Chapter 5

Five

Jonathon's first morning as his old self was off to a dubious start. He had awoken to the smell of bacon and was treated to the sight of a happy, normal couple teasing each other as they enjoyed breakfast in their pajamas. It was both encouraging to know that real, healthy love existed, but also very tiring.

Good for them for finding true love and living happily ever after, Jonathon supposed. Did they have to do it right in front of his French toast? His life was in flames and Jonathon was grieving. He had dreamt of happy weekend mornings with Leo, making out and feeding each other breakfast, but it was looking more and more likely that he'd die alone. And childless, thank goodness.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Riley pulled himself away from Giles's eyes and adoring smiles, wincing at Jonathon. "Just a heads up: Luna's on her way back. Her uncles are dropping her off so you might want to hide while Penn and Morris are here."

"We'll explain everything to Luna and she'll be cool. She's scared of your aunt too," Giles said.

Jonathon hid his panic by humming into his mug as he drank. "Right. You have the other…littler one." He looked around, surprised at the orderliness of 8B. "I was wondering where you kept her."

"Kept her?" Giles asked with a concerned furrow to his brow.

"Well…" Jonathon rolled a hand vaguely. "I was mostly kept in the nursery until Aunt Muriel sent for me. I occasionally went to the park or the library if I had a nanny, but my parents couldn't always afford one so I usually just stayed in the nursery. I thought you might have one somewhere here," he explained and Riley looked ill as he reached for Jonathon.

"What you're describing is neglect, Jonathon," he said sadly. "I'm so sorry."

"It does seem like it, when I look back…" Jonathon admitted slowly. "But I was a rather solitary child and I had a vivid imagination so I found ways to pass the time. I loved to read and I watched old TV shows and movies when I couldn't sleep."

Giles nodded in understanding. "My parents had no interest in me either, and I never minded because I wanted to be left alone. It helps if you have terrible parents."

"I never missed mine," Jonathon agreed. "I was scared when Muriel sent for me. But she let me have the run of the place as long as I stayed out of Tilly's way and didn't disturb Muriel when she was napping."

"That's…better," Riley said with a grimace. "Luna has her own room but we don't keep her in there. We like having her with us and she's an active six-year-old, so she might follow you for a while and ask a lot of questions."

"She has manners, though. Better than one of her fathers," Giles reassured Jonathon and raised his hand. "She'll give you space if you need it. She…understands, she's already so wise," he said.

Riley made a dreamy sound as he stared up at Giles. "He won't admit it, but Giles is counting the minutes until his sidekick comes home. They're inseparable when she's here and Luna is very protective of her dad and brother,"

"I look forward to meeting her, then," Jonathon said and found that he was, even though he was extremely nervous about having to converse with and impress a child. "Do you think she'll like me?"

"Of course! I could use another cup of coffee," Riley said, excusing himself. "What about you?" he asked Jonathon.

He slid his cup across the island. "Please."

"I'm not sure if we're supposed to say anything about it, but I like what you've done with your hair," Giles said carefully, notching his chin at Jonathon and Riley gasped.

"I wasn't either but I love it!" he said as he poured. He winced at Giles, then at Jonathon. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to know or if it would upset you, but the Margrave's people were here."

"Oh?" Jonathon's hand shook, causing the cup to rattle in its saucer as he drank. "That was fast."

"I saw the guy in charge and he's huge ," Riley said in a hushed whisper.

"Huge?" Giles asked, his brow furrowing even deeper as Riley nodded.

"I ran out for a bagel and fresh berries for our waffles and there was this giant Austrian—I assume he was Austrian, he spoke German—talking on the phone and giving orders to a bunch of Austrian minions—I assume they were Austrian, they spoke German too—who were questioning the doormen and the neighbors."

"Why?" Jonathon asked, horrified as he glanced between Giles and Riley, but they just shrugged and shook their heads.

"The Margrave really wants to find you," Riley guessed with a sheepish grimace.

Jonathon let out a petulant huff. "He should have started looking ten years ago."

