A Tale of Two Cousins (A Papaioannou Novel Book 3) Page 24

  Theo raised an eyebrow. “Anyone with working eyes is going to be able to tell those are real diamonds. Damn. All I gave Kiera was the house in Parga, not that she knows I put the house in her name, so don’t mention it or she’ll give me hell, but regardless of that, I’m going to look like a cheapskate next to you.”

  “It’s not a contest, Theo,” Dmitri laughed, closing the case and tucking it his breast pocket. He hoped Thyra would like the design, aware it was very old-fashioned, but he felt the fact that she treasured her mother’s dress meant she liked vintage and antique items. And with luck, she might feel like wearing the necklace to get married in. He felt sure his mother and grandfather would approve of that.

  Almost three hours later, he stood outside the whitewashed Church of St. George at the top of Lycabettus, and greeted his bride-to-be. The officiant, a man whose last-minute services had come at a price Dmitri fervently prayed Thyra never learned, murmured something pointed about hoping the ceremony wouldn’t take long, since the day was getting hot.

  Harry and Kiera had clearly been busy with Thyra, since part of her gloriously black hair was twisted up onto the back of her head, with the rest spilling down her back in long curls. Her glasses glinted in the sunlight, and behind them, her eyes smiled at him, their golden depths as clear as the amber stones he prayed she’d accept.

  “You look like a goddess come down to earth,” he told her, going in for a kiss, but, at a cleared throat from her brother, managed to divert the kiss to the tip of her nose. “I have a present for you, but before you even think about objecting, know that it didn’t cost me anything. My mother gave it to me before she died. I thought you might want to wear it today.”

  He pulled the jeweler’s box out of his pocket before she could do more than start to scowl, opening it and placing it in her hands. “I hope you like amber. It has a royal history, which I thought was fitting for you. Evidently it belonged to some Russian princess, but the son she left it to died without children, and he gave it to a cousin, and after that, it ended up on the market. My grandfather bought it shortly after 1945.”

  “Oh,” she said, staring down at it for a moment, then to his utter surprise burst into laughter. “It’s ... it’s gorgeous, Dmitri. I’m sure the Grand Duchess Victoria Feodorovna would be pleased, as well.”

  “Grand Duchess Victoria?” He must have looked confused, but when Thyra lifted the back of her hair and turned around, he slipped the necklace around her throat and fastened it, pleased that she liked his offering.

  “Yes, that’s who it originally belonged to.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her how she knew the history of the necklace, but almost immediately, he was distracted.

  “Holy cheese balls, that’s gorgeous,” Kiera said, coming forward with Peter dressed in a little suit, complete with shorts, and shiny black shoes that were already covered with dirt and smudges. “Is that amber? Those pearls are massive! It’s so pretty on you, and it goes perfectly with your dress.”

  “What does? Dammit, am I missing things? Yacky, let me off this thing.”

  “I will if you let me unbuckle the seat belt, Eglantine,” Iakovos said sternly, but helped Harry off the motorized mobility scooter that had brought her up the side of the mountain. “I’m going to put a chair over here in the shade. If you get the least bit tired, I want you to sit. Here is some cold water.”

  “Honestly, you’d think we haven’t done this three times before,” Harry told them all.

  “You had contractions this morning,” Iakovos told her. “You could go into labor at any moment.”

  “Those were Braxton-Hicks, and you know it. Now. Where is this pretty thing—oooh, the necklace? That is absolutely beautiful! Nicely done, Dmitri.”

  “It was my mother’s,” he said, watching Harry worriedly for a few moments. She seemed a bit flushed despite the wide-brimmed hat, but he put that down to the excitement of the day. “I think in order to keep Jake from exploding with worry, we should get this wedding under way.”

  “Sorry, I got held up by a tourist who was lost,” Chris said, hurrying up the last of the hill, pausing to wipe his face before approaching Thyra. “It’s time, sister.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” she said, turning toward him, one hand on the necklace. “Look what Dmitri gave me as a wedding present.”

  Dmitri thought his almost brother-in-law’s eyes were going to fall out. He stared at it, then glanced up at Thyra, who made a face at him. “It’s the necklace.”

