Blackstone Ranger Scrooge: Blackstone Rangers Book 6 Page 15

  Natalia stuffed everything back into the bag, and Orson rushed over to take it from her. “I’ll keep this one here, though,” she said, placing the stuffed cat on her lap.

  The beaming look on J.D.’s face made his heart clench. It was obvious she had taken that as a sign of Natalia’s approval, and Cam sighed with relief.

  Natalia nodded at Orson when he reappeared. “Orson, please have the staff begin the tea service.”

  “Right away, ma’am.”

  She turned to J.D. and Cam. “Now, you two are mates, correct? And you are a shifter? Tell me, how did you know my Aleksandr was your mate? Was it when you met? What happened?”

  “Well, that’s one hell of a—uh, heckuva story,” J.D. said, snorting. “You see, I was stealing some candy from—”

  “J.D., she doesn’t need to know all the details of our meet-cute.” He emphasized the last word, to remind her of that conversation they had after said meet-cute.

  “Our meet—oh. Right.” She winked at him not-so-inconspicuously. “Ma’am, I didn’t know you knew about mates. You’re human, correct?”

  “Oh, yes. And of course I do.” She clapped her hands together. “I was recently informed of the existence of mates. As you know, Aleksandr’s dear cousin, King Aleksei, met his own fated mate in Queen Sybil. The strength of their union is renowned. Such a happy couple, and they produced the most adorable prince.” Her expression brightened. “Oh my, and it must be fate that my Aleksandr should find his own mate here as well. Had I known, I wouldn’t have objected to him coming to Blackstone so much. And I can’t believe it took you so long to meet.” She tsked. “All this time wasted.”

  “It was only a few months, babushka.”

  “When you have as little time left as I, a few months is a lifetime. If you had met her the moment you stepped off the plane, she might already be breeding—”

  “Babushka,” he warned, as gently as he could.

  Thank goodness Orson, his under butler, and the maid arrived with the tea service. They set down cups, a teapot, cream, and a tiered tray filled with various savories and sweets, plus plates of scones and pots of jam and clotted cream.

  “Wow,” J.D. exclaimed. “Great spread. I thought we were just drinking tea,” she snorted. “I even practiced lifting my pinkie and everything.” And to show them, she took a teacup and saucer, put it to her lips, her pinkie lifting into an exaggerated position. The clattering sound of the cup hitting the saucer when she put it down made Natalia start, her hand going to her chest.

  “Uh, J.D., love,” he said gently, taking his grandmother’s delicate, hundred-year-old china away from J.D. “It’s only a myth that that’s how you drink tea. You don’t have to do that.” Dear Lord, please don’t, he added silently.

  “Oh. Sorry,” she said sheepishly at Natalia.

  Cam cleared his throat. “May I pour you some tea, babushka?”

  The rest of the tea proceeded without much incident. Cam tried his best to steer the conversation away from J.D., so she wouldn’t feel like she was being interrogated or pressured with great-grandchildren talk. He asked Natalia about her travels and how she spent the last few months, how her friends were as such, and what the latest gossip was back in England. When J.D. started fidgeting and stirring her spoon in her teacup with a loud clanging sound, he gently placed his hand on top of hers to make her stop. Silently, she withdrew her hand and leaned back on the couch.

  “So,” Natalia began, turning to J.D. “Aleksandr has told you about the ball at Blackstone Castle, yes?”

  “Uh, kinda, yeah.”

  “I am so looking forward to it, and seeing my grand-nephew again,” Natalia continued. “Cam and I have not seen him or his queen since the wedding. By the way, are you acquainted with Queen Sybil?”

  “Oh yeah. I saved her when she got drunk at a party, and now her father lets me chop down a tree in his mountains for Christmas.”

  Natalia’s brows furrowed. “Chop down a—”

  “What she means is,” Cam interrupted, squeezing J.D.’s knee. “She saved Her Majesty’s life when they were young. The Blackstone Dragon was so thankful that he gave J.D. a reward.”

  “You saved her …” Natalia’s eyes widened. “It really is fate. Oh, they will be so happy when we see them.” She turned back to Cam. “I nearly forgot to tell you the reason when I insisted on coming. I must speak to your cousin as soon as possible.”

