, I think we all lost and we all suffered.” She looked as if she might say more but didn’t.

  Kambry stared at Erika, her heart aching. “That’s what I’m afraid of. If Marquita looks to lose what she wants, everyone will.”

  Sirana’s hand closed over hers. “You fear you’ll lose Darren?”

  “I hope not,” she admitted. “But the loss would change him, and I shudder to think of what it would mean for Erika.”

  “Which is something you shouldn’t be worrying about, in your condition. Let Darren handle the details. Let me handle them.”

  Kambry nodded solemnly. It did no good to argue it; Darren’s entire family treated her as if she was made of glass.

  “In the meantime, we have a wedding to plan.”

  That pronouncement left Kambry gasping for air and missing at every word she sought to use.

  “You will let me help plan it, won’t you?” There was something of a plea in that.

  “I highly doubt my mother would care to,” she blurted out. Her face burned in embarrassment.

  Sirana laughed heartily. “Then you’ll need a replacement.”

  Kambry joined her, her heart light. “I suppose I will.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Sira stopped by.” Alana mentioned it in a voice that was falsely nonchalant.

  Benjamin raised his head, abandoning the report in his hand, his attention piqued. “There’s something wrong?”

  She settled on the arm of his chair, as she’d often done before they married. “Darren wishes to remove the parental rights of one of his mistresses. He needs to know his legal rights, before he proceeds.”