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The Royal Wedding: A Crown Jewels Romantic Comedy, Book 2

Page 23

by Melanie Summers

All-Knowing Grandmothers

  Arthur

  It’s mid-morning by the time I make it back to the hospital to see Gran. Last night, when I saw her, she was sleeping soundly the entire time, so I left without being able to speak with her. When I arrive at her room, it’s so full of flower arrangements it’s hard for me to find my dear, sweet, snarky little Grandmum. But when I do she’s already sitting up, reading the newspaper.

  “How are you feeling?” I say, giving her a light kiss on the cheek.

  She smiles up at me. “I’d be much better if they’d let me go home already. The food here is atrocious.”

  “I’ll have your meals brought to you from the palace.”

  “That would be lovely, thank you.” Her face grows serious. “Now, what’s this shit about you canceling the wedding?”

  “Where did you hear that? The official announcement won’t be made until this afternoon.”

  “I have my sources. It’s a good thing I needed emergency heart surgery, so it could be put off until I could talk you out of it.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that right now, Gran. You need to stay calm.”

  “Then you’d better start talking or I swear I’ll have another heart attack just to spite you.”

  “You would, wouldn’t you?” I let a half-grin escape my lips then I sigh, remembering that Tessa and I are over. “I’m afraid Tessa has come to the decision that she does not wish to marry me.” My tone is formal and distant. I could just as easily be giving the weather report. “It wasn’t my choice, but I must respect her wishes.”

  My grandmother’s ice-blue eyes fix on me. “What did you do?”

  “Why must I have done anything?”

  She raises one eyebrow at me. “You’re a man. Men tend to bugger things up.”

  “I kept something from her that I shouldn’t have. I also was a little harsh with her about that whole night club incident. I also refused to answer when she asked for a full explanation of something I’ve been doing—but it was for her own protection.”

  “Oh, Arthur, come here.” She gestures with one finger. “Closer, dear.”

  When I lean down over her bed, she reaches up and slaps my cheek. I pull back, straightening up out of reach. “Ouch. That was hardly necessary.”

  “That’s to remind you to stop being a chauvinist.”

  “I’m not—”

  “You certainly are. You’re doing exactly what I warned you about, and you can see where it’s gotten you. So go find her, tell her the truth, then stop trying to hide the world from her!”

  “I can’t.” I shake my head. “I told her I wouldn’t beg.”

  “So bloody what?”

  “So, I have to have my pride.”

  “Bollocks. That’s just a cowardly excuse. If a little begging is the difference between a lifetime of happiness with the right woman and being alone like a fool, it’s time to strap on some kneepads.”

  The door opens and Brooke walks in, wearing a lab coat over her dress. “Hi. I came as soon as I heard.” She hurries over to my grandmum and gives her a kiss on each cheek.

  My gut tightens as I watch her, and wonder if she was in on the whole #BrookeIsBetter thing the entire time. “You came? From Africa?”

  She nods and smiles back at me. “Of course, I did. You left that message that you wanted to see me as soon as possible, and I tried but couldn’t reach you. Then when I heard about the Princess Dowager, I realized what it was about and rushed straight to the airport.”

  “I don’t think you do know what this is about.”

  Her smile fades.

  “Brooke, we need to talk.”

  Twenty-Five

  T-Minus Two Hours

  Tessa

  “Tessa? Has Arthur found you yet?” Princess Florence is propped up in the hospital bed, her tiny Yorkie on her lap. Talk about different rules for royals.

  “Um, no. I came alone. I wanted to see you and make sure you’re doing all right.”

  “Oh, this? It’s nothing, I just needed to come in for a little cleaning.” She gestures to the chair next to the bed.

  “You look wonderful. So full of colour.” That may have been stretching it a bit. She looks weak and it’s not just because of the IV attached to her arm.

  “If we count grey as a colour, that is,” she says. “I’m an old, grey mare.”

  “You’re not old. You’re vintage.”

