Page 39 of Duchess Material

“Nat, I didn’t mean—”

“No, maybe this won’t work.” Her face was pained.

“Baby, I didn’t mean to insinuate—”

“Either you trust me, or you don’t,” Natalie insisted. “If you don’t—”

“I do, Natalie. I hate being raked over the coals in the press.”

“Then this won’t work. “I think you should go, Ed. Spare yourself. I’m not for you.”

Ed’s throat was closing. “Na—Natalie, I love you. Very much. I wish I had been there with you as all.”

“You don’t own me, Edwin.” She did not look at him.

“I didn’t mean to insinuate—”

Eyes still averted, she said, “I think you should leave!”

Ed pushed out his chair. He wouldn’t beg her. She’d just broken his heart. What was wrong with her? She was usually so affectionate. He touched a nerve. Maybe a wound? What could he do to fix it?

* * *

Natalie arrived at her mother’s bedroom door, sobbing.

“Mummy!”

Vanna called back, “Natalie? What do you need?”

“I just… I want to talk to you. I am sorry but I need to talk to you.”

“Well, come in, darling,” her mother said.

Natalie entered to see her parents reading in bed. Oh, joy. She assumed her father was still in Scotland. He’d been there in the morning, their planes passing within miles of one another as she’d returned home. She didn’t want to see him when everything was falling apart. Natalie was suddenly embarrassed by running to her Mummy’s bedside at age thirty.

Vanna spoke tenderly, “What is the matter? Are you alright?”

Natalie shook her head.

The King put his reading glasses down and rubbed his temples. “Natalie, it cannot be so bad.”

Robbie could tolerate everyone else in the family having a meltdown. Everyone but Natalie. Her entire childhood, she’d had a short fuse—like her father—and had been admonished for it by everyone but her mother. Her mother was always there to work through her emotions. Her father treated her like a third son He allowed Georgie and Paul to have their brooding and vulnerable spells, but Natalie was exempt from this empathy. It was death by a thousand cuts.

Sobbing, she shouted, “Can you fucking not be a dick right now, Dad? I don’t have any fucks left to give—especially for you.”

“Natalie,” he said, “you need to calm down—”

Vanna glared at her husband and spoke calmly, but strong. “Robert, be nice. Let it go.”

“I just… does she need to talk to me that way?”

“You are dismissing her pain. Is she not allowed to ever cry without you reacting like it’s the end of the world?”

He didn’t respond. Vanna hit the nail on the head.

“Come, sweetie.” Vanna led her daughter to a sitting room. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Natalie collapsed into her mother’s arms and sobbed for a bit before answering. “I think I unintentionally broke up with Ed.”

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