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“Lawrence and Alena loved each other very much,” Mandy confirmed quietly. “But of course he couldn’t marry a commoner.” Her voice rose slightly and she spat out the final word.
“Lawrence was the heir to the throne of his country. He had certain duties.”
“I know all about that garbage. Alena told me. And those duties didn’t include making any of his own choices or falling in love, but he did both of those things in spite of his family.”
And look what came of his defying his duty, Stephan thought, but he refrained from saying it. Obviously Mandy Crawford approved of such rebellion.
“And Joshua is the result,” he said instead.
“My son,” she said firmly. “Everything about his adoption is totally legal. When he was born—” She bit her lush lower lip, and a film of moisture sprang to her eyes. To his amazement, Stephan felt a sudden wash of grief as if Mandy’s emotions were so strong they reached from her all the way inside him.
She cleared her throat and continued. “I presume the Taggarts told you that Alena died giving birth to Josh. They were there when she said she wanted me to raise her son. Lawrence was there, too. Of course, the Taggarts didn’t know he was a prince. Alena and I were the only ones who knew that. She told everyone else he was a poet. He was, you know. That’s what he really wanted to do, not go back and spend his life in a fishbowl, doing and feeling only what your rules of royalty permitted him to do and feel.”
“I know all about his hobby of writing poetry. My brother and I were very close.” Stephan studied his clasped hands. Not all that close, evidently. Not close enough for Lawrence to tell him about Alena or Joshua. “He was instructed to keep his identity a secret. The idea was for him to attend your schools and study your culture without anyone realizing who he was. That was the only way he could hope to truly learn things. The poetry was a part of that disguise.”
Mandy shook her head. “The poetry was part of Lawrence, the part that Alena fell in love with. Anyway, orders from the king or whatever had nothing to do with why Lawrence kept his identity secret from Alena’s parents. The Taggarts may live in a million-dollar house in Dallas, excuse me, Highland Park—that’s much more prestigious, you know—but they both grew up right here in Willoughby. They were dirt poor until Alena’s father hit it big wildcatting—”
“Wildcatting?” Stephan had an image of a man fighting with a wildcat. He’d heard some men wrestled alligators in America. Anything was possible over here.
“Oil wells. He made a bundle in oil, then invested it in the computer business. That’s when they really hit it big. They moved to Dallas when Alena was thirteen, and they’ve been trying to break into society ever since. If they’d known Lawrence was a prince, they’d have gone totally bonkers, bragged to the world, conspired to somehow get their daughter married to him, and when she died, they’d have kept Joshua or given him to you. Whichever, neither Alena nor Lawrence wanted that for their son.”
Stephan thought of the rough-cut couple he’d met, of their eager, obsequious attitudes and knew Mandy was right about them.
“Since they didn’t know about Lawrence,” she continued, “Alena’s parents were only too happy to sign the adoption papers giving complete custody to me. It’s all legal.”
“But Lawrence didn’t sign any adoption papers.”
Her jaw tightened. “No. Alena didn’t put his name on the birth certificate. It was something they both agreed on. Neither of them wanted to take any chances that their son would ever be discovered and have to live the way Lawrence had to live.”
Stephan’s mouth went suddenly dry. He reached for the glass of tea and sipped some of it. It didn’t really taste very much like tea, but it was wet and cool. “As the heir to the throne, Lawrence led a life of luxury. He had everything he wanted.”
Mandy’s delicate chin firmed, and white pressure lines appeared around her full lips. “Your brother had everything he wanted except love. He found that when he met Alena, and that’s the gift he wanted to give his son. My family may not have a lot of money. Joshua will never ride to school in a limousine or have a private tutor, but he has one thing neither of his parents ever had...plenty of love.”
For a moment Stephan lost the thread of the conversation as he observed Mandy. What must it be like to experience such passion? Her emotions were completely out of control, swaying with the circum-stances... anger, grief, defiance. It was something he’d been schooled from infancy not to do...and he was totally intrigued.
He drew himself up and drank more of the cool, sweetened tea. “If Joshua truly is Lawrence’s son—”
Mandy shot up from her chair, her eyes blazing green fire, scorching him even from that distance. “If he’s Lawrence’s son? Exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
Again he found himself so fascinated by her passion he was momentarily speechless.
Vera Crawford stood, put a hand on her granddaughter’s shoulder and stretched up to murmur something so low Stephan couldn’t catch all the words.
Mandy nodded—reluctantly, he thought—then sank into her chair, leaned back and faced him defiantly. “If you have any doubts that Joshua is Lawrence’s son, then maybe you’d just better haul your—”
“Mandy,” the older woman interjected in a warning tone.
