by Jenny Frame
Cammy appraised her and gave a quirky smile. “Aye. You look fine, lassie. The Queen is very lucky. I would put on a warm jacket though. It’s a bit cold here if you’re not used to it.”
Bea walked over to her wardrobe and got out a green country raincoat. “I did notice it looked a bit gloomy outside. They’re really going to cook and eat outdoors in this?”
“Aye, it’s often been said that the royal family would go out in weather you wouldn’t put a dog out in.”
Bea chuckled at Cammy’s colourful description and thought back to what her mother said about Balmoral being a testing ground for new members. I hope I pass. “They seem to love it up here.”
“They are outdoors sorts of people, and Her Majesty especially, with her military background, enjoys being out in the fresh air and being active.”
Her mind flashed back to last night and the energy George had displayed, tiring her out completely. “Yes, she does have a lot of energy.”
Cammy smiled. “If you’re ready?”
“Yes, of course. Come, Rexie.” Her new best friend bounded after her.
Bea walked down the stairs leading to the entrance hallway. It was busy with staff going back and forth to the Land Rovers with tables, chairs, and picnic baskets. Then she caught sight of George, talking and organizing the outing with her family and staff. As if sensing her coming down the stairs, George turned and smiled up at her, wearing similar Highland dress to Cammy.
George came to meet her at the bottom of the stairs and offered her hand. She took it and curtsied to her Queen, while Rexie wandered off to meet up with the other dogs.
“Hello, my darling. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, Your Majesty, but what on God’s green earth are you wearing?”
George looked down at her outfit. “What? You mean my kilt? The family always wears tartan and kilts when we’re here—well, not Theo, he thinks it’s too old fashioned. It’s part of the way we do things here.”
Bea looked round and all the male members of the family were similarly dressed to the Queen. The older female members had tartan skirts and country jackets, although Vicki was dressed similar to herself.
“Do you not like it?”
Bea saw the worried look on George’s face and immediately wanted to reassure her. “Oh no, I just wasn’t expecting it, but you look rather handsome in it, actually.”
George kissed her cheek and smiled. “Excellent. Well, let’s go and have some fun, shall we?”
George insisted on driving Bea and herself down to the picnic spot, which sat idyllically on the River Dee. As they drove, Bea sneaked her hand over to George’s bare leg and softly stroked her hard muscled thigh.
“I can see the benefits of the kilt, Your Majesty,” Bea said mischievously.
George grabbed the teasing hand before it could creep any further up her thigh. “My darling, as much as I love you to touch me, I am liable to drive us into a tree if you don’t stop.”
Bea stuck her tongue out. “Spoilsport.”
George smiled indulgently back.
“So tell me about your outfit then. Which tartan is this?”
“This is Royal Stewart. There are different versions for different occasions, but this one is Hunting Stewart. It has muted colours so you don’t look too garish while hunting.”
“So why do you wear the Stewart tartan when you are Buckinghams?” Bea asked.
“We are related to the House of Stuart through my ancestor, Queen Victoria. The Stuarts were kings of both Scotland and England, so that entitles us to use that as our family tartan. We also have a Balmoral tartan, but you need the express permission of the sovereign to wear it.”
Bea smiled cheekily. “Oh, and what would happen if I wore it without your permission? Would you punish me, Your Majesty?”
George’s eyes widened and she gulped audibly. “We’re in danger of crashing into that tree again with that sort of talk.”
“Oops. I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise. What is Cammy’s then? And what is that funny hat she’s wearing with the bobble on top?”
“The captain’s family tartan is Cameron, of course, and the funny hat, as you call it, is a glengarry—it’s traditional to wear one if you have a military background. I wear them with some of my Scottish regiment uniforms with a feather added, because I am a chieftain.”
“I wonder what my tartan would be.”
“Do you have any Scottish blood in you, my darling?”
“Yes,” Bea said excitedly, “my grandma was Scottish.”
George smiled broadly. “Granny will be pleased. She is very proud of our family’s Scottish blood. What was your grandma’s name? We can check what your tartan would be, and then you could wear it on your dress for the Ghillies Ball.”
“Really? Oh, that would be great. I would feel like one of the natives then. Her name was Buchanan.”
“Excellent, we can ask Granny about Buchanan. She’s a mine of information.”
When they arrived at the picnic area, by the edge of the freshwater loch, George jumped out quickly and moved round to help Bea out of the Land Rover. Seeing that everyone else was otherwise occupied with preparations, George gave her a tender kiss. “I love you, Bea, and I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to have you here to share this. It’s so important to me that you feel like one of the family.”
Bea kissed George’s chin. “I love you too, and your family are lovely people. They’ve made me very welcome.”
George laughed and took her hand, leading her down to the picnic area. “You’re so sweet, my darling.”
“Why?”
“Why? Oh, too many reasons to mention, but one of them is, you’re so short, that you always kiss me on the chin.”
Bea play-hit George on the arm. “I’m not small, you’re just a giant, Your Majesty.”
“Ouch! Don’t hit me, Miss Elliot, you’re so strong.” George play-acted, making them both laugh.
