Ever After (Forbidden Love #1) Read online

  He’d met Valor when they were children. Valor wasn’t noble, but he also wasn’t as poor as Cas and his family. It had been a chance meeting at the market, and somehow, a friendship had formed. They met when they could, but then Valor, who was two years his senior, had left for his chef program. He’d written to Cas, something that had surprised him. He’d figured Valor would have been too preoccupied to bother with him. He hadn’t been, though, and their friendship lasted. It was because of Valor that Cas now worked at Pinewood Castle. It had always been Valor’s dream—unlike Cas, who saw it as a means to an end.

  He missed working with Valor. That wasn’t the only thing he missed from the kitchens, but he’d been promoted and needed any help he could get to care for his mother and sisters.

  “How are you?” Valor climbed onto the tree stump beside him. “Brr. It’s cold.”

  There was a sound behind them, and they both turned to look but didn’t see anything there. “Must be the wind,” Valor said, then again asked, “How are you?”

  “How do you think I am?” Cas replied, then sighed. “Sorry, I cannot seem to shake my mood.”

  “Do not apologize, my friend.”

  Cas bent his neck and looked down in hopes of avoiding discussion. He hated the weakness swimming in his blood.

  “I still cannot believe your father is gone,” Valor said.

  No…Cas couldn’t either. The heart attack had taken him quickly.

  “How is your family?”

  “They are doing as well as can be under the circumstances. Mother is ecstatic about the promotion. Her son, a footman! I think it’s fucking nonsense. The girls are taking care of her as best they can, though much of the responsibility rests upon Emily’s shoulders.” She was the eldest of his two sisters and Cas’s dearest confidante. “The compensation from my promotion will help, but…” He let his words trail off, unable to finish them. Cas wasn’t always the best at saying how he felt. Words on paper were one thing, but uttered aloud, another.

  “But you want to be with them and you cannot. I am sorry, my friend.”

  Cas was sorry too. “Yes, I miss them. But I can care for them better this way.” He really desired a swift end to this conversation—it would do no one any good. Cassius brought up the first thing he could think of—the stables, where he most enjoyed being at the castle. “They’re taking good care of the horses, right?”

  Again, he heard what sounded like the snap of a branch, a crunch of snow, but when he looked back, nothing was there.

  “Of course. I know you miss the horses too—sneaking the ones here extra food from the kitchens.”

  As a child, Cas had trained with a local farmer and then took a position there as his first place of employment. The man had not been able to pay Cassius much, and he’d been forced to seek employment elsewhere. He had been angry at that for years, and perhaps he still was.

  “It was the only chance I could spend time with horses. It is much more difficult now. I miss them. One day, I’ll have one of my own.” He loved words and animals because they did not judge him, did not push him; they let him be. There was no pretending with animals or words, and they were the two things in this world that never expected anything from him, that he could tell his dreams to without feeling foolish.

  “Well…I just wanted to say hello. I should head back,” Valor said, jolting him from his…well, pouting. Valor had been correct.

  There was a rustling, an animal sneaking away, maybe.

  “I’ll be there soon. I just need to finish something.”

  Valor waited a beat…perhaps hoping Cas would share more. When he didn’t, his friend walked away, and Cassius pulled out his notebook once again.

  3

  Merrick

  Fresh from a warm bath, Merrick wiped the moisture from his body with a white fluffy towel monogrammed, of course, with the family crest. He slid the terry cloth down his arms and legs as his thoughts drifted again.

  “Yes, I miss them. But I can care for them better this way.”

  Merrick had been out for a walk on the grounds two nights ago, trying to unclutter his head, when he heard voices near a clearing in the forest. He should’ve identified himself. He was the prince, after all, and they were under his family’s employment. But he’d stood motionless, riveted by the conversation.

  “I miss it…the horses. One day, I’ll have one of my own.”

  What would it feel like not to have the kingdom at your fingertips? Merrick pondered as he slipped into his undergarments.

