The Anti-Cinderella Takes London

by Tawdra Kandle

I perked up. “Seriously? You’re sure?”

  Nicky laughed. “I knew that would seal the deal. Yes, because we’ll be walking in the muddy fields and looking at all of the plots they have there. It’s only a semi-official engagement, since it’s last minute. I told them yes, conditionally. I thought you’d have to check your schedule at Honey Bee.”

  “I’m free.” I tucked my legs beneath me in the hard, wooden chair. “I told everyone at the office not to expect me before Monday. I’d love to visit the gardens with you.”

  “I guess that means you won’t be free to spend the afternoon with me, then.” Daisy gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. We’ll have to postpone all of our, ah, mischief for another day.”

  “Maybe you could come have lunch with me at the office one day next week,” I suggested. “We can have something brought in, and I can show you what I do there.”

  Daisy considered. “It doesn’t sound as fun as a day of shopping or visiting art galleries or as an evening of bar hopping, but sure. Tell me when, and I’ll come over.” She smirked. “It’ll be interesting to see how the working class lives.”

  “You should give her a job.” Nicky crumpled up his napkin and tossed it at his sister. “It would be good for Daisy to have something constructive to do.”

  “And on that note, I’ve got to go.” Daisy pushed back her chair. “I’m tired, and I promised a few friends that I’d meet them tonight at a new club that’s opening up.”

  “Have fun.” I stood up and hugged her. “Thank you for coming with me today. I had a good time.”

  “I did, too.” She sounded mildly surprised at the truth of this statement. “I’ll talk to you soon, Ky.” She bent to kiss her brother’s cheek. “Thank you sharing your fish and chips, Nicky. Bye!”

  In typical Daisy fashion, she blew out the door just as she’d blown in. Nicky watched her go with a mix of amusement and concern.

  “Well, Ky, I officially feel old now.” He shook his head. “What is it about my younger sister that makes everyone else seem staid and boring?”

  “She’s putting on a show for you.” I picked up both my plate and Nicky’s to carry them into the kitchen. “This whole mess with Roc hurt her more than she’s letting on. I think that’s why she came over today—she pretended it was to see me, but I’m pretty sure she was lonely and feeling blue.”

  “No one told her she couldn’t continue to see him.” Nicky gathered the trash from our dinner and stuffed it into the paper bag. “It was her choice.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t.” I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms. “Maybe it was Roc who went away. I think whatever happened between them might have really hurt Daisy.”

  “They didn’t know each other very long—they’d only just met,” Nicky pointed out. “How could it be anything that serious? Her pride might be injured, but I doubt she’s got a broken heart.”

  “I guess.” I turned back around to face the sink, running water over our plates and silverware. “Still, we should keep an eye on her. Let’s invite her over for dinner more often, or see if she wants to come and watch a movie here with us.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Nicky came up behind me, sliding his arms around my waist and coaxing my head to the side so that he could kiss my neck. “But I don’t want to think about my sister right now, and I definitely don’t want to talk about her anymore.” His hands roamed up over my ribs, one palm cupping my breast.

  “Oh, is that so?” I pretended to be indifferent to his touch, even as my heartbeat sped up. “What do you want to talk about, then?”

  “I don’t think I want to talk about anything.” His lips wandered down to the juncture of my neck and shoulder. “I think I want to let my body do all the communicating I need.”

  I giggled. “You’re giving me goosebumps. And watch out. My hands are wet.”

  “Hmmmm.” He managed to get one hand up under my shirt to pinch my nipple. “Is any other part of your body wet?”

  I shivered. “It’s possible that one particular part of me is getting that way.”

  “That’s promising.” He let his other hand, the one not currently playing with my boob, drift down between my legs. “Let the washing up wait.”

  “But I’m almost done.” I rubbed at one plate, swallowing hard. “Can’t you be a little bit patient?”

  “When it comes to you? Absolutely not.” He turned me until I faced him, my soapy hands pressing into his chest. “As a matter of fact, I don’t think I can even wait long enough to go upstairs.”

