Page 7 of Rogue Royal
He lifted his head, his forehead creasing at her words. “Mother?”
“You have always been the mischievous one of the family.” She smiled. “Of all the cousins, you were the one who I expected to get into trouble for your antics when you were younger. Why are you still doing it now?” She sighed. “Things are difficult for us, Douglas. You need to start taking your role seriously.” She held up her hand to stop his interruption. “I know you don’t mean for it to happen, but it always does.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. There are things…” He stopped, unwilling to explain his real actions when he knew he’d be told to stop, which he refused to do.
Louisa pursed her lips. To anyone else, it would seem like she was angry, but he knew she was thinking. “You need to work with Maverick. Properly, I mean. I know he oversees your schedule for your appearances, but you should get him involved with the charities as well. By working together, you could create something amazing.”
Douglas’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t sure he could deal with Maverick any more than he already was. “Isn’t he doing enough work already?” Douglas glanced over his shoulder as if he could see the man. “He seemed tired.”
Louisa chuckled. “Are you surprised? If I know Maverick as well as I think I do, you kept him up half the night with your antics. He would’ve been working to put a good spin on things after you went to bed, no doubt.”
Douglas hadn’t thought about that.
“While I remember, we have postponed tonight’s dinner until tomorrow. Your father has an unexpected guest arriving for the evening.”
Douglas frowned. “Does he need me to be there?”
Louisa shook her head. “No. You’re free for the evening.”
He huffed a laugh and stood. “Not quite. I have to pay my dues, remember?”
His mother snorted, the sound inelegant from her lips. “Yes, it’s such a hardship to be doing something you enjoy.”
“It’s the fact that I’m being made to do it that makes it less appealing.” He smiled.
“It wouldn’t be a punishment if you wanted to do it too much. Think of it as honing your skills.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Be gone with you, you insolent child.” His mother grinned at him, and Douglas bent low to kiss her cheek, inhaling her scent. She seemed so fragile next to him.
“Have a good day, Mother.”
He wandered to his rooms, focusing on the polished tiled floors and the sound of his footsteps reverberating around the large space instead of the noise inside his head. By the time he had closed the sitting room door behind him, he was calmer. Inhaling, he grabbed a cup of tea from the continually ready pot. He chose a seat near the window overlooking the rear gardens and pondered his mother’s words. Could he work with Maverick as she suggested? Maverick’s opinion of him was low, and Douglas wasn’t sure whether he could deal with the constant arguments they seemed to have.
As the shadows of the plants and trees changed shape and size, Douglas went through every memory he could remember. He refilled his cup several times before his need for the bathroom outweighed his tumultuous thoughts. Something needed to change, and working at the club would be a good option for him. Though his father had deemed it punishment, his mother had made him view it as a time to work through everything that had happened.
After showering, he dressed in a conservative shirt and trouser combination for the journey to the club. As he would be working, he chose to drive and climbed into his Bentley Continental GT V8. His choice of car had not come as a surprise to anyone who knew him. It was sporty and fast, though he never exceeded the speed limit; he’d seen the result of accidents too many times for him not to be cautious. Plus, he didn’t want his bodyguard, Eric, to lose him. As rash as he could sometimes be, he refused to mess with Eric’s job.
He allowed the hum and vibration of the engine to soothe him and, after being waved through the gates, parked in the underground car park with a sense of calm. As the lift took him to the reception area of Club Royal, he sniggered and shook his head. Whoever had thought of the name hadn’t been original in their ideas. He was sure the public who knew about the place also knew who frequented it, but because of the non-disclosure agreements every member signed, no one would ever confirm the details.
The club had begun as a hidden kink by one of his ancestors, who had made a room he solely used for his own pleasures. When his son became out of control, the king had introduced his son to it, hoping to curb his wild ways. From there, it had branched out throughout the years, introducing more and more family members into it as a way to bring the family closer and teach them the control and humility needed to be a royal public figure. In recent years, they had created the club to allow a safer place for them to play out of the prying eyes of the media. Despite the rumours, no one could ever confirm anything, and therefore, no one knew for sure, except for the people who frequented the club.
The lift doors opened to an earthy-coloured room with dark wooden floors and furniture, emerald-green walls and different shades of cream as accent colours. He wandered across the expanse to the receptionist.
“Good evening, Your Highness.” She bowed her head.
He had told her several times to stop, but she refused to ignore the royal protocols despite his assurances she wouldn’t be reprimanded for it. Once he stepped inside the club itself, they would address him as Master or Sir.
“Good evening, Clarice. How is everything going tonight?”
“Very well, sir. There have been no altercations at all. Everyone seems to be on their best behaviour.”
“Good to hear. Who are the Monitors tonight? I forgot to check before I came.” He pressed his finger to the electronic pad on the reception desk. Everyone who entered the club had to first be a member but also “clock in” with their fingerprint to show they were present. Everyone had to book their time at the club so they could adhere to the maximum number of people for the building regulations, and so it would be possible to know who was present on any given day should anything happen. It made it easy to speak to those who were there instead of having to go through the whole club member list.
“Princess Lottie, Princex Alice and Princes Christian, Patrick and Henry.”
Douglas rolled his lips inwards, hiding his mirth at the use of their titles. “Thank you.” Clarice handed him a phone for use within the club walls. It enabled him to call whoever he needed for assistance, but he could use it as a loudspeaker if he needed to be heard above conversation level.