  “Yes. Dmitri’s grandfather bought it in 1945.”

  Chris looked thoughtful. “Princess Henry of Karne?”

  “Probably.”

  “How do you know about this necklace?” Dmitri asked, more confused than ever.

  Thyra sighed. “It’s part of a set of jewels owned by the Grand Duchess Victoria Feodorovna, who died in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. She was related to my family, which is why Chris dragged this all the way out from Scotland.”

  “At no little cost, may I point out,” Chris said, pulling a big square velvet box from his overnight bag. “I had to get special insurance for the week it’s away from the bank, the cost of which will eat up all of the rise in salary I just received, so I hope you’re grateful, sister mine.”

  “What—oh my God.” Harry grabbed Iakovos’s arm when Chris opened the box and removed a silk-wrapped object, pulling off the cloth to reveal a tiara that glittered brilliantly in the sun. “She has a crown!”

  “Tiara, not crown,” Thyra said. “We’re not monarchs, so we only wear tiaras. Well, the ladies do. The princes in my family get stiffed in that regard.”

  Dmitri stared in amazement at the tiara, noting the linked circles set with diamonds; in the center of each, a large pearl hung, while above it, set on diamond-encrusted peaks between each circle, an inverted amber teardrop rose. The bottom of the tiara held a band of still more diamonds, followed by a line of perfectly matched pearls.

  The gems in it looked to be incredibly pure. It had to be worth a fortune. No, more than a fortune ... it was priceless. His princess, who had spent her last twenty-seven euros on him, had in her possession a priceless tiara the likes of which he’d never seen.

  “This is the Feodorovna tiara,” Chris said, placing it on Thyra’s head. “All the women in our family wear it at special occasions, weddings included.”

  “I’m so sorry about this,” Thyra told Dmitri, her eyes searching his. “But Chris would make a fuss if I didn’t wear it. He’ll take it back just as soon as this is over.”

  “Damn straight I will. Bloody thing is worth more than your fiancé and his company,” Chris murmured, pulling another item out of the tiara box. It appeared to be a diamond royal order, the kind with a miniature in the center that Dmitri had seen various kings and queens wear at state affairs. This one had a diamond-edged background of blue beneath the diamond cross, topped by two laurel wreaths (also set with diamonds) that ended in three large vertical stones. Dmitri’s mind staggered to a halt trying to figure out how much the order was worth.

  “I think I need that chair,” Harry said, blinking rapidly. “Holy moly, a princess with a crown is marrying our family. I am so writing this into a book. I’m just ... wow. So very many wows.”

  Dmitri knew how Harry felt. He was feeling a bit stunned himself, which was why when Iakovos escorted her over to the chair in the shade, he didn’t pay attention to Harry doubling over.

  “So both the tiara and the necklace belonged to the same person?” Kiera asked, a horrified look on her face when Peter lunged forward, trying to grab the necklace that glittered in the sunlight.

  “You guys are making too much about this,” Thyra said, gesturing away the general sense of disbelief that clearly gripped everyone but the Sonderburg-Becks. “It’s just a tiara. Yes, it’s ironic that Dmitri gave me the necklace that goes along with it, but truly, it’s nothing to—um. Do we know those people?”

  A group of three men emerged
from the path, which had been closed for the half hour necessary to conduct the ceremony, all of whom had big digital cameras slung around their respective necks.

  “Paparazzi,” Dmitri snarled, and started forward toward them. The bastards took one look at Thyra standing in a tiara, diamonds and pearls all but dripping off her, and their cameras started clicking.

  Theo moved protectively in front of Kiera and Peter, but Alexis was at Dmitri’s side as he stalked forward to the photographers, growling, “This is a private ceremony. You will leave now.”

  “Don’t be that way. We were told that you were happy for us to take a few shots of you getting married,” one of the men called, the camera held to his eye.

  “Is that Prince Christian standing with Princess Juliane, Dmitri?” another photographer asked when Dmitri and Alexis tried to block their view. He glanced behind to see where Iakovos was, but he was squatting next to Harry, where she sat on the chair. In front of them, Thyra stood holding Valentino, who had been in Alexis’s charge, while Theo looked torn between guarding his family and helping with the photographers.

