Page 72 of The English Queen

“I understand she doesn’t have forever. Beth is aware. Again, God willing. The universe has to cooperate. That’s all. But Beth wants at least one of our children to meet Beth.”

“Margaux is strong,” Keir said. “Beth gets her spirit from her mother. Neither is invincible, but she will stick around. I don’t give credence to any end date.”

“I hope she has much more time. And I can assure you Beth will visit. I would never, ever keep her from you all.”

Keir patted Louis’s back. “I ken appreciate that, son. You will be good to her. You’re a good man.”

Louis sat with his thoughts. Keir’s approval meant the world to him. Louis better understood Beth’s iron will. She was a fighter from the start. She would never let others define her. What Louis promised her that evening was true. She was his equal. She would always be his equal and teammate. Beth was too strong to allow someone else to write her story.

As Louis and Beth retreated to bed that night, he was serene. Life would never be quiet, but they would be okay. Beth would not flee or meltdown. They were ready for this challenge. Louis gave over to the big, romantic feelings. He let go of the worries. He wanted to soak up this time with her. He only wanted them to be happy.

The English Princess

Rita arrived with Bruno and her boys in Brussels several days before the big wedding. Rita remembered being maid of honour for Vanna and pitching in at Duncan and Rebecca’s weddings, but this was other-worldly. No expense had been spared. There were so many gatherings and events taking place in the lead up. Everything was gilded and beautiful. The whole town was lit up like a bloody Christmas tree. She’d thought Vanna and Robbie’s nuptials at St. Paul’s had been ridiculously over-the-top, but the Belgians seemed to be trying to win the Most Extravagant Royal Wedding Award. Beth was a crown jewel sent to save the monarchy from ruin via succession crisis. Who would have guessed within the week, she’d be Queen?

Belgium was overwhelmed. Brits piled in, taking most of the hotel rooms. They all wanted to catch a glimpse of the royal couple. For the precious royal wedding of Louis’s sister, Princess Marie, a quarter of a million people filed into the streets. Based on tourism numbers, the police predicted more than double that number–potentially up to 750,000. More lined the streets for Vanna and Robbie Put into perspective, Brussels was a quarter the size of London. Rita and Bruno took the kids sightseeing and ran into more Brits than Belgians.

“What does that say?” Gerry asked Winston as they were crossing by a line of papers in a small bookshop attached to a café. Rita needed some tea. Bruno longed for coffee. The boys whinged about walking. It was time to take a load off.

“The English Princess,” Winston replied. “Anglais is English. Angleterre is England.”

“In Spanish, it is Engleterre. Englese,” Gerry said, making the connection. While Winston continued to pursue French at Eton and showed true aptitude for it, Gerry was trying his hand at Spanish, encouraged by Bruno and his family.

“Latinate languages are all similar,” Rita said. “You will see a lot of commonalities.”

“Cousin Beth is famous,” Gerry said.

“Cousin Beth is the draw for the week. Yes, she is famous.”

“Mum, when you married Dad, did people go mad like this?” Winston asked.

“They did a bit. Nothing to this degree. It wasn’t a royal wedding. Remember Cousin Eli’s wedding? It was a bit like that. Not like Duncan’s or especially Robbie’s. It was different. It has been ages and ages since a sitting monarch has married–not since your great-great grandfather, I believe. Louis is an anomaly.”

Bruno looked at his watch. “We need to go back soon, mi amor. Gerry has the rehearsal.”

“Yes, yes,” Rita said. Nina pressed her feet into Rita’s ribcage so hard she needed to catch her breath. She grimaced.

“You alright, Mummy?” Gerry asked, worried.

“Oh, it is only your sister trying to kill me. It’s fine.”

“Be good,” Gerry said, patting Rita’s stomach.

Despite the hoopla, Rita’s pregnancy was easy this time around. With both boys, her pregnancy had been a struggle. She was violently ill and constantly tired. In the lead up to Gerry’s birth, she had been left for dead by her husband who was out every night. She suspected he was running around. She was either unwilling to confront him or too tired to bother. Vanna and Robbie later confirmed he was out with other women. He’d been spotted. Rita was too knackered with two young children to care until years later, she had found him in their marital bed with another woman. This time, Bruno waited on her like a queen, bringing her ice cream or tea whenever she demanded.

“We will all be dressed like idiots,” Gerry groaned.

Gerry was a page boy in the wedding, as George and Paul were. Duncan’s three youngest girls and Natalie served as bridesmaids. Marie’s children would also be in the wedding. The bridal party was especially large, with Natalie and Duncan’s daughter Victoria roughly playing the role of Maid of Honour combined. Beth chose not to have a grownup in the role. She wanted Vanna to do the honours but couldn’t ask. She didn’t want to choose between her female friends. So, Beth drafted two of the older girls.

“You will be dressed as page boys. You know how this goes,” Rita said.

Winston snickered.

“You’re not helping, Winston. Gerry, Beth, and Louis have asked you to be in the wedding. It is a distinct honour to be asked to be in such an event. She is one of your godmothers!”

“It will be over in a flash and you’re getting to stay up for the reception, little man. That alone should be exciting.” Bruno patted Gerry’s back.

The group walked back up the main road towards the Palace. The boys ate chocolate while Rita digested her tea slowly given the lack of space within her. She feared she would be more blueberry than woman for the wedding. Or, rather, cherry, as all the Brits—minus Queen Maggie—had chosen to wear red in honour of Beth’s new home country. The day was warm. The sun was out. The forecast was sunny skies and lovely temperatures. Belgium had similar weather to Britain. Louis and Beth couldn’t have paid for a better weekend.

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