Page 123 of Duchess Material

“He’s not. But I’d be livid if he stepped out with another woman like this, Daddy.”

“He goes on TV with a woman, doesn’t he?”

“She’s a lesbian!”

“Oh.”

“I have an idea,” Vanna said. “It just might work.”

“What?” Natalie now crossed her arms. Knowing she looked the spitting image of her father, she uncrossed them.

“We can send you and your sister together. You and Kiersten could both go.”

“Kiersten?!”

“What, Dad, worried she might run off with him? Actually get laid?”

“Natalie!”

“No, I was just thinking she could disrupt any concerns about… a romantic linkage between the two of you—Natalie and Allan,” Vanna explained.

“I’m fine with that. Nor will I cockblock her.”

“Oh my God, Natalie! Please never say that again. Sometimes I worry you are Duncan’s and not mine!”

“Excuse me, Robert?” Vanna glared at her husband.

“No, not accusing you. By some miracle… it’s an expression. I would never—”

“Uh-huh.” Vanna continued to shoot him a look of disgust.

“It was a careless—”

Natalie cheerfully said, “Okay, well, have fun sleeping alone in your room. I will only go if you send us both.”

The King acquiesced. Natalie and Kiersten were sent, together, to escort Allan Walsh to the premiere of an environmental documentary that he produced. Allan was attractive, but not Natalie’s type. He wasn’t nearly tall enough at maybe five-foot-nine. In heels, she towered over him. He was a pretty boy. His impeccable bone structure was fit for a man who had risen to prominence first as a member of a boy band and second as a model-slash-actor, but not suited for the sort of rugged men Natalie preferred.

As they entered the theatre, Natalie realised that she was about to be completely off the hook. Kiersten was absorbed with their charge. Now, Natalie was convinced she needed to end this and run off with her young, impressionable sister. After all, Allan was older than Natalie. Kiersten was still a baby. And she was mooning over the little rake!

They took their seats, Allan sitting between them, and watched the documentary. Ed loved documentaries to Natalie’s dismay. So, she had seen some “good” ones in her time. This was nothing more than well-shot navel-gazing with lots of celebrities moaning on about how jets and cars with gas were ruining the world. Meanwhile, they lived in places where you couldn’t grow grass but did so anyway with a lot of water, they shouldn’t have had access to. They drove fast cars and took private jets every which way. It was an easy pick—personal behaviour over requiring companies to make more ethical choices. This was tiresome.

As they dispersed from their seats, he asked, “Either of you interested in getting a drink after this? I know a place.”

Natalie resisted the urge to tell him to fuck off back to America, but she didn’t. She would never understand the charm of an American accent. It bored her to tears. It sounded like her mum. There was nothing notable or unique about it. Kiersten had the same genetic condition their father and brother had. She found it irresistible.

“We must go home. We’re on a leash. Busy day tomorrow.” Natalie lied to get them gone.

“Nat, I don’t have to go.”

“Yes, yes you do,” Natalie said.

“Being a princess must be the worst job then,” Allan chuckled.

“It’s not all fun and games, no.”

They departed. Kiersten looked sour as they left in their car.

“Don’t look at me like that, K,” Natalie said.

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