13. PURRFECTLY ROYAL
Prologue
Tessa Torrance was giving instructions to the two kids manning the face painting stand. It was still early, and not many people had shown up yet for the annual Royal Newtmore Summer Show, but tickets had sold like crazy, and the day promised to be sunny and fun-filled.
The lithe, raven-haired wife of Prince Dante let her proud gaze drift along the different stalls. She was in charge of the children’s activities, and they were plenty: an urban farm, a big bouncy castle, animal balloons, a puppet show, a unicorn dance party and lots and lots more.
Tessa felt proud of her team of kids who’d worked tirelessly to set everything up. The festivities took over the Newtmore Estate and were always a big draw with the public. A jazz band was warming up nearby, and Master Chocolatier Tait Herder, well-known for his TV show Chocoholics Unite, was setting up shop in the shade of a birch tree.
The proceeds this year were going to the charity foundation Tessa and Dante had recently set up, and the event was very close to their hearts. She was ecstatic, therefore, when ticket sales had exceeded their expectations.
She searched around for her hubby. There were still days when she could hardly believe her luck and had to pinch herself when she woke up. She’d been a struggling actress in a middling TV show that wasn’t all that popular and now here she was: an actual duchess with a global platform, which allowed her to do so much good, with her soulmate as her life partner.
Her phone jangled and she took it out of the back pocket of her black Capri pants.“Yeah, Karlotta, how is she?”
They’d left Silvy in the able care of their nanny Karlotta, a German au-pair who loved their sweet baby girl almost as much as she and Dante did.
“Oh, she is perfectly fine, but I think she misses you, Ma’am,” said the girl with typical breathy exasperation.
“What do you mean? Is she crying?”
“Not crying. Giving me strange looks. As if I’m a dragon and she wants to slay me!”
Tessa laughed. Silvy was prone to bouts of moodiness, and sometimes looked exactly like the au-pair described.
“Don’t worry about that. That’s just her way of saying she’s not happy about something. I’ll bet she’s hungry. Have you fed her?”
“I was just about to, Ma’am,” said the nanny. “But maybe first you should talk to her? She usually settles down when she hears your voice.”
“Put her on,” said Tessa with an indulgent smile. “Hey, baby,” she said when she heard Silvy’s snuffling sounds. “Mommy will be home soon.”
The snuffling intensified in volume, then the baby sneezed, as if to say:‘Why did you leave me alone with this horrible German woman?’
“I’ll try to pop in soon,” she said. She always felt guilty about leaving Silvy in the care of Karlotta, but this event was so very important to her and Dante.
“That’s fine, Ma’am,” said Karlotta. “I will feed her now, shall I?”
“Yes, please do. Oh, and Karlotta?”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“Could you please, please, please just call me Tessa?”
“Of course, Ma’am,” said the girl, then promptly disconnected.
“Oh, blimey,” said Tessa with a smile, then put her phone away.
She looked up when Dante came running up to her, waving his arms.
Oh, how sweet. Two years into their marriage and they were still crazy in love. She waved back. She noticed his face had taken on an even darker tinge of scarlet than usual. A redhead, Dante was prone to ruddiness, something which she thought was awfully cute. She’d never dated a red-haired man before, and now she felt it was one of Dante’s most appealing features.
When he shouted something, and gesticulated wildly, her smile fell.
Then, suddenly, she realized he was pointing to something above her.
She looked up, just in time to see something hurtling down towards her.
In a split second, she threw herself to the side, and moments later the projectile, for that was what it was, crashed to the ground. It was a giant ball of stone, three feet wide, and would have crushed her if she hadn’t jumped.
Dante was upon her, and cried,“Are you all right, Tessa? Tessa!”
“I—I’m fine,” she said, dazed and confused. “Wha—what happened?”
“The stone—it came loose. I saw it happening just as I looked up.”
They both stared at the massive object, then at the top of the wall of Newtmore House where it had fallen from.
“Dante,” she said, a tremor in her voice. “You—you just saved my life.”
Chapter 1
It had been a rough night so far, cat choir a disastrous experience. Shanille, our conductor, had the gall to tell me, and in front of the whole group, too, if you please, that I sang so much out of tune that either I took private lessons to improve my singing, or she was going to kick me out of cat choir altogether.
Apparently—and this is only hearsay so take it with a grain of kibble—two members had complained. They were cats standing in my immediate vicinity, claiming that I sang so loud and so pitchy they had trouble singing in tune themselves, and as a consequence the performance of all the tenors suffered.
Harriet, of course, thought the whole thing hilarious, and had laughed heartily. She, a prominent member of the sopranos, didn’t have to worry about her position and standing, and obviously didn’t care a hoot that I did.
“But I don’t sing out of tune!” I cried in feeble protest, knowing full well that the damage was done and the minds of fellow choir members made up.
Shanille looked hesitant. She doesn’t like disciplining people, but she has a choir to run, and choirs are like leashes: they’re only as strong as their weakest link—or is that chains? At any rate, evidently that weakest link was me.
“Okay,” she finally said, relenting. Possibly for the dear old friendship we shared. “Sing after me.” And she proceeded to intone one of the harder songs on our repertoire, a vocal run I’d never particularly liked or enjoyed singing.
“Ooh-aah-eeh-aah-ooh-aah-aah,” she sang. Beautifully, I might add.
So I repeated the exact same run, only in a lower register. I also closed my eyes, as I’d seen Mariah Carey do, and I adopted the way she likes to touch her ear when she sings. I like to think it makes me look like a professional. But when I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Shanille’s frown.
I gave her my best smile.“How did I do? Blew you away, right?”
“With a wrecking ball,” commented Milo, one of my least favorite choir members.
Shanille swallowed nervously.“Maybe give it another shot, Max,” she said encouragingly. “And this time keep your eyes open and focus on me.”
I could see where she was coming from. After all, what good is a choir conductor if the choir members won’t even bother keeping her in their sights? Only problem is, I feel more in control and able to focus better on my singing when I’m not distracted by the others. But seeing as this was one of those do-or-die moments, I decided not to play hardball but acquiesce instead.
“Ooh-aah-eeh-aah-ooh-aah-aah,” I sang with feeling.
Judging from the way Shanille winced, it was not my best work.
And when the final note had died away, she spoke those fateful words:“Max, I think you should find a private tutor, and only come back when you’ve improved to a spectacular degree.”
“But, Shanille!”
To no avail. I could tell from the way she curled her upper lip she wasn’t budging.
“I’m sorry, Max. I have the other members to think about.”
I let my gaze glide pleadingly over the faces of these other members, most of whom I’d known for years, many who were my bestest, closest friends. Like Dooley, and Brutus, and Harriet. But all I got in return were blank looks. And then Dooley said, “I can tutor you, Max.”
“I don’t think so, Dooley,” said Shanille before I had a chance to respond. “But thanks for the offer.”
“I could tutor him,” said Brutus, a little gruffly.