Page 51 of The English Queen

“I don’t know. Luc can be sweet sometimes, Izzy,” Beth said.

Izzy crumpled her nose. “I don’t want to be a princess.”

“And I really didn’t want to be queen, but we don’t always get what we want,” Beth said. “I will take the bracelet and his declarations of love as a consolation prize. Also, the things he promises to do to me, and I will hold him to.”

“Such as?” Rita waggled her eyebrows.

“No comment,” Beth laughed.

“Please tell me you keep the notes,” Vanna said.

“Oh, I do. I keep them in my safe, actually. Because my biggest worry is the contents will get out. I’m fine with them ending up in the archives someday long after I am dead and gone. If people want to marvel at our love affair ages from now, I won’t fight them.”

“You never reciprocate?”

“I’m shit at it. I reciprocate in plenty of other ways, I can assure you. If he has a kink, it’s getting me off. It is, undoubtedly, the best thing I have ever done for myself.”

Rita giggled heartily “You are such a youngest child. And men go mad for you. Someday, you children will be downright embarrassed by you… full disclosure. But damn if they won’t marvel in adulthood over all you got up to. You are a wild woman. What on Earth are we doing for your last hurrah?”

“Dining like the queens we are, drinking—well those of us not with child, seeing an opera, and shopping to our heart’s content,” Izzy said. “Per Veronique.”

“It will be good fun,” Vanna said. “Oh, I need a break. I am loathe to leave Kiersten still, but I need a break from this country and soon.”

“Ladies, not to be a pain in the ass,” Bruno knocked, “But we’re twenty minutes late.”

“Bruno, darling, calm down. You’re starting to sound like Vanora. I find it exhausting,” Rita said.

“Well, I’m in good company, mi amor. But, come on, please.”

“Help me, sister,” Rita said to Izzy who helped her out of the chair.

Izzy opened the door from the bedroom where the girls had primped to the sitting room and dining room of the grandest suite at No-Mad. Men and family members milled, having begun the party.

“Mummy, you look beautiful,” Gerry threw his arms around his mother before she got five feet out the doorway.

“She does, yes. Spectacular,” Bruno agreed.

It was sweet. There wasn’t a person in the world who could have looked at Rita in a more loving, more endearing way. And she couldn’t look back with more love if she ever tried. Bruno and Rita spent a moment chatting while everyone tried to organise. However, the two were now in their own blissful little world.

“Where is Louis?” Beth asked her brother, looking around and not seeing her fiancé.

“He took a call. Ducked into the kitchen,” Robbie answered. “Also, I think Pa, Uncle Malcolm, Duncan, and Bruno were overwhelming him.”

“Ah,” Beth said. “I will go collect him and come back.”

Louis had a tendency to get overstimulated and shut down. Robbie thought it was odd but didn’t say it. Louis preferred small conversations, not ones dominated by a bunch of boisterous men talking over one another. He found this even less appealing if Beth was not around. Louis tolerated it with her. Robbie read his lack of desire to stick it out as rude or probably childish, but it wasn’t that deep to Louis. He preferred to spend less time on work in the morning. The one thing Beth found annoying about Louis at the start was his painful honesty. Now, she appreciated it about him. She never had to wonder what he was up to. He told her.

Beth found him typing on his phone.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m… well, it doesn’t matter. But, see, living proof I can look nice when I try.”

Louis didn’t quite look up but said, “Living proof? You always look great. What are you talking about, mijn liefste? Give me a second.”

“You can stop work for the night and enjoy,” Beth assured.

“I know, I know,” he said. “Fucking government.”

“You will not solve your country’s lifetime of political nonsense while drinking at a wedding. Nor will tonight give you the magic potion that wills politicians to stop acting like entitled pricks,” Beth said.

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