Royal Court

by Jenny Frame

  Holly sighed and plonked herself down at the table. “There will be if you don’t stop calling me Ms. Weaver. It’s Holly.”

  “Sorry—Ms. Holly,” Quincy said with the ghost of a smile.

  “Wait, was that a joke?” Holly said. “Not from you, Stompy.”

  Quincy gave her another smile. Two smiles in one night? She was privileged.

  Holly put both cups of coffee on the table and noticed a few other cups there, along with a case of paints, various brushes, water, and a box of unpainted figures. What was Quincy doing?

  “I brought you a coffee, but I see you’ve had a few already,” Holly said.

  “Thank you. I could do with another,” Quincy replied.

  “You’ll never sleep, you know.”

  Quincy cleared her throat nervously and said, “I don’t sleep much.”

  There was a silence, and Quincy went back to her painting of her little figures and Holly took a sip of coffee.

  “Ugh, it’s not the best coffee, is it.”

  Quincy never looked from her painting. Holly couldn’t help but gaze at Quincy’s slow, methodical brushstrokes. She was so precise.

  “Compared to the coffee brew kits in marine rations, it’s top notch,” Quincy said.

  Top notch? She sounded just like George. So posh. Holly chuckled to herself. “I couldn’t live without my coffee. When I’m in London, I love to get mine on my way to work, but since we’ve been on tour, I’ve been too lazy to get up early enough to go out and get it.”

  Another silence sat between them. Quincy wasn’t much at making conversation. Why had she come over here in the first place? Holly thought.

  As if reading her mind, Quincy said, “Thank you for bringing me coffee, but don’t feel obligated to sit with me.”

  Holly sat up quickly and said defensively, “I don’t feel obligated.”

  Even though she did, but she wasn’t going to let Quincy think she was right and make herself look bad.

  “So, what are you doing here with your paints and brushes?” Holly was going to have a conversation whether Quincy liked it or not.

  Quincy put down the figure she was holding and set her fine paintbrush in a cup of water.

  “I paint model soldiers and—”

  Holly burst out laughing. “You paint toy soldiers? Like the kind kids play with?”

  “I do not paint toy soldiers,” Quincy said defensively. “I paint metal figures. It’s very precise and difficult work. I do it to relax.”

  Relax? She painted toy soldiers to relax? My God, she would have never imagined that drop-dead gorgeous polo player she had seen a year ago would paint soldiers for fun. Maybe all military officers were dull—after all, Queen Georgina made model ships and planes. She had a whole room dedicated to it at Windsor. Beatrice found it endearing in George, but the silent Captain Quincy was a different matter.

  She had seen George with Bea in private, and they had such a passionate energy. Quincy didn’t appear to have passion or anger in her. Captain Cameron was never dull either, so it couldn’t be an officer thing.

  “…in the Big Apple?” Holly caught the tail-end of Quincy’s question but had been so lost in her thoughts she missed the rest.

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said, I thought you’d be spending time with your friends tonight, or out with the other staff? Clay couldn’t wait to go out and experience an evening in the Big Apple.” Quincy took a drink of her coffee.

  “You mean Bea and Lali?” Holly said.

  Quincy nodded.

  “Well, they all were having a dinner and movie night. To relax before the workweek really starts. But Lali has Cammy now, so it’s a couples thing. I didn’t want to be a third wheel. Bea and Lali tried to insist, but no. My friends have all coupled up and I’m the last single one. It’s awkward sometimes.”

  Holly realized how open she was being. She hadn’t admitted that to anyone, not even her friends.

  “I understand. Why didn’t you go out on the town? I’m sure Clay would have been delighted to escort you,” Quincy said quite seriously.

  “Escort me?” Holly laughed softly. It was like having a conversation with someone from a Regency romance novel. “I don’t need an escort, and anyway Clay is too young for me. She is gorgeous eye candy though.”

  Quincy looked down quickly and tensed up. She clearly found that sort of talk embarrassing. She wondered what it would take to ruffle those posh, awkward, dull feathers.

