To Marry a Prince (41 page)

Bella got back the power of speech. ‘What are you doing, you, you thug?’ she shouted. ‘Get off my father! Get off my father
now
.’

Richard stared at her blankly. ‘Your father?’

Bella calmed down somewhat. ‘The man you are sitting on,’ she said, very precisely, ‘is my natural father, Finn Greenwood.’

Richard got off his victim automatically. ‘But he shouted at you. Abuse … I heard him.’

Bella turned to her father, who stood up, spitting grass and rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘What did you shout, Finn?’

His eyes crinkled up at the corners. Say what you like about footloose and irresponsible, Finn was good at riding life’s punches. ‘I said, “Chocolate, vanilla or coffee flavour?”’ he repeated mildly. ‘I take it you’re my intended son-in-law? Good to meet you.’

Richard shook hands on auto-pilot.

Down the path came two security officers. One, Bella saw, was Ian.

‘What’s going on?’ she said.

He came panting up to them. ‘Are you out of your mind?’ he yelled at Richard, entirely forgetting the respect due to the Prince of Wales. ‘For all you knew, he could have been armed.’

‘Exciting,’ said Finn, mildly interested. This was the
sort of human interaction he could handle, thought his daughter fondly, plenty of action, none of the soppy stuff.

Richard rubbed his hand over his face. ‘I thought I’d lost you,’ he croaked.

He pulled Bella into his arms, heedless of his prospective father-in-law, security officers, ice-cream vendors and a tribe of interested mothers and children who entirely forgot to feed the ducks.

He became aware at last that everyone was staring. ‘Oh, God. Let’s get out of here.’

‘I still have Lottie’s key,’ said Bella. She was torn between bewilderment, relief and sheer spitting fury. She definitely didn’t want to go anywhere Royal, just at the moment, and was quite prepared to say so. Nobody asked.

So they went back to the Pimlico flat and Bella brewed tea. Richard went into the kitchen with her.

‘God, I’ve missed you,’ he said.

Looking at his face, Bella could believe it. He had dark grooves around his mouth and his eyes looked haunted. Much of her fury dissipated. She touched his poor tense mouth and he seized her hand, kissing the palm and holding it against his cheek as if he could not quite believe she was there.

Bella lost the urge to yell at him. On the other hand …

‘You’ve been keeping me in the dark,’ she said levelly. ‘You’ve got to stop that, you know. I’m a grown-up.’ She tugged her hand away.

‘I know. I know. But you were in danger, all because
of me. If you hadn’t met me, if I hadn’t chased you, it would never have happened. You’d have had a safe and happy life. So it was my fault. Besides, I
had
to keep you safe. Do you see?’

Yes, she saw. She went on making tea, putting mugs on a tray. ‘But why didn’t you just
tell
me?’

‘I didn’t want you to be afraid,’ he said simply.

She snorted. ‘Great! Just great. So you put me in prison instead?’

He winced. ‘I didn’t think.’

‘No. You didn’t. And you don’t seem to think that I can either. Marriage is a
partnership
, Richard.’

She took the tray through to the sitting room, while he held the door for her.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘I want to know what’s been going on. All of it.’

Ian and the other security officer looked at Richard for guidance. Bella could have screamed. But he nodded quickly and she decided to let it go.

‘There’s a blogger we’ve been watching for a while. He’s particularly hostile to you, Bella,’ said Ian. ‘The profilers say he is fixated on Richard. The threats get worse every time you two are seen together in public.’

So that’s why Richard had been keeping away from her. Idiot! But she didn’t say it aloud. Not yet. It could wait.

Richard said, ‘I thought if you went to live in the Palace, you would be safe. And you
were
. But it’s made you look like a ghost. And so sad. When you asked me if I still wanted to marry you, I nearly stopped it. But –
well, LoyalSubjekt101 was still out there. Still is, since this hobo isn’t our man.’

