Then Harold was there, muscling through the crowd, pushing reporters out of the way. I spotted Sophie’s face—furious and worried at the same time—as she shoved photographers back. She caught Harold’s arm and murmured into his ear. I wondered if she was directing him to take me back to the Palace or to call for back up security.
I recognized some of the reporters whose faces were pressed up against the glass windows of the car, but others were new to me. They held out their enormous cameras and clicked madly, not worrying about what they were capturing. They all wanted the quintessential photo of Kyra Duncan, soon to be royal, cowering in the backseat.
And suddenly, the fear vanished and was replaced by a healthy dose of mad. I reached for the handle and opened the door, throwing my weight against it to make room for me to emerge. Harold and Sophie had cleared enough of a path that I managed to swing the door open wide and even remembered to keep my knees together as I got out of the car.
“Kyra! What do you say about the accusations that you’re getting too political?”
“Kyra, is it true you want to eliminate all traditional farms? Do you plan to meet with the secretary of DEFRA to discuss your ideas and concerns?”
“Was the Queen angry with you, Kyra? Did you get a good ticking off?”
I wished I could turn around and answer them all: No, I wasn’t trying to be political. No, I didn’t want to eliminate anyone’s farms, let alone family businesses. I had no plans to meet with any secretary of anything, unless it was in my role at Honey Bee Juices. And as for whether Her Majesty was angry with me, well, that was anyone’s guess. The closest I’d gotten to punishment was the smack on the bottom from Nicky this morning, and that was far from being a deterrent.
“Please! Make way for Ms. Duncan, she’s just trying to get to work.” Sophie walked a little way in front of me, her arms out to either side. “Come on now, be reasonable. You all know she has no comment. Just get out of the way.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Garrett Smith, resplendent in his long hair and multiple tattoos, standing at the back of the throng. He was watching Sophie fight for space, a frown between his eyes. I wondered if he was second-guessing the interview and article now that his girlfriend was on the front lines, dealing with the aftermath.
It seemed as though it took me hours to get into the building, but once I made it, the silence compared to the cacophony outside was lovely. I stood for a moment, my eyes closed as I sucked in deep breaths.
“Kyra, are you all right?” Sophie touched my arm. “That was brutal. I’m so sorry. I feel as though this whole mess is my fault. I never thought—well, I should have anticipated this kind of backlash. But I didn’t, and you’re the one bearing the brunt of it.”
“Don’t blame yourself. I’m a big girl, and I’m the one who made the decision to do the interview.” I managed a smile. “And yes, I’m fine. I don’t necessarily want to go through something like that again, though. I hope something else happens and they all lose interest in me.”
“They will,” Sophie promised. “Someone else will do something that’s truly outrageous, and you’ll be old news. This isn’t that big a story, in the long run. Just let it run its course, and then everything will go back to normal.”
To my shock, Sophie’s prediction turned out to be eerily accurate.
I’d just finished lunch at my desk when my telephone rang. I saw that it was Nicky on the other end, and I assumed he was calling to check on me. Smiling, I answered.
“Never fear, I’m alive. I survived.”
“Good.” He sounded stressed, his voice strained. “Others of us might not be so lucky.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s Daisy.” Nicky’s words were clipped. “She didn’t show up for our visit to the school today. As it turned out . . . she eloped.”
My mouth dropped open. “She what?”
Nicky let out a long breath. “She eloped. Ran away to Gretna Green. She outmaneuvered her police protection and ran off with . . . well, we’re not entirely clear on who she married, my adorable baby sister.”
“Oh, my God, Nicky.” I dropped my head back. “What happened?”
“I don’t know all the details. I’d just arrived at the school when Ansel, my policeman, got the message. Right after that, Alex texted me. I had to go ahead with the visit to the school without Daisy, giving her apologies to everyone.” He paused. “I’m furious with her.”
“I didn’t even know she was seeing anyone seriously,” I remarked. “Did you? Did Alex?”