  “Whatever for, babushka?”

  “I have had more news.” Her lower lip trembled. “About my dear Sasha.”

  “Who?” J.D. interjected.

  Cam took a deep breath. For almost all his life, he’d heard about Sasha. “My grandmother’s nephew,” he said. “Grand Duke Aleksandr, the son of her eldest brother, the Crown Prince Ivan.”

  “Sasha is a nickname for Aleksandr,” Natalia explained. “And my dear grandson was named after him. I was only ten years old when he was born, and I adored him.” She laughed, though there was a distinct sadness in her eyes. “He was but a child when the rebels stormed the palace. We were to escape together. Me, him, and his mother. But we were separated. I can’t remember why. I was running, and they were behind me and then … they were gone. I tried to go back, but …”

  “Most of our research has led us to believe that mother and son had perished in the revolution—er, rebellion,” he corrected when Natalia sent him a freezing glare. “Unfortunately, there is nothing left of the palace or the city.”

  “But he didn’t die in the palace,” Natalia insisted. “I know it. I can feel it. I don’t know if he is alive now, but for many years, I could feel that he was somewhere in the world. And now I have proof that he lived on.”

  “Really?” J.D. asked. “What proof?”

  Cam sighed inwardly. Growing up, he’d heard the all stories. And seen firsthand the effects of his grandmother’s futile quest. For most of her life, she’d searched for the lost prince, and that attracted every kind of conman, charlatan, and impostor looking for a payout by taking advantage of a desperate woman’s grief. “Babushka, we’ve been through this before—”

  “Shush, Cam.” J.D. held up a hand. “I wanna know more.”

  Natalia smiled at her gratefully. “I swear this time, my proof is irrefutable. A witness came to me, telling me that they had seen a dragon flying over a lake along the borders of Ukraine and Belarus, where Zaratena used to be.”

  “A dragon?”

  “Yes. And so I said it must be my Sasha.”

  J.D. looked confused, so Cam explained. “My grandmother had a middle brother, Prince Peter. He was our official emissary to the Northern Isles, building our relations with them. In exchange, they sent one of their dragon guards to Zaratena to guard the Crown Prince and his family. It was a great honor. Prince Peter was in the Northern Isles when the rebellion happened, and the then-king, Aleksei’s grandfather, gave him sanctuary. He married a local noble, and their daughter, Natasha, married the king’s son, Harald, and became queen.”

  “What happened to the dragon guard in Zaratena?” J.D. asked, scooting to the edge of the couch.

  “That’s just it. He was lost too,” Cam said. “Killed along with the prince and his mother.”

  “But don’t you see? The dragon guard is still alive!” Natalia exclaimed. “There are so very few of them these days. Aleksei would be able to confirm if this dragon is the same dragon guard his grandfather sent long ago. If so, that means he’s still protecting Sasha.”

  “If Sasha was still alive, he’d be old. Why wouldn’t he come forward? Why—”

  “Cam!” J.D. warned. “You’re making your grandmother upset,” she added in a low voice that only his shifter hearing could pick up.

  He blew out a breath. “Look, I didn’t mean to, but we must face the truth. It’s been a long—”

  “Hello, hello!” The door burst open. “Your Highness, I—” Arabella stopped short, a look of false surprise on her face. “Oh my. Apologies, I didn’t realize you had company.”
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  “What the hell is she still doing here?” J.D. snarled, shooting up to her feet.

  “J.D., calm yourself,” Cam urged, trying to tug her back down to the couch. Of course, his polar bear roared at him, vexed that their mate was upset by that horrible woman.

  She slapped his hand away. “Calm down? You said she’d be sent away. That we’d never have to see her again!”

  “Oh dear,” Natalia said. “I’m sorry. This is my fault.” The old woman shook her head. “Arabella has decided to stay.”

  “And why the hell—heck would you do that?” J.D. snarled.

  “Because I have my own invitation to the Christmas ball.” Arabella sauntered toward them, a smug smile on her face. “Well, my father, the Earl of Farthingdale does, but I RSVPed in his place, and since I was already in town, I decided to remain here. I’m staying in a suite one floor below.”

