Edward smiled at her. “Right.”
As they stood back and stared at the grounds of the old mill, Clementine thought to herself that perhaps she and Edward weren’t so different after all. Perhaps they could find spaces in which they saw the world in the same way. Hope fluttered in her chest at the thought of standing next to him in those very spaces, overcoming their differences together.
Now, this was progress.
8
Early the next morning, Edward placed a call to his aides, James and Luther.
“Call a press conference,” he told them. “I have some information to share about the Old Jameson Mill on Route 67 at noon.”
He then texted Lance to be ready to leave by nine.
On the drive to the mill, Edward straightened his tie as he silently thought over his speech for the press conference. His ears were ringing as he prepared himself for the ballsiest move he’d ever taken in his career, a move he was sure would garner reproach as well as surprise from his father. Again, his hand twitched to call his father and let him know…but no, it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.
“Are ya alright back there, sir?” Lance asked. Lance had been his driver for five years. Edward knew the man could read him easily.
“Fine, Lance, just imagining my father’s reaction to this announcement, that’s all.” Edward sighed. Every decision he’d made in his career, he’d made with the hope of winning his father’s approval. Today, he would make the first move of his own volition, and he felt sure it was the last thing his father would have expected of him. But despite his modern tastes, he truly appreciated the beauty of the mill and believed converting it into a B&B would result in a great addition to Sovalon’s tourist destinations.
“I’ve decided to restore the old mill and turn it into a bed-and-breakfast,” he told Lance.
“Ah,” the driver replied. A long pause followed. “It’s a beautiful place, the Jameson Mill.”
“It is.”
“And your lady contractor approves of this decision?” Lance released a chuckle.
“It’s not Clem I’m worried about.” This was the most rebellious move Edward had ever made.
“Ah, the king will come around,” Lance said. “Just get through today.”
Lance’s wise words replayed in Edward’s head as he stepped into the sunshine on the porch at the lovely Jameson Mill. The scent of lavender hung in the air, and the sky was a brilliant blue. In front of him was a sea of reporters, along with some people he recognized as protesters from the castle. His father stood up front, arms crossed over his chest, a stern look on his wrinkled face. Edward avoided his eyes.
One person stood out from the rest. Clem Wicke stood in the middle of the crowd, beaming up at him, her blue eyes full of warmth that flooded him with confidence. A feeling of peace came over him, which was unusual. He typically loathed public speaking. But today, with a message he fully believed in, he felt ready and sure of his ability to deliver.
“Hello and thanks for coming,” he began. Clem winked at him from the audience, and he smiled inwardly. “I’ve gathered you here today to announce my plans for the Jameson Mill.
“When Prince Marcus presented this site for demolition and redevelopment, I imagined sleek condominiums overlooking the water, modern housing at its best. But when I stood back and really took a moment to look at the grounds, the building, the atmosphere here, I realized that this old mill is already a treasure. The working water wheel itself is a wonder and a reminder of what life was like in a different time.”
Marcus shook his head and looked up at their father, but Edward ignored him and continued.
“I’ve decided to repurpose this structure and its grounds.” He held his head high and focused on Clem. “While taking great care to preserve its historical wealth, my team will turn this mill into a beautiful tourist destination with a museum. I believe that the natural beauty of this place deserves to be protected and appreciated.”
A reporter near the back of the crowd raised his hand.
“When will restoration begin, and how much time is slated for the project?” he asked.
“We’re still in preliminary stages of planning, so I can’t answer that question,” Edward replied. “But we’ll make everything known to the public as soon as decisions are made.”
Another hand went up.
“With all due respect, restoring historical sites hasn’t exactly been your priority, Prince Edward. What is it about this old mill that changed your mind?”
Edward’s eyes danced over Clem’s then quickly met the reporter’s.
“I guess I had a change of heart,” he replied. “Any other questions can be addressed to my aides. Thank you all for coming.”
The crowd began to clear out, and Edward’s father approached him. Edward knew he couldn’t avoid this interaction, so he took a deep breath and prepared to defend his position.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, son.” His father’s dark eyes, ones that matched his own, bore into him. “This little pet project doesn’t exactly align with our plans for rejuvenating the kingdom.”
“It can, Father,” Edward argued. “We can have a thriving business here between the bed-and-breakfast, the museum and gift shop and even a café.”
The king pursed his lips, looking unconvinced. “It certainly makes us look good with the historical society. Maybe it will get them off our back.”
Edward nodded. “They definitely seemed to approve of the project.”
“I’ll allow it,” King Hansen said, then glanced sideways at Clementine, who was standing with her back to them, talking to members of the historical society. “But in the future, make sure you’re making decisions based on what’s best for Sovalon, regardless of the influences of a pretty woman.”
Edward bit his lip, wanting to defend Clem, to tell his father that she was more than just a pretty woman. That she had a master’s in architecture and was a smart, savvy historian. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and watched his father and brothers walk away.
When it was just him and Clementine left on the grounds, they spent over an hour walking the property, discussing ideas for improvements. When they were clearly alone, she approached him.
“Thank you.” She took his hand and heat laced up his arm. “I know it took a lot for you to stand up to your father that way.”
“I did what I thought was right,” he said.
She smiled, her cheeks pink. “I appreciate the risk you’re taking here. But I really think it’s going to be amazing.”
“I believe it will be.”
Clem inched into him until her hips were touching his. “Let’s celebrate.” She grinned coyly up at him, and his mouth watered with longing.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Follow me,” she told him, her voice husky and laced with desire.
And he did.
Clem was already unbuttoning her shirt as she walked toward the blanket she’d laid out for them on the banks of the pond before the press conference. She’d hoped he would agree to stay for an hour to have a picnic lunch with her after the meeting. She hadn’t planned on making this bold of a move, but watching Edward talk about the beauty of the old mill to the crowd of press, something stirred in her. She wanted him.