The Crown Jewels Boxed Set (A Crown Jewels Romantic Comedy Series)

by Melanie Summers

  I undo my seatbelt and open the door. “Agreed.”

  With that, I zig and zag my way through the vehicles, make my way to the sidewalk and sprint up the road that leads to Parliament Hill, my tie flying over my shoulder, the hot wind in my hair, the nerves in my gut tying themselves in knots.

  There’s absolutely no logic to what I’m doing, or to the fact that I feel that if I don’t get there before the press conference ends, it’ll somehow be too late. But I do. And I can’t let that happen, because if it’s too late with her, I’ll never be happy again a day in my life.

  My mind races as fast as my legs. What do I say when I see her? God, I didn’t think this through. You complete me? No. Overused. You’re tough enough to be my queen? Horrid. Shit. What the fuck do I say?

  I turn and sprint up the long lawn that leads to the parliament buildings. The reporters are packing up, and I spot her in the parking lot, getting into the Citroën from the video. “Tessa!” I call, but she doesn’t hear me. She gets in, and before I can make it to her, she’s gone.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Truly, Madly, Completely

  Tessa

  “Oh, my God. I’m such an idiot!” I hide my face in my hands.

  “Stop that. You were the only one in the entire country to even think of asking him about why he hasn’t put forth that bill. You’re brilliant.” Nikki pulls out onto the road and turns toward home. “Look at all the cars going to Krispy Kreme. I wonder how long it would take for us to get a box of donuts?”

  “Quit trying to distract me. I’m busy being a loser.” I turn to her and lean my head against the seat rest. “Ipso facto?”

  “Easy mistake. Anyone could make that mistake.” She cranes her neck to the right. “How long will it take before the line-up dies down?”

  “Months. It took, like, six months for the lines to die down in Scotland.” I sigh, glad that we’re heading in the opposite direction of the throngs of vehicles. “But seriously, why do I always have to be the one to publicly humiliate myself?”

  “Because you’re brave enough to put yourself out there. Most people are total wimps, but your desire to do the right thing is stronger than your desire to not look like a total arse. That’s what makes you so great.”

  “No, that’s what makes me a total arse.”

  “Most people see the wrong in the world and they do nothing about it, Tess. Nothing. You have courage, and you’re tough as gel nails. You didn’t shrink in front of that rat bastard when most people would. You’re kind of my hero.”

  “Thanks.” I blink back tears.

  My cell buzzes in my purse. I reach down and pick it up, seeing two texts.

  Awesome.

  Text from Bram: Ipso facto? Oh, Christ, you certainly know how to keep the country entertained.

  Text from Lars: Good God, how is it that we are we related? Nice try, though. I could see where you were going with that. Nina was thrilled that you tried to help the Royal Family.

  The ringer sounds, and my mum’s face appears on the screen. I groan and answer. “Hi, Mum.”

  “Tessa!” she shouts into the phone. “We watched your news conference. Well done, you! Although, I do think you really should stick to writing, my darling. It just goes better for you when you have time to check all your words over.”

  “Thanks, Mum. I have to go. I’m just with Nikki. She’s…driving, and I don’t want to distract her.”

  “Oh! You’re with her. Perfect. Then you don’t need to take the bus to get home.”

  “I’m not on my way home, actually.”

  “Of course you are, Twinkle. Remember? It’s a school holiday, and you said you’d help Dad watch the grandkids while I go to get my hair coloured. Bring Nikki. We haven’t seen her in ages.”

  Grrr. “I’ll see if she can drive me.” I ring off and toss my phone back in my purse.

  “You need a ride so you can go help your dad babysit?”

  “You heard all that?”

  “How could I not?” she asks. “Do you want me to take you there, or do you need an excuse? I could run out of gas if you like.”

  “No, I should go. I’ve promised myself I’m going to stop avoiding things I don’t want to deal with, remember?”

  “The new, improved Tessa?”