  J.D.’s face turned red. She looked like she was trying really hard not to explode.

  Cam had no doubt that Arabella had screamed and cried to her father until the earl somehow found a way to get an invitation. The old git could never say no to his spoiled daughter.

  “Arabella,” he began as he stood up and put an arm around J.D. mustering as much coldness as he could. “This is a private moment.” His polar bear, too, chuffed at her. It was angry because Arabella had upset their mate. “It’s not proper for you to just enter Her Highness’s suite when you wish.” He made a mental note to tell Orson and speak with Natalia’s head of security. “If you have business with my grandmother, you can make an appointment with her social secretary.”

  Arabella’s nostrils flared and her lips pursed, but she shrank back. “As you wish, Your Grace.” Her eyes looked J.D. up and down. “Nice outfit.”

  It was a miracle he didn’t have to drag J.D. away as he could feel her cat ready to swipe its claws at Arabella.

  When the door closed behind his former fiancé, Natalia spoke up. “Perhaps we should continue our tea? J.D., kotyonok, please have a seat. Have you had real scones and clotted cream? I grew to love them in England, and I insisted Cook learn to make them from scratch.”

  J.D. took a deep breath and composed herself before sitting back down. “They look delicious.”

  Cam sat stiffly as they continued their tea, with small talk this time. There was no more mention of lost princes and dragons. Though it wasn’t as intense as before, he could still feel his mate’s seething anger. She was obviously angry at the whole situation, and he was kicking himself for thinking that Arabella would just go away without any fuss.

  However, one thing that did reduce his worry was his grandmother’s obvious acceptance of J.D. He smiled to himself at Natalia’s name for J.D. Kotyonok. Kitten. Natalia had always had great instincts.

  Finally, it was time to say goodbye, and he and J.D. stood up. “It was lovely to see you, babushka.”

  “Always, lyuba.” She turned to J.D. “And you, kotyonok. I know you must be very busy, but perhaps you can visit me again soon before the ball?”

  “Of course,” she said. “And thank you … for the food and tea and everything.”

  “Most welcome. And thank you for the gifts.”

  He embraced Natalia and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll come by tomorrow after work.”

  As soon as they left the suite, J.D.’s demeanor turned even more sullen. She was still mad at him, somehow, even though it wasn’t his fault Arabella was here. He ran through a million things in his head of what he could do or say to her, but nothing seemed right. His ribs felt like they were being squeezed in, and J.D.’s silence only fueled his own anxiety. What would happen now? And how was he going to make things up to her?

  They drove back to town, and since they hadn’t talked about where they would go, he went in the direction of her house. In her current mood, he wasn’t going to take any chances, and she probably needed some time alone. He would drop her off, and if she didn’t want to speak to him, he would leave her for now.

  His bear, however, disagreed. It urged him to make things right. It didn’t care how, but it was unhappy at J.D.’s current mood.

  We just need to leave her alone. Just give her some time. Maybe I can call Aleksei and ask him to un-invite Arabella. He and his second cousin were not close, but maybe— “Sonafabitch!”

  J.D. screeched when he slammed on the brake, her hand slamming on the dash as her seatbelt prevented her from careening forward. “What the hell, Cam?”

  Anger seethed in him, threatening to boil over as he saw the familiar black pickup truck outside J.D.’s house. Not even bothering to turn off the engine, he flew out of his Range Rover.

  Where the fuck is that bloody wanker? He wasn’t in the truck, and so he proceeded toward the house. Sure enough, that bastard was there, standing on the porch. But what the hell was he doing?

  As he got closer, he saw Roy at the door, a bucket at his feet. He held a brush in his hand and was vigorously scrubbing at the wall. “What the— “

  His vision turned red. His polar bear charged at his ribcage, wanting to get out. Though most of the vile words had been scrubbed off, he knew what it said. He crossed the distance between him and Jorrell with ground-eating steps.

  “Did you do this?” he growled, grabbing the other man by the shirt and pulling him away.