  Laughing, she shakes her head at me. “And you are young, lovely, and full of shit. Now, I understand that you want to call off the wedding. Apparently, you’re not as bright as I gave you credit for.”

  Well, that was a little insulting, wasn’t it? “I’m afraid it’s for the best. I’m not at all what Arthur will need in a queen.”

  “Don’t worry about the queen part. It’s a wife he needs.”

  “Yes, well, in this case I think he needs a wife who can double as an elegant queen.”

  “All couples have their differences. It’s part of the fun. Argue, make up, argue, make up. It’s a hoot if you do it right.” She waves a hand at me. “Now, then, there are some things you need to know about Arthur if you’re going to make this work.”

  “I don’t think you should tell me anything, Your … Arthur and I aren’t going to be able to make this work.”

  “Yes, I absolutely should. I know Arthur’s been a bit of an arse since the engagement, but he’s got good reason for it—well, what he would see as good reason.”

  She stares out the window for a moment. When she turns back to me, her eyes glisten with tears. “His mother’s death affected him more than anyone realizes. Even Arthur himself.”

  Oh, dear. This took a turn I wasn’t expecting. “I assure you I was very careful in my deliberations before making this decision. I know how hard it was for him to let anyone get so close to him.”

  “You don’t know because he never would have told you.” Her eyes bore into mine. “He just shut down completely. Wouldn’t talk about her. I tried very hard to comfort him and to get him to talk about his feelings, but he wouldn’t. Just sat, silently. He would sit in the hall, staring at her painting by the hour. That’s why Winston had all other photos of her removed from the family residences. He couldn’t bear to see his little boy like that. Ill-advised, I know, but he thought it better to remove all signs of her, hoping that Arthur would one day forget.”

  A lump forms in my throat.

  She dabs at her eyes. “Do you know how his mother died?”

  “I think I can guess.”

  “Good, because it wouldn’t be polite to discuss it.” She nods. “When Arthur found out the truth, he blamed himself for it. The day she… he’d been coming down with a fever. I don’t know if you know much about children, Tessa, but they tend to misbehave when they’re getting sick. Arabella was only three months, and little Arthur had been acting out like any five-year-old boy would do when his mother is preoccupied with a new baby. But that day, he told her she was the worst mummy ever and that he hated her face.” Her face crinkles as she tries to fight her tears.

  “Oh, God. That’s awful. I mean, kids say things like that all the time, but for her to…right after…” My eyes fill with tears as I think about how young five years old is. I think of little Knox, and how innocent and naïve he is to the world. In my mind’s eye, I can see Arthur at that age. Small and sad and scared. “Poor Arthur.”

  She reaches out and places her frail hand on mine. Warmth and comfort radiate from her. She says nothing, and when I look at her the pain is obvious. We sit like this for a long while, both grieving for a little boy.

  “He’s carried that with him for a long time now, and it’s time for him to set that burden down. Over the years I’ve tried to help him realize that it wasn’t his fault, but he won’t hear it. So, instead, he’s spent his entire life trying to rescue Arabella and me, and now you. And I know what kind of trouble it’s been causing you in particular. He’s been keeping things from you that you had every right to know.�


  My head snaps back in surprise.

  “Oh, yes, I know everything. Very little gets by me,” she says. “I know my grandson better than anyone and I can tell you he’d never stray. But he’ll also never get rid of his ridiculous savior complex unless he forgives himself for his mother’s death. You need to be the one to help him do that.”

  “I can’t. I wish I could, but—”

  “What? It’s too hard? He’s not worth the effort?”

  Yeesh. She’s tough for someone who just got out of surgery. “No, of course not. I just wouldn’t know how.”

  “By standing up to him. By showing him you’re strong and you won’t be chased away by some idiots who disapprove. By taking him back.”

  “I can’t. It’s too late for us. The palace is making the announcement today.”

  “Then you’d better hurry,” she says with a firm nod.

