Page 81 of Scandal Queen

“She needs help. Proper rehabilitation. And you need to find out how this stuff is getting into her hands.”

The King nodded but his face remained closed.

“Dad, we have to.” Oliver’s voice gravelled like grit.

“After Christmas,” The King returned. “We are going to leave in a few days, the Welsh air will do her some good.”

I went to open my mouth, but I didn’t need to. Oliver spoke for me. “Dad, it’s not going to help. She’ll be taking the problems with her.”

Oliver’s gaze flickered to meet mine. A swell of pride bloomed in my chest; he’d taken on board everything he’d learnt in his time at Bright Futures.

“If she doesn’t come with us, then the papers will talk. It’s enough that you are staying in London. If another member of the family also doesn’t uphold tradition, then it will create yet more bad headlines.” The King looked pointedly at my hand. “And I don’t think you want those right now, Oliver.”

“Dad! It’s not about bad headlines, it’s about Bella. She has to be the focus here. Leia said that she looked hungover this morning, on a come down. We need to be realistic that what used to be a sign of teenage rebellion is something worse now.”

“Oliver!” the King rumbled. “The public come first. Our example comes first. Always. If Bella doesn’t go to Wales, people will talk, someone will talk and they will say things we don’t want people knowing.”

“You’re wrong.”

I leant over and grabbed Oliver’s hand, squeezing it tight and giving a small shake of my head.

A moment of silence stretched awkwardly, and I met Janine’s eye. A dart of guilt settled in my stomach for the way I’d behaved in her office earlier. The woman had never put a foot wrong for me, ever. She’d always protected me. That’s why she’d reached out to Oliver first.

I got up from my seat, smoothing down my second black velvet dress of the evening. Luckily, the designs that had been bought in for me didn’t stray too far from one another and no one noticed my change of outfit. Or if they did, they were incredibly discreet about it. Although by the time we’d got back into the state room the King had managed to distract everyone from the missing family members by plying them all with more champagne than I think the staff knew how to serve that fast. The poor waiters and waitresses had been run off their feet.

Stepping towards Janine, I reached my arms around her, squeezing her tight. “Thanks for coming when I needed you. And I’m sorry for earlier.”

She hugged me back, which was all I needed to hear.

“So, Oliver.” The King cleared his throat. “I believe you have something to ask me?”

Oliver didn’t look like he ever wanted to ask anyone anything ever again. “Not now.”

“Well, we can’t all sit here ignoring the giant rocks on Leia’s hand.” The King stepped towards me and lifted my hand, tilting it this way and that to catch the light. “Perfect.” His eyes met mine and I swallowed. “Welcome to the family.”

“Dad, I really don’t think this is the right time.” Oliver went to interject as he stood and came to my side, but the King held up his hand.

“Nonsense. Now, with your agreement we will withhold announcing your engagement until New Year’s Day. It will be seemlier to not have two royal engagements all in one year.”

I gasped a little but then steeled my expression into one of neutrality.

“Obviously we will need to talk with Marcus. Announcing another wedding could sway the public either way. We will need to be prepared for all eventualities.”

My stomach plummeted.

I tried to remember how it felt in St Edwin’s Chapel, kneeling on the cold floor with Oliver, promising to give him everything; but despite it only being hours before, I couldn’t grasp the essence of it.

“Father!” Oliver’s voice cut through the air. “I need to ask Leia’s Nana first and her daughter. Leia has family too, family that is right now looking after…” he stumbled for just one moment but then lifted his chin, pushing out his chest. “Looking after our daughter. I will do this the right way.” He turned for me, his eyes shining. Then he dropped his attention to his watch—good thing too because sweat broke out along my face. “And also, we have something else to celebrate.”

“We do?” I asked.

He showed me his watch. “Happy birthday, my love.”

My heart sunk, along with my smile. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know?” He arched one dark eyebrow.

“I don’t celebrate my birthday.”

“You don’t think I’m going to celebrate the fact that this makes you one year closer to me in age, and takes me down one notch in the dirty old man rating?”