“No, apparently none of us had a clue.” He exhaled, and I could picture him rubbing the back of his neck as he did when he was especially stressed. “At the same time that I’m angry with Daisy, I’m also upset at myself. Over the past year, I’ve been so preoccupied with—eh, other things—that I’ve let some distance grow between us. I haven’t been as present for her as I once was.”
“Now I feel terrible, since I’m the other things you’ve been preoccupied with,” I groaned. “I can’t believe Daisy would do this. I mean, I realize she’s always been a little, ah, impetuous, but I never thought she’d do something like this.”
“She’s not a child, Ky. She knows better. I can’t imagine what’s going through her head—we spoke on the telephone last night to confirm the details for today, and she sounded perfectly fine. I think this was a very sudden decision. I find it hard to believe she would purposely set me up to cover for her when she had a commitment. Daisy’s a lot of things—stubborn, willful and a little wild—but she’s never been intentionally hurtful, and she always puts duty first. She wouldn’t neglect this visit unless it was absolutely necessary.”
A twinge of fear snaked through me. “You’re certain she eloped? This couldn’t be something bad? Someone taking her?”
“No, but don’t think we all didn’t have that same thought. But security has located her in Scotland. She’s fine and not in any danger.” He snorted. “At least, nothing immediate. I can’t swear to what will happen once she comes home and has to face my father.”
I winced. “Oooooh. That won’t be fun.”
“No, but nothing more than she deserves.” Nicky grunted. “Listen, Ky, I hate to do this, but is there any way you can cut your day a bit short and come home now? Given the events of the day, my parents have requested that we all gather this afternoon at their apartment.”
“Of course.” I glanced down at the schedule that my assistant laid on my desk every morning. “There’s nothing that can’t be moved around. I’ll call Harold and leave as soon as he’s here.”
“Actually, he’s already downstairs waiting for you. He’s in the back this time, though—he said to tell you that being brave once on a day like this is quite enough. I’m not sure I want to know what that means.”
I laughed softly. Good old Harold. “I’ll explain later. See you at home in a bit?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
13
As someone who was raised in a relatively large and close-knit extended family, I was very well acquainted with the phenomenon of a clan powwow. Honey and Handsome regularly hosted dinners or even entire weekends for all of the Duncans, usually when there was some news to be shared like an engagement, a pregnancy or an illness or before they made a big move in the business.
Sitting in the Westhamptons’ elegant yet cozy sitting room later that afternoon, I was struck by the similarities I felt to my own family. There was undoubted love and unconditional acceptance, yes, but there was also more than a little tension—something which had only increased when Daisy arrived. The fact that she wasn’t alone didn’t help the situation at all.
I tried to be subtle as I covertly studied the young man who was holding her hand. He was not at all the kind of man I would have pictured for Daisy; his hair was long and dyed white-blond, with dark roots showing. He sported an earring and a pierced eyebrow, a large tattoo on his chest, visible where his shirt was unbuttoned, and an att
itude that clearly dared anyone to judge his appearance.
“Daisy.” The Duchess rose to her feet and hurried to her daughter. “Thank God you’re safe.”
Daisy returned her mother’s hug. “I never wasn’t safe, Mummy. I was fine the entire time. I’m sorry if you worried, though.”
“We woke up this morning to a message from you announcing that you were in Scotland, getting married—and you didn’t share to whom. I don’t think it’s odd that we were very concerned.” The Duke regarded his youngest daughter. “Would you care to introduce us?”
“Of course.” Daisy grinned. “Daddy and Mummy—oh, and everyone else, too—this is Roc. Roc, darling, this is everyone.”
Roc smirked and gave a jerk of his chin, which was clearly meant as a greeting to us all. If we’d been in the States, I would have expected him to follow up with a surly, “’Sup?”
As it was, he remained silent, but his eyes traveled over the room, taking in the gathered family. I might have been imagining it, but I thought I saw a vague panic under the carefully cultivated apathy.
“Roc.” The Duchess kept her voice even. “How nice to meet you. Do you have a last name?” She glanced at Daisy. “Since it appears my daughter would now share that name?”