  “Exactly.” I groan. “Not that it won’t be just dreadful when my brothers arrive to pick up the kids. You’re invited, by the way.”

  “Do you think your mum’ll have made a batch of lemon custard tarts?”

  ***

  Twelve minutes. That’s how long it takes to get from downtown Valcourt to Abbott Lane in a car driven by Danica Patrick, a.k.a. Nikki, when lemon custard tarts are waiting. Not exactly a nice man in a hybrid with heated leather seats, but it was fast, my clothes are mud-free, and it’s really hot out today, so I don’t actually need my tush warmed for me. Take what you can get, right?

  When we pull up, my dad is in the front garden with the kids, most of whom are drawing on the sidewalk with chalk while the twins are racing down the sidewalk on the scooters Arthur bought them, which honestly guts me, even though I tell myself it doesn’t. My dad is sipping beer and admiring his peonies that are in full bloom.

  He turns, looking delighted to see me as I unfold myself from the tiny car. “There’s my girl. Well done, you.”

  He reaches out and gives me a huge bear hug, and I laugh, feeling like a little kid, just like I always do when he hugs me. It’s kind of nice to be home, even if my brothers will take the piss out of me when they get here. Fuck ‘em. “Thanks, Dad.”

  The screeching of tires down the road interrupts the moment. A black SUV with red and yellow flags comes barreling down the street.

  “Slow down, you wanker!” my dad shouts, letting go of me and stepping off the curb with his hand out.

  The car comes to a quick halt. “Oh, bugger. Dad, I think that’s the Royal Family.”

  “I don’t give a dead rat’s arse who it is. I’m not going to stand here and watch them hit one of my grandkids.” The kids are safely on the sidewalk, mind you, and now they’re snickering and repeating the phrase ‘dead rat’s arse.’ He’s going to hear about that later.

  The back door swings open, and Arthur gets out. He glances at my father. “Sorry about that, sir. We’ve been chasing your daughter all the way from Parliament Hill.”

  He looks at Nikki. “You’re very fast.”

  She gives him a come-hither look. “I certainly am.”

  I clear my throat, and she jumps a little. “Sorry, that was purely reflex. Won’t happen again,” she murmurs.

  Then Arthur’s eyes land on me. I fix him with a look of steel. “Shouldn’t you be out campaigning?”

  “I should be.” He takes two steps toward me. “But the thing is, I don’t give a good Goddamn if we win or lose.” He glances at the children, who are giggling. “Sorry, kids, you should never swear. Not very regal behaviour.”

  He turns back to me and swallows, his face filled with worry. “I’ve come to the realization that none of it matters if I won’t have you by my side for the next sixty years or so.”

  “Nope. You do not get to say that. What we had wasn’t real. It was all just a bunch of lies. Sipping wine at sunset, and the Jelly Babies! And…and the world is spinning too fast thing? Yeah, you probably thought I wouldn’t have figured that out, but I’ve spent the past few weeks going over every conversation we had and comparing it to my old dating profile, so I know exactly which parts were bullshit! Sorry, kids!”

  “All right, you got me. At the beginning, I did use ill-gotten information to try to persuade you to like me. But I stopped as soon as I really got to see the woman underneath this tough-girl mask you wear all the time.”

  “Just stop. I can’t, Arthur. It’s over, and we both have to accept that.”

  “No, we bloody well don’t. We may have started out on the wrong foot, and we may have taken too long to trust each othe
r, but what we felt for each other was real. Very real. More real than anything I’ve felt in my life.”

  I shake my head and shut my eyes tightly so I don’t have to look at his gorgeous face. “You were using me, and I was using you, and even if we weren’t, we still can’t be together because I’ll just ruin you.”

  “Bollocks. You’re the only one who can save me.”

  “Didn’t you see me at the press conference? I was a disaster. I’m always a disaster. I’m not the right woman for you.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.”

  Another vehicle rounds the corner. This time, it’s a fast-approaching news van. I watch in shock as my father steps out into the middle of the road and holds his arms out to stop them. What the hell is going on today?

