Romancing the Throne

by Nadine Jolie Courtney

  “Like Downton Abbey? Carson the butler being snobbier than Lord Grantham?”

  “Exactly. And I have nobody to talk with. Not speaking to you was torture. India tries to be supportive, but she and I don’t get on the way you two do. She’s so . . . remote. Flossie scares me—I can’t explain it, but I don’t really trust her. And everybody else is nice enough, but their allegiance is to Edward, not to me.”

  “Yeah, that’s smart,” I say, thinking of how I felt ditched by the group after Edward and I broke up. “India and Flossie aren’t about the warm fuzzies.”

  “I’m so happy with Edward. He’s so wonderful, and I know it sounds daft, Charlotte, but I think . . . I think he could be the one. We get on so well, and we understand each other, and we have the best chemistry.” She blushes. “Not that it matters, but—”

  “Of course it matters! Otherwise you’re only friends. Chemistry is crucial.”

  “And he’s introduced me to so many interesting people, and I’ve already had so many opportunities. I’m volunteering with a great charity, and I’m learning all about polo and horses, and I’m finally taking photography lessons.”

  “You are? Yay! Finally!”

  “I thought about you when I signed up,” she says, smiling.

  “As you should.”

  “He and I have so much in common. He gets me. He makes me feel safe.”

  “Huge.”

  “Yes. But—”

  “I was waiting for the ‘but.’”

  “It’s still hard. I worry at times I’m betraying myself by being with him—that I’m betraying womanhood, as cheesy as that sounds. I’m happy to let him shine in public. But I’m not cool with always walking two steps behind my partner, literally and figuratively.”

  “Nor should you! Because he’s a man?”

  “Because he’ll be king.”

  The simplicity with which Libby says this takes my breath away.

  My protective instincts kick in. “Let me help you. What can I do?”

  She shrugs helplessly. “This helps. I missed you so much. I desperately needed somebody to talk to. My life consists of precisely two things right now: studying and Edward.”

  “That won’t do. What are you doing this weekend? Wanna hang out? I’d say let’s take the shuttle into London, but Mum and Dad cut off my credit cards. Maybe we can walk into town?”

  “Mum mentioned they froze your cards,” Libby says. “Sorry.”

  “I’m managing.”

  “Unfortunately, we have a lunch with his cousin,” she says apologetically. “I’m booked the next five weekends in a row.”

  “Five?”

  “The royals schedule out. What’s funny is he doesn’t even like going out. We’d both rather be vegging in front of the telly with a takeaway.”

  “Then you’re perfect for each other,” I say, thinking back to all the stir-crazy nights I spent with Edward in front of the television. “We don’t need to get wild. What about lunch in the dining hall? Whenever you’re free. I want to be there for you, Libs.”

  “I’d love that,” she says, looking pleased. “And I want to be there for you. I’ve missed you. Even if everything else is going right, it’s like part of me is missing if you’re not there. I don’t feel whole.”

  We smile at each other, and I feel a calmness settle over me. Something clicks back into place in my heart.

  “Enough about me,” she says. “What’s been going on in your life?”

  “Well,” I say, “kind of a whole hell of a lot.” I get Libby up to speed with the app. “Bill is like totally intense and so we’re moving forward at this breakneck pace. I have a phone call on Monday with his designers, and they’re going to turn things around pretty fast, I think. Then Bill will send everything to the coders, and we should have a working app in the next two months, by June.”

  “That’s amazing!”

  “I wasn’t sure if India told you. I’m surprised Flossie didn’t say anything.”

  “I don’t hang out with Flossie very much, and it’s always awkward when I do. The only thing we talk about is horses. I get the impression she’s waiting for us to break up. She makes me a little uneasy.”

  “Eh, that’s Floss. She’s nice enough, when you get past literally everything that comes out of her mouth.”

  “I suppose,” she says, shaking her head. I realize that she’s taken on some of Edward’s and India’s mannerisms and phrases.

  “Your voice sounds different,” I say.

  She looks embarrassed. “Helen made a few cracks about my accent, so I felt insecure about it. Edward thought I was being silly, but he arranged for a friend to give me elocution lessons. Just as a favor. Somebody comes twice a week to campus and gives me private lessons in my room.”