He gave Finn a complicated look, somewhere between apology and irritation. Well, at least he’d got over hero-worshipping her father, thought Bella, suddenly amused. That was a good sign.

‘What sort of things does the blogger say?’ she asked.

Richard recoiled. ‘You don’t want to know.’

She just looked at him.

‘Oh, very well. Some of it’s vile and some of it’s just stupid … like saying you looked fat because the wind was blowing up your windcheater, or that you dressed like a frump because you wore some terrible striped dress to the New Year Ball, which you didn’t even wear …’ He tailed off. ‘Bella?

She had sat bolt upright. ‘He said I was going to wear a striped dress?’

‘Yes.’

She went into her old bedroom and brought out The Striped Horror. ‘This one, I imagine?’

Everyone stared at it.

‘I never saw you in that,’ said Richard slowly.

‘No one did except Lottie. She was here when it was delivered. Some dressmaker must know about it, since she made the damn thing. But the person who gave it to me was Lady Pansy.’

There was a moment’s silence, as they all assimilated the implications.

Then Richard surged to his feet. ‘And that – that –
Judas
is having tea with my mother right now. Come with me!’

He seized the dress as they went.

When Bella and Richard burst in to her sitting room, the Queen was looking tired. Not surprisingly, thought Bella, who recognised one of Lady Pansy’s interminable monologues when she walked in on one.

‘Shut up,’ said Richard ferociously.

Lady Pansy did.

‘Richard dear,’ said the Queen, alarmed.

He flung The Striped Horror into the middle of the carpet. ‘Trapped by your own spite, Pansy. If you hadn’t tried to make my Bella wear the ugliest dress in the world, you would never have given yourself away. Mother, this loyal lady-in-waiting of yours is LoyalSubjekt101.’

The Queen went pale. It was clear she knew about the mad blogger. But she said bravely, ‘That has to be nonsense. Pansy …’

Lady Pansy said nothing. She didn’t have to. Guilt was written all over her face, as soon as she saw the dress.

Ignoring the Queen, she turned on Richard, the horse face suddenly ugly.

‘You had no right to marry
that
,’ she said. ‘You had to marry someone with breeding, with dignity, with a history of …’

‘Service to the Royal Family? Yadda, yadda, yadda,’ said Richard, suddenly a lot less dignified than Bella had ever seen him in front of other people. ‘Shut up, you poisonous parasite. Shut up!’

Lady Pansy screamed then and went on screaming. It took a couple of the security officers, waiting in the
corridor, to subdue her, and then a doctor to sedate her ravings.

The Queen was distraught. Richard called his father. When the King came hurrying in, Queen Jane was standing in front of the fireplace, wringing her hands in agitation.

‘How could I have been so mistaken? How could I? She always seemed to be my friend. Why didn’t I see? Your poor Bella, Richard. I’ve been so blind.’

The King stepped over to her, stilled her frantic hands and said, ‘It’s not your fault, my dear. If it’s anyone’s it’s mine.’ He drew a deep breath. ‘I don’t like unpleasantness or I would have got rid of Pansy a long time ago.’

‘
What?
’ said Richard. ‘You
knew?
’ He looked very grim suddenly.

Bella put a hand on his arm instinctively.

The King said steadily, ‘My father did not treat Pansy well. I knew it. And I never said.’

‘Oh,’ said Bella, enlightened. ‘So when she kept on about service to the Royal Family, what she really meant was that she was in love with the late King.’

‘He couldn’t marry her, of course. Not that he would have done anyway. Not a
loving
man, my father. But we didn’t marry commoners in those days.’

‘Commoner?’ echoed Bella faintly. Lady Pansy of the horse face and ancestors who had served the Royal Family for a hundred years was a
commoner?

‘A technical term,’ said Richard dryly. ‘My father means not of the blood Royal. Bicycling Royals count. Daughters of an earl don’t. Pansy would never have
been a candidate for a Royal wife and she knew it.’

