Page 37 of Royally Drawn

We did some work around the stables before tacking up. Kraken perked up as he spotted me. The old man was never too bored for a good hack. Despite his name, Kraken wasn’t much of a fire-breathing dragon. He was a packer—a dependable five-star-tested gelding. We’d bought him from a French rider about to retire. She saw me coming up in the world and agreed to sell him to us almost two years ago, knowing I’d keep him going. Alexandra bought him for me as a twentieth birthday present. When he arrived, I cried and cried out of sheer happiness. His arrival allowed for what theChronicledescribed as a “meteoric” rise of a young rider.

While Alexandra wanted to keep me home for a few more years before setting me free—her maternal instincts overrunning her—she knew I needed to move on. Moving to America with Cici and Betty had improved my cross-country by leaps and bounds. I was more confident, which allowed my horse to shine. It was heaven.

We rode to Sandringham in good weather, but packed rain gear just in case. Our horses were coming off a few days’ rest, making for a few happy bucks as we picked up a trot. If everyone behaved, we’d gallop them a little on the way back. We didn’t want to take too much edge off or risk injury. They would need to let it out in a few days at Badminton. I tried not to overthink. We’d have a four-hour drive southwest to the estate to settle in before dressage began tomorrow.

Sandringham was more extensive than I anticipated. Guards waved us through, and we rode up to the Queen’s line of stables. Her beautiful string of riding horses greeted us. To my surprise, she called out from a stall where she’d just watched one of her mares deliver a foal.

“Oh, there you are!” Queen Natalie said warmly. “Lovely to see you all. Are you keen to have lunch?”

“We’ve had an enjoyable morning and could do luncheon, yes,” Cici answered. “Auntie, I think you’ve met Princess Ingrid before?”

I bowed slightly. We’d only met briefly.

“In passing,” Queen Natalie answered. But it was so lovely to host you. Any friend of Cici’s is a friend of ours. And Betty, how are you?”

“Good, Auntie,” she answered. “Trying to keep up and learning lots.”

Betty was still green and wet behind the ears regarding competition. She excelled at dressage but struggled with confidence over fences. She had an enviable seat but struggled to convince her horse to follow her. They were working on trust more than gymnastics these days.

It amused me that she called Natalie her aunt. Technically, Betty was Keir and Lars’s half-sibling andnotdirectly related to the Lyonses. However, as with most things with this rowdy family, one’s blood origins didn’t matter much if they were in the fold. These people were mad but loved hard. I sensed that no matter how idiotic he could be, Duncan would show up for Betty if needed—regardless of whether he was her blood relative.

“It is nice to see you all. We have a few guests for lunch,” Her Majesty explained. “But I think they will be glad to see you all, too.”

Guess Who’s Coming to Lunch

KEIR

When Her Majesty called you north, you went. I usually took morning meetings with my aunt when not on post at Buckingham Palace. However, she’d been in Norfolk for the weekend and didn’t want to leave. So, I took my plane to RAF Marham, dumped it, and climbed in the waiting Rolls. When I arrived at Sandringham, she was down at the barn with the horses.Why call me north if she wasn’t even going to be around?

This was my aunt in a nutshell—the world revolved around the Queen, and she could change her mind. Besides, what else was I up to besides thinking about Ingrid naked and kicking myself for not doing more with my time in paradise?

“She’ll be up soon,” my uncle Ed explained. “They had a foal arrive and something-something about a retained something, and she wanted to check in this morning. You know how they are.”

“Sure,” I sighed. “I do. All-too-well.”

I played polo as my late father had. I grew up hacking out and hunting with Auntie Natalie. Mamma rode growing up but wasn’t as horse-obsessed as everyone on my father’s side. Uncle Ed wasnotahorse person. He was petrified of them and stayed out of his wife’s way. He never battled over two issues—aircraft and equines. Reasoning with his former fast jet pilot wife over either was an exercise in futility.

“She said some people were coming for lunch,” Ed said. As usual, I know nothing.”

The butler arrived. “Your Royal Highnesses, Her Majesty has returned from the barn with The Princesses.”

Which princesses? That wasvague. As we proceeded to the dining room, I was greeted by Cici, Betty, and Ingrid. Ingrid’s mouth dropped. I tried not to react. It would be true torture. I couldn’t get a moment alone with her. And she looked beautiful in whatever tight breeches she was in under this table. I’d miss out on her arse. Damn it!

“Long time no see, cousin,” Cici laughed.

“No one tells us anything,” Ed grumbled to his wife.

“You wouldn’t listen anyhow, Edwin.”

“You didn’t think to text me, Betty?” I laughed, giving her a big hug.

“I didn’t know. We had no clue you’d be here. Why the hellareyou here?”

“Yes, indeed,” Ingrid said, suspect of my intentions.

Now, she thought I’d orchestrated it to see her! I wish I’d had that foresight. She gave me too much credit.

“Oh, I didn’t know if you’d make it out, so I didn’t tell your brother,” Aunt Natalie explained. “I stayed here on a wild hare and forced him to come to me. We’re checking in. Please don’t blame him. He’s not spying on you, Betty.”

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