When the service is over, we stay at the front while the people of the village come by and wish us a happy Christmas. It’s a much more relaxed feel here in Didsbury, and the people feel more like friends than loyal subjects. Some of the young men even call Arthur by his first name, and later, when I asked him about it, he explains that these were his childhood friends who couldn’t have cared less what his title was, only that he could hit the wicket with the best of them during cricket matches.
I stand back and watch as Arabella chats easily with some of the women, fawning over their little children and laughing about old stories. It’s nearly two in the morning by the time we get back to the castle. Arthur and I make our way up the wide wooden staircase together, not caring to pretend we won’t be spending the night in the same room.
Something has changed tonight, and it’s not just an easing of tensions between Arabella and me. It’s so much more. They’ve let me in further into the fold, sharing some tender and vulnerable moment I never thought I would see. A warm feeling fills my chest when I return in my mind to watching them pore over the albums I made, and us laughing and tearing up over their old memories. As I drift off to sleep in Arthur’s arms, I’m filled with a sense of contentment I’ve never known before and hope never ends.
****
On Christmas morning we wake late, and when we wander downstairs, we’re treated to the scents of an amazing breakfast that has been laid out in the dining room. The Princess Dowager is already seated at the table, and Arabella is standing at the side buffet, pouring herself a coffee, and my stomach twists a little as I wonder if she’ll still have such a warm feeling toward me.
“Good morning, ladies,” Arthur says.
Arabella turns and smiles, not just at him, but at me as well—and I feel myself relax a bit. After breakfast we linger at the table, chatting and laughing, the family clearly happy to have a day without anything scheduled.
Arabella turns to me, giving me a thoughtful look. “What do you do on Christmas Day normally?”
“Well, we open presents in the morning, and then we spend the afternoon relaxing. Our big meal is on Christmas Eve, so all the cooking is done come Christmas Day and we have a fridge full of leftovers for dinner. We usually stay in our pajamas well into the afternoon and watch Christmas movies.”
Arabella’s face lights up. “That sounds delightful. I’ve always wanted to watch Miracle on 34th Street.”
“Ooh, it’s one of my favourites.”
“I think we’ve just booked our afternoon.” Arabella nods and stands. “Arthur, I’m going to steal Tessa for the next couple of hours.”
“Yes, well, just return her the way you found her.” He gives me a kiss on the cheek before I get up to go. “I’m afraid I need some time to take care of a few emails, anyway. I’ll join you later.”
And so, in a way, I get my own Christmas miracle in the form of a future sister-in-law who doesn’t despise me. We sit together on the sofa, snuggled up under big, cozy blankets, and watch the movie. When it’s over, Arabella shuts the TV off and sighs. “I hope I can find a man like that someday.”
I nod, not sure what to say.
She goes on. “I haven’t exactly had good luck with men.”
“Before I met your brother, I had a real knack for falling for the scummiest men. One of them actually cleaned out my bank account. The last one—the one who caused me to give up on men completely—ended our relationship by getting engaged to someone else after we’d been dating for close to a year. Oh, and then he fired me because he was my boss.”
Arabella’s eyes grow wide as she listens to my hard-luck history. “I had no idea. I just assumed you were the kind of girl who always had men chasing you.”
I shake my head. “What would make you think that?”
“Because you’re so pretty and outgoing. It seems to me men are attracted to women like that. They tend to find me rather aloof, I’m afraid.”
“I suppose someone in your position would have to learn to be somewhat detached, but surely once a man gets to know you, he would see you’re quite different underneath it all.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t found a man I’ve let past the wall,” she says with a sigh. “Which, as it turns out, has been a good thing, because I seem to have that same knack that you do for choosing the wrong man.”
“Well, that’s just because there are so many shitty men out there. It’s got nothing to do with you, I promise.” I smile at her.
“You sound like Arthur. He told me I’m going to have to kiss a lot of frogs. It’s not fair, really, as a prince he has women throwing themselves at him everywhere he goes. Princesses aren’t so lucky. A lot of men find the money intimidating. It seems like they want a woman who needs them in that way, which I never will. Any time I meet a nice man who I could potentially fancy, I seem to manage to scare him off.”
“Then you haven’t met the right one yet. The right one will see behind the mask; if not immediately, he’ll take the time to look beyond it.”
“Is that what happened with you and Arthur? My brother’s mask is even more well affixed than mine.”
I smile, thinking of our first few days together, the immediate attraction I felt for him in spite of wanting to despise him. “I think so. I didn’t want to fall in love with your brother. In fact, it was basically the worst thing that could’ve happened to me at the time. But once I caught a glimpse of who he really is, there was no going back.”
“That’s beautiful. I’m glad he found you.”
“Me, too.” I smile. “I mean, it’s all sort of terrifying for me. I don’t exactly fit into this world, but I’m going to keep trying because I know he’s worth it.”
“He is.” She says with a nod. Then she gets a little gleam in her eye. “And as shocking as it is, so are you.”
I laugh. “Oh, you really are Arthur’s sister.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good, because I didn’t mean it in any other way.”
Arabella turns her body toward me and curls her knees to her chest. “When did you know he was the right one for you?”