“I’m not that small, am I?”
George put her arm round her shoulders and kissed her head. “Yes, you’re my little cute smout.”
“Wait, what’s a smout?”
She grinned cheekily at Bea and said, “A good Scottish word for a small, shrimp-like person.”
Bea looked at George as if unsure if she should be annoyed or pleased. “Hmm. Smout? It’s cute, I like it. Now kiss me again before your family see us.”
*
Bea had never been to a picnic like this before. The staff had set up everything—tables, chairs, plates, cutlery, even a drinks table with every spirit and beverage that could be needed—and left the family to do everything else themselves. George seemed to be in charge of the old-fashioned charcoal barbecue, with Max assisting, while Queen Sofia and Princess Grace saw to the salad and other side dishes.
Further down the bank, George’s Uncle Bran, Vicki, and Theo were fishing with the help of an estate worker. It was slightly surreal to see these lofty, untouchable people taking part in very ordinary everyday tasks.
Bea was sitting on a folding camp chair beside the Dowager Queen Adrianna.
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it, Beatrice?”
It was in fact chilly by Bea’s standards, but the royals seemed to be made of tougher stuff. “Yes, it’s so picturesque here. I’ve never been in Scotland, although my grandma was Scottish.”
Queen Adrianna beamed. “Really? Oh, that’s wonderful. You are an even better match for our dear George then. My mother was Scottish, and there is a great affinity for all things Scottish in our family.”
“The Queen said to ask you about what my tartan would be. She thought I could wear the colour to the Ghillies Ball. My grandma’s name was Buchanan.”
The Dowager Queen tapped her walking stick against the earth below them, appearing to think very hard. “Hmm. I seem to recall it’s quite a bold tartan with greens and yellow colours, but I will find out from my private secretary. She’s an expert in these sorts of matters.”
“Bea, darling?” George shouted and beckoned her with a big smile.
“Would you excuse me, Ma’am?”
Queen Adrianna patted Bea on the knee. “Of course. It seems Her Majesty can’t do without you, my dear.”
Bea literally skipped over to George. She’d never felt as relaxed as this in a long time, and spending time with George’s family was really fun. “What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”
George put her arm round Bea and pulled her in for a kiss. “Nothing. I just missed you, and perhaps I wanted to show off my cooking skills.”
She rested her head against George’s shoulder, watching the fire burn down and the charcoals burn white. “I didn’t know you had any cooking skills. When does a Queen have to cook?”
“Well, I’ve only ever cooked field rations before during my officer training, and helped my Papa with this, but the head of the family always does the cooking. This is my first year.”
Bea saw a distant, faraway look come over George’s face, and she realized this was yet another thing that reminded her of her loss and of her responsibility.
She bumped George’s hip. “You’ll do very well, Georgie, and if you get stuck, then I’m here to lend a hand. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Thank you. I’m just getting used to that. Having someone to support me, I mean,” George explained.
“I know. It’s a learning process for us both, but I’ll be at your side as long as you want me.”
“Thank you, darling.”
Bea lifted up one of the plates with the finest Aberdeen Angus steaks and said, “Now enough lovey-doveyness, make my food, oh mighty Queen.”
*
George sat with her mother, enjoying a drink after their large meal, watching Bea being taught the rudiments of fly fishing by the head keeper and Queen Adrianna.
“Do you think Granny will ever give up fishing?” George asked her mother with a smile.
“I doubt it. Not as long as she can get a seat by the riverbank. She has always loved it as long as I’ve known her. Your papa said she was even better than your Grandpa Freddie, and now she has inveigled Bea into it, you may never see your young lady again.”
She watched Bea with pride. “She has fit in exceptionally well, don’t you think, Mama?”
Queen Sofia smiled fondly at her doting daughter. “Oh yes, indeed. She’s not a young lady who’s afraid to get stuck in. I think you’ve made a perfect choice. This holiday could have been so melancholy, the first trip to Balmoral without dear Eddie, but seeing you so happy and so much in love has lifted everyone’s spirits.”
George looked seriously at her mother. “You approve then, Mama?”
“I do indeed. When do you intend to make it official?”
“I’m taking her to Loch Muick, to spend the day and night there. I’ve had Cammy make some preparations for me, and I hope to ask her then.”
Her mother stroked her head. “It’s a stunningly romantic spot. You’re a good girl, George, and a dutiful monarch. Eddie would have been so proud.”
George looked over to see her lover casting out the fishing line, only to get it caught in the nearby tree. Theo, Vicki, Max, Granny, and Bea all laughed together, while Uncle Bran was sent to retrieve it.
“I surely hope so, Mama.”
Chapter Thirty
George and Bea set off early the next morning to start their day out at Loch Muick. George wanted as much privacy as possible, and so didn’t want any security with her for the day, but Inspector Lang had insisted on two of his men sitting on surveillance outside the royal lodge by the loch.
George pulled the Land Rover up in front of the house and helped Bea out of the truck. “Here we are, darling. This is Glas Allt Shiel house. It was built by Queen Victoria for the views over the loch. It wasn’t used a great deal after her death, but Papa had it refurbished. It’s not some grand royal residence, more like a comfortable country squire’s home.”