  Before I could react, Nicky lifted me to the counter, hiking up the skirt of my dress, spreading my thighs and stepping between them. He slid his fingers into my hair and held my head, tilting me back so that he could possess my lips, thrusting his tongue into my mouth.

  “I want you so much,” he murmured. “It’s crazy how much I need you.”

  My breath was coming in short gasps. “I can feel that.”

  “Slide to the edge here.” He tugged me forward until I was barely balanced on the cold tile.

  “I’m going to fall,” I protested.

  “I’d never let that happen.” Nicky sank to his knees until his face was level with the part of me that was throbbing with desire. He pressed his face into me, and I arched my back with a cry.

  “Are you sure?” I panted. “I feel like I might be about to go tumbling headfirst.”

  “If you do, I’ll be right there with you.” His voice was rough. “I promise.” His lips and tongue relentlessly worked me, drawing me closer and closer to the edge of the ecstasy.

  “Give it to me.” Nicky added two fingers to his ministrations. “Let me feel you come right now.”

  I gripped the counter. “I want to. But I want you—I want to come with you inside me.”

  Nicky growled, but he stood up, unbuttoned his pants and freed his stiffened cock. “This is what you want?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I want you inside me now.”

  His hands on my hips, fingers digging into my skin, he thrust into me, and I sucked in a fast breath.

  “Wrap your legs around me. I need to be as close to you as I can.”

  I obeyed, hooking my feet at his back as Nicky moved me up and down, finding the right pacing. I felt the approaching orgasm barreling down on me, and I let my head fall back.

  “Yes.” He ground out the single syllable. “God, I’m close, Ky. But let me feel you come first.”

  “Now,” I gasped. “Right now, Nicky. Harder—”

  Nicky groaned and plunged somehow further into me, hitting the exact spot that made me absolutely insane. I cried out, clinging to his shoulders, holding on tight as he found his own pinnacle.

  For a few moments, we stood there, both of us leaning heavily on the stalwart kitchen counter, breathing hard.

  “That was incredible.” Nicky tipped my face to his and kissed me, his lips lingering warmly over mine. “I have to remember that these counters are a perfect height.”

  “But they’re not altogether comfortable.” I grimaced. “And they’re cold, too. I think my ass has gone numb.”

  “Well, we can’t have that.” Nicky scooped me up, his hands cupping my backside. I laughed and wrapped myself around him like a vine on a tree.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked, dropping small kisses to his neck.

  “Up to bed.” Nicky leaned back to look into my face. “That was too fast. I want to take it slower now.”

  “That was a teaser.” I grinned. “Just a little glimpse of coming attractions.”

  “Oh, was it?” He began to climb the steps. “Then let’s definitely get on with the featured presentation.”

  We did exactly that.

  And it turned out to be a double feature.

  18

  “I thought this was supposed to be a small and quiet engagement.” I looked out the car window, peering at the crowds of people waiting just ahead of us. “That doesn’t look like a small gathering to me.”

  Nick
y looked up from his phone, where he’d been reading something, and followed the direction of my gaze.

  “Huh. Well, word must have gotten out that you’re coming.” With an impish grin, he clicked off the phone and tucked it away. “It’s going to be fine, sweetheart. We’re just going to wander around and talk to anyone who wants to talk with us . . . we’ll look at what they’re growing and maybe plant a couple of things with the kids here.”

  “All right.” I leaned back as the car drew to a stop. “And I’m taking Honey’s advice. I won’t bring up food sustainability, and if anyone asks me, I promise I won’t get carried away.”

  “Don’t set up rules for yourself before we even go out there. Talk about what feels comfortable, what feels right.” Nicky squeezed my hand. “I’ll be proud of you, no matter what.”

  “Be careful what you tell me.” I laughed as the car door opened and Nicky climbed out. “I might actually do it.”

  The moment I stood up on the outside of the car, a small cheer rose from the people waiting for us. There was clapping and shouting from the shining, excited faces looking back at us.