  Giles Bigly jumps out, along with a cameraman. Ollie positions himself next to my father and holds up his hands as well. “Please keep a respectful distance. This is a private matter.”

  The man hurries over to the sidewalk and aims the camera at us but doesn’t dare step past Ollie.

  “This is why.” I point to the news crew. “I’m not cut out for any of it. You need to marry someone sophisticated and accomplished and…and regal. Not someone who’s likely to step in horseshit getting out of the carriage and come reeking down the aisle at the Abbey.”

  His face grows serious as he closes the distance between us. “No, you’re probably right. It would probably be an unmitigated disaster. Comedic fodder for talk shows for years to come.”

  I give him a big nod, trying to ignore how my heart has just sunk to my feet. “Exactly. Now, I appreciate the whole romantic chasing me through town—very flattering—but I think we both know we should just say goodbye now so we can each start the lives we’re meant to lead.”

  “Nope.”

  “Nope?” I purse my lips together.

  “You heard me. Nope. I chased you through town for a reason. The life I’m meant to lead is with you. Crown or no crown. You’re my purpose, Tessa.”

  My eyes fill with tears. “Oh, bugger. You’re not going to make it very easy to walk away, are you?”

  Arthur smiles, his face full of emotion. “In case you couldn’t tell, I’m trying to make it impossible for you to walk away.” He reaches up and holds my cheeks in his hands. The feeling of his skin on mine cracks open my hardened heart, spilling molten lava of love all through my body. I know it’s cheesy, but it’s true.

  He smiles down at me. “Because, the thing is, if I’m going to marry anyone, it’s going to be you, broken, horseshit-covered heels and all. There’s no other woman on this planet I want to watch limping her way up the aisle toward me. I never thought I’d find someone I would love—truly, madly, completely like this—but I did. I found you. And you’re the only woman who can keep me from turning into a completely arrogant disaster. I need you, Tessa. And I don’t need anyone. More than that, I love you with every beat of my foolish heart. And if all of that doesn’t convince you, you need to know I have a cupboard filled with bags of crisps back at the palace.”

  I laugh through my tears and reach up and put my hands over his. “You really should have led with that.”

  “Would that have saved me some time in getting to kiss you again?” He grins and lowers his mouth over mine.

  “Definitely.”

  “Damn.” He closes the distance between our mouths and kisses me deeply, waking every ounce of hope, and love, and lust that I tried to bury away. He wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up off my feet, our lips staying locked together through the jeers and cheers of my nieces and nephews, through the loud throat clearing of my father, through Ollie firmly reminding us there are cameras filming us, through Nikki telling him to mind his own damn business.

  None of that matters, because it’s really just Arthur and me now.

  And, with any luck, forever…

  FORTY

  Poll-Predicting Betta Fish

  Arthur

  It’s late on Friday night. The past thirty hours have been both the most terrifying and wonderful of my life. Case in point, the press conference I held last night to make a final plea on behalf of my family. Terrifying, but also wonderful because Tessa stood next to me, holding my hand through the entire thing, and the press loved it. They got all caught up in asking questions about our relationship and seemed to forget about the vote—for a few minutes, anyway. Wonderful when Tessa realized I was the one who put a grinding halt to the lawsuit from those horrid Shock Jogger people. She was really, really, really grateful, if you get my drift. Especially since she found out how I settled the case. Instead of paying them out, I’ve agreed to shoot a video for them, testing out the product myself. But don’t worry about me. I’m a seasoned runner, and I’m sure I’ll manage without getting zapped.

  And now it’s just the two of us snuggled up on the couch in my room, watching the polls come in (well, actually four, if you count Dex and Chester). My grandmother sat with us for the first four hours, then went to bed after saying she had no doubt in her mind that we’d win. After all, we’ve given the people the very real possibility of a royal wedding, and there is nothing more irresistible.