  “Elocution lessons? Get you! Soon you’re going to be way too posh to hang out with little old me.”

  “It’s mental, isn’t it?”

  “Libby, that is the bloody understatement of the year.”

  We burst into laughter, doubling over and giggling so hard we both have to wipe tears from our eyes.

  “Mum must be having a coronary. Did she know you were meeting the King and the Queen?”

  “I told her it might be a possibility,” Libby admits. “But I swore her to secrecy.”

  “I understand.” I look around the room again, trying to soak up this moment. Me and my sister, alone in a grand chamber at Windsor Castle.

  The door to the room opens and we both look up in alarm.

  “Oh, thank God,” says Libby. “It’s just you.”

  Edward walks in, looking confused. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. What are you doing in here?”

  “Charlotte and I needed a moment alone.”

  Edward doesn’t hesitate, and looks over at me with a small smile. “Of course. Take your time. When you’re done, come find me. Perry’s just arrived, and I want you two to meet.”

  “Finally,” Libby says. “His friend Perry Kent flew in from Kenya just for Edward’s birthday.”

  I nod, recognizing the name from the society pages. Peregrine, the Marquess of Kent. He’s set to become a duke when his father dies.

  “Maybe we should introduce him to Charlotte?” Libby says teasingly.

  I look at them in alarm. “Let’s not with the setups, shall we? I have enough on my plate without adding a guy to the mix.”

  Edward laughs, and for a moment, I feel like we’re friends again. “I’ll leave you to it.” He blows Libby a kiss and then closes the door shut behind him.

  We’re quiet for a moment after Edward exits. His presence is so powerful that it’s like he’s still in the room, even though now it’s only the two of us sitting in the dusk.

  “He’s a good dude,” I say.

  “He is. Thank you, Charlotte.”

  “He takes care of you? Treats you well?”

  “He does. He tries.”

  “Then that’s all I can ask. When are you bringing him home?” Obviously, I’d fantasized a few times about triumphantly bringing Edward home to Wisteria myself, but it was more like a girlish fantasy than an actual reality.

  Libby’s eyes bug out. “Never? How does never sound?”

  “Libby!” I laugh. “He’s got to meet them sometime.”

  “Cringe,” she says. “Mum keeps asking me to bring him around, but I don’t want to ruin it. We’ve only been dating a few months.”

  “People have gotten married in less time.”

  “Not when they’re only eighteen!”

  “Tell that to his grandma. Wasn’t she eighteen when she married the crown prince? And besides: you’re nineteen now.”

  Libby laughs. “I don’t want to freak him out. It’s a bit soon to bring him home, don’t you think?”

  “Look, if you’ve already met the damn King and Queen, I think it’s okay to ask him to Wisteria for a bite with Mum and Dad.”

  “I guess,” she says reluctantly. “I just don’t want anything to ru
in it.”

  “Libby, he’s head over heels for you. What could possibly ruin it?”

  twenty-one

  “So, Edward, tell me,” Nana says. “What are your intentions with my granddaughter?”

  It’s a Saturday in early May, and the family has gathered in our sitting room at home in Midhurst. Edward takes a long sip of his water, trading a glance with Libby. The rest of us look at each other in alarm while Nana sits calmly in Dad’s favorite lounger. Her legs are crossed, arms resting on the chair. She reminds me of a scene from The Godfather.

  When Libby decided to invite Edward home to Wisteria, it was meant to be a casual, low-key meeting—just the immediate family, and nothing special. Libby begged Mum not to tell Nana.

  Mum couldn’t help herself. She’s always trying to impress her.

  The morning of Edward’s visit, Nana showed up unannounced. She missed the country air! She wanted to stay for a day or two to spend time with us! What? Prince Edward was coming? What a lark!

  The timing was purely coincidental, of course.

  Now it’s me, Nana, Libby and Edward, and Mum and Dad. I took the train last night, but Libby and Edward had a car drive them from campus this afternoon. They’re heading back to campus tonight, while I’m planning to stay the full weekend.