“Sorry, Nana.” But he could tell she wasn’t at all sorry for what she’d said or whatever she’d been about to say. She spoke the words to placate her grandmother, but continued to glare at him. “Perhaps it would be best if you took the next plane back to your big, cold palace and left us commoners to muddle along the best we can.” Her amended suggestion was delivered in a fairly good imitation of his own speech patterns and he found himself wanting to smile in spite of the insult.
“A simple DNA test will resolve any doubts.”
“I see.” She clasped her hands on the table in front of her, again in imitation of him, and he braced himself for her next jab. She smiled tightly, her eyes still stormy. “You know, it just goes to show how deceptive appearances can be. I’d never have guessed until this very minute that you were dumb as dirt.”
“Mandy,” Vera Crawford cautioned again, though her tone was less stringent this time. She didn’t really disapprove of her granddaughter’s behavior.
“Dumb as dirt?” Stephan repeated.
“That’s the only possible explanation for your assumption that I’d agree to a DNA test that would leave my son open to being shipped off to an island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean where the people are more frigid than the climate!”
“If Joshua is Lawrence’s son—and I believe he is or I wouldn’t be here,” he added hastily, “he is a prince, a descendant of a long line of kings. He should be permitted to come to his country and learn our customs and laws. One day, when my father steps down from the throne, Joshua will become a king. He’ll be the ruling monarch of an entire country.”
“You know, if Lawrence couldn’t marry Alena because of his duty to his country, it doesn’t seem exactly fair to me that now her son should be forced into princehood.”
He smiled wryly at her na?vetе. “Fair or not, that’s the way it is. The decree dates from 1814.”
She waved a hand. “I know all about King Orwell and that stupid decree, and I don’t care. The man’s been dead almost two hundred years.”
“What decree, Mr. Reynard?” Rita asked.
“King Ormond,” Stephan corrected. “The Decree of Illegitimate Ascension. In the early 1800s King Ormond II produced one son who died in infancy and seven daughters. At his death, his illegitimate son by his acknowledged mistress came forth to claim the throne. Stafford was already popular with the court and the people. He was smart and well liked and he had a lot of good ideas for running the country. Even the queen approved of him, so the precedent was set. If Lawrence had produced a legitimate heir, Joshua would have been bypassed. But Lawrence did not. When my father steps down, Joshua will succeed to the throne. He may choose to abdicate that throne, but he should have the right to make that choice.”
Mandy lifted her glass of tea and took a deep, slow swallow. Her eyes were closed, the long lashes casting a shadow on her porcelain skin. She set the drink down carefully, drew a slim finger through the condensation on the outside of the glass and turned it a couple of times, her attention seemingly focused on the activity. Finally she again clasped her hands and looked up at him, and he saw that she was no longer angry but sad.
“It broke Lawrence’s heart that he wouldn’t be around to see his son grow up. When he put Josh in my arms, he cried.”
She paused as if to let that phenomenon sink in. Stephan wasn’t as shocked as he might have been, as he had been the first time he’d come upon his brother unexpectedly, a few months after his return from America, and found the tears streaming down his cheeks. Now he knew why.
“Your brother had a heart,” she continued. “He cried when Alena died. He cried when he had to leave his son. Joshua has his father’s heart and his mother’s soul. He’s a warm, caring little boy who will grow into a warm, caring man.”
“He’s a prince. He has royal blood in his veins. He belongs to his country.”
“It’s always bothered me a little,” she went on as if he hadn’t spoken, “that Joshua’s family would never get to see him. My brother and his wife are expecting a baby in December, and I can’t wait to see my niece or nephew. I’m almost as excited as they are. If someone told me I’d never get to hold that little baby, never get to see him grow up, I’d be devastated. When I walked in and saw you here, I was terrified that you’d be able to take Josh from me. I was terrified that you’d insist on holding him and you’d fall in love with him immediately and you’d tell me I had no right to keep your nephew from you. Lawrence said you were an all-right guy, so I was worried.”
“Then you agree that the boy should be returned to his family.” Even as he spoke the words, he knew they weren’t true.
She arched an eyebrow. “But you didn’t do any of those things I’d expected and feared. You didn’t show any interest in Joshua because he’s your nephew and a neat little kid. Your only interest is in your stupid country. You have no heart, no emotions. You’re exactly the way Lawrence described the rest of his family. You’re a part of the reason he didn’t want the son he loved to return there and be as lonely and miserable as your family made him.”
She slid her chair back and stood, then leaned over the table and for one wild, heart-pounding moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. Instead she grabbed his tie by the knot and drew him closer. Her face was mere inches from his, and he could see a dusting of golden freckles that her makeup didn’t quite hide across her nose, could feel her breath warm and sweet, but mostly he could see the flames that blazed in her eyes. “You go on back to that country and take over the throne as next in line of succession, produce cold-hearted, unfeeling sons who can carry on the family tradition, but don’t you even think about trying to take Joshua with you or I’ll teach you the meaning of the term Texas wildcat, and I’m not talking about anything to do with oil!”