"I heard one of them say that your aunt is refusing to cooperate," Riley told Jonathon, grinning. "Says she's not talking to von Hessen until she's heard from you."

Giles whistled and shook his head. "I did not see that coming. I was sure she'd sell you out," he said and Jonathon's lips twisted as he considered.

"She has always been loyal, but I wasn't sure if she would forgive me for this one. I don't think she imagined I'd actually catch a margrave and then, to make that kind of a scene…"

Riley hummed in approval. "I'm changing my mind about your aunt. She has that giant and a prince in check."

"Well, that's a relief," Jonathon laughed. "I suppose I should have given Muriel more credit, she's always had uncanny instincts," Jonathon said, making Giles cough.

"Are you referring to the same Muriel who thought we would be a good match? The same woman who called the fire department and the mayor last Easter to shut down the egg hunt in the courtyard?"

Jonathon nodded. "She was desperate, in our case, and she abhors plastic, pastel-colored eggs. Says there's nothing tackier. And she's terrified of rabbits—particularly rabbits in trousers."

"What…?" Riley's mouth opened and closed several times and Jonathon just shrugged.

"Muriel likes to keep her secrets and has always been a mystery," he said simply, then tuned them out while they took guesses as to what Easter-related trauma could cause such a baffling phobia.

Jonathon knew better than to assume she was being irrational because Muriel usually had her reasons. Her mind had been honed by decades of reading everything from Homer to Dostoyevsky to King, but she was particularly fond of mysteries and romances. So was Jonathon and the two often traded book reviews and gossip as they took their late morning walks in the park or around the garden.

Jonathon laughed to himself as he recalled her theory about Herr Weber, the butler at Sch?nbühel. At the time, he had thought she was bored and her imagination was getting away from her as she cast wary glances over her shoulder at the house and told him to "act natural."

"How else would I act?" Jonathon had asked, looking to see if anyone was even on the terraces or if there were groundskeepers around but they were alone. The garden was frosted over and a thin dusting of snow from the evening prior made soft crunching sounds as they walked.

She smacked his chest with a gloved hand. "Stop it. You'll make him suspicious."

"Who?"

"Herr Weber," she said out of the side of her mouth.

"The butler?" he confirmed, earning a hard scoff from Muriel.

"Mark my words: that man is not real."

Jonathon laughed, shaking his head. "What are you talking about? Of course, he's real."

"Ha!" She stabbed at the gravel with her cane. "That man is not a real butler. I could tell he was a fraud the moment he opened the door before he even opened his mouth."

"How can someone be a fake butler? He is literally employed as a butler, Muriel."

She pulled a face and mumbled a prayer for patience. "He may currently hold the position, but I assure you it is the first time he has ever been employed as such. You or von Hessen wouldn't notice, but Sabine surely must have. She's far too concerned with the future Margrave to give it any thought, though."

"What is there to notice and why wouldn't von Hessen see it if Sabine does?" Jonathon asked and Muriel's eyes and smile took on a wicked gleam as she hugged his arm, pulling him closer. Jonathon leaned in, eager to learn more about the dashing margrave and his enigmatic assistant. "Tell me," he whispered impatiently.

"Her family is old and their money is even older. They've been in European trade and shipping and have held a great deal of influence here since this country was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Sabine was raised in houses like this and has spent her whole life around servants."

"Wow." Jonathon nodded, impressed. "I see why she was chosen to be von Hessen's assistant."

That got a snort out of Muriel. "I dare say she was chosen by the Foundation to be a great deal more, but we know von Hessen isn't interested."

"No, he isn't," Jonathon agreed, biting down on a grin.

She hummed suggestively. "It's a shame you aren't a touch older, Jonathon. I've heard the Margrave is a bisexual."

Jonathon huffed dismissively, hoping she wouldn't notice him blushing. "I doubt I'm von Hessen's type. He wasn't raised in houses like this with servants?" He was eager to change the subject and learn more. "I thought the von Hessens were an even older and wealthier family."

