Page 2 of Duchess Material

Lucy helped Natalie prepare for her gala and handed her off to the social secretary, Carolyn, for the evening. Lucy took a load off, relenting and letting the chef attending to them cook her a proper dinner. It stayed down. Lucy was hungry. She shovelled rice into her stomach until she felt she might explode. Unfortunately, after that, she sat on the couch and scrolled on her laptop. Researching “antimalarials and pregnancy” taught her that antimalarials made the pill less effective.

“Well, shit,” Lucy groaned.

That called for the heavy guns. Lucy broke into the stash of cookies that Natalie’s mother overnighted them via the embassy. It was like heaven. She realised that the unplanned extracurricular she had gotten up to the night before the tour may have sunk her. She wondered if she should take a test.

No, it would put the mission in danger. The press would do anything—including go through the Princess’s trash. It was the last thing Natalie needed. So, Lucy decided to keep everything spinning, to beat her worries down, and to deal with it when she got home. Winston deserved to be there when she found out, right? But did he? They weren’t together? It was all so confusing.

Lucy fell asleep that night, knowing that Natalie was out parading around in an evening gown outshining the sun. She felt guilty and selfish for being sick. She felt bad for the pang of excitement. She felt robbed that her first taste of motherhood may have come at the worst time. She felt unprepared to make a choice about the possible baby. She feared Winston would find out sooner or later. She knew she would tell him. She wasn’t sure she could terminate this pregnancy. What on Earth would he think of her? Could she keep her job? She’d never be able to look his family or Natalie’s in the eye again.

* * *

Ed Winslow unpacked while his mother, Margaret MacDonald, put things away in the kitchen. His father, John Winslow, ignored it all, camping on the couch and watching telly. Ed had not asked his mother to do this. She never put anything where it belonged. Half of his dishes would be lost. Ed dropped the rope. He did not die on hills like this. It was pointless. He was keen to make his new place feel like home before his girlfriend returned.

“You ever watch this sort of thing and think to yourself, ‘How did I land that?’” John asked.

Ed looked up from his box of pictures and saw a newsreel of Natalie. She attended an evening gala with politicians in Ghana. She looked flawless. Of course, she’d whinged about that dress thinking it made her bum look huge. Ed could now confirm that the dress made her arse look huge, but in the best sort of way. He tried not to think about it.

“Nah. Not like that. There is Natalie and then Princess Natalie. I separate the two,” Ed replied.

“How, son? She’s a goddamn princess.”

“Well aware.”

Margaret interjected from the kitchen, “Do you ever think about the fact that she will be queen someday?”

“Try not to, mother.” Ed rolled his eyes.

Always with the questions.

Margaret came into the living room, hands on her hips. “Johnny, she should ask herself how she landed such a sweet, handsome young man.”

“Margie, she could have anyone. I told you that you should stop modelling pants, Edwin. Must be mortifying for her parents. Does she not get offended?”

“I am not modelling pants!” Ed protested. “I’m making money with what I must to avoid becoming a bloody politician. I won’t have my looks forever. Trust me, I hate it, but I like financial security.”

He did not respond to the final portion. Natalie fawned over Ed in a way that both made him feel like a god and embarrassed the hell out of him. He only put up with it because he knew she was sincere.

John pulled a face. He was the politician.

“I love Nat. She loves me—despite the ridiculousness of it. I’m sure her parents loathe it.”

“If she asked you to stop?” John asked.

“It depends. If we were very serious, sure. I don’t know we’re there yet.”

“You’re not seeing other women?” Margaret scoffed.

Ed looked horrified. “No, mother! We are exclusive.”

“But does the world know it?” Her words turned the screws.

“No. We haven’t crossed that bridge yet. That is a sticky wicket.”

“We liked her,” John said. “She’s a stunner, just like her mother.”

“Dad!”

“Jonathan!”

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