“Oh, that’s a tricky one.” I glance up at the ceiling, trying to recall the exact moment. And then it comes to me in one giant rush. “It was two weeks into our knowing each other. We went for a walk to your mother’s grave, which is a very sad place to fall in love, I suppose. He didn’t say very much about your mum, but I could feel the depth of his pain. I know this is going to sound crazy, but in an instant I knew who he was and how he had become him. The arrogance, the devil-may-care attitude, it all suddenly made sense. There was this incredible rush of feeling, like I wanted to protect him and love him and heal every one of his wounds all at once.”
Arabella’s face fills with emotion. “That’s lovely, really.”
A knock at the door interrupts, and when I turn my head, I see Arthur walking towards us. “I thought Christmas movies were supposed to have happy endings? You both look like you’re ready to cry.”
“We were talking about you,” Arabella says.
“Well, that explains it.” Arthur flops down on the couch next to me. “I’m a sorry case, aren’t I?”
I reach over and tickle his abs with my fingers until he squirms. “Very, but I’ll stick around anyway.”
SIXTEEN
Slugs, Poo, and other Impolite Dinner Conversation
Arthur
On Boxing Day, the sun shines brightly against the blue sky as we ready ourselves to return to Valcourt. By the time we set off, it seems as though like Tessa and Arabella are old friends and it feels like all is right with the world. Grandmum is staying at the castle for another few days to visit friends. Arabella elected to get a ride with us back home, and the two of them have been having a grand time swapping stories and making fun of me along the way.
Arabella takes great pleasure in sharing a story about a time when I was ten and ended up with a slug on my arse when we w
ent for a swim up in a pond just outside the village.
“I’ll never forget it, as long as I live.” Arabella laughs so hard, tears spring to her eyes. “This hideous slug pulsing away on his right butt cheek while Arthur screamed like a girl until our nanny managed to remove it with some salt.”
“Oh, please! Don’t try to pretend that you wouldn’t have lost your mind had it been you,” I say, poking Arabella on the shoulder. “Remember when you found a mouse in the stables and you got so frightened you threw up?”
I bust out laughing, and it takes me half a minute to realize I’m laughing alone. I stop and look at them. “What? Why isn’t that one funny?”
Tessa stares at me with a poker face. “It’s a mouse. That’s not funny at all.”
“Come on. It’s hilarious. She threw up right on the poor little thing.”
They both wrinkle up their noses at me and shake their heads a little. “Not funny,” Arabella says. “Not funny at all, really.”
“Yes, Arthur,” Tessa adds, “you should really practice better judgment than that if you’re going to be king someday.”
I stare at them, shocked at how quickly the mood in the limo has changed and how fickle my audience has become. Then I notice a little gleam in Arabella’s eyes, and when I glance back at Tessa, I see she’s trying to stifle a laugh. “Are you two…”
They both burst out laughing, falling all over their seats as I sit stunned. I watch them for a moment as they giggle and say things like, ‘Did you see his face just now? Hee hee.’ ‘Priceless. Oh, we got him good.’
“How is it possible that after only one day of hanging around together, I’m now on the outside, when I’m the entire reason the two of you know each other in the first place?”
Tessa shrugs. “Women are funny that way.”
Arabella nods. “Sorry, brother—this is likely how it’s going to be from now on, so you’ll just have to get used to it.”
I shake my head and mumble something about not wanting to get used to having my jewels busted on a regular basis, but inside I feel very pleased at how things have turned out.
As we near the city, Tessa sits up straight in her seat and says, “Arabella, you should come with us to my parents’ house for dinner tonight. They’ve decided to have an extra meal tonight since I was away.”
“Could I?” Arabella’s eyes light up.
Oh, Christ. That’s all I need, for Tessa’s idiot brothers to be staring down Arabella’s top while we pass the gravy. “She can only come if Bram has a girlfriend at the moment.”
“Who’s Bram?” Arabella says.
“He’s my brother.” Tessa rolls her eyes at me. “She would never be interested in him. She has far better taste than that, I can tell already.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
****
An hour later, I find myself overruled and watch my sister, who has ended up sitting next to Finn, the youngest of the Sharpe boys, who is finishing architecture school this year. The way her cheeks turn red when he addresses her causes a sense of protective rage to simmer inside me as I try to maintain a conversation with her sister-in-law, Nina, who seems intent on explaining to me at great length the horrors of breastfeeding while one is suffering from mastitis.
“Sounds just awful,” I say, trying not to look while she makes a circle with one finger around her right nipple to illustrate the extent of the infection. “I hope it goes away very soon. We should really try to find a cure for that. Maybe there’s someone at the women’s health foundation I could talk to.”
“Would you?” Nina grins at me as though I’m a hero. “Noah, did you hear that? Arthur’s going to find a cure for mastitis.”
Noah raises one eyebrow. “Is he now? Have you been to medical school, then, Arthur?”
“No, I only meant—”
Lars pipes up from down at the end of the table. “Why exactly would you bother trying to find a cure for something we already know how to treat?”
“What’s mastitis?” one of Tessa’s nephews asks from the kiddie table.
