Page 69 of Royally Redeemed
She waved me off and I thought about going home until my attention turned to the mission I sent Duncan on and how he delivered. I decided to call him for the first time, doubting he’d answer.
To my surprise, the phone barely rang.
“Hello?”
“It’s Eloise,” I said.
“Oh, okay,” he sounded less panicked. “I didn’t know the number. Made me paranoid.”
“Well, it’s just me. What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Mind if I pop in?”
“I would be glad to do so. Hopefully, to express your gratitude?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Where are you?”
“The Savoy. I just dropped Mo off.”
“Stay there. I will send you a car.”
“I can get there. KP is just?—”
“Nah. It’s safer this way. Just trust me. Press, Ella.”
“Oh, you’re right,” I relented.
A driver arrived in magical time. I gathered he’d rang someone at Buckingham Palace, which was much closer. Either way, I was on my way to some scary back alley and into a security gate with guards. After being brought through a veritable maze, I was at Duncan’s doorstep at Kensington Palace. It was odd.
As I entered, ushered by his butler who looked annoyed given the time, I realized I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Compared to the cozy, posh house in Wales, this place sprawled. After all, itwasa palace. But it wasn’t just that the place was named that. After all,I’d been in one earlier, too. It was that in this moment, it hit me that I proposed a booty call with someone wholivedin a fucking palace. And the ball was in my court.
Duncan descended the steps, surprise on his face. He dismissed the staff, apologizing for the late-night arrival.
“Miss Mills. You look… lovely. To what do I owe the surprise?”
“Cut the crap,” I laughed.
We stood nervously in the foyer. I neededhimto make a move. I wasn’t sure what was protocol. It was his house. His massive, important fucking house.
“Are you going to invite me anywhere or… what?” I asked.
“Uh… sure. I didn’t want to be…” he lowered his voice. “Presumptuous.”
“I was,” I said. “And remain so. I thought the bedroom might work best?”
“I will not tell you no.”
He led me upstairs, giving me a tour along the way as if it mattered. We wound into his massive bedroom. He chattered nervously, as if he’d never brought a girl home before. I poked around in his perfectly-organized and expansive closet. He followed me.
“Which tie do you like most?” I asked.
He pointed. “I like that blue one. It’s quite good. Especially if you’re in Scotland.”
“Grab it,” I said.