  My entire body fills with nervous energy. She’s right. I need to go get him back. I stand up and grab my purse. “Do you think he’ll want to?”

  “Of course. He’s absolutely miserable without you. Now, don’t just stand here. Go find him!”

  Twenty-Six

  The Patience Test

  Arthur

  “Rueben, please don’t close the door!” The words spill out of my mouth as the door swings shut in my face. Blocking it with one foot, I say, “One minute. That’s all I ask for.”

  Evi’s voice comes from inside. “What’s going on, Rueben?”

  Rueben turns slightly. “It’s that heartbreaking prince again. I told him she’s not home but he won’t listen.”

  I take advantage of the distraction and press my shoulder to the door to pry it open. “Evi! I just want to know where she is.”

  “Honestly, Rueben, his grandmother has just had a heart attack. Let the poor boy in.”

  Rueben lets go of the door. The momentum from me pushing on it causes it to swing open and me to lose my balance, following the wooden slab as it crashes into the wall. “Thank you, Evi.”

  I straighten myself up and give her a small bow. “Very kind of you.”

  Rueben turns on his heel and walks away, muttering something that sounds like ‘useless feck,’ leaving me standing alone with his wife.

  “I need to find Tessa.”

  “She’s at work.”

  I shake my head. “I was just there. No sign of her.”

  “Nikki’s?”

  “I had Arabella call her. She hasn’t seen her either.”

  Evi snaps her fingers. “Let me text her.”

  She walks down the hall to the kitchen, returning a moment later with her mobile phone and her reading glasses.

  “Thank you, Evi. I know you have no reason to help me.”

  “Sure, I do. My daughter will never be happy again without you.” She opens the bejeweled phone case and starts slowly typing with one finger.

  I stand waiting impatiently, forcing myself not to tap my foot. Using my height to my advantage, I peer at the screen. So far, the only words she’s managed are:

  Tessa, it’s your mother.

  Dear God. She doesn’t even have to include that bit. Of course, she’ll know it’s from her mother.

  “Oh, wait,” she says, deleting everything she’s written. “The kids keep teasing me about not texting properly. I guess you don’t have to say who it is because she’ll already have my number in her contacts.”

  “Right. Hadn’t thought of that.” Yes, I had. Everyone has. Just hand me the phone. Hand it to me so I can text her myself.

  Prince Arthur is here looking for

  “I suppose I don’t need to say Prince, do I?” she asks as she deletes the entire message again.

  “Perhaps, I could just—”

  “You’re so patient, Arthur. My kids are just awful. They keep grabbing the phone from me and doing it for me.”

  “I’d never dream of it.”

  “Such a well-mannered young man.”

  “Yes, well, I did go to Prince Charming school, so…”

  Evi drops the phone to her side and laughs like a kookaburra. I laugh for a second with her, all the while gesturing with my hands for her to lift the phone again.

  Tessa, Arthur is here looking for you. Where are you?

  Push send. Push send.

  But she doesn’t. Instead she looks up at me. “Do you want her to come here? Or should I tell her to meet you somewhere else?”

  My voice takes on a high-pitched quality as I stifle the urge to rip the phone from her hand. “Umm, maybe just send it like that and we’ll wait for a few minutes for her to answer.”

  Using her texting finger, she wags at the air. “Yes. Smart.”

  When she finally pushes the send button, I let out a long puff of air.

  And now we wait.

  She and I stare at each other awkwardly for a second. Evi smiles. “Lovely weather we’re having.”

  “Quite. Yes. Unusually warm for April.”

  “Indeed. How’s your gran?”

  “She’s doing quite well actually. She’s in great spirits.”

  “Excellent.”

  Her phone makes a ping sound and we both turn our attention to it. “Nope. Not her. Grace next door wants to see if I can verse her in Candy Crush.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you play?”

  I shake my head.

  “No, I suppose you wouldn’t have time for that.” She makes a clicking sound with her tongue for about half a minute. “Would you like some tea?”