‘And then you wanted me, without any sort of title in my family! No wonder she hated me!’

‘Poor woman,’ said the Queen. ‘No husband and children of her own. Just us and that flaky niece. And none of us really
seeing
her properly. She used to drive me mad, and I was so determined to be
nice
to her …’ Her voice trailed off.

She turned to the King then. For the first time since Bella had known them, she saw the King put an arm around his wife. He did it awkwardly. But it did not look insincere.

‘Right,’ said Bella, ‘I have something to say. Please listen. You’ve got to stop trying to live other people’s lives for them,’ she said, first to the Queen and then to Richard.

‘I know you do it with the best of intentions. It’s very sweet. I really appreciate it. Richard was willing to throw himself in front of an assassin’s knife for me and I don’t take that lightly, I really don’t. And the very first time we met, he took care of me. It’s very good of you, my darling, but it has to stop. If I can’t make my own mistakes, I’m not human. You ought to know that if anyone does.’

She turned to the Queen next. ‘And you have to stop trying to prevent him from taking risks. He’s so tender of you and his father, always trying to spare you worry. But he shouldn’t. He’s a grown man. He knows his own abilities. He needs to test himself, without thinking about you and the country and everyone else all the time.’

Nobody said anything. But the Queen rested her head against the King’s chest.

‘Now …’ Bella went to the door. ‘I am going back to stay with Lottie. Richard and I will go out, in public, whenever and wherever we want. I will come to the Palace the night before the wedding and not before. I’m taking my life back.’

‘The Day!’ –
Morning Times

It was the morning of Bella’s wedding day. In the courtyard of the Palace, a golden coach awaited the new Royal bride. In her borrowed boudoir in the Palace, she sat in a gold-embroidered cream dress, with flowing mediaeval sleeves. Brilliant sunlight shone into the window, illuminating a tall mirror.

Janet Bray stood back and smiled dreamily. ‘You’re beautiful, my darling. Just like the woman in your picture. Happy the bride the sun shines on.’

Bella would have been just as happy if she had been stomping up the hill in Wellington boots to marry her Richard in the pouring rain in front of their tower. But she didn’t say so.

In fact she didn’t say anything at all. Because she thought she was hearing something that should have been impossible. A scraping at the brickwork, a sharp and probably profane exclamation, the rending sound of a creeper being ripped from a wall.

No, she told herself, it was her imagination. It couldn’t be happening. Not on her wedding day. Not with everything timed to a nanosecond. The Prince of
Wales, in scarlet regimentals and a gleaming sword, would be getting ready to go to the Cathedral even now.

‘I so want you to be happy, my love. Even Finn says you two were born to be together.’

‘Yes, I know, Ma. He said the same to me. Mind you, he’s impressed that Richard has read all his books. Finn says it’s more than he has.’

Janet looked momentarily shocked. ‘Finn hasn’t read his own books? No!’

‘He puts them on tape and then forgets about ’em apparently.’

Bella tried to shift her position without actually craning round her mother too obviously. Was it possible that a face had just bobbed up outside the window?

No, of course not. It had to be her imagination.

Janet half turned to look out.

Bella said hurriedly, ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am to Kevin for walking me down the aisle.’

Janet beamed and faced her again. ‘He was so touched that you wanted him to do it.’

Bella breathed out in relief. ‘He’s a wonderful man. I … oh my God!’ she cried, jumping to her feet.

‘Darling, what is it? Are you nervous? Tell me?’

‘Yes. No. I don’t know,’ said Bella, who had definitely seen the face bob up, a hand wave – in greeting? Desperation? – and both of them disappear again.

There had been no loud cry and thud of a falling body. So he was still there.

‘No need to be. I remember my own wedding…’

Bella passed her options under rapid review. She could call in someone to help now. Richard wouldn’t
like that, unless he was hanging on by a fingernail. No, come to think of it, he would
particularly
dislike it if he was hanging on by a fingernail. So calling for help wasn’t an option either way.