Page 87 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
Another hand closed around one of mine, clutching it tightly. “That’s enough,” Brendon said, his voice strong and steady. “If Francesca and I married, we would only make each other miserable.”
Mother shook her head. “But you were so happy—”
“That wasn’t me,” he interrupted. “The person who made Francesca happy was”—he glanced at me before finishing—“someone else. I wasn’t the person wearing the armor.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Perhaps if you ever actuallylistenedto your son, you would.”
The accusation made her bristle again. “You may be a prince, young man, but you know nothing about my relationship with my son.”
“You don’t even use the name he prefers.”
I flinched and looked up at her through my lashes, afraid to meet her gaze head on. Her expression was hard to read, too many emotions mixing in her teary eyes, clenched jaw, and furrowed brow. After a moment, everything cleared away until her face was almost blank.
“Alright … Rick.” It might have been the first time she’d ever called me that. “Please explain what happened.”
“Do you mind if we get dressed first?” I asked.
She blinked, as if coming out of a daze, and then gasped. “Oh! Yes, I will … wait outside.” She rushed out of the room, closing the door behind her as best she could.
Brendon and I finally got out of bed. Changing into clothes appropriate for a wedding would take too long, so we both put back on what we’d worn yesterday. As Brendon dressed, he asked, “What are you going to tell her?”
I sighed. “I think I have to tell her everything.”
Once we finished dressing, he took my face in his hands and kissed me gently on the lips. “If we’re going to tell her everything, we need a few more people to fill in the story.”
Which was how Brendon, Franny, Kit, Cyril, Lucinda, and I ended up in a sitting room less than two hours before the wedding, staring at both sets of parents, waiting for them to come to terms with everything we’d told them.
We left out some details—they didn’t need to know about the sex or the magic toys, for one—but we told them everything else. Cyril and Lucinda’s honesty surprised me, but they looked like they were having fun, even as everyone eyed them warily for their villainy.
“You don’t seem very surprised,” my father said to Brendon’s.
“We’ve already heard some of it from Kit,” he explained with a cheery smile. “I would have told you, old friend, if I wasn’t worried about getting half the details wrong.”
“Or more,” his wife said, her lips tilted in a playful smile.
I was glad Father accepted the turn of events so easily. Mother was the real concern. I watched for her reaction, my hands clenched tightly in my lap as the seconds dragged on. Brendon covered my hand with his, helping me relax a little.
She followed the whole interaction with a closed off expression. “You and Brendon plan to marry?”
I nodded eagerly and looked to him to make sure he was still onboard with the wedding after the crazy morning. He grinned and replied, “Yes, we’re getting married. In just a few hours if everything’s ready for it.”
“And the Good Wizard has approved the change?”
“Yes, he said either Franny or I could fulfill the requirements, so the spell is still safe.”
Mother pursed her lips. “I’d like to hear this from him myself, but no one has been able to locate him yet. Nothing in your story accounts for his disappearance, unless …” She glanced at Cyril and Lucinda.
Finished with their narration, they were busy staring into each other’s eyes and cooing sweet nothings. It took them a moment to notice everyone focused on them. Cyril arched a silver-streaked brow. “Yes?”
“Have you done anything to the Good Wizard?” Mother demanded.
“Not recently.”
“He wouldn’t risk ruining the wedding after everything we’ve done to save it,” Lucinda explained, cupping her hands around his face and making kissy noises at him. “Would you, pookie?”
“Of course not, darling,” he murmured, obviously lovesick.
