Summary: Bertrand goes to Paris to find the son he didn’t know he had, and Beatrix is left alone and jilted until a surprise guest shows up at her hotel room.
No one spoke much on the train to Paris.
Bertrand was furious with Maxwell for keeping such a massive secret and revealing it at such a bad moment. Drake was pissed at both the Beaumont brothers, but particularly Bertrand, for what he saw as chasing his sister out of the country.
Beatrix was mostly just heartbroken. She didn’t really want to meet Savannah, or the child of the man she loved. Already he was distancing himself from her, trying to make room in his life for a woman and child he hadn’t realized would be his family. She wouldn’t have come at all, except that she couldn’t shake the feeling that if he went without her, he would never come back to her, not really.
How could she possibly compete with his own flesh and blood?
If only Liam could have come, she mused to herself, staring out the window at the passing countryside. Ever since Maxwell had dropped a bombshell on her relationship with Bertrand, Beatrix had found her thoughts turning more often to the handsome king who still loved her, despite everything. His steady kindness was so unlike Bertrand’s volatile moodiness and tactless demeanor. It was so tempting to forget all about Bertrand and throw herself into the king’s arms.
And yet…
She caught herself gazing longingly across the aisle at the sleeping duke, marveling at the way he looked at least five years younger when his face actually relaxed. She regretted her stubbornness in refusing to sit next to him, wishing now that his head was resting on her shoulder as he dozed, that she could reach up and rake her fingers through his silky dark hair.
She wondered if he was dreaming of Savannah.
She didn’t tag along when the men visited Savannah’s apartment. Instead she wandered the streets of Paris, trying not to think about it. She bought herself some chocolates and pastries and a bouquet of flowers to liven up her hotel room. She wandered back to the hotel with her nose buried in the roses and daisies, letting the sweet smell comfort her.
It was 11:00 that night before Beatrix heard from anybody. She was lying in bed scrolling through news stories on her phone when it finally started ringing in her hand. Liam. She answered nervously.
“Hello?”
“Beatrix! Where are you?”
“I’m in Paris, remember?”
“Yes, I know. I’ve just landed. Where are you staying?”
“You just landed in Paris?”
“Yes, I managed to get a night to myself and thought I’d come check on things. Can I come see you?”
She was flustered but gave him the address before hanging up. Twenty minutes later he was at her door with a bottle of wine and a devilish smile.
Bertrand held the tiny hand awkwardly, in awe of the beautiful child before him.
My son.
Savannah bit her lip nervously, watching them. Little Bartie cooed with delight and Bertrand’s eyes shot up to Savannah’s face, basking in the warm approval of her smile.
Suddenly there was barf spewing out of Bartie’s face. Hot, curdled, regurgitated milk spilled over Bertrand’s fingers, and he found himself gagging uncontrollably. Savannah laughed, but he was too horrified to join her. He ran to the bathroom and locked the door.
After fifteen minutes, it was Maxwell that finally went to retrieve him.
“Bertrand? You coming back?”
“Go away, Maxwell.”
“Let me in.”
“To the bathroom? That hardly seems appropriate.” He heard strange noises coming from the door and realized Maxwell was starting to pick the bathroom lock. “Oh for god’s sake!”
He opened the door to find his brother, Drake, Savannah and Bartie all staring at him, concerned. He was quickly becoming drenched in sweat under his sweater vest. All he could think about was running away.
“Let’s play that drinking game you like.”
“Never Have I Ever?”
Liam poured two glasses of wine into the awkwardly shaped hotel tumblers. “That’s the one.”
“I feel like you already know all my secrets.”
He handed her a glass with a smirk. “I don’t think I could ever know all your secrets, Beatrix. I’ll start. Never have I ever…lived in America.”
Beatrix rolled her eyes and took a sip. “Really cutting to my core with that one, Your Majesty.” Liam shrugged. “OK, hmm. Never have I ever been the head of state of a small nation.”
“Oh, come on.” He took a sip. “Let’s get to it, then. Never have I ever fucked a Beaumont.”
She narrow her eyes at him. “Liam.”
“What? It’s true! I haven’t.”