She released her grip on his tie, whirled around and strode out the back door, slamming it behind her. “Would you like another glass of tea, Mr. Reynard?” Rita asked.
Stephan blinked then suppressed an insane urge to laugh. Her daughter had made an impassioned speech, threatened him with the wrath of a Texas wildcat and left. Even so, Rita Crawford observed the social amenities. Perhaps Texas and Castile weren’t so different after all.
“No, thank you,” he said and rose from the table. “I must be leaving now. I know this has been a big shock for all of you. Here’s the number of the hotel I’m staying at in Dallas. When you’ve had a chance to assimilate everything, please call me there.”
Vera Crawford nodded. “We will, Mr. Reynard.”
Stephan considered setting a time limit for them to call, warning them that if he didn’t hear from them in three days, he’d contact them again.
But that was unnecessary. They’d call. They were honorable people.
He hadn’t been prepared to like this family, but he did.
Mandy was wrong when she’d labeled him unfeeling. In the short time he’d been with her, she’d caused him to feel many things—respect, amusement, admiration and, last but not least, desire in the age-old way in which a man desires a woman. Royalty was not always free to indulge such desire, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel it.
He, like Mandy’s mother, realized the value of observing the amenities, of refusing to indulge emotions and let them influence one’s life. As a member of the royal family—the future king, unless Joshua’s claim to the throne could be validated—he could never afford that indulgence.
Yet as he stood and said goodbye to the Crawfords, and everyone smiled and mouthed the proper pleasantries, he had a very emotional feeling that before this was over, Mandy, with her fiery hair and blazing eyes, her porcelain skin brushed by freckles and her passion for everything, was going to test the limits of his restraint.
Chapter Two
Mandy leaned against the side of the house, half-hidden by a crepe myrtle bush, shaking in fear and anger as she watched Stephan’s rental car drive away. How was it possible that her whole world could have changed so much in less than an hour?
Though she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. The last few years had been constant upheaval... leaving her small hometown, Willoughby, for college in Dallas, fifty miles away, renewing her friendship with Alena, then her grandfather’s death three years ago followed closely by Alena’s death, adopting Josh and moving back to Willoughby. She’d thought she could regain stability by returning to the small town and the family she’d once wanted to leave. And she had regained that stability for a while. She’d traded in her MBA to teach first-grade children, some belonging to her former classmates.
Except for her grandfather and her best friend being gone, the time since she’d come back had been like a return to her childhood when she was surrounded by love and everything was secure and unchanging. She’d been given a second chance, and this time she truly appreciated what she had. This time she was holding on with both hands and not about to let it get away from her.
Only a few hours ago she’d left to do her morning of volunteer work at the library, confident that things would be the same when she returned. Then she’d come back and walked into the home where she’d lived since she was a child, where she’d always felt safe, into the kitchen where she’d eaten breakfast that very morning with the people she loved.
But in that kitchen, sitting at that same table, she’d seen Stephan Reynard.
And she had a horrible feeling that her life would never be the same no matter how tightly she tried to hold on to the status quo.
The worst thing wasn’t even that he wanted to take Josh. That was unthinkable, of course, but even worse was that she was inexplicably, insanely attracted to the man who wanted to steal her son, the brother of the man who’d caused her best friend’s death.
For some reason she’d never be able to understand, her hormones had turned on her and focused their attention on this enigmatic man who was the antithesis of everything she wanted out of life. He had wealth and power and that always spelled heartache. If she needed any confirmation of that fact of life... and she didn’t...all she had to do was look at Alena’s life, especially after she became involved with this man’s brother.
Stephan Reynard was from another country. Not just another city an hour’s drive away, but a completely different country, thousands of miles away in distance and lifestyle.
And he was the enemy, the man who thought that country had a claim on her son, who wanted to yank him away from her and from the life she’d so carefully constructed for him.
Yet as much as she feared Stephan and hated him, just as much was she drawn to him. There was something about him, some banked fire in his eyes, something predatory about the way he moved, something primitive buried beneath the layers of civilization and conservative clothing that reached to a part of her she hadn’t even known existed before...and really didn’t want to know about now.
When he’d callously announced Lawrence’s death, she’d been completely disconcerted, not only because she’d liked Lawrence and had been shocked at the news, but also because that meant Stephan had a legitimate reason to take her son. The room had started to spin about her. Stephan must have spotted her weakness, and he’d rushed over to her. For one insane instant she’d wanted to collapse into those arms and be held against that wide chest, to free those uncivilized urges she somehow knew he possessed.
