Page 80 of Scandal Queen

“And you know everything about E’s do you?” John’s voice hardened.

“Sadly yes.” I met his pale blue gaze before flickering my attention to Ollie who stood like a man torn between two ropes pulling him in opposite directions.

“John, can you take her to our old apartment?” Oliver reached for his brother, clutching him tight around the forearm. “The beds should still be made up. Slip her into one and we will have to hope she sleeps it off.”

“Oliver, she can’t be left. She could be sick and choke.” I didn’t need to fill in the blanks that most drug-related deaths were due to obstructed airways—apart from Ecstasy which could make your brain swell in moments.

He scrubbed a hand though his hair, his beautiful face torn.

“It’s okay, I won’t go back to the dinner. It won’t be the first time I’m in trouble for missing a state event,” John said.

A flicker of hesitation creased Oliver’s face, but John waved it away. “Better I’m in trouble than you. At least if I miss a state dinner, the press won’t talk about it. You both need to be in there.”

I looked between the brothers. “Let me call Janine. She’s the best one to have here now anyway.”

“Your boss?”

The fact John knew my boss’ name registered with me, but I didn’t bother to question it. “My boss, but she’s also a trained rehabilitation counsellor.” I straightened up realising I’d dropped my all-important handbag somewhere. Oliver stepped for the door and opened it, speaking to someone on the other side, his voice murmuring low.

Closing the door again, he shortened the space between us and ran his hand along the bare skin of my arm. “Sorry, this isn’t the way tonight was supposed to go.”

“No?”

His lips curved just a fraction. “I should have stuck with my plan of mince pies and mulled wine.”

John rolled his eyes. “You are so cliché it’s frightening.”

“Nothing is ruined,” I said. “Janine can come and she will help, of course she will.” I tried to smile at him, but his statement wasn’t wrong. That moment of perfection in the chapel had long disappeared. Possibly a sign of what our marriage would be like, outside factors always pulling our attention away from one another. I didn’t know. I couldn’t imagine what any of it would be like.

Oliver stepped closer, his lips brushing my ear. “It is official in all the ways that matter.”

The door opened, a member of liveried staff holding my small clutch bag just as Isabella lifted onto her elbows, her skin now a dull grey and stared at us through unseeing eyes. “I’m sorry,” she blurted before a gush of vomit spurted from her mouth and all over my dress.

Nineteen

The vacated royal apartment had more people in it than I’d ever seen. It was close to midnight and I struggled to keep my eyes open. John had stayed with Isabella until Janine had arrived at the palace. Then he’d slipped back into the dinner as Janine took over. The royal physician had also been in attendance; apparently, he was the most discreet man in London. Oliver had promised to explain more on that later. I actually didn’t have the energy left to wait to hear any amusing anecdotes on royal physical ailments.

I wanted to go to bed.

I wanted to wake up tomorrow, just Ollie and I, and be able to stare in wonder at my ring.

That wasn’t happening.

Janine and the doctor came out of the spare bedroom where Isabella had been taken, and the King got up to greet them. Drawn and pale, he looked like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Maybe it did. I hadn’t understood just how deep the royal secrets were buried. Oliver had said Isabella drank too much and got high. No one had said she was popping ecstasy before royal events. Only this morning in my cottage she’d looked awful; red eyed and edgy. Had there even been a dinner with her friends? Or had she been in the palace just zoning out of reality?

I began to realise that the royal family weren’t being honest with themselves, let alone anyone else.

The truth hurt. I knew that. I’d lived it.

“She will be fine. I’ve given her an intravenous drip to flush her system and rehydrate her.” The doctor looked like he wanted to add something but didn’t. Another secret.

“Thank you.” The King nodded, his voice tight. I squirmed as he turned to look at me. “And thank you, Leia. Your actions have helped us this evening.”

Ollie, who sat next to me on the brown leather sofa rubbed his hand up my back. I turned to glance at him, his bow tie hung undone around his neck. The top button on his white dress shirt exposed the pulse in the base of his throat. His eyes shadowed with grey, his lips drawn into a straight line.

“How long has she been like this?” I asked.

He stared at me for a moment. “A while.”