  “Go,” Dmitri heard Kiera say as she pushed him forward. “We’ll be fine. Get rid of those creeps.”

  “Finally getting married, are you, Dmitri?” another of the paparazzi called. “Does that mean the rumors are true that Papaioannou International is investing in Beck?”

  “Are you going to be part of the Beck royal family?” a woman behind the photographer called out, holding out a digital recorder. “What title will you have?”

  “How much are you investing in Beck?”

  “How long have you known Princess Juliane, Dmitri?”

  “Prince Christian, what do you think of the proposal to give your cousin Friederich your title?”

  The questions came hard and fast, tumbling over one another in the press’s determination to get some information from them. Dmitri was an old hand at handling them, having done so for years on Iakovos’s behalf, but suddenly, he seemed to have lost his panache. “I have no statement other than you are intruding on a private event. If you don’t leave now, I’ll be happy to escort you down the path,” he snarled, his voice filled with threat.

  “Come on, just let us film the ceremony, and we’ll let you be,” the third said, glancing at the others. “Theo, you best man for your cousin?”

  “That’s enough out of all of you,” Dmitri said, and started forward toward the photographers.

  “We’ll take care of them,” Theo told him in a low voice, glancing behind at the interlopers. “Go marry the princess so she can take off that crown, and we can get out of here.”

  “What’s going on with Iakovos and his wife? She sick?” a voice called out, followed immediately by, “Theo, you going to tell us the name of your wife?”

  Dmitri debated shoving a couple of the photographers off the side of the mountain, but he decided in hindsight that it was better to do as Theo asked.

  “I believe you have been asked to leave,” Chris said, strolling toward them. “If you remain, you are liable for harassment charges.”

  “You give your official blessing to the marriage, Prince Christian?” one of the men called. “You happy to have your sister married off to a man who can pump millions into Beck?”

  “Get the hell out of here,” Chris thundered, and for a minute, Dmitri thought he might go after the men, but with a worried eye at Thyra, who stood close to Kiera, he decided to take care of the most pressing matter first.

  “Keep them back,” he said quietly to Chris, and quickly ran across the paved area to take Thyra by her hand. He stopped in front of the officiant, saying quickly in Greek, “We are ready to proceed. The press is here, and we wish to avoid further confrontation with them, so speed is appreciated.”

  The man nodded and started reciting the civil ceremony, which Dmitri translated in a low tone to Thyra. She set Valentino down, holding firmly to his leash with one hand, her other hand gripping Dmitri’s so tight, he had to wiggle his fingers to bring blood back to them.

  Suddenly, in the middle of it, Iakovos ran past them toward the path, shouting. “Get those bastards out of my way,” he roared, almost shoving one of them off the path and into the steep slope of scrubby shrubs. “Harry’s water broke, and she’s gone into labor. I knew she would! I told her, but would anyone listen to me? Where the hell is the ambulance I hired?”

  “Oh no! Should we—” Thyra started to pull her hand from Dmitri’s, but he held tight to it.

  “No. We’re almost done. Finish it,” he added to the officiant, who evidently knew enough English to understand that Harry was about to give birth. Kiera was at her side now, looking helpless. “Think of round things,” Dmitri heard her tell Harry. “It’ll help calm you.”

  “I’m very calm,” Harry said, and he had to admit, she didn’t look particularly distressed. “It’s Iakovos who is going to burst a blood vessel if he doesn’t stop saying ‘I told you so,’ which, as any woman in labor will tell you, is just way out of line. Oh, lord, I think a contraction is coming. No, don’t hold my hand. Wheel the scooter over and let me hold on to it.”

  While Theo, Alexis, and Chris more or less shoved the photographers down the path to the barrier that closed it off during the ceremony, and Harry leaned on the scooter at an awkward angle, moaning and rocking as she worked her way through a contraction, Dmitri promised to take Thyra for his wife from that day forward.

  By the time Iakovos returned with four men pushing a wheeled gurney, Harry was walking around in a small circle, Thyra holding one arm, while Kiera was on the other.