“He’s just Roc, Mummy.” Daisy’s brow knit together. “He’s a photographer, and that’s his name.”
“Oh, a photographer?” Alex nodded as if this somehow made sense. “Did you meet through your art patronage, then, Daisy?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Roc’s a friend of Cassa—you know, my friend the fashion designer. He works with her sometimes, and we connected at one of her parties.”
I held my breath, wondering if the rest of the room was thinking what I was—that maybe connected meant more than any of us wanted to know.
“And when exactly did you meet? How long have you known each other?” The Duke was holding himself together with admirable grace.
“Last night.” Daisy answered without any trepidation. “It was love at first sight. Or something.”
Next to me on the loveseat, I was almost certain that Nicky growled.
Daisy either sensed her brother’s rage or heard the noise he’d just made, because she turned toward him, her face showing the first sign of contrition I’d seen since she walked in the door.
“Nicky, I’m so sorry about today. I didn’t forget, and I’d hoped that maybe I’d make it back in time, but it turns out there isn’t an airport near Gretna Green. We’d driven all night to get there, and I didn’t realize we couldn’t just grab a flight to come home. I hope the visit went well, anyway.”
Nicky glowered at his sister but said nothing. I slid my hand into his and squeezed.
“Margaret.” The Duke addressed his daughter by her formal name, which I figured meant that his patience was gone. “This is ridiculous. You can’t just run off to marry a man you don’t know, whom you only met last night. What were you thinking?”
Daisy’s back stiffened. “I was thinking that I was in love and wanted to do things the right way, Daddy.”
“This is going to be a nightmare. You know that it’s already hit the newspapers, don’t you? The headlines are cringe-inducing.”
“I did see some of them.” Daisy shot me a smile. “Knocked you right off the front page, Ky. You’re welcome.”
I winced and tried to make myself as small as possible, leaning into Nicky’s side.
“And why does it matter, anyway? If I were just plain Daisy Westhampton, the granddaughter of a . . . of a mechanic and his wife, who would care that I eloped? Why should my family’s name and position make a difference?”
“Because it does, Daisy, and you know this.” Alex sounded exhausted. I saw for the first time that she had dark circles under her eyes. “Rail against fate all you like, but it doesn’t change facts.”
“The fact of our family’s title and who we are has nothing to do with my disappointment in you, Daisy.” The Duke gazed at his youngest daughter with something akin to compassion. “This was not a good decision, no matter what your name might be.” He exhaled. “However, it’s easily remedied. We’ve already talked to the Bishop, and we’ll be able to arrange an annulment quickly and quietly.”
“But what if I—if we—don’t want an annulment?” Daisy demanded. “You can’t force us into anything. Roc and I are both adults.”
“You are,” her father agreed. “And two adults such as yourselves surely can see that this is a very grave mistake.” He was silent for a beat. “Daisy, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t see, em, Roc again. I’m not trying to separate you. But starting a marriage this way is ludicrous. It’s a recipe for heartbreak and disaster. Take some time. Get to know each other, and then, if you both feel the same way and decide you’re suited, you can marry with our blessing—with your family around you. The right way.”
“Who’s to say how we got married wasn’t the right way for us?” Daisy challenged.
On the sofa adjacent to our seat, Jake, who sat with his arm around Alex, rolled his eyes. The Duchess heaved a deep sigh. And next to me, Nicky muttered into my ear, “It’s going to a long night.”
It was indeed a long night. At some point near midnight, I nodded off to sleep on Nicky’s shoulder, exhausted by the day’s events. I had already left a message for my assistant that I wouldn’t be into the office until the afternoon, if at all, so when Nicky finally woke me and pulled me to my feet, at least I knew that I could stay in bed as long as I wanted the next morning.
“What happened?” I asked Nicky drowsily as he led me out into the damp dark of very early morning. “Where did Daisy go?” I hadn’t seen her or Roc as we’d left the Westhamptons’ apartment.