  “Your Royal Highness.” A short, plump, balding man stepped forward. “I’m Petey Groves, sir, and I manage this garden. We’re so happy you could join us on this important occasion.”

  “A pleasure, Mr. Groves. Thank you for having us.” Nicky pressed a hand to my back. “This is my fiancée, Kyra. We’re both very interested to see how you run this community garden and what kind of results you’re seeing.”

  “Well, sir, I’ll be glad to give you the short tour, and then you can wander around as you’d like and talk to the people who are most active in growing things.” He moved to the side and swept one arm outward. “Right this way, if you will.”

  Nicky held my hand as we tramped across the neatly laid out plots. I breathed in deep, loving the aroma of freshly turned over soil, dark and fertile. This was my happy place, my nirvana, and I wanted nothing more than to get on my knees and dig.

  Mr. Groves pointed out each crop and explained that they’d been slowly acquiring more land. “We started out with two small plots, with just my family and one other person’s group growing food,” he told us. “Then a friend said she’d like to do something like we were, so we managed to rent a bit more of the land. Eventually, we bought that extra and even a bit more. Now we have over forty families with active growing plots.”

  “That’s an amazing number.” I stooped to rub a soft, velvety leaf. “And each family eats the food they grow?”

  “Yes, miss.” Mr. Groves nodded. “Most all of them also give a portion to a local food bank. It’s nice for those folks to have fresh vegetables now and again.”

  “I believe I heard you have an elder program, too, don’t you?” Nicky inquired. “That sounds very interesting.”

  “It is, sir.” Mr. Groves smiled widely. “Some of our seniors were depressed because they had to give up gardening, so we created a plot that’s just a little larger than our normal ones, and now they have a place to come and garden. We widened the rows, and a generous donation allowed us to buy a couple of chairs with wheels that can handle the softer dirt. All of our elder gardeners work that plot together—some might have a row, others just a few plants, but they’re happy to be back in the garden. We’ve also invited some children who might not otherwise have the opportunity to learn about plants to join us, and some of them like to work in the senior plot. The older folks teach the younger kids what they know about growing plants, and those kids help them with some of the more physically demanding tasks, if they need it. We’ve seen many sweet relationships grow from that, too.”

  “That’s brilliant.” Nicky glanced at me. “I can see your grandmother getting involved in something like that.”

  “Oh, that’s true.” I turned to Mr. Groves. “I would really like to bring my grandmother here to see this the next time she visits England. She’d love it.”

  The man’s chest puffed out. “Well, we’d be happy to have both of you come visit, Ms. Duncan. And I realize that we have to go through the proper channels for this, but it would be a true honor if you would consider becoming a patron of the Tottenham Gardens. We’ve all followed you with great interest, and we’re so happy that someone with such a heart for the soil and farming is joining the Royal Family.”

  A flush of pleasure spread over my face. “Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

  “Well.” He nodded, his own cheeks a bit pink, too. “Unless there’s something else you’d like to see particularly, I’ll let you both wander around, perhaps meet some of our gardeners. I know they’re all eager to say hello.”

  So saying, he meandered to the next plot to speak with other visitors, leaving Nicky and me alone for the moment.

  It was a beautiful spring day, with a breeze blowing over the open land, and I was happier than I’d been in a long time, here in my element. There were lots of people around us, but none were openly staring, and even the reporters were keeping their distance. Nicky lifted our joined hands and brushed a kiss over my fingers.

  “There’s my Ky,” he murmured, just loud enough for my ears. “That’s the smile I’ve been missing. You just needed to get out here and dig in the dirt a bit, didn’t you?”

  I laughed. “This is exactly what I needed, Nicky. Thank you for realizing that.” I tilted my head, gesturing to a group of families a few rows away from us who were working on the ground. “They seem to be doing something fun. I think I’ll go see what they’re up to, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not a bit.” He released my hand. “I want to speak with the community liaison about how they’re distributing the surplus vegetables. I’ll catch up with you in a little while.”

