The Prince: The Young Royals 1

by S. A. Gordon

  “It’s straightforward, Caitlin,” David said, tossing a tabloid newspaper toward her. There she was on the front page, lazing on the grass, beside the headline: PRINCE’S GIRL TAKES THE SUN WHILE COUNTRY MOURNS.

  Caitlin gasped. “I had no idea.”

  “I know,” said David sternly, “but you can see how this looks.”

  Caitlin stood up. “No, David, why don’t you tell me how it looks? I went for a walk. That’s all.”

  “While my father was being laid to rest.”

  “You didn’t want me there, David—what was I meant to do?”

  “Of course I wanted you there.” He was almost shouting there. “But I couldn’t have you there. I thought you understood.”

  “I understood perfectly, David. Did I say I didn’t understand? You’re the one who doesn’t understand. I went for a walk. That’s all. And maybe I was upset that you don’t want to be seen in public with me, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t understand why I couldn’t go to the funeral.”

  “I have no problem with—” He stopped, exhaled loudly and put his hands on his hips.

  “It would have been the story,” he continued, more softly. “If you’d been there—if you’d been seen with me at any time over the last couple of weeks—that would have been the story. Not my father. Not the Queen.”

  “You call her the Queen now?”

  “That’s who she is,” he said simply.

  “She’s your sister, too.”

  He nodded, his face sad, and Caitlin realized that he hadn’t just lost a father when the King died; he felt like he’d lost his sister as well. She wanted to hold him and tell him not to be sad, that everything would be all right, but they were fighting. Weren’t they?

  “She’s the Queen, first and foremost,” he said. “And I serve her. I have to … I have to adjust to that.”

  Caitlin looked at him, comprehending what he meant—even if he didn’t. Not wanting to know what she now knew, and he didn’t. She sighed, quietly, and twisted her hands together.

  “I think I met you at the wrong time,” she said sadly.

  His eyes widened. “What are you saying?”

  “David, there is absolutely no room for me in your life. You asked me to come here so I could be with you at what you knew would be a difficult time, and now you’re upset that someone actually saw me in the country that you invited me to visit. And if I can’t even go for a walk without you getting upset, I don’t think I want to be here.”

  She sighed again then smiled at him, but there was no joy in it. She just wanted him to know that she wasn’t angry.

  “It’s a difficult time,” he said slowly. “But I want you in my life.”

  Caitlin shook her head. “You don’t want me not in your life. There’s a difference.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said, frowning.

  “You want me here when you want me to be here. At other times I’m an inconvenience. It’s the truth, David,” she said as he started to protest. “And it’s not about me—I know that. It would be the case for anyone in this position. But the fact that it’s not about me is also the point.” She sighed again. “I love you. I want to be with you. But there is so much happening to you right now that there isn’t room for anybody, regardless of how much she loves you. I can’t just hang around this place waiting for you to have time for me. That’s no way for me to live—it’s no way for you to live either. And it’s certainly no way to have a relationship.”

  She walked to him and took his hands. “The timing isn’t right for us,” she said, almost whispering. “And that breaks my heart. But I have to go away before my heart breaks more. Staying here with you … what would happen over the next few days? Weeks? Is there any future for us right now? Can you honestly say that there’s any plan for me to fit into your life anywhere? The office is probably hoping that there isn’t. It would make things easier for them, I know. And it would make things easier for you, too, if I wasn’t here. You have enough to think about. Enough to do. To adjust to.”

  She felt a pain—an actual physical pain—at the top of her chest and she gulped air in as tears sprang to her eyes.

  “I love you,” David said. “I don’t have to adjust to that. I know that. I feel that.”

  She blinked away her tears.

  “Don’t go,” he whispered, and she turned back to see him looking at her so intensely that she wondered if she could really make this break from him, but knowing she had to—despite the pain she felt now, despite the pain she knew was coming, it was something she had to do.

  Caitlin shook her head quickly.

  “I need to go, David,” she said, her voice sounding more confident than she felt. “I can’t stay here and continue to risk making things difficult for you. The press … I don’t know enough to avoid that happening again. And I certainly can’t stay inside here indefinitely.”

  She cleared her throat, feeling stronger.

  “And there are things you need to do now. For your sister. For yourself.” She sniffed loudly. “This is really the last thing I thought I’d ever say to you. You’re … you’re amazing. If I’d had any dreams about what an ideal man would be like, you’re it. I guess I just never thought that my ideal man wouldn’t be available to me at the right time. I guess I thought … we could work it out.”

  “We can work it out, my love.” David gripped her hands harder. “I have all the resources in the world at my disposal. We can figure something out.”

  “It’s not about resources, David,” Caitlin said, taking back her hands. “It’s about time. It’s about priorities. You don’t have time for me now and I’m not a priority for you, but I want you to know that I understand why. I do. It’s just not right for me, that’s all.” She tried to smile but didn’t quite make it. “My ideal man is meant to think that I’m his ideal woman, I guess. And I’m not right for you. You need to be with someone who is part of your world already—someone you don’t have to introduce to everything and everyone. Someone who can slot in. There are plenty of women who would be happy to do that for you.”