  “What the hell?” he exclaimed, whipping around, the brush flying from his hand. “Who—Oh, fuck you, man!”

  The punch caught him off guard and hit him square on the jaw. “Why you—”

  “Oh, not again! For crying out loud!” J.D. screamed, standing between them and herding him away.

  “Look at what he did!” Cam cried. “Those words.”

  “I was trying to get them out, you buffoon!” Jorrell snarled back. Picking up the brush, he shoved it forward at Cam’s face. “They were already here yesterday when she came home. Alone and barefoot,” he added, just to rub more salt in the wound. “Just where the hell were you when this happened? I don’t see you tryin’ to help her.”

  “He’s telling the truth, Cam,” J.D. said. “Please. I don’t want to do this right now.”

  A dark ugly feeling crept into his chest. “If I haven’t made it clear yet, then let me state it in plain English. Stay. Away. From. My. Mate.”

  He spat and dropped the brush. “Yeah, whatever.”

  “Roy,” J.D. began. “I’m sorry. I … you didn’t have to do this. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right, J.D.” The look of tenderness he gave her made Cam want to rip his head off. “I was driving by, and I saw you hadn’t cleaned it up. I had a bucket in my truck so I thought I’d save you the trouble.”

  Cam let out an inhuman roar, and he knew if that bastard didn’t leave, his bear would rip out of him. “J.D.,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “You should go, Roy,” she said. “Please.”

  The other man let out a snort, shot Cam a dirty look, then walked back toward his truck. As soon as he peeled off, he turned to J.D. “I suppose this is a taste of my own medicine.”

  “What?” The expression on her face was pure confusion.

  “Him. And you and Arabella.”

  “Ara … Oh my God! Are you jealous, Cam?”

  “I’m not—” His bear roared so loud in his ears, his eardrums nearly burst. “Yes. Yes I am.” He swallowed, feeling his previous words about how jealousy was unreasonable slide down his throat. “I’m jealous, all right? Happy now? Are you done being angry with me?”

  “Cam.” With a deep breath, she took his hands in hers. “Yes, I was jealous of Arabella. But not the way you think. And that’s not why I’m upset.” Light hazel eyes peered up at him as she lifted her head to his. “I did everything wrong today, didn’t I?”

  “J.D.—”

  “No, no, you don’t have to sugarcoat it,” she said sheepishly. “I said all the wrong things, I did all the wrong things, hell, I even wore the wrong clothes.”

  “Natalia adored you. That’s all that
matters to me.”

  “Thank you. I adore her too. But … that’s not going to be enough, is it? To be … by your side. When you take your place and do all the things you need to do. I’ll have to attend parties with all kinds of important people. Probably host them, too. And meet more kings and queens than there are fingers on my hand. Arabella … she … she would be the kind of woman that could do all those things for you. I’m just a mechanic’s daughter from Brooklyn.”

  “Don’t.” He wanted to tell her she didn’t have to worry about anything. But J.D. was too smart for that, and he respected her too much to act condescendingly. “There’s nothing you can do or say that would make me not choose to be with you.”

  “It’s okay, really.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m glad this happened. Because I’m not giving up, Cam.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No, goddammit.” She placed her hands on her hips. “I’ll do what it takes. I’ll put on a fancy dress, learn how to say all the right things, have the manners and social grace. I’m going to be such a good mate for you that people will shoot rainbows out of their fucking asses if I ask them to.”

  There was a species of goats native to North America called myotonic goats. These goats had a peculiar genetic condition that made their muscles seize up when they were frightened, causing them to fall over, and thus many nicknamed them “fainting goats.” J.D.’s declaration had scared and thrilled him at the same time that he couldn’t move, as if his own muscles were suffering from myotonia congenita. So, he remained in place, staring at her for what seemed like eternity.

  “Cam?”

  As if it had been shot by lightning, his brain kicked into gear. “You’re so fucking brilliant. And I love you.”

  This time, it was J.D. who seemed to have suffered from fainting goat syndrome, because her knees buckled from under her. His quick reflexes, thankfully, saved her from completely falling over. “Are you all right?”

  “Did you just say … that you …you love me?”