  No doubt, there’d be much less pressure. No—different pressure, he reasoned. According to what he’d overheard, the footman who had assisted him with his cuff link the other night had taken the job at the castle to help his family. His father had died; his mother needed assistance. How very…noble. Had he ever thought of those in his employ as noble? Loyal, dependable, hard-working, but never noble.

  He considered helping the footman in some way, but it was not his place. Merrick shook the ridiculous thought from his mind. The man was employed by the Davendall family, and the servants’ wages were paid fairly.

  Merrick walked into his bedroom, where Geoffrey had laid out his dinner clothes and was waiting to assist him in dressing.

  “You seem preoccupied,” Geoffrey remarked as Merrick slipped on the crisp white shirt. Geoffrey helped with the top buttons, though his fingers were not as nimble as in previous years. His hands shook on the last clasp, and Merrick held his breath, longing to dress himself. Except he certainly did not want to insult the man, who took pride not only in the position, but the honorable tradition.

  Tonight was yet another dinner engagement, this time to entertain a prospective family—the Tulles, who had daughters of marrying age. Merrick tired of the endless formality, the only saving grace being that he didn’t have to be alone with the ladies, at least not in these early stages. The courting process was long and tedious. Merrick even required an escort at his dinner with Lady Angelica the other night. Mercifully, the families allowed them time to become familiar before thrusting them unceremoniously together.

  Still, as Geoffrey helped affix his platinum cuff links, Merrick could hear his father reminding him it was necessary and important to carry on such customs. Fortunately, some had grown lax over the years—like top hats, gloves, and the more traditional dress, such as knickers and tailcoats, were only worn for lavish celebrations around the holidays. Christ, so many layers of clothing just to eat a meal in your own home.

  Geoffrey held open his waistcoat, and Merrick turned so the material could be slipped over his arms. Once it hung on his shoulders, he twisted around to allow his valet to help with the buttons.

  “Has Father discussed your retirement compensation?” Merrick asked, his gaze fastening on his valet, whose eyes were narrowed in concentration on his task.

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Geoffrey responded before his lip quirked. “Trying to get rid of me so soon?”

  “Of course not. I will miss you greatly,” Merrick replied with conviction. “But I suppose it is time to begin considering an understudy. No stubbornness from you about it.”

  Geoffrey stopped short of rolling his eyes, which would be considered disrespectful. Though Merrick would love it if he did, just one time. “I am not the stubborn one.”

  Merrick scoffed as Geoffrey stepped back and assessed Merrick’s outfit from all angles before approving with a curt nod. “I could ask Harris whom he’d recommend promoting. If there is nobody favorable, he could also make suggestions from other prominent houses.”

  That settled, Merrick headed down the grand staircase, with Geoffrey in tow. He made small talk with Marjorie as well as his parents while they waited for their guests to arrive. Apparently, they were running late this evening due to the weather, allowing Merrick more time to feel less than enthusiastic about his female guests.

  “You look very lovely,” Merrick’s mother cooed in his ear, and he tried to return a contented smile, though all he felt w
as dread.

  “Thank you, Mother. You as well.” She was wearing crisp white gloves and a pale-green gown with pearls at her neckline, which only enhanced her auburn hair. Merrick favored Queen Edeline, down to the freckles dotting her shoulders, while Marjorie’s likeness was to King Rupert—both had wheat-colored hair that framed their pale-blue eyes.

  Merrick’s gaze darted to the darkened window. The snow was falling steadily, and he couldn’t help hoping that the Tulle family would have to cancel.

  Just as he had the thought, there was a flash of headlights on the driveway. Then Harris, their butler, was announcing the family while another footman took their coats. The Tulle daughters, Cecilia and Clarice, smiled dotingly at him and discussed the snowy drive before they all headed to the formal dining room to be seated for dinner.