  Arabella has flown to Turkey with some friends to go to a spa and have her nails done rather than sit around chewing them off like the rest of us. My father has gone to our castle on the north shore, but don’t feel bad for him. He’s not-so-alone. Dexter is curled up on the other side of Tessa with his snout on her lap, staring up at her.

  “Look at him, he’s an absolutely smitten pig,” I say.

  She gives me a wicked grin. “Just like his owner.”

  I laugh and kiss her hard on the mouth, grateful she’s here during what would have been, without a doubt, the most stressful night of my life. If it weren’t for her, I’d be stinking drunk by now. But she’s here, and I’m not, because win or lose, I’ll have a reason to go on. The polls are far too close for me to feel at all relaxed, though. We’re up by less than two percent, but the western province still hasn’t completed their count. The experts on ABNC are predicting a win for us, but unless they have time machines, I’m not going to trust that they know any more than Chester the betta fish, who is fast asleep on his ridiculous little fish hammock. Chester has decided to move in with me, since he doesn’t like Finn’s stinky bedroom, and Tessa will be spending much of her time here anyway. She can’t officially move in, not without creating quite the scandal, which, for the moment, we would like to avoid.

  Veronica Platt wraps up an interview with one of the polling experts, then footage of me and Tessa reuniting comes onto the screen, again. “Aww, look, pumpkin,” I say, and I don’t even hate myself for saying it. “There we are declaring our love for each other.”

  “It’s right there on the national news. This is going to be quite the life, isn’t it?” she asks, shaking her head a little.

  “Yes, but I have no doubt you can handle it.” I kiss her on the forehead. “Thank God your parents raised you with four horrible brothers.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  An hour later, we hurry to my grandmother’s room and knock gently on the door. When she doesn’t answer, I open it and we walk in and are greeted by the sound of her snoring.

  “Maybe we should just let her sleep,” Tessa whispers.

  I shake my head. “No, she’ll want to know.”

  “Know what?” she croaks.

  I walk over to her bed and hold a glass of champagne out to her. “That we won!”

  She opens one eye. “Your girlfriend was right. Not worth waking me for.” Rolling over onto her side, she says, “You’ll really need to trust her judgement if you’re going to be king someday. She’s much smarter than you.”

  EPILOGUE

  Auto-tune the Prince

  Arthur

  “Oh, darling, it’s not that bad.” Tessa kisses me on the cheek as the video plays on her parents’ telly. Isa has cleared the room of ch
ildren by sending them out to the garden with popsicles and is happily getting her revenge on me for the whole ‘come out, little baby’ mistake.

  I watch from the back of the room with my arms folded across my chest. Finn grins back at me every few seconds, proud to be the first to show the family the auto-tuned version of the damn video.

  On the screen, my entire body folds up on itself and I shout, “Fuckity-Fucking Hell!”

  I glance at Tessa’s mum, who is the only one not laughing. “It’s not funny at all, is it?”

  “Thank you, Evi. Glad somebody gets it.” Even Tessa’s laughing so hard, she’s crying. But she, at least, has the sense to apologize between bouts of giggles.

  “It was rather painful, actually. I feel like I should sue them.”

  The Shock Jogger people wanted to shoot the video live, going for massive exposure over the safety of being able to splice out any problems. No wonder Wellbits is going under. “Until that moment right there,” I point to the screen, “I couldn’t for the life of me figure out that whole, ‘not my hair’ business.”

  Tessa stops laughing and turns to me. “Feels like it’ll all fall out, right?”

  “Exactly.” I smile down at her, glad to have her to commiserate with. “I once read about a woman who got shocked so hard, all her hair fell out.”

  “Weekly World News?” she asks, setting her attention on the screen again.

  “Probably fake, right?”

  “Probably.”

  “Although they were right about that man who had a baby...”

  When the video ends, Tessa turns to me, clearly holding in another bout of laughter. “My knight in shining armor.”

  “Oh, stop it.”

  She wraps her arms around me. “No, you are. You did that to save me.”

  “And you’d think you would be a little more sympathetic to me for that very reason.”