Fortunately she’d recovered her good sense before doing anything that stupid and had not, she hoped, given him any sign of her absurd reaction.
When she’d grabbed him by that ridiculous tie and invaded his space to issue her warning, she’d been fighting dual urges to use that tie to choke him or to pull his lips to hers. Even now she could remember the sizzle that had seemed to pass from his body to hers, though they hadn’t actually touched physically. Even now his elusive scent that was both foreign and familiar, civilized and wild, tantalized her memory.
She snapped a leaf off the bush beside her and crumpled it in her fingers. Her hormones must have gone into overdrive, focusing on the first attractive man they spotted, causing her to attribute to that man all sorts of traits that he didn’t possess. Stephan Reynard was a stuffy, snobbish, arrogant prince who wanted to take her son.
She had to shove her rebellious hormones back into their cells and launch a crusade against Stephan Reynard. She had to protect Alena’s son—her son now—keep her promise to Alena and Lawrence and keep her family intact.
She drew in a deep breath, determinedly pulling in the familiar scents of honeysuckle and trees and dust in an effort to drive out Stephan’s enigmatic, enticing scent.
Spine straight and head high, she returned to the backyard where Stacy, Josh and Prince were involved in one of Josh’s favorite games. Stacy threw Prince’s bone, then Josh raced with the dog to see who would retrieve it.
“I’m going in to talk to Mom and Nana, Stacy. Would you keep Josh out here for a little while longer?”
Stacy tossed the bone, then when Josh and Prince ran after it, she turned to Mandy, a worried frown marring her young features. “What’s going to happen, Sis?”
“Nothing. We’ll figure out some way to deal with this.” She had no idea what that way might be, but she would find it. She couldn’t conceive of anything else.
Josh charged back, jubilantly clutching the plastic bone and chattering happily.
“Good boy!” Stacy approved. “See how much easier it is to carry it in your hand than in your mouth?”
Mandy scooped him up and gave him a big hug, loving him so much it was almost painful. Josh wrapped his chubby arms about her neck and hugged her back, gave her a sloppy kiss, then demanded to be allowed down again so he could play with Prince. She set him on his bare feet and he scampered away.
“He doesn’t appreciate how much he’s loved because that’s all he’s ever known,” Mandy said. “That’s the way it ought to be, and it’s not going to change.”
“I’m with you all the way,” Stacy replied.
Mandy went back inside to her mother and grandmother who sat at the table, waiting for her.
“We got problems,” she said.
Her grandmother grinned wryly. “You always did have a talent for understatement.”
She flopped into the chair beside her. “Any thoughts on what we’re going to do?”
Nana shook her head. “When you told us you were adopting Josh, you didn’t tell us about that decree of illegitimate ascension.”
Mandy sighed. “It didn’t seem important. I thought Lawrence would marry the woman his parents had picked out for him and have lots more sons. It’s the male who determines the sex, you know, so the odds were pretty good on that one. I certainly had no idea the Taggarts would ever in a million years find out about Lawrence. It’s not like they would be on a guest list for the palace ball and recognize him.”
The front door slammed. “Hi, honey! I’m home!”
“In the kitchen, Dan!” her mother called.
Mandy had to fight the urge to jump up, run to her father and throw herself in his big, capable arms, the way she had done when she was a little girl, when he could make everything all better with a kiss. “You’re going to wish you’d stayed at the hardware store!” she shouted instead.
Dan Crawford appeared in the doorway, a large, smiling man with auburn hair fading to a lighter color and streaked with white. He took one look at the three of them and his smile vanished, concern furrowing his brow instead. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to Lynda and the baby?”
“No, they’re fine,” Rita assured him. “Sit down, dear. We need to have a family meeting.”
Dan took a seat at the table and listened quietly while Mandy told him the whole story.
“We need a plan of action,” she concluded. “I don’t think this is going to go away like the chicken pox did.”
Dan Crawford leaned back and exhaled a long sigh. “What did this Stephan Reynard say he plans to do next?”
“He didn’t say,” Rita replied. “He’s staying at a hotel in Dallas and we’re to phone him there after we’ve had time to discuss everything.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Mandy said adamantly. “Joshua’s my son now. Both his parents wanted him to have the kind of life I had, not the kind they had.”
“Stephan Reynard is Joshua’s uncle,” her father said, his voice quiet but resolute. “He may not have any legal rights, but don’t you think he’s entitled to some kind of relationship with his nephew? Someday Joshua’s going to want to know about his heritage.”
“Stephan Reynard doesn’t want a relationship with his nephew. He wants to steal him and turn him into a carbon copy of himself, and we can’t let him do that. Josh would be just as unhappy in that role as Lawrence was.”