  Harry was wearing the tiara, a fact that made Iakovos come to an abrupt halt in front of her, an indescribable look on his face.

  “Thyra thought it would distract me,” Harry said between pants. “It’s pretty cool, you have to admit. I can tell our baby that while I was having her, I got to wear a real royal crown. You better take it back now, Thyra—I think I’m going to have another one.”

  Jake shot Dmitri a look just like it was his fault that Harry had chosen his wedding to go into labor, and by the time that they got her onto the gurney, and down the path to the ambulance that Iakovos had, indeed, hired just in case, Dmitri was starting to see the humor of the situation.

  “Er ...” Kiera gave Thyra an odd look.

  “You want to have a go, too?” Thyra asked, and placed the tiara on her head.

  “Wow! Theo, get your phone. We have to get a couple of selfies.”

  Chris, who had been monitoring the lower path, returned, raising his eyebrows at the sight of Thyra taking pictures of Theo and Kiera. “I take it you’re married all right?”

  Dmitri held out the signed marriage certificate. “We are legal, yes.”

  “Hallelujah,” Thyra said. “Now Kardom can’t do a damned thing. Oh, thanks, but give it to Chris. He’ll tuck it away safely.”

  “And back to the bank it goes tomorrow just as soon as I get back home,” he said, wrapping the tiara and the glittering order before he placed them securely inside the bag.

  “Just out of curiosity,” Dmitri started to ask.

  “Millions,” Chris answered. “Which is why I’d prefer going back to your apartment as soon as possible.”

  “I think he was going to ask why we haven’t sold them,” Thyra said, taking Dmitri’s arm when he picked up Valentino, tucking him under his other arm. “Naturally, he will understand that they don’t really belong to us.”

  “They don’t?” Dmitri asked.

  Thyra shook her head. “We’re just caretakers for them. It’s our duty to preserve them so they can be passed on to the next generation.”

  His eyes widened when he realized that if Thyra and he decided to have children, they might be in line for a hell of an inheritance, and asked, “You do realize the irony of you spending your life in relative poverty, while possessing what is probably literally a king’s ransom in jewels, yes?”

  “Of course. But we could never sell them. They aren’t
ours to sell. We just get to wear them while we’re alive. Do you think Harry is going to hang on until she makes it to the hospital?”

  He shook away the idea of Thyra round with his child, and glared at the trio of persistent photographers who were now perched on motorbikes in the parking lot. Cove was waiting for them, though, and Dmitri got Thyra and Chris into the car before answering, waiting a moment for Alexis—who had gone to threaten the photographers one last time—to join them before breathing a sigh of relief.

  “Dmitri?”

  “Hmm?”

  Thyra’s hand was warm on his, but her eyes were warmer still, glowing with the same rich light as the amber droplets that rested on her chest. “Harry?”

  “Oh, she’ll hang on. Iakovos wouldn’t let her give birth anywhere he didn’t feel was suitable.”

  She laughed, and leaned into him, one hand rubbing Valentino’s head, her hair brushing against his cheek.

  A tight band that he hadn’t known was across his chest seemed to ease as he relaxed into the seat. Thyra was his, legally his, and nothing could change that.

  Now they could settle back and live the rest of their life in happiness.

  It was just going to be that simple.

  FIFTEEN

  The dawn arrived at Athens on soft little winds accompanied by a few high clouds that turned the sky a delicate peach, long fingers of which stretched across the sky until they touched the retreating navy of night.

  And a whole lot of screaming.

  Fortunately, we missed most of it, although occasionally we could hear Harry from where we sat in the maternity waiting room. She definitely had some inventive things to say while she worked out her frustration over the labor being too far along for her to have an epidural.

  I stood outside the hospital, yawning and stretching, wondering if the last eighteen hours had really happened.

  “Did I imagine it, or did we get married yesterday?” I asked Dmitri, whose jaw was faintly black with whiskers, dark smudges under his eyes making it clear that while I had dozed uncomfortably on a chair, he had stayed vigilant, I assumed in support of Iakovos.