  “Thank you, no.” I check my watch. I still have two hours before the official announcement is made. Still time to turn this ship around.

  “Oh! Have you tried calling that handsome Xavier? He’ll know where she is.”

  “He’s not answering, which is very odd because they’re meant to have their mobile devices on at all times. Unless…” I clap my hands. “I know where she is.”

  “Where?”

  “She’s at the hospital!”

  Twenty-Seven

  Where in the World is Arthur Landgon?

  Tessa

  I hurry down the long hall to the hospital with Xavier, who is double-timing it in his excitement for me to find Arthur. I turn my mobile on as soon as we get in the car and wait for it to boot up.

  “To the palace!”

  “I know a short-cut,” Xavier says, wrenching open the back door of the car for me.

  Tires screeching, the car pulls out on the road and we zoom off toward my prince. I sit up, hands on the headrest of the passenger seat, watching out the window as Xavier weaves in and out of traffic. “This is rather exciting, isn’t it?”

  “Agreed! You know, you burn two extra calories per minute when your adrenaline is pumping like this.”

  “Do you?” I’m so happy I don’t even mind his fitness facts today. I’m going to find Arthur and I know in my heart that everything will be okay.

  Gravel spins under the tires as the car skids to a stop in front of the palace. I get out and run up the steps as fast as my legs can carry me. One of the pages opens the door and I run into the Grande Hall, stopping when I get there to decide if I should try his office or his apartment.

  A door opens to my left and the king walks out. He stops when he sees me. “Oh, it’s you.”

  I hold my chin high. “Yes, it is. I came by to say that you and your nasty friends won’t be able to chase me off. I have four older brothers and they’re all total shits to me, so I have loads of experience dealing with arseholes. So, you’d better get used to the fact that I’ll be your daughter-in-law. I know that I may not be elegant or graceful or well-born, but I have a kind heart and I’m brave as fuck, and I’ll protect your son with my very life if it’s required, which should count for something.” I take a deep breath. “And you know what else? I’m going to be the person who keeps your family in touch with the people of Avonia, which is something Brooke Beddingfield or any of your other stuffy cronies could never do. And you know what else? I save
d your sorry arse during the referendum, so you should probably just say thank you and welcome me to the sodding family.”

  He stares at me, looking utterly shocked for a moment. My heart pounds in my chest as I wonder what the penalty is for swearing at the king. What if they do have some torture devices hidden in the basement? Shit.

  He rubs his chin with one hand. “I’m going to say something to you I have never said in my life. I may have been wrong about you. You’re tougher than I thought which, frankly, is a job requirement. Also, I think there’s a chance you’ll be good for my son.”

  I blink in surprise, then nod. “You’re bloody well right I will be. Now, where is he so I can tell him we’re back on?”

  King Winston shrugs. “If I had to guess, he’s out looking for you.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” I curtsy then turn and hurry to the door, calling back, “Sorry for all the swearing!”

  When I get outside, Xavier is doing one-armed push-ups off the bottom step.

  “He’s not here!” I shout. “Let’s go!”

  “Where?”

  “I’ll figure it out when we get on the road.”

  I climb back into the car, then remember my phone has been shut off since I went to the hospital. I turn it on and wait impatiently for it to load. Finally, I see a text from my mum.

  “Ha! He’s at my house!”

  “Let’s go!” Xavier glances back at me, smiling in the rearview mirror. “Oh, you may want to put on some lipstick. Do you have a hairbrush in your purse?”

  Apparently, he’s been spending too much time with my mother. His nagging has now extended from fitness to fashion. But, to be fair, he’s right—I’m a bit of a mess. I search through my handbag until I find a comb, some mints, and a tube of lip gloss. By the time we pull onto Abbott Lane, I’m semi-presentable.

  “Hmm. The car’s not here,” Xavier mumbles.

  “What?”

  “I’ll pull up at the house and try to reach Ollie. You run in and see if your mum knows where he went.”

 

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