  “But they’re not you. I want to be with you.” Now David looked distraught, and Caitlin could hardly bear to watch him anymore.

  “The easy way out for me would be to say that I don’t want to be with you,” she said, suddenly finding the floor fascinating. “But it’s not true. I just can’t be with you, and that’s different.”

  Then their eyes locked and she moved hurriedly to take his face in her hands and kiss him. She kissed him as though it was the last time she’d ever see him. She kissed him so that he would never forget her and she would never forget him. She kissed him with all the hopes and dreams in her heart—she let him have them, because she didn’t think she’d need them anymore. They weren’t real now. They had never been real. She’d been so naïve.

  “I’ll always love you,” she said, inches from his face.

  “Don’t go,” he pleaded.

  Caitlin wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I need to go today. Could you help me?”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “But will you?”

  He took her hand—the hand that was messy and wet from her tears—and pressed it to his lips. “I will. But only because I love you too much to want to cause you any more of this pain. Will you promise me something, though?”

  She gazed at him and nodded.

  “This is not the end,” he said. “Once things have settled, I’ll come for you. Will you promise to at least talk to me then?”

  “I’ll … I’ll talk to you. That’s all I can promise.”

  “That’s enough,” he said and he held her—for minutes, for hours, she didn’t know—but once he let her go she was on a plane and flying back to New York, wondering what on earth would become of her now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “I can’t believe you didn’t stop her, David, you are so stupid,” Margaret declared as she stomped around her brother’s apartment while the
ir older sister watched.

  “I couldn’t hold her prisoner, Rita,” said David. “Plus, she already felt imprisoned here. It wasn’t the best way to begin our relationship.”

  “Oh, that’s bullshit!” Margaret cried.

  “Maggie!” said Alix, clucking her tongue. “Language!”

  “Spares not heirs, Your Majesty.” Margaret glared at Alix. “I’m allowed to swear, remember.”

  Margaret kept glaring.

  “Why are you so fired up about this?” said David, looking at his younger sister curiously.

  “Because you’re the one member of the family who was set to have a happy ending—this year, at least—and I wanted that, Day, I wanted you to get the girl. I mean, if Alix can’t have a successful romantic outcome, she needs to live vicariously. And I don’t mind a bit of living vicariously either. Hal and I are so content we’re positively boring.”

  “And last I heard, Alix was doing all right,” David said, turning toward his older sister, who shook her head.

  “Not anymore,” she said quietly.

  “What happened?” said David with concern in his voice.

  “What do you think happened, David? I became a monarch. Jack ran for the hills.”

  “I don’t understand.” David frowned. “You love each other.”

  Alix shot him a look of incredulity. “How is that different to your situation?”

  David’s nostrils flared. “You’d been with Jack longer, for one thing. For another, he already lives here and for yet another, he understands what your life is like. Caitlin would have had to leave her country—leave her whole life—for me. It’s different.”

  “It is,” said Margaret, sighing sadly. “It’s too hard.”

  “Don’t say that,” said Alix under her breath.

  “What?” said Margaret.

  “Don’t say it’s too hard. I don’t want to end up alone. I don’t want David to. That’s too awful to contemplate.” Alix looked stricken. “Tell me it’s not too hard.”

  Margaret moved to hug her sister. “It’s not too hard, darling. It’s just harder. We need to find special people and there aren’t that many of them in the world.”

  “Caitlin’s special,” said David, looking at his hands, avoiding his sisters’ eyes.

  “Yet where is she, David?” Margaret stomped again.

  Alix swallowed. “I’m not sure Jack is,” she said. “Special, I mean.”

  “He loves you, doesn’t he?” said Margaret. “That’s special.”

  “Yes, but as David well knows, it’s not enough. Not for us.” Alix placed a hand against Margaret’s cheek. “I don’t know that it’s enough for anyone, really. But the other demands of our lives, in particular, mean that it’s never enough.”

  “It was enough for Mummy and Papa,” Margaret said hopefully, only to see Alix shake her head.

  “It wasn’t,” said Alix. “It was the foundation but it wasn’t everything. They worked hard at it. And they faltered from time to time. You were too young to realize what was going on, but we …” She looked at her brother. “We remember.”

  David smiled tightly. “They made it, though. Until Mummy died.”

  “And we can make it too,” Margaret said firmly.

  “Of course we can, Rita,” David said brightly. “Of course we can.”

  *

  “I’m never going to have sex again,” Alix complained to David later that night, after Margaret had walked home across the courtyard and while her older siblings were sharing a bottle of their father’s favorite whisky.

  “You’ve gone off sex, then?” David said, his tone flat despite his teasing words.

  “No! I just mean I won’t have the opportunity to have sex again.”

  “Come now, that’s not true,” said David, sloshing more amber liquid into her glass. “Granted, it will be harder for you now—no pun intended.”

  “None taken,” said Alix, raising her glass.

  “But I do think you should talk to Jack.”

  Alix pursed her lips. “He can barely look me in the eye now. He calls me ‘Your Majesty’ like he has a nervous tic—he won’t even call me ‘ma’am’ anymore.”