Muriel gave him a pointed look. "They are, but this particular von Hessen was raised primarily in the country and comes from rather…modest stock."

"What do you mean?" Jonathon whispered excitedly.

"There was a falling out." She cleared her throat suggestively. "Something to do with Leopold's father. He married an Italian and her family was rather common. From Umbria, if I remember correctly. That might have been the reason…" Her eyes narrowed as she stared past the fountain, then shrugged. "It was ages ago, but they weren't heard from or seen in society until Max von Hessen chose Leopold to be his successor."

"So the new Margrave wouldn't have been raised with servants. He acts like he's used to being in command," Jonathon noted and she hummed in agreement.

"I suspect it's because he's been the head of that family for some time now, and I heard he was always a quiet, serious child. The only one of the bunch, it seems. The youngest is said to be a hell-raiser and it sounds like the other two are making a name for themselves."

"How unfortunate for Mr. von Hessen," Jonathon murmured as he recalled the Margrave's concerns about his youngest brother, but Muriel made a pfft! sound and waved it off.

"Everything's coming up roses for the von Hessens these days. Max got his divorce and he's going off to be an American, and Leo and his brothers will be the new Princes of Hessen. I'm rather pleased with how it's turned out and I hope the old margraves are rolling over in their…" Her eyes flared behind her glasses as she beamed at him. "Graves," she whispered, causing Jonathon to erupt in a snorting giggle.

"That's awful," he scolded. "I thought the late Margrave was a friend of yours."

"God, what a miserable man," Muriel muttered. "But most of the people we knew were miserable. Our fathers were in business together and Daddy wanted me to be an archduchess, but von Hessen laughed at him because we were American and British. I knew Maximilian's mother—we went to school together and I was invited to the wedding. She was miserable too," she added with a sad sigh.

"Oh. Why?" That surprised Jonathon. He couldn't imagine being miserable about being an archduchess, especially if you were married to a man like Maximilian or Leopold von Hessen.

Muriel shook her head. "The archduchesses usually are. I can't tell you if it's the House of Hessen—if that line is cursed—or if the men make terrible husbands and fathers, or if it's the Foundation."

"What is the Foundation?" Jonathon asked. "I've heard them mention it a hundred times," he said, hitching his chin at the house.

Muriel let out another heavier sigh. "There is the House of Hessen family, and there is the Foundation of the House of Hessen. Maximilian, his archduchess, his daughters, Leopold, and his three brothers are all that survive of the family and are only margraves in name. Austria did away with its monarchy before the wars and the von Hessens went to America in protest of the Nazis. The Foundation was established when they returned and oversees and controls nearly everythingthese days and Maximilian and Leopold are merely the mascots."

"So much for the fairy tale," Jonathon said sadly but Muriel scoffed.

"There are far worse things than being an honorary prince," she replied, waving her cane around them. "This is Max's idea of a starter castle. The new Margrave will inherit several properties and a fortune after the assumption ceremony. Not that he was a pauper before. You know how it is when nobles are poor. They simply stop traveling and hosting parties and they don't pay their bills until someone else dies and bails them out."

"Or gets a divorce," Jonathon observed.

"Indeed. Things might have been dire in Leopold's case. He had three brothers to support and put through school with whatever his parents left him," she conceded, then gave Jonathon a nudge. "He's been to university."

"Leopold? I believe he went to Oxford and has a DPhil, even," he recalled and she gasped, exasperated.

"Not Leopold! Herr Weber," she told him in a hushed whisper, watching the house. Baffled, Jonathon squinted at her, waiting for an explanation. "I know because I heard Weber tell a delivery man that he had a Greek professor from Athens, after commenting on the man's accent."

"So? Butlers can't go to college?" Jonathon challenged.

Muriel nodded quickly at him. "Of course, they can. The best ones go to the Butler Academy and get degrees in polishing silver and setting tables," she said, then rolled her eyes. "A butler in a house like this grew up in service. He would have started when he was sixteen or seventeen, at the very bottom and worked his way up. He wouldn't have time for college, but if he did, I'd bet my fortune, he wasn't studying Greek."

