Royal Court

by Jenny Frame

Quincy opened her eyes and felt more rested than she ever had. It took her a few seconds to realize she was lying on Holly’s lap. She sat up quickly and rubbed her face. Holly was still sleeping and looked so beautiful at rest.

  They must have fallen asleep watching the film, but how she got onto Holly’s lap, she had no idea. As she thought about it, she remembered wakening slightly, feeling Holly’s fingers running through her hair, loving the feeling, and falling back to sleep. Quincy then realized she hadn’t had a nightmare. This was the first night since the mission happened, that she didn’t have her nightmares.

  Quincy felt unsettled and confused—she needed some space. She hurried upstairs to her room and jumped into the shower. As the water hammered down on her back, she thought about the feel of Holly’s fingers running through her hair, then she imagined them touching her body, and a heat spread across her skin, and want and need burned in her sex.

  Then she looked down at her scarred body. I can’t let her see this. I failed the ones I care about. Quincy immediately turned the shower ice-cold. I can’t feel this way.

  She remembered her mother drumming into her that emotion would destroy her life, her career. She’d already had her second chance, and she wouldn’t get another, especially with the admiral.

  Quincy got out of the shower and dressed quickly. Maybe these horse-riding lessons weren’t a good idea.

  She looked at the time on her watch and walked over to her computer pad on her desk.

  “Computer, call Helen.” Helen was the only one who could understand what pain she carried.

  Helen’s bright face appeared on the screen. “Good afternoon, Quin. Or good morning where you are.”

  “Good morning, Helen.”

  “Where are you now, exactly?” Helen asked.

  “We’re in Kentucky. The Queen’s friend owns a large ranch, so we’re having a week off.”

  “Good, you should relax more,” Helen said.

  Quincy heard the sound of Helen’s kids in the background. “How are you and the children, and Jacob?”

  “Me and the kids are doing well. Jacob is a little brighter—he had some more skin graft surgery, and it seemed to go well. We’re hoping it’s going to work out. The kids and I will be going to the hospital later, and I’ll tell him you called.”

  Quincy nodded. At the mention of Jacob’s name, her guilt washed over her. Guilt for having a good time with Holly when some of her men were dead, and Jacob was in constant pain.

  “Don’t, Quincy. I know that look,” Helen said.

  “What look?” Quincy didn’t think Helen could read her that well.

  “That guilty look. You’re a hero, Quincy. You saved my husband. Do you think that I’d rather he was dead? I would have given anything to have him come back to us, and you did bring him back.”

  Jacob had asked her to end his life. As he lay in the field hospital, he’d begged her, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t hurt her friend.

  “But he has a family, he has you. It should have been me in Jacob’s hospital bed,” Quincy said.

  “Why are you feeling this today? Has something happened?” Helen narrowed her eyes. “Have you met someone?”

  How did she know that?

  A smile crept onto Helen’s face. “You have. You have met someone. Tell me about her.”

  “I haven’t. You know I don’t feel that way,” Quincy said.

  “Don’t give me that rubbish the admiral drummed into you. You loved Jacob, and that means you can feel love.”

  Quincy sighed and looked down. “It’s just a friend who’s been kind to me. It’s nothing romantic.”

  “Who is she?” Helen asked.

  “How do you know it’s a she?” Quincy said more sharply than she meant to. “I’m sorry. I’m a little off kilter.”

  “That’s okay. Feelings can make you be like that. I know it’s a woman because your eyes wouldn’t flit about like that for a man friend. What’s her name?”

  “Holly Weaver. She’s the Queen Consort’s royal dresser and friend.”

  Helen’s face lit up. “The woman who went out with Story St. John?”

  “Yes. That’s her.” The mention of Story St. John made her uneasy.

  “She’s gorgeous, Quincy. What’s she like?” Helen asked.

  How could she describe Holly? There didn’t seem to be enough words to describe her, or the feeling in Quincy’s heart when she thought about her.

  “She’s spirited, and she doesn’t like rules, regulations, or following instructions.”

  Helen laughed. “You must have crossed swords with her, then.”