  I’ve snuck some sips of Mum’s white wine from the fridge while nobody was looking. Dutch courage.

  Edward looks at Libby again in response to the question. She makes the tiniest motion with her eyebrows, as if to say, I told you my family was nutters.

  “Well,” Edward says, clearing his throat. “I’m crazy for Libby, ma’am. That’s why I’ve introduced her to several members of my family—including my parents.”

  “And why he was keen on coming here to meet you today,” Libby adds.

  “So when she was introduced to the King and the Queen, it was as your girlfriend?”

  Libby squirms in her chair, but Edward looks Nana full in the face and smiles politely. “Yes, ma’am.” We should have known better than to worry about Edward dealing with Nana. He’s clearly been trained for worse.

  “That’s wonderful. Good boy.” Nana sits up higher in her chair, looking satisfied. She turns to my father. “Matthew, dear, would you get me a cup of tea?”

  “Just tea? Not your usual double gin, Mother?”

  “Just tea will be fine, thank you,” she snaps.

  “I’ll get it,” Mum says, standing up. “Edward? Tea?”

  “Yes, please. Thanks, Mrs. Weston.”

  I push my chair back. “Here, let me help you.”

  Once we’re in the kitchen, Mum turns to me. “Thank you, honey. Don’t think your father and I haven’t noticed the effort you’re making. You should be working on your app right now, not having to babysit us all. We’re incredibly proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Mum. I am working, don’t worry. Bill is texting me nonstop, and I’m sending him back some wireframe sketches tomorrow. And, no, this isn’t my preferred way to spend a Saturday—but only because I’m worried Nana’s going to say something ridiculous and send Edward running for the hills.”

  Mum laughs, brewing the tea and pouring it into a floral china pot. “It’s a miracle your father ever married me.”

  “Don’t you forget it,” Dad says, coming into the kitchen. “Throw the scones on there, too, Jane.”

  “You left the two of them alone with Nana?” I gasp. “Dad! What were you thinking?”

  He shrugs. “The boy’ll have to learn sometime. We can’t hide the crazy lady in the attic forever.”

  Mum shoots Dad a look. “Watch it, Weston. Regardless of how she acts, she’s still my mother.”

  “You guys,” I say, stressed out, “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough.”

  “Oh, relax, Charlotte,” Mum says. “Edward’s not fragile. That young man is capable of much more than people give him credit for. He knows how excited people like us get over royalty.”

  “People like us?”

  “Nonroyals. Commoners.”

  “Peasants,” Dad adds helpfully.

  She takes a plate of perfectly cut rectangular mini tea sandwiches out of the fridge: watercress and cucumber, smoked salmon and cream cheese, and egg salad.

  I motion to the sandwiches. “You didn’t make those yourself, did you?”

  “Of course not.” Mum snorts. “I picked them up this morning from the Village Eatery. We’re trying to impress him, not poison him.”

  As she exits the kitchen back into the sitting room, Dad smacks her on the bum.

  “Dad!” I say.

  “What will the in-laws think?” he says. “We’d better get back in there, otherwise Nana will scare him off and he’ll never return.”

  After tea and thankfully uneventful conversation, we move into the dining room.

  Dad brings in the roast he’s prepared, while Mum uncorks the wine. She pours glasses for Dad, Nana, and herself.

  “Aren’t you going to let Edward and the girls have some, Jane?” Nana asks.

  Mum looks startled. “I wasn’t planning on it, no.”

  “Of course the children must have wine. Let’s not be provincial.” She turns to Edward, who’s sitting on her right. “Isn’t it terribly common how some people fret about these things? Libby and Edward are of age. And nobody’s driving tonight, are they?”

  “We’re leaving tonight, Nana,” Libby says. “But we’re not driving—Edward has a car waiting to take us back to campus.”

  “Absolutely not. You must stay here. We can play Scrabble after dinner and then watch Big Brother. Tonight’s the premiere, of course.”

  “He doesn’t want to watch Big Brother and play Scrabble,” Mum says, sounding exasperated.

  “Actually . . . that sounds like a perfect evening to me,” Edward says, looking at Mum hopefully. Nana beams. “But we haven’t brought any bags with us.”