“It looks perfect. Are we still on Balmoral estate?”
George walked to the back of the Rover and started getting their bags out. “Yes. We have 49,000 acres on the estate, but this isn’t our personal playground, it’s a working estate. We have grouse moors, forestry, and farmland, as well as managed herds of deer, Highland cattle, and ponies. When the family head back down to London, the estate keeps working, making money for its upkeep and providing jobs.”
Bea held her hands up. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Georgie.”
George dropped the bags and walked over to her. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to think we’re extravagant. This is a private estate, and we finance it ourselves. I just wanted you to know that.”
Bea reached up and kissed her on the chin. “I understand. I’m learning and taking on board everything you say. Now just relax.”
“Okay, before we take our things in, I want you to get a taste of what lies ahead.” George pulled her by the hand excitedly, down past a line of trees, and suddenly the view of the loch opened out in front of them.
“Oh, my God, Georgie. This is…it’s stunning.”
George was delighted by Bea’s reaction and very proud that she could share this with her. Bea had told her how she and her sister had been city girls, never venturing out of London, so it was wonderful to see she appreciated the dramatic, glacier-scarred land. “I’m so glad you like it. Come on, I’ll put our things inside and get our day started.”
As she walked off Bea shouted, “Are you sure you won’t be cold?”
George looked down at her army issue cargo shorts and T-shirt and smiled. “Don’t you worry. I’m well used to the Aberdeenshire climate. I’ll just be a few minutes.”
She put their belongings into the house and set off to start their walk. They walked hand in hand along the loch trail, George carrying a backpack with all the things they needed for the day. It was a bright day, and after a couple of miles, Bea dispensed with her jumper, leaving her in a tight-fitting dark blue camisole, to match three-quarter-length jeans. George took every opportunity to place an arm round her bare shoulders or cast her eyes down for a nice view of her breasts.
The snow-peaked tips of the surrounding mountains slipped steadily into slate greys and then muted browns and greens of the grasses and heather further down, ending in the calm glassy blackness of the loch.
“I can’t believe how quiet and peaceful it is, Georgie. I’ve never experienced a place like this. It has such an ancient atmosphere.”
“This is why I love it here, Bea.” George stopped and turned Bea towards the loch. She placed her hands on Bea’s shoulders and whispered, “Close your eyes, clear your mind, and tell me what can you hear.”
“Birds singing, water splashing, the breeze whistling through the trees.”
“Peace. That’s what I hear, peace.”
George hugged her from behind and said, “You can see why Balmoral is so special to me. After living in London and touring about the world most of the year, to come here in the summer is something special. I can feel my cares leaving as soon as I arrive, and to have you here makes it all the more special.” George then whispered in her ear, “There’s a way to experience this, that’s even more special though. Well, I think so. Do you want to see?”
“Yes,” Bea said excitedly.
George took her hand and they both walked on, following the trail to a small brick building, halfway round the loch. “This is the boathouse. I thought we could go out on the loch and eat our lunch out there.”
Bea looked a little worried. “A boat? Out there? I’ve never been on a boat.”
“Don’t look so worried, darling, it’s just a dinghy, nothing too big, and I am an excellent sailor.” George gave her a wink and then opened up the big double doors of the building.
There were boats of different sizes in there, from a few bigger ones down to simple rowing boats, but George headed for the big one with a sail, which was down at the moment.
“That’s a dingh
y?” Bea asked with surprise.
George looked up and said, “Yes, a simple two-man dinghy with a sail. You can’t really have anything much bigger in a loch like this.”
She saw the tense look on Bea’s face and walked up to her, taking her hands. “You will be absolutely fine. Remember, I can sail huge battleships, so I think we’ll be safe enough in this. If you don’t like it, we can come back in.”
Bea nodded. “I trust you.”
George gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and went off to bring out the dinghy. She wheeled it out on a boat trailer, down to the water.
*
Bea watched the play of the strong muscles in George’s shoulders, arms, and legs as she set up the boat. Now I feel much better about sailing.
Once they got out onto the water, it wasn’t so intimidating. They sailed into the middle of the loch and got out the sandwiches Cook had packed them. “This is wonderful, Georgie. I’ve never done anything like this. You’re filling my life with experiences I’d never thought I’d have.”
George smiled brightly. “I hope I can always give you a rich and loving life, my darling, but I have one more thing I think you might like.”
She put away the rubbish and left over sandwiches and brought a rectangular plastic food box out of the backpack. “Would you like dessert?”
“Oh, you know I would.” Bea smiled.
George moved to sit on the floor of the boat, her head resting against the boat seat. “Come and lie with me.” She patted the space between her legs.
Bea was unsure. “Will the boat not tip over if I move?”
“No, it’ll take more than your little smout body to turn over this boat. Come on, trust me.” George beckoned her with a crooked finger.
Bea moved gingerly over to her, and lay back onto George’s chest.
“Remember I said there was one thing better than the peace you heard?”