  “Yes, at the start, but she’s persistent, kind, giving to those she loves, and she likes spending time with me painting my models.”

  “She must like you if she’s doing that,” Helen joked.

  “Holly just decided she was going to be my friend. I’ve done everything I can to push her away, but nothing appears to dissuade her. She’s the most persistent woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Sounds like a woman after my own heart. Good for her. Hence the guilt. You’re thinking, how can I live and enjoy myself when Jacob is in pain, and your other men died. You wear your own scars, Quincy, both inside and out. Jacob told you to live life to the fullest. You promised him.”

  “I know I did, and I’ve failed miserably so far,” Quincy said.

  “But now you have a chance?” Helen said.

  “Maybe.” Quincy sighed.

  “Listen to me, Quincy,” Helen said seriously. “If you have the slightest chance to live and love, you have to grasp it with both hands, because you never know when it will be taken from you. To do anything else would be betraying the memory of your marines who died, and Jacob. If he could, he would give you a swift kick up the backside.”

  Helen was right. She could just imagine what he would say to her. She could see herself falling for Holly, and she had to at least try. Although if she had to compete against Story St. John, she didn’t think she could win. After everything Holly had done for her, she deserved a nice time this week, and the Queen had asked her to keep her company. So she would do that and more.

  ***

  Quincy fixed bait on her hook and watched Clay cast her line in the river.

  “You’ve done this before, Clay?” Quincy said.

  Clay grinned. “Yeah, my grandpa used to take us to Margate to sea fish on the holidays. I used to love it. Getting out of busy London and breathing in that sea air. It was brilliant.”

  The river the stable staff had directed them to was only a ten minute walk from the ranch. It was warm, beautiful, and quiet. Just perfect to start the day. They left very early, but Quincy felt bright and rested, something she hadn’t felt in a long time, and all because of Holly.

  Even though she was only half awake, the feel of Holly’s fingers stroking through her hair was heaven. Although socializing was difficult for her, Holly deserved her effort, because Holly was trying so hard with her.

  Quincy made sure she left the coffee pot ready to use this morning, and a cup and spoon ready for when Holly woke.

  Clay set her fishing pole down and lifted up a flask. “Tea, ma’am?”

  Quincy smiled. “I think you can call me Quincy now, Clay.”

  “Sorry, Quincy, thanks. Tea?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Clay poured out the tea and handed it to her. The mug was warming and comforting. She looked over at her fishing pole. There hadn’t been a movement since she had cast out first thing this morning, but Clay had a few bites.

  “I don’t think I’m ever going to get a bite,” Quincy said.

  “Part of the fun of fishing, isn’t it? Sitting here, enjoying the quiet, no bites,” Clay joked.

  Quincy chuckled. “You’re right.”

  They were silent for a few minutes, then Clay said, “Quincy, have you had any more of those messages?”

  “No.” Quincy sighed. “They’ve dried up. Maybe it was just some crank.”


  Clay looked at her seriously. “But you don’t think so?”

  “No. Something tells me it’s serious, but there’s no evidence. The one man who has something against me is living quietly with his mother in the UK, and there’s no intel on any direct threats to the Queen Consort.”

  “I know the rest of the team aren’t taking it really seriously, but I trust your instincts, Quincy. If you need anything from me, just say.”

  It meant a lot to Quincy that Clay would say that. At least she had one ally. “I appreciate that, Clay. Between you and me, I have someone looking into it. A former military intelligence officer, who was a good friend. She’s making enquires and tracking the messages.”

  “Great. No one’s getting past us, boss. If we’re out on an engagement and something happens. I’m ready to follow your lead.”

  “Thank you, Clay.”

  “So what are you doing this afternoon?” Clay asked.

  Quincy started to laugh softly. “Something that will be a great challenge. Teaching Holly to ride.”

  ***

  “Quin, I don’t want to do this. Let me down,” Holly said.

  Holly had been terrified when Quincy took her over to the stables to meet the horse she had picked out for her. Holly was expecting a pony like Teddy had been on, not this gargantuan beast.