  Walking over to the people kneeling in the dirt felt a little like being the new girl at school, approaching a table of people I didn’t know. I could tell that they saw me coming, because of the way their posture and voices changed, but none of them looked at me directly.

  Remembering everything I’d learned from Lady Marjorie, Sophie and the rest of the Palace crew, along with the examples set by Alex, I stopped by the first woman I came to and held out my hand.

  “Hello,” I said brightly. “I’m Kyra. What are you all growing here?”

  She turned a bright red and stammered an answer. “Oh, miss—oh, we’ve just, em, we’ve planted broccoli and brussels sprouts, you see. They’re just starting to come up here.”

  I knelt down to examine the tender baby plants. “Oh, look at them . . . they’re absolutely adorable, aren’t they?” Scooping up some of the dark soil, I let it sift through my fingers. “You’ve got a nice, rich ground here. Are you using anything to supplement the nutrients in the soil, or is this all natural?”

  One of the men stepped forward, his arms behind his back. “We add compost there, miss, mix it right in. I’ve been making my own for a number of years, for my own home garden, and now I bring it here, too.”

  “That’s wonderful.” I rose to my feet, dusting off my hands on my jeans. “I’m Kyra. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Oh.” He grinned. “Sam Halwood, miss. Pleasure’s all mine. We’re so glad you’re here today for the picnic. Petey only told us all this morning that you and Prince Nicholas were supposed to come, and the ladies have been quite excited about it.”

  “As if you weren’t just the same way, Sam.” Another of the women snorted. “We’re happy to meet you, Miss Duncan. I’m Amy Halwood, Sam’s wife.”

  “Miss.” I felt a small tug at the side of my shirt, and I glanced down to see a little girl with long blonde ringlets, looking up at me earnestly. “Would you like to see my carrots?”

  My heart melting, I dropped down until I was eye level with the cutie pie. “Of course, I would.” I offered her my hand. “I’m Kyra. What’s your name?”

  Her plump red lips curled into a smile. “I’m Natasha. And I’m this many years old.” She held up five fingers.

  “That’s
very grown up.” I nodded gravely. “And I like your name. It’s strong and confident, just like you. Now will you show me your carrots?”

  Natasha dragged me further down the row until we’d reached a spot where five tiny fountains of green sprang up from the black earth.

  “These are the tops,” she informed me. “The carrots grow underneath. They don’t come from the top.” She spoke with authority, but also with a tinge of wonder, as though maybe she’d only recently learned this bit of knowledge herself.

  “That’s very good to know, otherwise you might think your plants weren’t producing, and then you’d pull them up to find that you’ve grown carrots after all.” I sat down on the ground, crossing my legs. “Do you know, when I was a little girl living in the states, my sisters and I decided to grow carrots one year in our yard. Unfortunately, we didn’t plant them deep enough and the soil was very hard there, very packed down. So the poor carrots couldn’t grow deep into the dirt; instead, they grew outwards, so that when we harvested them, we had small, fat balls of carrots. Isn’t that silly?”

  Natasha laughed. “Balls of carrots! Did that really happen?”

  “It did,” I assured her, biting back a smile at the child’s skepticism. “I have pictures of them somewhere.” I craned my neck to see what else was going on in this area. “So tell me, Natasha. Do you come here with your family to take care of your plants?”

  “Oh, yes.” She nodded vigorously. “We come every other day, my mummy and daddy and me. And my brother Jack, but he doesn’t like to touch the dirt. He cries sometimes.” She looked around and then pointed toward a man and a woman who were watching us from a few yards away. The man had his cell phone out, and I guessed he was snapping pictures of Natasha and me. When we both turned to look their way, he guiltily and hastily tucked the phone away.

  A small boy stood between Natasha’s parents, staring down at the ground. I frowned, wondering why he wasn’t joining in with the gardening fun.

  “Is that your brother, Natasha?” I jerked my head in his direction.

  “Yes, that’s Jack.” In the way of children, she spoke without guile or pretense. “He has . . . a sin something.”