  Holly had wanted to keep talking to Quincy to prove a point, and Quincy was intriguing, like a puzzle she had to work out. No one who looked as good as she did in a polo uniform could be that dull.

  “Anyway, we’ve got a lot on this week, and I need all my beauty sleep for my date on Friday.”

  “Your date?” Quincy looked up.

  “My auction date with Story St. John. Have you seen any of her films? She plays a soldier a lot and holds a machine gun like no one else.” Holly smiled and winked.

  Quincy looked at her impassively. The small amount of light-heartedness they had shared during the conversation had disappeared.

  “No, I haven’t. I don’t see many films or TV unless they’re documentaries.”

  “I thought you’d say that.” Holly stretched and yawned. “I better go and get my beauty sleep.”

  When Holly stood, so did Quincy. Politeness was ingrained in her it seemed. “Good night, Ms. Holly.”

  “Night, Stompy,” Holly said and walked off.

  Chapter Seven

  Quincy got her usual couple hours of nightmare-filled sleep and went out for a run before her duty shift started. The busy, noisy New York streets were the perfect antidote to the dark movies that played and replayed in her mind.

  It was going to be a busy day for the royal couple with three events packed into the day. She prayed they would get through the day and this tour without incident. George, her friend, had entrusted her wife and her child to Quincy, and Quincy felt the pressure every day, especially after the threat she had received.

  Inspector Lang took the text seriously enough, but she suspected the rest of the team had listened to Garrett’s insinuations after the incident in Toronto. They thought she had a hair-trigger response at least, and who knew what they said about her when she wasn’t there.

  She had to be vigilant. She’d let down her comrades on their last mission, and she wasn’t going to let it happen again, no matter what her colleagues thought.

  Quincy stopped when she came upon a coffee shop. It was the chain that Holly had mentioned being her favourite, that she was never up early enough to get.

  I wonder what she likes?

  Her first instinct was to bring her something, but she had no idea what to order and, going by the menu she could see through the window, the list was extensive.

  She decided to make it her mission to find out. The conversation they’d had last night revealed a lot to her about Holly. She wasn’t just the larger than life party girl. She was kind, that was certain. There was no way Holly came over to talk to her last night through interest in her. It was undoubtedly through kindness, when Holly saw her sitting on her own.

  Quincy wasn’t one to share a joke or sparkling conversation, she knew that about herself, and while she busied herself with her model painting, she wasn’t the most likely to attract a friendly companion. That suited Quincy. Friends or lovers wanted something she couldn’t give—feelings, affection. Feelings made you ineffective to your task, as her mother had taught her, and as she had learned, feelings could take your life, everything you held dear, away from you.

  She knew she inspired loyalty from those who served under her, simply by her conduct, her bravery, and fairness, and she had cared about all those who served in her unit like brothers and sisters. That was why it hurt so much, and why she had to keep iron control on herself.

  She arrived back at the hotel by six a.m. Plenty of time to get showered and changed. Then her phone pinged with a text.
>
  Nobody believes you, do they?

  ***

  Holly thought she had broken the ice with Quincy last night, but this morning she was back to her unapproachable, stompy self, and when she tried to talk to Quincy, it seemed like her head was in a completely different place. It was almost like she had let a tiny sliver of personality show, then reined it back in quickly. Why was she frightened of showing what was clearly underneath the surface?

  At the first visit that morning the Queen, Bea, and Teddy went to a children’s charity project. Bea thought it was particularly important to include this charity when they had made the plans for the tour, since it was for children who’d suffered bereavement, a subject very close to Beatrice’s heart.

  Bea had never appointed ladies-in-waiting, as such, so Lali and Holly pitched in whenever they were needed—like today, when Bea thought she might need some backup help with Teddy.

  They met a group of about twenty-five children and the charity’s staff. George and Bea went around to every one of them, listening to their stories and telling them how brave they were.

