The Royal Treatment: A Crown Jewels Romantic Comedy, Book 1

by Melanie Summers

“You won’t.” I slip my hand into hers and it feels so natural there—like it’s always been my hand to hold.

  “But… what if I do?”

  I shrug. “Then I’ll be out the cost of a very nice house.”

  She starts doing that Lamaze breathing thingy again, and I’m glad I didn’t tell her the truth.

  When we arrive at the grand entrance to the ballroom, I look down at her. “You all right?”

  She nods but looks terrified.

  “You’ll be fine. I promise.” I squeeze her hand. “I’ll be with you the entire time. Plus, you’ll be by far the most stunning woman in the room.”

  Thirty

  Champagne Toasts & Cheaply-Made Expensive High Heels

  Tessa

  Is this really happening? Am I walking into the ball on the arm of a crown prince? Wearing a necklace that I’m sure would solve all my financial problems for life? Did he just say that he’s hoping I’ll fall for him? Or is this some very strange, wonderful drug trip?

  Perhaps it is. Oh, what if they’ve drugged me, and now they’re actually leading me to the dungeon to chop off my head, but I think it’s this wonderful, perfect, magical evening instead? But I don’t feel drugged. I feel somehow more awake than I ever have. Everything about this is so vivid—the brightly lit grand ballroom filled with at least a thousand people in beautiful gowns and smart-looking tuxes. The scent of the huge flower arrangements on top of each of the round tables. The sea of ivory tablecloths and matching ivory chairs set against the enormous shiny black and white checked floor.

  I hear our names being announced over the speakers. “His Royal Highness, Prince Arthur, and Ms. Tessa Sharpe.”

  Polite clapping comes from around the room. People are smiling at us. Well, some are scowling at me, mostly women, but some men, too. My heart pounds so loudly that the sounds of the room dull to the background. The music, the clink of glasses, people speaking in hushed tones. I’ve just been handed a glass of champagne, and it feels cool on my tongue. Bubbly and delicious.

  “Drink up. You look like you could use it,” Arthur says.

  And when I look into his eyes, I relax completely. The sincerity on his face tells me everything will be okay. And I believe him.

  Then the onslaught of greeters come forward, shaking the prince’s hand and bowing. Wishing him well. Some greet me also; others either glance at me then move on, or ignore me altogether. This goes on for quite a few minutes. I down the champagne. It’s whisked away and another one appears in my hand without me being fully aware of how it happened. Then the music stops, and the room goes silent. I look up to the stage where the small orchestra sits, waiting as the King stands before the microphone.

  “I would like to welcome you all here tonight. We are here to celebrate a great achievement, one that very few nations on this earth can boost. Eight hundred years of peace, eight hundred years of being one people with one purpose. I would like to invite my son to say a few words on behalf of our family. As the country’s future king, it is only right that he speak on this auspicious occasion.”

  Applause fills the room, and Arthur whispers to me, “Sorry. Just a bit of business to attend to, then I’m all yours.”

  I watch him stride to the stage and everything about him says leader. And he’d be a good one, at that. When he reaches the microphone, he finds me in the crowd and smiles, and I feel like I’m the only one in the room.

  “Good evening, everyone. Thank you all for coming. It is our honour to welcome you all to our home to share in this event. Well, not everyone. I see the Prime Minister’s turned up.”

  A burst of laughter fills the room, and Arthur gives them his ‘hand in the cookie jar’ grin.

  “I only jest, of course, Jack. We’re happy you would come to celebrate with us. As Prime Minister, your position is every bit as important as ours in ensuring a fair, just society in which the voices of the people are heard. I know that there’s been a lot of speculation in the past few days about how my family is managing the news of the referendum, and I’d like to fill you in, because as your sometimes-not-so-humble servants, we owe you the truth. I’m not going to stand here and tell you that we welcome the referendum. That would be a pile of horseshit, and you’d all know it.

  “It’s been a tough few days, but as a friend pointed out to me, change is always hard, and the threat of being downsized will always make one feel… well… threatened. We were shocked to learn of the Prime Minister’s inexplicable desire to oust us after we backed his bid for leadership. The trust that we once shared has not been honoured, and I would like you to think about that as you go to the polls in a few weeks. For once a man proves he will break trust in one situation, it is highly likely that he will do so in other situations, as well.

  “But the referendum isn’t what my father, my sister, and I should be focusing on right now. It’s losing the faith of the people that should be—and is—more troubling, because our low approval ratings show that we haven’t been listening to you, and that is wrong. Were we in touch with the needs, wants, and problems of the very people who live and work here, and make our nation what it is, you wouldn’t be ready to kick us out. And that’s on us. We’ve been closed off for a long time, carrying on with business as usual, while you have been growing and changing, and in a lot of cases, struggling.

  “As you know, I have recently invited Tessa Sharpe to live in the palace and to observe our every move. I was hoping that I could convince her that the nation needs us. But instead, she seems to have convinced me that we haven’t been acting in a way that warrants your continued support.”

  I look around and see the surprised faces around the room, including the King’s. A sense of pride swells in my chest. Arthur finds me in the crowd again and smiles, then goes on.