"Probably not," Jonathon agreed.

"No. Most people learn Greek or Latin so they can study the classics and major in something like philosophy or theology," she continued with a thoughtful humph. "It's a smart place to hide, isn't it? The castle's uninhabited ten months out of the year and half of the staff is seasonal."

Jonathon groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, debating if it was worth trying to stop her. "You can't be serious, Muriel. Herr Weber has done nothing but mind his business and do his job."

She nodded. "That's a good place to start. I'll look into his references and see where else he's worked."

"That's not what I meant and I really don't think you should be harassing the man just because he knows Greek."

"I can't imagine anything more preposterous."

"Than a butler who knows Greek?" Jonathon verified and she nodded.

"I certainly wouldn't hire him, not for a house like this and for the next Margrave," she replied with a testy swat. "A new butler might do for a cruise ship or a mid-range hotel, but this is bordering on scandal," she warned and clicked her teeth. "What if he is a criminal or was sent to spy on von Hessen?"

Jonathon reared back, frowning at her and then the house. "Because he studied Greek? You know, you won't be invited back if you start interrogating the staff and making wild accusations."

She made a dismissive sound. "You'll see: he doesn't have the pedigree to run a house like this. I smell a fraud, Jonathon, and I will get to the bottom of this."

He winced at her, worrying. "Just make sure you don't end up at the bottom of the Danube. Herr Weber won't like you casting aspersions, even if he is what he seems."

"If that is the case, you can tell everyone I'm senile and that I make up stories when I'm confused."

"I do that anyways," he whispered, making her cackle.

"We have our stories straight if there's trouble," she said and he nodded, then held up a finger.

"You might consider raising my allowance while we're overseas, in case I need to bail you out and it's too late in America to call your attorneys."

"Good thinking, I'll talk to my accountant after this."

Jonathon escorted Muriel to the music room and left via the terrace doors, intending to cut through the garden and kill a little time in the conservatory. He quickly forgot about Herr Weber, too consumed with all he had learned about the von Hessens, the new margrave, and Sabine. His shortcut took him around the study and the library so Jonathon jogged up the terrace steps and whistled casually as he passed their doors, but didn't see anyone inside.

He came around the corner and stopped when he spotted an odd little ladder just over one of the study windows, hidden by a trellis and obscured by rose vines. It went to a square-ish door and Jonathon's brow arched curiously.

"Where does that go?"

He did a quick check to make sure no one was around and watching. The gardens, terraces, and balconies were all clear so he dashed to the wall and behind the hedge for a closer look. The bottom rung was too high for him to reach, even on his tiptoes so he gave the rose trellis a hard tug to see if it was secure.

Jonathon whistled the "Raiders March" from Indiana Jones as he wedged the toe of his sneaker in the trellis and pushed off, reaching for the bottom rung. It took a few attempts but he was eventually able to grab it and pull himself up to the second.

His arms were shaking and his hands were sweating but he had almost managed to get his foot on the bottom rung when a hand locked around his ankle.

"Ack!" he yelped and hooked both arms around the ladder before he dropped, his legs dangling and kicking wildly.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The sharp growl was the only warning Jonathon had before large hands gripped his waist and he was easily plucked from the ladder. "Hey!" he complained as he was turned and deposited on the terrace. Jonathon opened his mouth to object to being manhandled, but lost his breath as the Margrave loomed over him, panting and glaring.

"You may use any door you please, Mr. Hawthorne. There is no need to scale the castle like a cat burglar." The words feathered across Jonathon's lips, tea-and-mint-flavored huffs that had him leaning in and licking his own lips as he became curiously thirsty.

"Right! I…" he started, nodding quickly. "I've never been able to resist a strange ladder or a door in a place like this. We live in the Olympia—you might have heard of it, it's kind of famous—and it's got all these hidden doors and secret stairs that go nowhere," he explained in a babbling rush. "I used to explore when I was bored and old habits, I guess." Jonathon laughed nervously. Despite Leo's serious, scowl-prone demeanor, he was unbearably gorgeous and Jonathon liked being the cause of this particular scowl.