  The elaborate tableware sparkled in the brightly lit room, and no doubt, his mother had strategically assigned them their seats around the ornately decorated rectangular table. Merrick was seated beside Mr. Tulle, while his daughters were placed directly across, in order to engage more easily in conversation.

  Merrick hadn’t seen the footman named Cassius since the evening of his dinner with Lady Angelica, but tonight his presence seemed illuminated in the crowded room. Merrick cursed himself for eavesdropping on the servant’s private conversation in the woods. It was still forefront on his mind, and he could only conclude that boredom had taken hold. Why else would he rather dream up stories of handsome house servants than focus on the two lovely ladies sitting in front of him now, competing for his attention?

  As Merrick asked the ladies about their charity work, hoping to find some common ground, his gaze continued to flit toward the corner of the room, where Cassius stood with a decanter of wine, waiting to serve their guests, while Harris and an additional footman lingered nearby. Geoffrey would be enjoying his own meal with the kitchen staff at this hour and was expected to join Merrick after dinner in the study.

  Merrick made eye contact with Cassius, who stared back for one prolonged moment before dipping his head as he was trained to do in the presence of royalty. Merrick wished his honey-colored eyes might linger even longer, or perhaps his plump lips might stretch into a smile.

  Perhaps he’d make some sort of jest about his cuff links staying firmly in place this evening, except his family would think he’d gone mad, and Marjorie would be sure to question him afterward. Besides, how would he explain that he found the footman wholly more interesting than his current company? That the present exchange about societal events was nearly insufferable?

  He only attended major social events when he was required to, preferring his charity work or smaller gatherings. He favored leaving town altogether, sometimes traveling to a discreet bathhouse, where men could take male lovers for the night. He longed for one of those evenings again, which was long overdue and possibly the reason he was so preoccupied as of late.

  Marjorie eyed Merrick across the table, and short of kicking his shin, it was her way of telling him to stop daydreaming. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter, focusing his attention on Mrs. Tulle’s pompous story about the lady maid they suspected of stealing a necklace that had been in the family for generations.

  Merrick noticed how Cassius seemed slightly miffed by the conversation, his mouth turned down in a frown, and he wondered if he knew the servant they were criticizing. But more than likely, the Tulles were only being dramatic for his family’s benefit, so he caught Cassius’s eyes again and wrinkled his nose in dissatisfaction at the conversation. Cassius began coughing into his sleeve as if Merrick had taken him by surprise, but he dared not look in Merrick’s direction again.

  When Marjorie lifted her hand to request more wine of Cassius, she watched her brother intently while Cassius, his cheeks still flushed from coughing, poured her a glass. Marjorie had guessed certain crushes Merrick had over the years, but this was definitely not one. It was merely interest, Merrick told himself. He craved a new friend or some sort of male companionship, and Cassius seemed to possess a similar sense of humor, so what was wrong with poking a little fun at the expense of their guests, who’d be none the wiser?

  After dinner, the families headed to the study to share a nightcap of brandy, and Merrick kept his eyes trained on the door to watch for Geoffrey—definitely not for Cassius, whose duties would also extend to serving them tea this evening.

  The distinct thump of something heavy hitting the ground urged Merrick to his feet, his instincts suggesting it might be Geoffrey in need of assistance. When he pushed down the hallway and into the foyer, Geoffrey was sitting upright on the floor with Cassius planted at his shoulder, obviously assisting him.

  “What in the world?” Merrick asked, rushing to his valet’s side.

  “It was my fault, Your Highness,” Cassius replied in an urgent tone. “Some tea had spilled over the side of the pot, and before I could fetch a cloth to clean it up, Geoffrey stepped in the thick of it, and down he went.”

  “No need to trouble yourself, Your Highness,” Geoffrey added with a groan. “Return to your guests. I’ll join you shortly. Only need another moment here.”

  As Merrick stood up and backed away, something pricked at him. He had the distinct impression that Cassius was covering for his valet. And he was none too sure why.

