Royals (Royals #1)(60)

Only to come up short as I see that I have found Lady Tamsin. She’s standing in the middle of the room, wrapped around another person, the sounds of heavy breathing and lips meeting soft in the quiet room. For just a second, my confused brain wonders how Seb got back to this part of the house without me seeing him.

And then I really look.

It’s very much not Seb she’s kissing.

It’s Flora.





Chapter 28


A fun thing about me that I learn on this trip: I really, really hate shooting.

Alex kept his promise—we’re not shooting any living creatures, thank god, but we are shooting clay pigeons, and it turns out it’s not just the killing that bugs me about shooting.

It’s the noise.

When I shriek for the third time as my gun goes off, Gilly, my shooting partner for this outing, gives me a look.

“Every time?” he asks, and I scowl, adjusting my cap lower on my head. Oh yes, I have a cap. I have a whole outfit made out of tweed, and there are sturdy boots and leather gloves, and honestly, if anyone takes a picture of me like this, I am going to die.

“Sorry, I’m not used to gunfire going off right by my head,” I tell him, and Gilly looks at me, puzzled.

“But you’re American,” he says, and then, before I can reply, he shouts, “Pull!”

A clay pigeon soars through the air.

Gilly pulls the trigger and the pigeon shatters.

I shriek.

Sighing, Gilly lowers the gun, fixing me with his dark eyes. “Lady Daze,” he says, “why don’t you go see if there’s something to drink back at the cars?”

I can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of me, but I stick my tongue out at him anyway before gratefully skedaddling over to the cars. There are a bunch of them, old Land Rovers, some jeeps, all of which have seen better days. It must be more of that thing Miles told me about, posh people not needing to show off all the time.

Walking around to the back of the jeep that I know has the drinks and snacks, I kick a loose clod of dirt and grass with the toe of my boot. It’s a beautiful day, clouds racing across the sky, and the air smells sweet and smoky. It’s also warm enough that I don’t really need my jacket, and I shuck it as I round the back of the jeep.

And come face-to-face with Flora and Miles.

They’re not standing particularly close or anything, and they seem to just be making small talk as Flora pours lemonade out of a thermos and Miles unwraps a sandwich. She’s laughing at something he’s said, but when she sees me, her smile fades, her movements suddenly becoming a little stiff and jerky.

She and Tamsin hadn’t said anything to me the night of the ball. They’d seen me, Tamsin jerking to look over her shoulder, her eyes wide, her lips swollen, and I’d muttered apologies, backing out into the hallway so quickly I’d almost tripped over my dress. Flora had only narrowed her eyes at me.

I didn’t see her at all yesterday, and now I try to act as nonchalant as possible as I pick up one of the other thermoses from the back of the jeep.

“Having fun?” Flora asks me. She’s also dressed in tweed, but she’s taken off her jacket, too. Her dark golden hair is held back in a low ponytail, aviator sunglasses covering her eyes. Miles has a similar look, although he’s also got a cap kind of like mine. They look . . . right standing there together. Flora is clearly not interested in him at the moment, but it’s just another reminder that they all inhabit this same world, all travel in an orbit that I can barely understand on a good day.

Then Flora surprises me by saying, “Help me carry these things out to everyone, would you, Daisy?”

Like her mom, Flora has enough authority that you just kind of do what she says without really thinking about it. I scoop up an extra thermos and a stack of little china plates while Flora gathers a handful of wrapped sandwiches and a couple of glasses, tucking the stems between her fingers.

We’re about halfway between the cars and the shooting when she says, “You didn’t tell anyone.”

It’s not a question, but I answer it like it is. “No, of course not.”

Stopping, Flora turns to look at me, but I can’t see her eyes, only my face reflected twice in those giant mirrored aviators.

“Why not?” she asks. “I was a total bitch to you, and you could’ve run off to tell everyone. Mummy, Seb. The press.” She lifts one shoulder. “It’s what I would’ve done.”

“You’re a princess,” I tell her. “It was to be expected.”

That makes her smile, or at least sort of smile. One corner of her mouth lifts, revealing her perfect teeth for just a second.

“It’s not all that serious, me and Tam,” she tells me. “Just a bit of fun, but given Mummy’s current obsession with locking in a bride for Seb, it’s really best if no one finds out about us.”

I nod, squinting as the clouds move overhead and a shaft of sunlight falls right where we’re standing. “So it’s that, then,” I say. “It’s Tamsin specifically, and not that you like girls, that would upset your mom?”

Sighing, Flora turns to walk back down the hill toward all the gunfire. “Oh, she’s not thrilled about that.”

I frown and walk a little faster to keep up with her. “But it’s the twenty-first century,” I say, and she stops, laughing as she nods down at all the boys in their tweed, guns at the ready.