Royally Matched (Royally #2)(17)

“Where have you been? The whole damn world is tasteless and tawdry.”

My voice changes then, softening, and I almost believe my own words. “But she could be out there, Fergus, just waiting for me to find her. The woman I’m supposed to love, the future mother of my children, the lady who is destined to be Wessco’s queen—she could be one of them. And wouldn’t that be a tale to tell?”

He looks at my face for a moment, and his expression doesn’t soften at all. But then he nods. And steps forward, putting his hand over mine. “Your father would’ve had a good laugh about this. Always enjoyed a dip on the wild side, that one.”

I smile and smack his back. Then I look to Cook. She grins broadly, her cheeks round and full and her brogue thick as molasses.

“I don’t tweeter like the Pope, but . . .” And she adds her hand to mine and Fergus’s.

James whispers with the other boys, then turns to me, speaking for the group.

“This could be considered treason, Sir.”

I scoff. “No. No one’s talking about betraying government secrets or overthrowing the monarchy. It’s just a case of . . . what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

Poor James rubs the back of his neck, looking like he’s going to shit himself.

“I can’t lie to the Queen, Prince Henry.”

I shake my head. “And I would never ask you to. But . . . if she’s not asking you directly, then it’s not really lying.”

“I email daily reports to Winston. He’ll have my arse if he finds out I didn’t tell him about this.”

Yeah, that’s a tricky one. Winston is the head dark suit at the Palace.

“Then we’d best make sure he doesn’t find out. Continue your reports . . . just keep them . . . vague. General. ‘We’re all good here at Anthorp Castle, how the hell are you?’”

He still looks like the weak link.

So I put all my cards on the table.

“Look, James, I am Prince of Pembrook now. And I realize I’m not Nicholas; I never will be. But if this goes south I won’t let you or your boys take the fall, I swear it. So, it comes down to trust. Either you believe in me or you don’t.”

And I really need someone to fucking believe in me. Even for just a little while.

James’s blue eyes read mine, like he’s delving into my brain. After a long moment, he scrubs his hands down his face. “Fuck it—we’re with you, Prince Henry.”

The lads nod behind him and I can’t not smile.

“You’re good men. I’ve always liked you. You’re going places, I can tell.”

James and the rest of the security boys add their hands to the pile. And because I don’t want to be a full-out wanker, I don’t cheer or yell. I just nod to each of them, tap our hands, and say, “I’m proud of all of you. And grateful to each of you. I won’t let you down. Go, team.”





MR. HAVERSTROM ISN’T PLEASED WHEN I present him with my official Act of Royalty letter, excusing me from work for the next six weeks. But, as he acknowledged, he can’t fire me. And while I’ll miss the library and the regulars and lunch with Annie and Willard, in the end, it’s worth it. The unknown of Matched pales in comparison to the stark terror of standing in front of hundreds of people. No contest.

Ten days after Miss Herald showed up at our front door, a car arrives to take Penelope and me to Anthorp Castle. The property is only a little over an hour’s drive from Castlebrook. It’s guarded grounds, the royal family’s private property, so while I’ve read a few books about the castle’s history and have seen photos, I’ve never actually visited.

When the car pulls up the long, winding drive and stops in front of giant wood-and-iron doors, I decide for the first time that a book just can’t compare. The smell of salt and sea is in the air, and the wind coming off the water whips at my hair. It’s sunny and cool, and the huge gray stone castle with its points and towers, flags and flowers, drawbridge and moat, is straight out of a fairy tale—like Cinderella or The Little Mermaid.

Yes, with the waves crashing on the rocks below the cliff, The Little Mermaid is the perfect comparison. And it’s my favorite Disney movie.

A few of the show’s crew members collect our bags and carry them in. I notice a few other ladies—in designer clothes and large sunglasses—exiting cars nearby. A couple are familiar to me—the Duchess of Perth, Laura Benningson, and Lady Cordelia Ominsmitch—but the rest I’ve never met, though I’m sure Penny has. Miss Herald greets us in the main foyer and gives us a quick tour. Penelope chooses her room almost immediately—a large pink room on the second floor, near the main staircase and close to the action.

“I’d like to explore the grounds on my own, if that’s all right,” I tell Miss. Herald. “I’ll select a room after.”

“That’ll be fine,” she replies. “The crew, wardrobe, and makeup are using the whole west wing, but any other empty room is up for grabs.”

She hands Penelope her schedule for the day. The first filming session is late this afternoon, in front of the castle with the full cast, including Prince Henry, to shoot the opening scenes of the first episode. Before that, Penny has an interview, a wardrobe consultation, and a cocktail hour meet-and-greet with the other ladies in the castle.