  4

  Cassius

  Cas could sense that the prince did not want to leave his valet. His round, brandy-colored eyes darted from Cas to Geoffrey and back to Cas again, where they lingered.

  “Merrick?” a soft voice called from the study. “Are you there?” It was louder now, indicating that whoever it was—one of the women here for the prince, no doubt—was getting closer.

  “Please…Your Highness,” Geoffrey said, his voice quivering.

  “I’ll make sure he is well enough.” Cas gave the prince a simple nod. His word was all he had, so if he spoke it, he would see it through. The prince had no way of knowing how important Cassius took his word and likely would not believe it anyway. Is that fair? You don’t know him or what he would believe.

  Cas ignored the voice in his head. His gaze snagged on Prince Merrick again, whose eyes were wide, staring into Cas’s with an expression he did not understand.

  “Merrick?” one of the young women said again.

  Cas opened his mouth to speak, but the prince beat him to it. “Thank you,” he said, surprising Cassius when he gave a quick nod before walking away. It was then Cas realized his mistake. He hadn’t addressed the prince properly with “Your Highness” or “sir.”

  The urge to scream at himself surged through his gut up to his throat. He’d disrespected the prince, and now… What would happen now? Cas couldn’t believe he had been so foolish.

  As angry as he was at himself, he knew he had Geoffrey to deal with. He couldn’t take back his error, but he could make sure the older man was okay. “You fainted.” Cas knelt beside Geoffrey again.

  “I stumbled.”

  “No.” Cassius raised a brow at him. “You fainted. I know what I saw.”

  Geoffrey sighed, the sound shaky. “And you covered for me.”

  “Yes, I did, but I cannot do it again. If you’re unwell, they need to know. What if you were to lose consciousness while you were driving the prince?”

  A look of panic flashed in Geoffrey’s eyes. The thought must have not occurred to him. There was no doubt in Cas’s mind about that.

  “I…”

  “Shh. It’s okay. We will deal with that later. I must get to the study. Are you well?”

  Geoffrey nodded, and Cas had to admit his eyes looked clearer. His voice was stronger than it had been a moment before.

  He helped the older gentleman to his feet, keeping his hand on Geoffrey’s arm even after he stood.

  “I am fine,” Geoffrey promised, but Cas still didn’t let go. If he was like either of Cas’s parents, he would feign good health so as not to worry anyone. His sister Emily said the same of their father before his heart
attack, that he had looked unwell but swore to her he was fine. She carried a great deal of guilt for it.

  “Let me try to get you upstairs to rest so I can continue to serve their nightcap.” He wondered how people could want to be served—royalty or not. Cas couldn’t imagine ever desiring someone to attend to his every need. He would feel…useless. Soon, he could be useless if the prince was angry at him.

  “No.” Geoffrey shook his head. “I will be fine. Just a little accident. I’ll join Prince Merrick as I’m required to.”

  “I do not think—”

  “I thank you for your help, but I assure you, I am fine. It is my job to be there for the prince, and I will do so.”

  There was a prideful tone in Geoffrey’s voice that made Cassius slowly pull his hand away. He didn’t move too quickly, in case he had to catch the older man again, but once Cas was sure Geoffrey was steady, he took a few steps back to retrieve the tray he had set down to help him.

  “Go first, please, Cassius,” Geoffrey begged. “I do not wish you to be any later because of me.”

  “If you are not there in one minute, I’ll come back for you.”

  Cas lingered a moment longer to ensure the valet stayed steady on his feet. When he was as confident as possible, he quickly walked to the study, hoping they didn’t notice his extended absence and that he had not offended the prince too deeply. How would he take care of his family if he lost his position at the castle? If they let him go for not addressing the royal family properly?

  The closer he got to the room, the louder the laughter from inside became. The king and queen were speaking with the Tulle family; both young women stood with the prince, hanging on his every word. Princess Marjorie was there too, strangely protective at her brother’s side, her hand on his shoulder.