She felt just a fleeting pinch of guilt at being happy over Reginald’s death, but then, she had to be realistic. The man would have made an awful ruler. His personality, that of a self-absorbed hedonist, was cast and set. There was absolutely no reason to believe that ascending the throne would have made Reginald behave in any other manner than he always had.
On the contrary, it might even have made him worse. No one in Silvershire would have been happy, least of all her.
Well, no one, she amended silently, but the women Reginald took to his bed and rewarded with trinkets for their favors.
“Good afternoon, my husband. It’s about time you made a little time for me,” she joked as she turned around.
The smile on her face froze when she saw the somber expression on Russell’s face.
Chapter 14
“What’s the matter?” The words slipped from her lips in slow motion as nerves began to knit themselves together and tighten.
Something was wrong, Amelia thought, looking at Russell. Something had changed since last night when, like all the other nights since the wedding, they had found a haven in each other’s arms. Her mind stretched itself in several directions at the same time, searching for a reason for the somber expression on her husband’s face.
Had he found out something more about Reginald’s death? Had someone else been killed? Was there some kind of further trouble or intrigue brewing against the crown?
The burden of leadership weighed heavily on her shoulders. Concerns about subversive organizations and the havoc they could wreak were never all that far from her mind and especially now that she had become the wife of a man who was about to ascend the throne of Silvershire.
Heads of state were given to dark thoughts, even if they tried to maintain a light, gentle touch, she thought sadly, wishing it were otherwise. She had only to look to her father to know that.
Had her father’s thoughts been lighter, more optimistic in nature, she knew that he would have not felt the need to forestall a possible and entirely theoretical attack from Naessa by marrying her off to the future king of a stronger, more powerful country. Within reason and adhering to the proper boundaries of the social world into which she had been born, Amelia felt that she might have been left to her own devices in choosing a mate. Possibly allowed to even follow her heart instead of an international game plan.
And she would have wound up exactly where she was, she thought, married to Russell, who was the man of her heart’s choice.
Sometimes life arranged itself in mysterious ways, she mused.
Russell wasn’t sure just how to say what he had to say. Never glib, he’d still been thought of as being diplomatic. It had always been his job to exercise damage control after Reginald had had one of his escapades. But when it came to matters that concerned him, his tongue felt as if it were bundled up in an overcoat that was two sizes too large.
So he picked his way slowly through what was suddenly a potential minefield to him. “Amelia, certain things have come to light.”
She’d never seen him look like that before, as if hope were only a word to be found in a dictionary. Her heart felt like a solid lump of coal in her chest.
“Things?” she repeated, bracing herself for the worst. “What things? And why do you look as if you’re about to tell me that my pardon has been revoked and that I am about to face a firing squad?”
He nearly smiled. Incredible how her exaggeration had almost hit the nail on the head. At least, as far as his own situation was concerned. She, of course, might have feelings of an entirely different nature if this baby did turn out to be Reginald’s heir. If that caused their union to be rendered null and void, Amelia might not greet the news with a heavy heart. She might even, it occurred to him, be relieved.
He was quiet. More so than usual. This was a bad sign. Amelia tried not to let her imagination run away with her, but it wasn’t easy. And there were no clues that she could discern in his eyes.
When she’d woken up this morning to find Russell gone, she’d just assumed that the new king-in-waiting was going about some sort of royal business. Taking the crown over from Weston required a great deal of transfer of information. And there was the coronation looming before them. The date had been changed, but still, it couldn’t be in the too-distant future. There was a great deal that had to be attended to between then and now in order for Russell to become prepared for that auspicious occasion.
Unlike her, she thought ruefully. Her role in the upcoming coronation was merely decorative. Her only job was either to stand or to sit beside Russell and look proud, which she knew she could handle without being required to resort to any acting on her part, because she was proud, very proud. Proud of the man she had taken to her heart. Proud of the man that she knew he was. Russell was everything that Reginald had never been and, had he lived, she was fairly certain he would never have become. Honest, kind, loyal, Russell was the kind of man who was concerned about leaving the world a better place than when he had first entered it.
But the dark look on his face probably had nothing to do with the coronation.
Or did it? she suddenly wondered.
Talk to me, she all but screamed mentally. Out loud, she felt she had to prod him along. “Is this about Reginald?”
“In a way, yes.” And then, in the light of the repercussions that would follow Reginald’s thoughtless act, Russell amended his statement. “In a very large way, actually.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. Had she been alone, she might have sat down, braced herself before hearing more. But she had always prided herself on meeting adversity head-on, on “hanging tough” before a world that was quick to judge. And Russell, she reminded herself, had never seen her in action. She couldn’t give in to weaker elements and show him that she was unnerved. He had to think of her as strong.
“Is he alive?” she finally asked in a hushed, disbelieving voice.
Had there been some mistake made earlier? Had the body that Russell found in Reginald’s bed only resembled Reginald marginally? Was that what he was so obviously wrestling with telling her now?
Oh God, please don’t let it be that. Don’t let me have to marry Reginald, after all.
She’d hang tough, she promised herself. A marriage was a marriage and there was no way she was ever going to leave her marriage bed, no matter what Russell was about to tell her.
Stunned by the question, Russell looked at her incredulously. “You mean did he suddenly rise up from the dead? Reginald was many things in his lifetime, but a vampire was never one of them.” Although, more than once, he’d heard the late prince referred to as a bloodsucking ghoul.
She cleared her throat, feeling a little foolish for being so skittish. “No, I just thought that maybe a mistake had been made in identifying the body.”
“I was the one who found the body,” he reminded her. “It was Reginald. No mistakes were made.”
Outside, a cloud passed over the sun, suddenly making the room seem dark. She fervently hoped it wasn’t an omen. Amelia drew her courage to her and demanded, “Then what is it that you’re talking about? What has this to do with Reginald?”
He looked at her for a long moment, wondering what her reaction might be. Despite her words, did becoming a queen outweigh everything else for her? There was only one way to find out. “There might be an heir.”
Confusion narrowed her eyes. “An heir?”
He felt a twinge of guilt for having kept this from her, but it hadn’t been for long.
“The computer expert that was sent from the Lazlo Group discovered some personal correspondence on Reginald’s