  Holly was so proud of Bea. All the children were nervous about meeting her until she hugged them and put them at their ease. Once the first few kids had a hug from Bea, a line for her hugs developed, so much so that George joked that no one wanted her hugs. Of course, the kids then ran to her.

  After watching a play about bereavement, put on by the children, they were invited to take part in a game of indoor kickball.

  Holly hovered around the edge just in case George or Bea would need her to take Teddy. She saw Garrett standing a few feet away and took the opportunity to walk over.

  “Hi, Garrett, it’s going well isn’t it?”

  Garrett grinned. “Yep, no problems, just like I said.”

  Holly turned to her quickly. “Why? Was there supposed to be?”

  Garrett whispered, “According to our Captain Quincy, there’s threats to Queen Beatrice around every corner on this trip. She keeps trying to convince Inspector Lang, anyway.”

  That was the argument she must have overheard on the plane. Holly played dumb. “Why would anyone threaten Queen Beatrice?”

  “That’s what nobody in the team knows apart from the brave Captain Quincy, so it would seem.”

  Holly detected a large dose of jealousy from Garrett. She did know the job of Bea’s security person had been earmarked for Garrett, until the Queen unexpectedly chose Captain Quincy.

  Maybe she could use Garrett to find out some more info on Quincy. “What do you know about Quincy, Garrett?”

  Garrett gave her a slightly suspicious look. “Why are you interested?”

  “Because Queen Beatrice is one of my best friends, and I want to know she is in safe hands, and Captain Quincy has barely acknowledged me since she started working with us. I’d like to know if she has a problem.”

  “Yeah, you’re Queen Bea’s close friend, aren’t you?” Garrett appeared to grasp that she might have someone with the Queen’s ear. Garrett leaned over and said, “When she was appointed, I heard lots of rumours, so I made enquiries. She’s been in the marines since she left boarding school and worked without incident until after she won her Victoria Cross.”

  Holly turned her head to catch sight of Quincy and found the captain’s eyes already on her. That was a few times she had caught her doing that. Did she aggravate Quincy that much?

  Garrett continued, “Her mother is the highest ranking woman in the armed services.”

  “Wow,” Holly said. “Is she in the marines too?”

  “No, a vice admiral in the Royal Navy. Not hard to understand Quincy’s quick rise through the ranks, or her medal.”

  That comment was a step too far. Any good friend of George’s and Cammy’s would be loyal, hardworking, and never take a leg up. As quiet and unassuming as Quincy was, and maybe conservative in her tastes, she wouldn’t believe that of her.

  She thought she’d heard enough. “Well, thanks, Garrett.”

  And as she went to walk away, Garrett grasped her arm and said, “But you haven’t heard the best bit. After she won her medal, Captain Quincy beat a fellow officer to a pulp. Put him in hospital. She should have been court-martialled out of the service, and but for her mother and the Queen riding to her rescue, she would have. Now she has the cushy and extremely well-paid job of protecting Queen Beatrice and the heir to the throne. Nice, eh?”

  Just as Holly went to reply, Garrett’s mobile rang. She looked at it and said, “I have to take this.”

  Then walked off. Holly considered their exchange as she watched Garrett whisper into her phone.

  I don’t think I like you. She didn’t buy Garrett’s assessment of Quincy one bit, although it was interesting to find out some of Quincy’s background. Having a vice admiral for a mother must have been interesting.

  Holly looked over to Quincy again. She didn’t know why she was so interested in what made Quincy tick. She supposed it was because she hadn’t met anyone so controlled—and apparently without much of a personality—before. There must be some fire in there. Somewhere, surely.

  “Walk to Holls.” Bea was walking to her, with Teddy leading the way, and Bea supporting Teddy with her hands.

  Holly crouched down and opened her arms to her. “Come on, then. Walk to me.”

  Teddy shuffled towards her with a big smile on her face.

  Holly grasped her up into her arms and twirled Teddy in the air. The little girl giggled, and Holly brushed her dark hair from her deep blue eyes.