  “Not to worry,” says Nana. “You’re just Matthew’s size, isn’t he, Matthew?” My father looks Edward up and down, nodding.

  “Probably just about. Size thirty-two waist?”

  “That’s right.” Next to Edward, Libby looks panicked.

  Nana continues, “And, of course, Libby already has clothes here. Edward can sleep in the guest bedroom across the hall from me. That way I can keep an eye on him to make sure he’s not sneaking off to Libby’s room late at night.” Nana winks at Edward.

  “Oh, you don’t think we should put them up in the same room?” my father asks. “Isn’t it a bit provincial to separate them?”

  “I might be a progressive old lady, but even I have my limits,” Nana sniffs.

  “The guest bedroom sounds lovely, thank you,” Edward says. “But I really don’t want to be an imposition. You’re sure it would be all right?”

  My mother opens her mouth, but Nana beats her to the punch. “Perfectly all right. We’d be delighted to have you.”

  “Um, what about Simon?” Libby asks. Edward’s personal protection officer has been sitting outside in the waiting car for the past few hours.

  “We have enough bedrooms,” says Nana. “He’s welcome, too.”

  “Glad that’s settled,” my father says, suppressing a smile.

  After dinner, the conversation turns to Dad’s Triumph motorbike renovation.

  “I love motorbikes!” Edward says. “But my parents are paranoid. I’ve been forbidden to ride them—too dangerous, apparently.”

  “Really?” Dad says. “That surprises me. Don’t you play polo?”

  “I do.”

  “That’s hugely dangerous. Isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is. But I guess my family is a bunch of hypocrites. My dad’s comfortable with what he knows.”

  “You wanna go out back and check it out?” Dad asks. I’m struck by how excited he seems to be having Edward around. Knowing Dad, it has nothing to do with Edward’s status, or even the fact that he’s dating Libby. I think he’s simply happy to have another guy in the house.<
br />
  “Yeah!” Edward’s face lights up.

  “So long, Edward,” my mum says. “It’s been nice knowing you.”

  “Mum,” I hiss. “Stop it.”

  My parents dissolve into giggles as Nana looks at them with disapproval. Libby rolls her eyes.

  “Sorry, Moose,” she says. “You knew what you were signing up for.”

  Nana and I look at each other, our eyebrows nearly flying off our faces. Moose?

  As my father takes Edward into the back shed, we girls pick up the dishes and ferry them into the kitchen.

  “How do you think it’s going?” I ask.

  “Fine, I think,” Libby says before lowering her voice. “There have been a few choice moments, of course. For somebody so obsessed with royals and propriety, Nana certainly knows how to put her foot in it.”

  “I might be old, Elizabeth, but I am certainly not deaf,” Nana calls from the sitting room. “I can hear you.”

  “Sorry, Nana,” Libby calls back, chastened.

  “So, how are things going?” Nana asks, coming into the kitchen holding a snifter of brandy. “It certainly seems you two have a connection.”

  “I think we do, too,” she says, smiling.

  Nana takes a sip of her brandy as my mother begins washing up. “Is he a good kisser?”

  “Mother!” Mum says, scandalized. “You don’t have to answer that, Libby.”

  Libby turns bright red.

  “Okay, then Charlotte can tell me,” Nana says, turning toward me.

  Now it’s my turn to blush.

  “Oh, honestly, the lot of you.” Nana looks grumpy. “Is nobody going to give me the dish?”

  “Sorry, Nana,” I say.

  “Just take care not to give too much of yourself away,” Nana says. “Boys don’t like running around with fast girls.”

  I snort.

  “Oh, Mother,” Mum says. “It’s not the 1950s.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You lot make the mistake of thinking women’s lib has changed things when it simply hasn’t. Boys are boys. Girls are girls. No amount of wishing it away will stop girls from wanting to be courted and boys from wanting to conquer. It’s Darwinian. It’s the nature of the beast.”

  “So, what’s next? Can we expect virginity tests from the palace? Is our Libby going to be subject to a rigorous physical from the physician of the King’s choice?” Mum shakes her head. “Honestly.”