Page 95 of The Royal Art of Revenge

“Oh, we’re old friends. Just catching up.” She squeezes my hand one last time and stands up with a warm curve of her lips. “I’m assuming His Royal Highness hasn’t managed to extract himself from the French Ambassador yet. I’ll go and see if I can negotiate his freedom.”

“Ah, yes. I did see them engaged in quite the animated conversation,” Dad says, eyeing us both before letting his gaze linger on me. “I was looking for you. To see how you are.”

Bullshit.

You’ve been looking for me to come and ask me what the hell I’m playing at.

“Go on,” I say to Valentina as I stand up. “Let Finn know I’ll be back in in a moment, would you?”

Please tell him my father has cornered me and I need a rescue.

She holds my gaze for a second, then nods. “I will. Don’t stay out here too long. You’ll get cold.”

I’ll give you sixty seconds before I send him out.

With those as her final words, she gathers the hem of her dress away from her feet and re-enters the palace, leaving me alone outside with my father.

If there wasn’t a chill in the air before, there certainly is now.

He’s trying to hide his emotions, but his body is betraying him. Between his clenched fists and taut shoulders, it’s not hard to see that he’s not only a little bit angry—he’s practically steaming at the ears.

He can’t even look at me.

“It’s cold,” I say after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “We should step back inside.”

He grunts and holds the door open, motioning for me to go in before him.

“Thank you.” I pass through first, and the warmth inside the palace instantly calms my prickling skin. “You said you were looking for me?”

“Yes.” His jaw tightens, and he focuses his gaze on a spot somewhere over my right shoulder. “I was coming to inform you that I’ll be leaving now with Rosalyn and Jasmine.”

Of course you are.

“She is understandably extremely upset by tonight’s turn of events, and it would be unfair to her to subject her to this party any longer than I already have.”

“And you think it’s fair to leave me here? Alone?” I wrap my arms around my waist. “Can’t Rosalyn go with her?”

“Jesus, Harriet. Are you not remorseful for a second over what you’ve done here tonight? I have no idea how you managed to make this happen—how you even got in contact with the Royal Family, but it hardly matters right now. You’ve ruined your sister’s life.”

“Ruined her life? Over a mere marriage?” All the bitterness that’s been festering inside me tonight bubbles out of me in a cold laugh that makes him flinch. “Well, then I do apologise for ruining her life. I can’t possibly imagine how traumatised she’ll be in twenty years’ time as she remembers how everyone coddled her and held her hand through this horrifically traumatic time. Perhaps she’ll have panic attacks over the complete injustice of it all.”

He finally looks at me, something wavering in his gaze, something that looks a little like guilt. “You shouldn’t have kept it a secret.”

“What, like you kept me secret?”

“That’s unfair.”

“It is. You’re right. It is unfair, isn’t it? Because I’ve been back home for two years, and you’ve not even breathed my name outside of the house.” My fingers curl into my palms. “All I ever wanted was to come home. It’s all I ever dreamt of. When that miracle finally came, I found my mother dead, my father remarried, and me replaced.”

“I didn’t replace you with Jasmine.” His eyebrow twitches. “She’s—Harriet, I thought you were dead.”

“Did you do a DNA test on that body? The one you claimed was mine as you buried it?”

He pales, saying nothing.

And it says everything.

“Exactly,” I say, my voice wavering. “Because you didn’t care. If I was declared dead, nobody would bat an eyelid over you eventually adopting—what was it you told people? Your cousin’s daughter?”