  “On this remarkable occasion, it is our duty to pause and reflect on Avonia’s history. I have spent the last few days thinking about the original purpose of a monarch, you know, back eight hundred years ago, when it all began here. Yes, it was about power and money, of course, but there was also the aspect of offering protection for the nation and its people.

  “King Edward’s ability to raise a large military was a source of comfort for many, after years of both civil war and invasion. Having a king who could hold the line in the face of attack allowed the people to feel secure and get on with their lives without the constant worry of raids from neighbouring armies. By all accounts in history, he was a good ruler. Like a good father, Edward was fair, wise, and willing to fight for his people. Legend has it that he died on the battlefield when the Scots tried to invade back in 1226. He didn’t just send his men out, but went himself to hold the wall.

  “He should be our inspiration today as we of the House Langdon consider our future. Wisdom, fairness, and bravery should be the cornerstone of this family, and I intend to make it so, as we start our next century together. I stand before you today, committing to those principles, and promising to serve the people of Avonia through all the storms that may come our way. If, and when, I am given the privilege to take the throne, I promise you, I shall not only listen to you and be accountable to you, but I shall hold the wall.”

  The applause is nothing short of thunderous. I tear up as people all around the room rise to their feet. He grins down at me and nods at various people in the crowd until the ovation ends. “Now, let’s get on the with the party. Drink up, eat up, and let’s dance, because eight hundred years is a hell of an accomplishment.”

  Arthur bows, then walks past his father, off the stage, and makes his way to me, shaking hands the entire way down the aisle. When he finally gets to me, he holds out his hand. “May I have the pleasure of your company for the first dance?”

  I blush like a school girl as he leads me out onto the center of the dance floor. The orchestra starts up. Arthur presses one hand to my back and holds my hand with the other one, with a loose but firm grip. “Do you waltz?”

  My heart is pounding, and I’m trying very hard not
to notice the two thousand eyes trained on us as he starts to move. “Poorly.”

  “Well, I’m glad I spent all those years in Prince Charm School then, because I can make anyone look good.” He gives me a little wink, and I relax and let myself go as he glides us around the floor.

  “You were amazing,” I say. “Absolutely perfect.”

  “That’s only because I’ve had the perfect woman to show me what the people needed to hear.” He dips me, and my heart flutters. “One who helped me get my head out of my regal arse.”

  We dance together for two songs before an older woman in a bright pink gown cuts in. I step to the back of the room and pour myself a punch. I feel a little like a wallflower, standing alone at the punch table, drumming my fingers on my glass to the beat, but no one else is watching me now that I’m not with Arthur.

  I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I turn to see two young men grinning at me. “You’re the Shock Jogger girl, right?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Told you!” says the tall one. “Pay up, loser.”

  “Fine.” The shorter one gives him a ten, then grins at me. “How much did that hurt? Getting shocked like that? It looked bloody painful.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

  They both laugh, then the short one says, “Can we get a picture with you?”

  “Why not?” I smile politely.

  When they’ve finished with me, they walk away, and I make a beeline for the terrace. I suddenly feel very much out of place, and I can feel a thousand sets of eyes on me right now, and not one of them belongs to the man I need to see right now. He seems to have disappeared.

  As I am passing the bar, I see a group of very regal-looking women pointing to me and whispering to each other. I give them a little nod. And then it happens. My left heel snaps off, and my foot slams against the floor. I watch helplessly as the heel spins out onto the dance floor.

  Yup. That’s what I needed right now. The humiliation of a heel-break. I lift my left foot onto my toes and try to walk out without doing the whole ‘up-down’ walk, but it’s no use. My right heel is too high for me remain level. I hear a burst of laughter behind me as I walk out the door. Can this night be done?

  Thirty-One

  Shiny Crowns & Pinky Toes

  Arthur

  I am outside walking through the garden with my grandmum, but in my mind, I’m back in the ballroom with Tessa.

  “You’re awfully quiet, Arthur. What’s racing around in that mind of yours?” She pats my arm with her hand.

  “Sorry, Grandmum, were you saying something?”

  “Yes, I was starting to tell you how proud you’ve made me. You should really listen up because I may not have many more chances to fill your head full of compliments.”

  I glance down at her and my stomach drops. She looks so frail this evening, even though she’s smiling. Her skin has become so crinkled and translucent, it’s as though she might at any moment crack into dust. “Don’t say that. You’re going to be around for a long time.”

  “Yes, of course I am. I meant that you so seldom take the opportunity to impress me.”

  Ouch. I’m pretty sure the Dowager Countess Violet Crawley from Downton Abbey was based on my grandmother. She has every bit as much snark. “You know what? You’ve never been the stereotypical grandmother. The type who bakes cookies and thinks your grandchildren can do no wrong.”

  “What would be the point of that?” she asks. “Besides, you’ve got the rest of the world to pump up your already sizable ego.”

  “Well, thank you.”

  “You’re quite welcome. Now, I want to tell you something, and I need you to keep your mind on what I’m saying, rather than letting it wander back to that lovely young woman with whom you’re so obviously sleeping.”

