Royal Package - Lili Valente Page 0,64

an entire set of bleachers, packed with men and women holding cameras and video recorders, all of which zoom my way as I stand, frozen like a corseted, loudly panting deer in the headlights.

With a squeak of dismay, I scuttle behind a smartly trimmed shrub just large enough to hide my shame.

Everything here is meticulously in order, from the grounds to the horses decked out in their best ceremonial tack, to the rows and rows of basket-carrying servants already arranged four-by-four behind the horses, ready to tote the engagement picnic feast to the top of a hill just over a mile away. The only thing more public and embarrassing I could do than ruin this event for the Von Bergens would be to stand Andrew up at the altar.

I’m already second-guessing my decision, but when I can’t find Andrew among the male figures standing near the horses or milling around the cocktail hour with his cousins or waiting in the sitting room off the dining room, where Felicity and her staff have gathered, I know I’ve run out of time.

I can’t say anything now—not when Andrew’s MIA and Felicity’s distraught by whatever news she’s getting on the phone.

I try to step out of the sitting room to give her privacy, but she spots me and motions me closer. “No, Jeffrey, it’s not my forgiveness you need to ask. It’s Andrew and Elizabeth’s. I’m putting her on the phone right now.”

I shake my head, but the queen places her cell in my palm and wraps my fingers around it, leaving me no choice but to put the phone to my ear. “Hello, Jeffrey,” I say, heart racing as I force a thin smile for the queen. “What’s up?”

“I’m not going to make it home in time for the engagement ceremony,” he says softly. “But we both know that isn’t such a big deal. Don’t we, Sabrina?”

Time slows, and my blood swooshes dizzily in my ears.

Caught! I’m caught.

Has he told his mother, I wonder, my eyes darting to her pinched face.

The queen looks upset, but upset in a “my child is going to miss an important family event” kind of way, not an “I’ve been lady-bonding with the wrong good-for-nothing future daughter-in-law” kind of way.

“Um…” I trail off, my tongue cramping as I try to figure out how to respond. “I uh, um, uh…”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t told Andrew.” Jeffrey cuts me off. “Or anyone else, and I won’t until I get back to the city. I wanted to out you the moment I knew for sure, but I thought it would be easier for my brother if you come clean on your own.”

“I already planned to,” I say, my voice thin and strained. “And I will. I promise.”

“Good,” Jeffrey says, before adding in a low growl, “and your sister is fine, by the way. Just stubborn as hell and refusing to listen to reason.”

“I am not stubborn! And you swore you wouldn’t call Sabrina, you liar,” a voice that sounds awfully like Lizzy’s shouts in the background, in reply to which Jeff growls, “Get back in bed.”

What the what?!

Get back in where?!

What the hell is going on, and why are Lizzy and a bed both involved?

Holding the phone tighter, I turn my back on the queen as I whisper, “Jeffrey? Is that my sister? Let me talk to my sister!”

But the line goes dead before he answers.

Stifling a groan of frustration, I darken the screen and take a deeper breath, trying to calm my galloping pulse. But it’s no use. My heart is an oil piston, churning madly, refusing to stop until it pumps every last bit of composure out of my body, leaving me a trembling, babbling mess.

My hand is visibly shaking as I turn and hand the queen her cell, and I’m sure my smile looks more like a grimace.

But as usual, Felicity is too kind to comment on the fact that I’m a basket case. “I’m so sorry,” she says, gently squeezing my arm. “I promise this isn’t a reflection on you or Jeffrey’s support for the marriage. It’s my fault for being too lenient with all three of them while they were growing up.”

I shake my head. “No, it isn’t. You’re wonderful.”

She is wonderful—far too wonderful for a daughter-in-law who has lied her face off to her and everyone else in her family since the moment we met.

“I should have done a better job of impressing upon them the importance of honoring your obligations,” she insists. “And