“It’s when a mum’s breasts get all gooey when she’s feeding her baby,” one of the other kids answers.
“Jesus Christ, can we not talk about breastfeeding at the table?” Ruben says.
“Why not, Dad? It’s the most natural thing in the world,” Finn says, clearly trying to impress Arabella with his open-mindedness about women’s health issues.
“That may be, but so is taking a poo, and we don’t talk about that at dinner, now do we?” Ruben says, shutting down the conversation.
“Can you pass the sausage rolls?” Bram asks. “I don’t think the lovely Princess Arabella has had a chance to try one yet.”
“I offered her one earlier, but she doesn’t like them,” Finn says, an edge in his voice.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. They’re not both after her, are they? I try to get Tessa’s attention so she can put a stop to this, but she’s engaged in a very deep conversation with her mum, who wants to hear every detail of our reaction to the photo albums Tessa made for us.
Why exactly did I want Tessa and Arabella to be on good terms?
SEVENTEEN
One-Legged Men Should Not Dance on Bar Tops
Tessa
Email from Rory Stone, Assistant to Sebastian
RE: Elocution Instruction
Tessa,
I need you to contact me immediately regarding your elocution lessons. If you have not made arrangements to have someone from the palace provide you with instruction, you will need to book a date with me right away. I have very little time, but Sebastian has grave concerns in this regard, especially now that you have decided not to cooperate as far as your body mass index goes.
Yours,
Rory
Reply to Rory Stone
RE: RE: Elocution Instruction
Dear Rory,
Thank you for your interest in my elocution lessons. Please assure Sebastian that I am receiving intensive ongoing instruction via palace staff, in addition to my own research and careful study of the subject, so there is no need for me to take up your time.
Warmest wishes,
Tessa Sharpe
****
“What are you watching, Tessa?” My dad stands at the doorway to the television room, holding a beer, clearly wanting to watch football. It’s Sunday afternoon, and I know there’s a game on by now.
“My Fair Lady. You know, the one with Audrey Hepburn.”
He seats himself on the couch next to me.
“I remember this one. I’m surprised you’d be interested in it, though.” He cracks his beer open and takes a swig.
“It’s research,” I say, jotting down a note about posture that Professor Higgins gives Eliza Doolittle.
“For what?” my dad asks as he plants himself in his armchair.
“For being a princess. I’m supposed to be taking some princess classes, but I haven’t had time, so I figured I’d cheat a little.”
“Huh.”
“My Fair Lady! Oh, why didn’t you tell me this was on?” My mum hurries in and sits next to me on the couch.
We watch in silence for about twenty minutes. “Is he worth all this?” my dad says suddenly.
My head snaps back a little, and I turn to him. “Of course he is. He’s incredible.”
“He’s just a man, like the rest of us,” my dad says.
“Ruben, he’s a prince,” my mum cries. “Worth it?! She’ll never have to even think about money again, let alone worry about it. She’ll never have dishpan hands or dirt under her fingernails.”
My dad shakes his head and stares at the telly. “Still seems to me that she’s being asked to give up a lot for all of it.”
A sense of righteous indignation comes over me. “Arthur hasn’t asked me to do any of this. He hasn’t asked me to change in any way. I’m doing this so I won’t make a complete arse of myself wherever I go.”
> “Fair enough, then,” my dad says with a small shrug. “Just don’t go and get all dull on me, okay? You’re an incredible girl. I’d hate to see those people steal your spark.”
I swallow the lump that forms at the back of my throat. “I won’t. I just want to learn enough so I can fit in with the blue bloods when I need to.”
My dad nods. “Well, in that case, I suspect you’ll need to do more than just watch this movie.”
“Of course I will. I plan to re-watch The Crown next.”
“That’ll do it.” He stands and pats me on the shoulder before he leaves the room. “Yup.”
****
I’ve been spending a lot more time at the palace since Christmas, both as Arthur and Arabella’s guest. Arabella has very kindly offered to coach me in elocution and posture and has patiently been going over the dos and don’ts of fine dining, which is a huge relief, since they don’t really give the details on The Crown.
Today I’m in Arabella’s apartment, and she’s giving me a quick lesson on greeting visiting dignitaries before Arthur and I go out for dinner. I had no idea how complicated the simple act of saying hello could be, but it turns out there is a mind-boggling set of rules about where to stand and customs to follow, which cultures are insulted by bowing, and which are insulted by a lack of bowing, who should speak first (the answer is never me), and how to respond appropriately to a wide variety of greetings. With only two months until the wedding, I’m feeling a great deal of pressure to get all this straight.
“When all else fails, say nothing and smile.” Arabella nods confidently. “You’ll be fine.”
“Have you ever seen me in public?”
Arabella laughs and pats my arm, reminding me of a young version of her grandmother. “You’ll be fine. You may have the odd mishap, but who cares? It’s endearing.”
“Tell that to the #IHateTessa people.”
“Oh, yes. I saw that. Awfully shitty, whoever they are. If only there was a way to stop them.”
The Crown Jewels Boxed Set (A Crown Jewels Romantic Comedy Series) Page 43