Page 89 of Scandal Queen

I wanted to know if Oliver had spoken to her, I knew he intended to. I guess maybe I hoped he wouldn’t do it while I was face down in some form of late-night sex coma.

“We talked about whether you would make a good princess.”

Oh.

“And what did you think?”

She thought for a moment, tilting her head and I focused on counting her freckles. “I said I thought you’d make a nice one.”

“Nice, hey?”

“Well, you aren’t very good with dresses, and high heels.” She frowned, her nose wrinkling. “But you are very kind, and you care a lot, and I think that’s kind of what the movies are about.”

Disney. The bane of my existence.

“I think it’s more complicated than what the movies say, sweetie.”

“Maybe.” Her bottom lip protruded while she thought even harder. Wow, she really wasn’t sure I should be a princess.

What would happen if I became queen? We’d all be doomed.

“What else did you talk about?” My voice tightened; a strange and overwhelming emotion gripping my throat so tight I couldn’t swallow.

“He said he wanted to marry you. And wanted to know if I liked the idea.”

“And?”

She turned in my arms throwing her hands around my neck. “I said you’d be perfect, but that he shouldn’t make you wear high heels otherwise you will fall over in front of everyone.”

My heart beat fast, tangled with a sob.

“So you’d be happy?” I met her eyes, holding her face in my hands so I could meet her blue gaze. “Marriage is a different thing to the royal family, to Ollie’s family. I think it’s going to be hard to organise.”

“We’d better do it right then.”

“Are you questioning my organisation skills?”

She chuckled. “Mummy, you are always late for everything.”

“I am not.”

She looked out at the darkening sky. “Well you’re late for your birthday.” Little Miss Clever Clogs folded her arms over her chest and I got my fingers into her rib for a good tickle.

Twenty-One

I peered up through the car window at the rows of flats. With red-bricked balconies, and coloured front doors it didn’t look much like I remembered.

“Ma’am, are you sure you want to go in there?” Bill, bless him, had that expression of trepidation mixed with frustration in his face I remembered well from our early acquaintance.

He was as loyal to Oliver as any man could be. That’s why I trusted him and knew he would be loyal to me.

So this morning when I woke and decided that I couldn’t face a day of my future without knowing, Bill was the man I found myself going to.

Christmas shopping. Not Christmas shopping at all, but a legitimate reason for me to leave Daisy and Oliver at home.

Although I knew I’d have to go to some shops later otherwise the press wouldn’t write about it and therefore my cover would be blown.

Who knew that I’d eventually have to shop to keep myself in the papers?