“She went home, to her apartment.” Nicky shook his head. “What a mess she made. What a little idiot my sister is.” But he spoke with a weary tenderness, and I knew the worst of his mad with Daisy had passed.
“Did she . . . what are they going to do?” I blinked, holding tight to Nicky’s hand. Our cottage was just around the corner from the Duke and Duchess’s apartment, an easy walk even in the middle of the night.
“I’ll tell you in the morning. Or later today, I guess. Right now, I’m too exhausted to form unnecessary words.”
At home, we both discarded our clothes and fell into bed together, asleep nearly before our heads hit the pillows. It was nearly noon before I opened my eyes again.
“Good morning, sleepy head.” Nicky was sitting at the small desk in our bedroom, his laptop open. “I thought you were never going to wake up.”
“I was so tired.” I stretched my arms over my head. “I can’t believe you’re awake. How long have you been up?”
“Only about an hour,” he confessed. “I had a meeting scheduled that I needed to postpone.”
“Ah.” I sighed and kicked off the covers. “Have you heard anything about Daisy and Roc this morning?”
Nicky grimaced. “No. I didn’t expect to hear anything, actually. She was very upset when she left my parents’ home. But she’s going to do the right thing.”
“They’re going ahead with the annulment?” Frankly, I was amazed. Daisy was strong-willed and stubborn. I’d expected her to dig in her heels for at least a little while.
“Yes. It took a good deal of coercion, but my mother and father finally convinced her that it was the only way.” Nicky was quiet for a few seconds.
“How did they do it?” I rolled to my side to watch his face as he answered me.
“My father pointed out that what she’d done by running away had hurt my grandmother, and that continuing to demand her own way in this would only make it worse. He pointed out that Granny is quite old, and that she cannot stand shocks like this.”
I frowned. “I forget sometimes that the Queen is actually pretty old, isn’t she? I don’t see her as weak or fragile, though. The opposite, in fact.”
“Well, you’re not wrong. Granny is actually very fit, and given what she’s endured th
rough the years, I hardly think a granddaughter eloping will push her over the edge. However, Daisy is very close to Granny, and I think the idea that she might have hurt her is what finally made Daisy give in.”
“Hmm. Well.” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to work out some of the snarls. “I guess that’s a good thing.”
“Of course, it is.” Nicky had turned to type on his laptop again. “I don’t know what the hell she was thinking, marrying a man she’d just met. A man named Roc, for the love of God.” He tapped away on the keyboard for another few moments before turning back to me. “My father emailed me this morning. It turns out Roc is actually Griffin Rockingham, the second son of the Marquis of Rockingham.”
My eyes widened. “Wow. So Roc is . . . kind of nobility, too? He’s not just a working-class photographer?”
Nicky chuckled. “Hardly. Even as the second son, he stands to inherit a nice sum of money, though no title, of course.”
“Of course,” I echoed. In my cram sessions on the British peerage, I’d learned all about the levels of aristocracy. Marquesses were up there just below dukes.
“Not that his rank makes any difference.” Nicky shook his head. “My parents are actually very open-minded people. It was the idea of the running off to get married that upset them. They’d have welcomed Roc to the dinner table no matter who he was, if Daisy asked. They still might, if she decides to keep seeing him even after they’re no longer married.”
“Your parents are open-minded,” I agreed. “Look how easily they welcomed me, the ignorant American, into the family.”
Nicky nodded gravely. “That was the example I was thinking of. I just wasn’t going to say it aloud.”
Pretending to be wounded, I opened my mouth wide in feigned shock and jabbed him in the ribs as I passed. “Nice way to talk about the woman you’re going to marry in a few months, bud.”
“Hey.” He caught my hand to keep me from walking away. “I didn’t say it. You did. I only agreed.” He pulled me onto his lap, sliding his chair back from the desk to give us more room. “And I only did it to tease you. You know, or you should know, anyway, how much I adore you, American or no. And you’re never obnoxious.” He paused. “However, if you got your eyebrow pierced like Roc, I think it would really go a long way into helping you to fit into the Royal Family.”
The Anti-Cinderella Takes London Page 12