  “It would be strange for him,” David said. “Just give him some time to adjust to the fact that your job has changed a bit. On the brighter side—if you take up with him again, at least you don’t have to worry about Papa getting upset.” Now it was David’s turn to raise his glass.

  “You need to go after Caitlin,” Alix said softly but firmly.

  “You’re presuming that Caitlin wants me to go after her,” David said, raising an eyebrow as he drained his glass.

  “Of course she does.”

  “Darling—sorry, Your Majesty—I’m fairly sure ‘no’ means ‘no.’”

  “She didn’t say ‘no’ to you, Day—she said ‘not now.’ There’s a difference.”

  “That’s true.” He poured himself more whisky. “But ‘now’ is still now. I can’t offer her anything different. Not yet. Maybe not ever.” His eyes were sad as they looked into his sister’s. “This is new for all of us, isn’t it?”

  Alix nodded. “I keep thinking that the Coronation will be like this slip in time, you know—I’ll step from one dimension of time into another, and I’ll never be the same again.” She seemed frightened. “What will become of me?”

  “You’re still you, Alexandra Elizabeth Diana. And I’m still me. And Margaret will always be Margaret.”

  Alix took a deep breath. “I can’t bear the idea that my new role means that you lose someone you love.”

  “That’s not it. That’s not why Caitlin’s gone.”

  “Isn’t it? Isn’t that what this amounts to?”

  “That’s one interpretation, I guess. But the more correct version is to say that all three of us have been brought up knowing that this time would come. It’s all of our roles, not just yours, that have changed. And Caitlin was right when she said I had no time for her—I’m too busy trying to work out who I am now, let alone working out where she and I fit together.”

  “Will you promise me, then, that you won’t just rush headlong into someone new? Don’t forget her.”

  “I couldn’t forget her,” he murmured.

  “She’s proven herself, don’t you think? She has been steadfast and loyal to you. She has never said you’re a horrible person. She’s never said she wanted anything from you other than to be a priority in your life. And that’s a reasonable request, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” he said, nodding once.

  “Remember that. Once this time has passed, once we’re all settled into our roles, just consider giving her another chance. I don’t think you’re going to meet anyone else like her. She loves you with all her heart—it’s so obvious from everything you’ve told me. And Margaret. She loves you enough to overcome whatever restrictions will be placed on her. And she’s good, David. She’s a good person.”

  David nodded again. “I’d planned,” he said, “on giving her another chance. But I don’t know if I can now.”

  “What do you mean?” said Alix. “Why not?”

  “Because, Your Majesty,” he said, his eyes brimming with tears, “my heart is broken too.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  At twenty-five years of age, the last thing Caitlin thought would happen to her was that she would be living with her mother again. She’d also never thought she’d return to San Diego. As much as she loved her hometown, she’d always known that it wasn’t the right place for her. She wasn’t a surfer; she’d never be able to slip into the relaxed So-Cal lifestyle. San Diego existed in a perpetual summery haze of semi-harsh light and trees that never lost their leaves. Yet here she was, working in a whole foods café in Ocean Beach, surrounded by surfers and other people who liked to wear swimsuits and not much else.

  This place had saved her, though: this city; this café; the people who worked here; the people who drank their coffee here. San Diego’s warm brightness had felt
like an embrace from the time she had arrived from New York, her life packed up in a few suitcases and a hardly glowing reference from her boss at the magazine.

  Although David had offered to pay the rent on her apartment until she could find a new place, Caitlin had realized that New York itself was tainted for her now and she had needed to leave. She had gone to New York with dreams—big dreams, ambitious dreams—and for a while it had felt like she was achieving them. She had a great place to live, she had an active social life with exciting friends, she thought she might climb the career ladder—and then she’d met David. For some women—for a lot of women—he would have seemed like the glittering prize, the ultimate catch, but in her memory he was simply a beautiful man who had loved her at the wrong time.

  She hadn’t read newspapers or magazines for several weeks after she’d returned from London, knowing that there would be stories about her. The photo of her in London during the worst period in David’s life had been taken as proof that they were involved and then the press had run wild with speculation about how serious they were and why she hadn’t gone to the funeral. She knew all of this because her mother, meaning well, had filled her in. But it had been the last time her mother had told her anything she’d read about Caitlin—if, indeed, there was still anything to read. After so many months had passed, surely the story had disappeared by now.

  “Super C,” said Caitlin’s boss, Mindy, as she sidled up to her by the espresso machine.

  “What do you want?” Caitlin said, bumping her hip against the other woman’s.

  “What makes you think I want something?” Mindy asked, all pretend innocence.

  “I wasn’t ‘Super C’ this morning.” Caitlin smiled as she started to make the next coffee order.

  “Hmm. I may have to punish your insolence,” said Mindy. “By … say … asking you to work your days off next week?” She made a pleading face.

  “What’s up?”

  “Ken Doll has auditions.”

  “In LA, of course.”

  “Naturally.”

  Caitlin rolled her eyes. “Okay. But only if he slings me a royalty from whichever commercial he gets.”