  “Grandmum, we’re not—”

  “Give me a little more credit than that, Arthur. I may be as old as Jesus, but I’m not thick in the head.”

  She stops at a stone bench and starts to sit down. I try to help her, but she waves my hand away.

  “Stubborn old mule.”

  “Foolish young goat.”

  I flop down next to her and chuckle. “So, what do you need to tell me?”

  “I made a number of mistakes in my life, Arthur. One of which was allowing your grandfather to raise your father with very little input from me.” She sighs. “At the time, I believed it was just how things had to be. I didn’t know the first thing about how to rule a nation. Back then, wives yielded to their husbands, not like today, when more often than not, the men rarely have any say when it comes to their offspring.

  “Anyway, had I been stronger, I would have followed my instincts and insisted on having an equal hand in your father’s upbringing. Something more balanced, with a greater emphasis on the importance of human connection and what was once considered feminine—feelings, compassion, empathy—those types of things.”

  She stops and stares at the palace for a moment, and I’m not sure if she’s forgotten why we’re out here, or if she just needs a minute to think. Just when I’m sure she’s got dementia, she turns back to me, her eyes watery. “We messed up, Arthur. We messed up very badly, and your father has wound up mistaking ruthlessness for strength. He’s been a grave disappointment as a son, a king, and a father. Cutting himself—and the family—off from the people, disregarding their concerns. I’m afraid he’s to go down as the Marie Antoinette of Avonia.”

  “I doubt that very much. In his entire life, I don’t think he’s ever offered anyone cake.”

  “Right you are. He’s far too selfish to do even that, isn’t he?” she asks. “He was awful to Cecily. Just awful. No wonder she...” She stops and shakes her head. “If I had realized how delicate your mother was, I never would have selected her.”

  “You couldn’t have known she would—”

  “But I should have been paying attention. She was so dreadfully unhappy.” Her voice shakes. “He never looked at her, never spoke to her. Just pretended she wasn’t there unless she gave him reason to berate her, which seemed to happen with an alarming regularity. It was a miracle to us that they even produced one heir, let alone two.”

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.” Because I do not want to think about my parents producing heirs, thank you very much.

  “Yes, I bloody well do. The family is in trouble, and it’s because of the piss poor job your grandfather and I did raising a king.” She lets go of my hand and points to me. “But you, you, my dear boy, can save the monarchy. I saw it tonight when you were speaking. You won over that crowd, and believe me, before you got up on that stage, half that room was filled with enemies. You need to lead this family to victory.”

  “But I’m not the leader of this family.”

  “A title doesn’t encourage others to follow. It’s the things you spoke of tonight—wisdom, bravery, and a fair mind. You’ve got all three in spades, my boy. You just have to let people see it.”

  “I promise I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “I know you will. I just wanted you to know that I believe in you.”

  I feel a lump in my throat and have to look up at the sky for a second to stop from becoming emotional. What the hell is wrong with me lately? First with Tessa, now with Grandmother.

  “We may be facing an uphill battle, but at least we can be grateful that your father didn’t pay any attention to you when you were growing up. If he had, you may have ended up being a real horse’s arse, too.”

  I burst out laughing.

  “Are you offended?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “Too bad. I was hoping to shock you. I’ve spent eighty-four years being prim and proper and bored out of my fucking mind. I intend to go out with a bang.”

  I lower my face and give her a light peck on the forehead. “Good for you. I hope the bang lasts a very long time.”

  “Me, too,” she says. “But just in case I’m not here to guide you, I want you to conti
nue what you started tonight. Let your heart lead you. Always find your humanity and look for it in others. If you and that Royal Watchdog can find yourselves in bed together, you can make peace with anyone. Including the Prime Minister. And the people.”

  My mouth drops to my knees. “How long have you known who Tessa was?”

  “From the first night she was here. I have no idea why, but everybody seems to think I don’t watch the news.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because it’s so much more fun to let you all think you can put one over on me. Easier, too. Do you know how many things I get out of by pretending to be feeble and confused?”

  I laugh and she joins in, resting her head on my shoulder. When it’s over, she says, “We should get back. I’m sure your young lady is wishing you were with her.”

  I stand and offer her my hand. This time she takes it and lets me help her up. We link arms and stroll back toward the castle in the warm early summer’s evening.

  “You’ll be a wonderful king, Arthur. Fight for what’s rightfully yours, and once you’re wearing that crown, I promise it will have an entirely new sheen.”

  “Thank you, Grandmum. You know, you’ve always been my favourite in the family.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re supposed to say I’m your favourite, too.”

  “You want me to lie?”

  “Yes, I suppose I do.”

  “Too damn bad.” She laughs. “Now, about your Tessa. You’re going to have to fight for her, too, because in order for you to become the man I know you can be, you’re going to need someone of her strength and intelligence by your side. Not to mention someone to laugh with...”

  “Oh, I don’t… I think… She’s not—”

  “Poppycock. She’s perfect for you. She’s precisely the one you need. Now, man up, and make her yours.”

  As we approach the palace, I see Tessa standing on the far side of the terrace alone, staring up at the sky. Even from this distance, she takes my breath away. I have to fight the urge to abandon my grandmother and run to her.