  As Bea joined her, Holly said, “This one is going to break some hearts, Bea.”

  Bea smiled and said, “If she’s anything like her mum, she will. We came for your help, didn’t we, poppet?”

  Teddy nodded and said, “Help, Holls.”

  “We can’t let Mum win, can we Teddy?”

  They both looked over to George, who had two kids by the hands. “Hurry up, you three.”

  George smiled, and Holly heard Bea sigh lovingly. “You’re still as loved up as when you met, aren’t you?”

  Bea nodded. “I never thought I could be this lucky.”

  “I wish someone would make me sigh like that,” Holly said.

  Bea gave her a cheeky smile. “Story St. John did.”

  Holly kissed Teddy’s brow. “That doesn’t count. She’s unattainable, and I am supposed to be the great man-eater, remember?”

  “Supposed to be. Let’s go, Teddy.”

  ***

  After two engagements in one day, it was back to the hotel to get a quick meal and prepare for the royal couple’s evening event. Once Queen Beatrice was safely in her suite, Quincy went in search of Inspector Lang in the rec room, where the team were getting some food during their break. She’d reported the text message as soon as she got back from her run this morning and Lang had said it would be traced while they were out.

  Quincy strode into the rec room and saw a group of agents around Garrett, who stopped talking when she entered. Clay was eating with one of the other staff members, and Lang sat at one of the tables looking over his computer pad.

  “Sir?” Quincy said.

  He looked up. “Ah, Captain. Make sure you eat before we head back out. It’s going to be a late one by the looks of it.”

  “Sir, did you trace the text message?” Quincy said.

  Inspector Lang cleared his throat. “Yes, we did. It was a cheap prepaid phone, discarded in a bin—”

  Garrett, whom she hadn’t heard approach, said, “A bin that happened to be on your jogging route this morning. Imagine that.”

  She turned to her quickly. “Just what are you insinuating?”

  Garret smirked at her. “What do you think, Captain Fantastic?”

  Quincy felt a hot surge of anger course through her system, and it took everything in her not to respond in kind.

  “That’s enough, Garrett. Go,” Inspector Lang said.

  When she walked off, Lang put a supportive arm on her shoulder. “Listen, Q
uincy. I checked and rechecked with intelligence, there is absolutely no chatter or any threats to Queen Beatrice. If this is a threat, it’s someone working on their own.”

  “That’s all it takes. One person, sir,” Quincy said.

  “I know, and we will monitor the situation and be prepared until we know more,” Lang said.

  “I think we should tell the Queen, sir.”

  “No,” Lang said firmly. “I know Queen Georgina is your personal friend, but I don’t want her worrying over something that will most likely be no threat.”

  “Of course, sir.” Even though she disagreed, Quincy would never go above Inspector Lang’s head and disregard the chain of command.

  “Now get something to eat,” Lang told her before getting back to his work.

  Quincy felt so frustrated. How could no one see what she did? There was so much at stake.

  Clayton walked up to her and said, “Captain, come and eat with us?”

  “Not tonight, Clay. I think I’ll just go back to my room for a while.”

  ***

  Holly watched Bea finish feeding Teddy in her high chair, then lift her out and give her a big kiss.

  Nanny Baker came and took Teddy from Bea, then said, “Let’s get you ready for your bath, Your Royal Highness.”

  Bea said, “The Queen is doing her boxes, but let her know when Teddy’s ready, Nanny Baker. She always likes to bathe Teddy.”

  “Of course, ma’am.”

  Bea flopped down on the couch beside Holly and hugged her cushion. “Can you believe I have to go out again? I’m exhausted after today’s visits.”

  “A Queen Consort’s work is never done,” Holly quipped.

  “You’re not joking. The kids ran rings around me today. It’s amazing that children who’ve been through so much can still find it in themselves to laugh and play. It’s inspiring, makes me feel bad for even daring to complain. Forget I said I’m tired. Tonight I will have the biggest smile on.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Holly looked at her watch. “I’m starving. I hope Lali hurries up.”