  At the start she refused point-blank to mount, but eventually Quin persuaded her to at least walk down to the training ring with the horse and see how she felt. Now she was up on its back, and her life was flashing before her eyes.

  “Quincy, let me down. This horse is a giant,” Holly pleaded.

  Quincy had hold of the reins and was patting the horse’s neck. “I’ll let you down if you really want, but I thought you could at least have a trot around the ring, see if you get used to it. The stable staff assure me Honey is a very tame girl, and she’s not that big. Not as big as mine.”

  Holly could see how important this was to Quincy. She wanted to take her out riding, have a picnic, and light a fire. To do that, Holly had to ride.

  “Honey? Is that her name?” Holly said.

  “Yes. Give her a pat and talk to her. This isn’t a car you’re driving. It’s a highly intelligent animal. Let it know you care.”

  Holly held on to the pommel of the saddle with one hand, and with the other scratched behind the horse’s ear. “Hi, Honey. I’m really scared, but I hope you will take care of me.”

  Honey whinnied. “You see?” Quincy smiled. “Honey likes you.”

  “Hmm, we’ll see.”

  Quincy started to lead them around the training ring, and Holly held on with all the strength she had.

  Quincy slowed and bowed her head. “Afternoon, Your Majesty.”

  Holly was so focused on her fear, that she hadn’t noticed Bea was standing at the side of the training circle.

  “Afternoon. How is she doing, Quincy?” Bea said, grinning.

  Holly scowled at her, and Quincy said, “She’s doing well, ma’am.”

  “I hate this, Bea. Honey here is a giant,” Holly said.

  “Oh, be brave, Holls. You can do it,” Bea said.

  “I don’t see you ever riding.” Holly grasped the reins tighter as Quincy led off the horse again.

  Bea winked at her. “I don’t need to ride a horse. I ride in carriages.”

  “Bitch,” Holly said jokingly, and Bea just laughed.

  ***

  That evening Holly was getting her wish to cut Quincy’s hair. Her bravery with the horse and persistence had persuaded Quincy. After they ate dinner together, she sent Quincy to the shower to wash her hair and told her to wear something other than a shirt, while she set up to cut.

  Holly pulled a chair away from the kitchen table, and every muscle in her body ached. “Ouch!”

  “You’re going to be even sorer tomorrow, Holly.”

  Holly looked up, saw Quincy at the top of the stairs, and stopped breathing. Quincy was standing on the stairs, in shorts, a sleeveless T-shirt, and bare feet, with a towel around her neck. She had never seen Quincy so casual or seen her bare arms or legs. They were muscular, but lithe, just right in Holly’s eyes, and her wet hair made her even sexier.

  She was a bloody Adonis.

  Quincy walked down the remaining stairs and lifted the chair for her. “Where do you want this?”

  Holly took a breath and tried to regain her senses. “Um, just next to the table where my kit box is.”

  She followed Quincy over, still feeling her aches and pains, but also some new aches and needs. Her mind kept picturing Quincy’s body lying on top of hers, and her hands touching her.

  “Is everything okay, Holly? Is this okay?” Quincy pointed at her T-shirt.

  Holly noticed it had a high neckline so as to hide Quincy’s burn scars. Everything about Quincy came back to the scars and the pain she’d gone through. Holly wished she could kiss every scar and show Quincy that love could heal the pain.

  Did she just say love? You’re crazy, Holls.

  “I’m fine. Sit.” Holly took Quincy’s towel and shook it out, then wrapped it around her shoulders. As she did she inhaled the scent of Quincy, fresh from the shower, and the gorgeous smell of Quincy’s cologne. It made her want to bury her face in Quincy’s neck, and kiss and bite it.

  It was such a strong urge that she let go of Quincy and turned away, pretending to sort through her scissors in her kit box.

  “Holly? You will keep it simple, won’t you? Nothing like Story St. John, please?”

  That comment made Holly laugh and regain her control. “I promise. You’re not a Story.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” Quincy wasn’t sure what Holly meant by that, but she had to know.

  Holly walked to her with scissors and comb. “What?”