"I'm sorry you find Sch?nbühel so boring," Leo said, his head lowering until his nose brushed Jonathon's.

"I'm not bored," Jonathon whispered, tipping his chin back. He crossed his fingers, praying he wasn't dreaming and they weren't under a spell that was about to break. "Not bored."

"Good." The low rumble made Jonathon's tummy flip and he was dizzy, enthralled by the smell of Leo's breath, his aftershave, and his cologne. And he was so warm, blocking out the damp, blustery breeze as it whipped around the side of the castle. "I'm sure we can find better and safer ways to entertain you," he said pointedly. "How will you paint if you break an arm or your neck?"

Jonathon wasn't worried about his neck at the moment. "Was that an offer, sir?" he asked, then bit his lip as his nerves fizzed wildly.

Leo blinked down at him. "An offer?" he asked dazedly, his gaze had settled on Jonathon's lips, making them tingle and they felt dry.

He licked them and nodded faintly. "Are you going to entertain me…sir?" Jonathon asked and inwardly shrieked at the audacity of flirting with a prince outside of his own castle. An actual prince. A dashing, older, soon-to-be absurdly wealthy, chivalrous, right-out-of-a-fairytale Prince Charming.

"I…" Leo's jaw fell and his eyelashes fluttered. He gave his head a shake, a rash creeping up from beneath his collar. It took several attempts to clear his throat. "That would not be safe," he finally managed. "Please use a normal door and refrain from climbing the exterior of the building while you're here, Mr. Hawthorne," Leo said with a curt nod, then left Jonathon staring at the exterior of the castle.

"Um…" he turned in a circle, unsure if he should run to Muriel and tell her everything or continue on to the conservatory to panic in private.

He chose to panic in private, pacing by the roses as he debated what their almost kiss meant and what his next move should be. That had been an almost kiss, Jonathon was sure of it. And while he had no idea where he had found the nerve, Jonathon hadn't been bluffing when he'd flirted with Leo. He was also fairly sure that Leo understood what Jonathon had been suggesting and had considered it.

Telling Muriel was the quickest way to kill any possibility of something happening with the Margrave. She would scare him off by assuming he had more than casual intentions and playing matchmaker or she'd be absurdly old-fashioned and demand that Leo date Jonathon in earnest. She wouldn't be able to resist. Dating the future Margrave of Hessen would make Jonathon incredibly popular in London and New York.

High society was Muriel's purview and obsession, and while Jonathon appreciated her support and the comfort that came with being her companion, he had hoped to support himself as an artist and live quietly somewhere other than New York City or London. Too many of the people who mattered to Muriel, and just plain mattered, knew who Jonathon's parents were. And the general assumption was that he was a selfish grifter like them. Traveling with Muriel and allowing her to provide for him after he turned eighteen hadn't helped, or the fact that Jonathon was an artist. But he would show them by making something of himself and never looking back.

"God, I was so naive," he said, snickering at himself as Sch?nbühel faded. He returned to the Ashby's kitchen and caught the tail end of their Easter debate.

It seemed that Giles had conceded that rabbits in human clothes could be disturbing and that giant animals in general were horror fodder.

Jonathan nodded in agreement. "I told you, Muriel's not that eccentric. She's sharper than people think."

In hindsight, Jonathon should have confided in Muriel. She might have reined matters—and Jonathon—in before they got out of hand, or she might have helped Jonathon prepare for the wild turn his life was about to take and navigate the heartbreak that had followed. She understood men like Leo and the world they inhabited far better than Jonathon ever could.

Most importantly, she would have protected Jonathon. She wouldn't have allowed Leo to cast him aside and ignore him the way he had. Jonathon hadn't wanted to embarrass Leo or cause him trouble at the time. Now, Jonathon no longer gave a damn about Leo's reputation and would have preferred to have some closure.

"We should all listen to Muriel more," he told them. "In fact, I intend to consult her before making any decisions from now on."