She took a long sip of wine, glaring daggers at him over the rim of her glass. “So we’re doing this then? Never have I ever proposed to two women on the same day.”
“Hey, that’s not quite an accurate description of what happened.” He swirled the wine in his glass but didn’t drink.
“Oh? Enlighten me.”
“I mean…I didn’t quite…” He met her eyes and trailed off. Her pain and hurt was written all over her face, and it provoked a sad laugh. “If you’re going to be queen, you need to work on concealing your emotions.”
“I don’t want to conceal anything,” she whispered, looking away. His hand reached for her chin and she let him turn her face back towards his.
“I might not deserve you, Beatrix, but neither does he.”
She looked away again, snapping out of his spell. “Let’s keep playing. Take a drink. It’s your turn.”
Liam reluctantly sipped his wine. He tapped the glass idly for a moment, trying to think of his next move. A smirk spread across his face when he remembered something he had accidentally witnessed weeks earlier. “Never have I ever kissed Hana Lee.”
Beatrix raised an eyebrow at him. “Well I should hope not.” She took a long drink. “I actually feel pretty guilty about that one.”
“I didn’t mind. It was quite a surprise to stumble upon, though.”
“Not guilty because of your feelings. I was just lonely and dazzled by her beauty, but I think she really liked me. I was cruel and she was nothing but gracious.”
Liam grew quiet, frowning. “I guess it didn’t occur to me that you were lonely here. A part of me was worried the moment I saw you had come. But you handled yourself so capably with everyone at court, I let myself just assume you were OK. I should have done more.”
Beatrix rolled her eyes and placed her hand over his on the bed. “I understood. I crashed your party and you didn’t have time to babysit me. I appreciate the time you did make for me during the social season – honestly. I know I got more than my fair share.”
His face warmed as he intertwined his fingers with hers. “You just seem so angry with me, Beatrix.”
She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Liam…I am angry. I got through the social season with the hope that at the end of it, I’d have you. I was so madly in love with you. When you took me to the waterfall, and you…” She trailed off, getting lost in the memory.
He inched closer to her. “I was trying so hard to tell myself I was just spending time with you like I would any of the suitors, but I nearly professed my love for you that day.”
A smile warmed her face. “You were doing a terrible job of keeping me at a distance. That was easily the most romantic date of my life.” She stared down at the drink in her hands, swirling it absent-mindedly as she silently reminisced about the social season. Her mind kept ending up at the same horrible memory.
So did Liam’s.
Bertrand paced Savannah’s apartment nervously as she put Bartie to sleep for the night. Drake and Maxwell had ignored his pleading for them to stay, insisting he needed to talk to her alone. It took all his self-control not to bolt into the night, never to be seen again.
When the screaming finally subsided and Savannah emerged, looking radiant and beautiful even with her hair disheveled and her top stained with spit-up and god know’s what else, he forced himself to sit on the couch. His leg continued twitching, wanting to carry him away.
“Bertrand…are you OK?” She laid a hand on his knee gently, her eyes searching his face.
“Lady Savannah…” he took a deep breath, willing himself to tell her everything he’d come to Paris to say. “I need you to know that I had no idea you were with child when you left. I admit I suspected that your absence from court was due to my rejection, but I never would have let you go if I’d known about Bartie.”
She frowned. “You wouldn’t have let me?”
“No, I mean, I –” he shook his head, frustrated. “I mean I would have insisted on helping you.”
“But you did help me…you kept sending me money. I thought that was all the involvement you wanted.”
He shook his head violently. “I never sent money! That was Maxwell, against my knowledge.”
Her frown deepened and her brow furrowed. “So you didn’t even want to do that much.”
“Savannah, no, I would have! But I didn’t know! And in fact…” suddenly he was feeling defensive, angry even. “…You kept this from me!” He was on his feet, hands waving around as he accused her angrily. Her doe eyes went wide with fear. “You took my child away from me and never said a word! Who gave you the right?”
Savannah stood, her lip quivering, tears pooling in her eyes. Bertrand regretted his words immediately, but it was too late. She ran to her bedroom and slammed the door, waking Bartie in the process. As the cries filled the small apartment, Bertrand snuck out into the night.
