Majesty (American Royals, #2)(112)
And she’d realized, too, how much Sam had changed.
Her irrepressible mischief was still there, but the loss of their father had transmuted it into something else: a bold self-possession that turned heads. Where she had once been willful and rambunctious, Sam now let her inner confidence carry her along. And the world was taking notice. Certainly Beatrice was.
For the first time, she felt truly glad that Samantha was next in line for the throne.
“Samantha set off the alarm,” she confessed, meeting Teddy’s gaze. His bright blue eyes went wide with shock.
“Sam?” he asked, bewildered. “Why?”
“She was…” Beatrice trailed off, but the truth must have been written on her face, because Teddy’s features grew grave and closed-off.
“He was here, wasn’t he.”
Teddy didn’t use Connor’s name because he didn’t know it, but it hardly mattered. Beatrice could tell exactly who he meant.
“How did you know?”
“Because I know you. I’ve seen that look you get when you’re thinking of him,” Teddy said hoarsely. “You know I’ll support you, whatever you decide. But if you want to be with him—”
“I told him goodbye.”
Teddy ran a hand distractedly through his hair, mussing its perfect golden waves. Combined with the untucked shirt and cuffed sleeves, it made him look young, and boyishly disheveled. “Then why did you cancel the wedding?”
“I didn’t cancel it; I’m delaying it,” she clarified. “Teddy, everything between us happened at lightning speed. Our relationship and engagement, the wedding planning—it was all a whirlwind. When that alarm went off today, I realized that I had gotten lost in it all.” Beatrice took a hesitant step forward, willing him to understand. “We deserve to get married when we want to, on a timeline that makes sense. I don’t want our wedding to be some kind of reaction to what we think America needs. I want it to be for us.”
“It would still have been for us, if we’d held the ceremony today.” Teddy reached for her hand.
“Would it?” Beatrice pressed. “Half of America thinks I’m marrying you because I need you to do my job for me. I’m the first female monarch,” she said helplessly. “What kind of example am I setting for the women who come after me—for all the women in America—if I don’t do it alone for a while, before you join in?”
“Let me get this straight,” Teddy clarified. “You wanted to marry me when you didn’t love me, because you thought it would help manage public opinion. And now you don’t want to get married even though you do love me, because you want to manage public opinion?”
“Public opinion is a fickle beast,” she said lightly, and let out a breath. “If I marry you now, I’m validating the claims of all those people who say a woman can’t rule alone. I want to prove them wrong.”
Teddy nodded slowly. “I get it,” he assured her. “Still…I’d be lying if I said I’m not disappointed. I wanted to be married to you. And to go on our honeymoon.”
“We should still go!”
His eyebrows shot up with surprise and unmistakable amusement. “The Queen of America, sharing a honeymoon suite with a man who isn’t her husband? Are you sure?”
“Like I told Samantha, we’re dragging this monarchy into the twenty-first century. People are going to have to get used to it.” Beatrice stepped forward into his arms, nestling her head against his chest for a moment. She’d grown so addicted to his strength and solidity, to the warm familiar scent of him.
“I promise we’ll get married someday. And that when I propose again, it’ll be better than the last time.” She saw Teddy’s mouth curl into a half smile at the memory. It was strange to think of how different things had been back then, how little they’d known each other.
Beatrice paused, fumbling for the right words to explain. “When I marry you, I want to do it as me, not just as the queen. And I’m still figuring out who that is. Who I am.”
Teddy’s blue eyes were very soft as he said, “I know exactly who you are.”
“I know. You believed in me, even when I wasn’t brave enough to believe in myself.” She tilted her face up to his. “But there are so many things I still want to do. I want to see the world and have adventures and learn, so that someday when we get married, I’m ready for it. And most of all…”
She looked out at the balcony, and the teeming mass of people still gathered below. Their phones winked at her like a million dancing fireflies.
They were her people. If her father were here, she knew precisely what he would say: that he was proud of her, that he loved her. That she had the power to change history.
“Most of all?” Teddy prompted.
Beatrice tugged her hands from his and stepped toward the balcony. She was suddenly glad that she’d taken off her wedding gown; she didn’t want to look like a bride right now, but like a sovereign.
She was going to make a balcony appearance—to step out into the warm June night, alone.
“Most of all,” she told him, “I am going to be the queen.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For reasons I still don’t understand, sequels always seem to cause more trouble than their predecessors! I am so grateful to everyone who devoted their time and talents to making this book a reality.