  “Not being like Story St. John,” Quincy said.

  Holly stood in front of her and started to comb her wet hair. “No, it’s not. I like you just as you are, Stompy.”

  Quincy’s spirits soared, and as Holly cut her hair and ran her fingers through it, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the peaceful feeling. Normally when she closed her eyes, Quincy was bombarded by bad movies in her head, but not when Holly touched her. Holly soothed her demons, and she greedily soaked up her attention.

  After Holly had snipped for a while, she said, “Head up, let me see you.”

  Quincy opened her eyes and watched as Holly checked all the lengths of her hair. Her eyeline just happened to be at Holly’s cleavage, and as Holly bent over, Quincy got a teasing look. Holly’s breasts were soft and round. Holly wasn’t skinny—she had a gorgeously proportioned body, with lush hips and thighs that made Quincy crazy.

  Then Holly looked her right in the eyes, while her fingers stroked though her hair.

  “You have the most beautiful blue eyes, Quincy,” Holly said breathily.

  Quincy didn’t quite know what to say to that. She’d never had such a compliment before, and she was caught in Holly’s gaze.

  Holly’s lips were parted, and she wet them with the tip of her tongue. Quincy felt lust like she never had before. She wanted to pull Holly onto her lap and suck on Holly’s teasing wet tongue.

  “Do you remember when I kissed you, Quin?” Holly asked.

  “Yes.” Quincy remembered every second of that kiss.

  “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” Holly said.

  Was Holly trying to gauge whether Quincy would welcome another? “I’m glad you did. It was my first kiss.” Holly stood up sharply and the moment was gone. Had she said the wrong thing?

  “I’ll just put some wax through your hair, and you can look at it in the mirror.”

  “Did I say something wrong?” Quincy said.

  “No, no, not at all,” Holly said, as she vigorously waxed and styled her hair.

  That obviously meant she had. Why would her first kiss be a bad thing?

  “Go and look in the mirror.”

  Quincy got up and walked over to the mirror hanging above the
fireplace. She looked in the mirror and found a thoroughly modern haircut looking back at her.

  Holly came up behind her. “What do you think?”

  It was nice and short, just how she liked it, but choppy on top, with messy spikes going in all different directions.

  “I think Clay will approve. I’m finally modern,” Quincy said.

  Holly stepped closer and leaned her head against Quincy’s shoulder, while looking in the mirror. “But do you like it? It’s not Story St. John, like I promised.”

  Quincy laughed. “No, it’s not Story St. John. I like it. Honestly. It ruffles me up a bit, just like you said.”

  “Great.” Holly was full of smiles and seemed back to normal after their little blip. “I’m so glad you trusted me to do it.”

  Quincy turned to Holly and took her hand. “I trust you. I wouldn’t let anyone else as close.”

  She hoped that would convey how much she cared about Holly. She was not good at these kinds of relationships, or any relationships. Quincy didn’t know how else to say she wanted something, something more with Holly.

  “I know. I understand you more than you realize,” Holly said enigmatically.

  “Do you?”

  Holly smiled and nodded. “Why don’t we eat dessert on the couch, and then paint some toy soldiers? It’s fast becoming my perfect evening.”

  “Model soldiers,” Quincy corrected her with a smile. “Nothing would make me happier.”

  She knew in that moment that Holly and no one else understood her and made her happy.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Holly left the pool house as soon as Quincy left to have a meeting with the protection squad. She had to talk to Bea. Last night had left her reeling. She was feeling more and more for Quincy and had almost told her, but then Quincy had to go and reveal that the kiss they had shared was Quincy’s first.

  Was Quincy’s apparent interest in her real, or would it be just her first experience of many? She’d given her heart once and had it broken, and she couldn’t take it again.

  Holly rang the bell and waited for the housekeeper. Last night she had lain awake and listened to Quincy’s tortured dreams. Every moan or shout hurt her deep inside, and she had to physically stop herself from going to Quincy, but she knew Quincy would be embarrassed, and she didn’t want to frighten her away just as she had gotten her to open up.