“Beatrix…” Liam whispered, his voice trailing off into more silence. When it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything, he spoke again. “Not proposing to you that night will forever be my greatest regret. Truly.”
“That just sounds so hollow, Liam. You’re still engaged to her. If you truly regretted it, you’d leave her for me. Right now.”
“Is that even what you want?”
She stared him down, trying to read his emotions on his tightly controlled face. “You want the truth, Liam?”
He nodded without hesitation. “Yes, always.”
Beatrix took a deep breath, looking away from his intense gaze. “Every time I look at you, I see a man who participated in the worst humiliation I have ever suffered. And when I didn’t hear from you for weeks afterwards…after you told me you loved me, and that you were going to propose to me, and then cast me aside in an instant…”
“Beatrix, I…”
“Going into your coronation I loved you so much, Liam. But by the time the shock and the pain wore off…as I dealt with it while living in a foreign country where I’d been widely, publicly humiliated, with no one in my corner except the Beaumonts…whatever excuses you have for letting me go through that, the reality is that my feelings for you couldn’t survive it.”
Liam buried his face in his hands, caught off guard by the agony her words provoked in him. “Oh my god, Beatrix,” he croaked, voice muffled by his own hands. When he finally lowered his hands, his eyes were moist and red. “I didn’t realize…”
He was cut off by the sound of Beatrix’s phone receiving a text message. She jumped up to grab it, desperate to hear from the others. Liam winced at her eagerness but said nothing.
Bertrand sat in a late-night coffee shop, typing out messages and then deleting them, over and over. He was sick of saying the wrong thing, of being misunderstood. This message was important, and he couldn’t be unclear.
Walking through the streets of Paris, he’d seen his future clearly.
He would marry Savannah. Whatever it took to get her forgiveness, he would do it. He would be the father his son needed. This was non-negotiable.
Finances would be problematic. But House Beaumont would rise again, he was sure of it. It just hinged on one thing.
Beatrix had to become queen. No more distractions. No more confessions of love…god, what had he been thinking? The king could possibly look the other way if she had an affair here and there, but telling her that he loved her had been foolish. They couldn’t love each other. Liam, only Liam, was her destiny.
Taking a deep breath, he finally found the courage to hit “send”.
Beatrix studied her phone in disbelief. All her worst fears in one little message.
Lady Beatrix. We will end this charade at once. I am a father now and I intend to make an honest woman of Lady Savannah. You will make an excellent queen and I am proud to have sponsored you. Please be ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning.
That was it…that was all he had to say to her. The only man she had been able to count on one hundred percent, who was always in her corner. He was done with her.
She placed the phone face-down on the dresser, then shoved it away, ignoring the clatter as it went flying off the other side and onto the floor. Liam was behind her in an instant, startled by the noise. His hands landed on her shoulders and he spun her around to face him. He opened his mouth to comfort her but she stopped him by capturing his lips in a passionate kiss instead. The kiss was salty with tears, but neither of them could bear to break apart.
“Bea…” Liam croaked, finally pulling away from her lips. “You know I want this, but you’re upset, and I couldn’t possibly…”
Beatrix let out a sob, covering her mouth too late with the back of her hand. “Just go, then,” she pleaded. “Just leave me alone.” In seconds she was locked in the bathroom, as Liam stood stunned, the taste of her mouth and her tears still on his lips.
Bertrand stopped dead in his tracks as he approached the hotel and saw a familiar form standing her the entrance, having a heated phone call.
Keeping to the shadows, he got as close as possible without being spotted and listened in.
“I know it’s unprecedented, but I’ll set precedent, goddammit…”
“I will not be a pawn in your power grab, Countess…”
“Lady Beatrix is not the issue here, and I need you to accept that I am just not willing to marry someone who does not have my best interests at heart.”
Bertrand’s heart was in his throat. Was this really happening? Surely he was misunderstanding…
“My decision is made. Please prepare your statement for the press. Good-bye, Madeleine.”
He froze, stunned by this development. King Liam breaking off his engagement at this point could only mean one thing: he was getting ready to propose to Lady Beatrix. Everything they’d been working for since Maxwell had brought her back from New York was finally going to happen.
So why did he feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest?