The Crown Jewels Boxed Set (A Crown Jewels Romantic Comedy Series)

by Melanie Summers

  He stares at me, looking utterly shocked for a moment. My heart pounds in my chest as I wonder what the penalty is for swearing at the king. What if they do have some torture devices hidden in the basement? Shit.

  He rubs his chin with one hand. “I’m going to say something to you I have never said in my life. I may have been wrong about you. You’re tougher than I thought, which, frankly, is a job requirement. Also, I think there’s a chance you’ll be good for my son.”

  I blink in surprise, then nod. “You’re bloody well right I will be. Now, where is he so I can tell him we’re back on?”

  King Winston shrugs. “If I had to guess, I’d say he’s out looking for you.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” I curtsy, then turn and hurry to the door, calling back, “Sorry for all the swearing!”

  When I get outside, Xavier is doing one-armed push-ups off the bottom step.

  “He’s not here!” I shout. “Let’s go!”

  “Where?”

  “I’ll figure it out when we get on the road.”

  I climb back into the car, then remember my phone has been shut off since I went to the hospital. I turn it on and wait impatiently for it to load. Finally, I see a text from my mum.

  “Ha! He’s at my house!”

  “Let’s go!” Xavier glances back at me, smiling in the rear-view mirror. “Oh, you may want to put on some lipstick. Do you have a hairbrush in your purse?”

  Apparently, he’s been spending too much time with my mother. His nagging has now extended from fitness to fashion. But to be fair, he’s right—I’m a bit of a mess. I search through my handbag until I find a comb, some mints, and a tube of lip gloss. By the time we pull onto Abbott Lane, I’m semi-presentable.

  “Hmm. The car’s not here,” Xavier mumbles.

  “What?”

  “I’ll pull up at the house and try to reach Ollie. You run in and see if your mum knows where he went.”

  ****

  I take the stairs two at a time, then make a sharp right into the bathroom. Xavier and Ollie managed to speak, and it turns out Arthur went to the hospital to find me but is now on his way back here. According to Xavier, I have t-minus seven to get myself looking—and smelling—gorgeous. I hear the creaking of the stairs, and my mum appears at the entrance to the bathroom. She smiles at me. “So, do you finally believe it?”

  “Believe what?” I squeeze too much toothpaste onto my brush, then go to work.

  “That you’re meant to be together.”

  “Yeah, I think so,” I say, the words muffled.

  “Believe it, Twinkle. You are enough. Just the way you are. Arthur sees it. And you need to know it deep down inside.”

  I spit out the toothpaste. “That wasn’t the only reason we broke up, you know.”

  “Yes, it was.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have started to believe that malarkey about Brooke being better. She may be better at being a lady and, well, school obviously, but she’s not better at loving Arthur.”

  I smile. “Thanks, Mum. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “You’re welcome, Twinkle.” She looks me up and down. “You should really hurry and get ready. Arthur’ll be here any minute and you look like an old school marm in that top.”

  She turns to leave, then calls over her shoulder, “Dad and I are going out for a couple of hours. I need to pick up some of that cheese at that shop I like.”

  ****

  By the time there’s a knock at the door, I’m in my little black dress, fresh knickers, and lipstick, with my hair up in a loose bun. Arthur smiles down at me. “I remember that dress.”

  “Do you?”

  “You wore it to dinner the first day we met. It drained all the blood from my brain the entire evening.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” I grin up at him, desperately wanting to pull him into the house by his tie, but I hold back.

  “I’m here to confess, then beg you to come back to me.”

  “Well, that all depends on what you’re confessing to…”

  He screws up his face, looking thoroughly embarrassed. “I’m the brains behind @WeLoveTessa.”

  “You?! But you’re always saying to just ignore all of that.”

  “Which is why I didn’t want to admit to it. It makes me a terrible hypocrite, not to mention you said my comebacks were that of a moronic teenage boy.”

  “I may have been a little harsh when I said that.”

  “I may have been a total fool to do any of it in the first place.”

  “Maybe.” I nod.

  “I also figured out who @IHateTessa was. Do you want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s just say you won’t be seeing Damien around the palace anymore.”

  My mouth drops. “Did you…have him offed?”

  “No, this isn’t Game of Thrones. We fired him.”

  “Oh, yeah, that makes more sense,” I say. “While we’re confessing, you should know I may have just zipped over to the palace and told your father off.”

  His mouth spreads into a wide grin. “Did you, now?”

  “I did. I even said fuck and told him I saved his sorry arse in the referendum.” I laugh a little, then remember Brooke. “What about Brooke? Have you figured out she likes you in a ‘more than a friend’ way?”

  “I did when I found out who’d been feeding Damien the photos of us together.”

  Gasping, I say, “It was her all along?”

  He shakes his head. “Her mother. Brooke tried to convince me she didn’t know, but when I pressed her on the subject, she fell apart, apologized profusely, then promptly tried to stick her tongue down my throat in a last-ditch effort to make me hers.”

  “I knew it!” I snap my fingers, feeling temporary satisfaction at being right, which is swiftly followed by rage at the thought of her kissing Arthur. The look on my face must show what I’m thinking.

  “Don’t worry. I set her straight.” He points to his mouth. “I told her these lips belong to Tessa Sharpe.”

  “Was she horribly disappointed?”

  “She’ll be in mourning for years to come.”

  My entire body smiles at the thought.

  Arthur grins at me. “So, do you believe me now that nothing happened?”

  “I do, and I’m sorry I didn’t before.” I nod.

  “You’re forgiven. I was acting suspicious. Very foolish of me, I know, given what was at stake.”

  “Yes, it was, which brings me to the next item on the agenda. I think we need to renegotiate the terms of our relationship.”

  “Agreed. But can I come in and kiss you first?”

  I put on my most posh voice. “If you must.”

  “I really fucking must.” He steps inside, shutting the door behind him with one foot, then takes me in his arms and lowers his mouth over mine. I close my eyes and disappear into the most passionate, amazingly wonderful, toe-curling, leg-rising-up-of-its-own-accord kiss I’ve ever had.

  When it’s over, he pulls back. “Should we go somewhere where we can be alone—for negotiation purposes? These things can take days.”

  “My parents have gone out, so we’ll have the place to ourselves for two entire hours,” I say, licking my lips. “If we’re unable to resolve our differences by then, we’ll have to reconvene in another location.”

  “You’re so deliciously naughty.”

  “That’s why you like me.”

  “Wrong.” He gives me a quick kiss on the lips, leaving me wanting more. “That’s why I love you.”

  “I say we try something new. Strip negotiation.”

  He raises one eyebrow. “I’m intrigued. What are the rules?”

  “For every one of my terms you agree to I take off an item of clothing, and the same for your terms.”

  “Deal.”

  We shake hands, then he says, “Now lose the dress.”r />
  “What?”

  “I just agreed to your first term. Dress. Off.”

  ****

  “This is Veronica Platt from the ABNC news desk. Breaking news from the palace as an official statement has been issued. Prince Arthur and Tessa Sharpe have called off their wedding, which was to have taken place three weeks from now. Giles Bigley is on location in front of the palace with more. Giles?”

  “Yes, Veronica, shock reverberates through Avonia today as Prince Arthur and Tessa Sharpe call off their wedding.”

  “The statement was very vague, not providing any indication as to the reasons behind it. Are they ending their relationship or just postponing the nuptials?”

  “Excellent question. The prince has remained silent on the matter and has yet to post on Instagram or Twitter in the past several days, but because the announcement comes on the heels of the Princess Dowager’s open-heart surgery, it could very well be that they have elected to postpone until she is able to attend the ceremony.”

  Veronica’s face falls a little. “Yes, I suppose that could be possible.”

  “I’d say it’s highly likely, Veronica. Both Tessa and Prince Arthur were seen coming and going from Valcourt Memorial last night and earlier today. It’s doubtful she would be attending the Princess Dowager’s side were she and Prince Arthur calling it quits.”

  ****

  “Oh, bugger.” Arthur sits up in bed suddenly.

  We’ve been negotiating for the past three hours now with one brief break for me to text my mum and suggest they go visit Lars and Nina for a few hours. I got a quick reply from mum which included a winkie face emoticon and a promise that they’ll be gone until after ten tonight. A little awkward if I’m to be honest, but we’re all adults here. Mostly.

  “What is it?” I ask, my brain completely unable to think up what could possibly be wrong.

  “The announcement. I forgot to call Vincent to cancel.”

  I sit up. “Oh, bugger.”

  We both take to our mobile phones and stare in horror at the dozens of notifications that we’re broken up. Arthur looks at me with wild eyes, then bursts out laughing. “Oh, sod it.”

  He grabs my mobile out of my hand and tosses it and his onto the pile of lace scraps that used to be a designer wedding gown. Then he takes me in his arms and snogs me senseless, only stopping for a second to ask, “What is that pile of shredded fabric?”

  “Oh, that? My wedding dress,” I say simply.

  He tilts his head and nods as though that makes perfect sense. “Mr. Whiskers?”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “He knew we needed a fresh start.”

  “Genius, that cat,” I say, smiling.

  “This time around, we do the whole thing our way. No tiny, nasty wedding planners, no diets, no twenty-page guest lists. Just you and me and whatever kind of wedding you want.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  My Not-So-Big, Relatively Lean Avonian Wedding

  Arthur

  June 15th - Didsbury Village

  I stand at the front of the church, with Chaz, Kyle, and Timothy at my side. I honestly have no idea why men pretend they don’t love weddings. I’m exhilarated, terrified, and madly, wildly in love at the same time as I wait for the heavy wooden doors to open and pour late-day sunlight into the ancient stone building. I also have no idea why anyone bothers with wedding planners. It took Tessa and me all of one evening to plan out the perfect wedding—in the village church, with our close friends and relatives.

  Grandmum saved our foolish arses by putting out an official statement that, while we are very much in love, we decided to postpone the wedding until she was well. I smile over at her where she sits in the front pew and gratitude sweeps through me that she can be here for this moment in my life. I say a silent prayer that she’ll be here to welcome our children to the world and love them up when they’re getting in trouble from their parents, like she did for Arabella and me. I don’t know who I would be if she hadn’t been here, but I don’t think I’d be half the man who awaits his bride.

  Oh, you’re probably wondering how I’ve become so sentimental. ‘Arthur, this doesn’t sound like you. You’re sarcastic and witty and debonair.’ Relax, I’ll get straight back to that as soon as the ceremony is over.

  I glance to my right, where my father is waiting to bestow the title of Duchess of Wellingborne, Princess of Avonia on Tessa. Oddly enough, things have gotten much better between us since I threatened to make him do all his own work. Turns out he was waiting for me to finally stand up to him so he’d know I can handle being king someday. He’s still not what you’d call a cuddly or involved dad, but he’s been trying. He smiles at me and nods. I do the same.

  Suddenly, the doors open and I see Tessa’s nieces and nephews, who are serving as our flower girls and ring bearers, all but little Eugenia, who is sleeping soundly on her dad’s shoulder in the second row. Poppy is first, sprinkling flowers on the aisle. Well, really, she’s sort of chucking fistfuls of them on the carpet. Her brother, Knox, who has a slightly quicker pace, bumps into her back, and she turns around and smacks him on the arm. “Stop it!”

  “Hurry up, you ninny!” he hisses.

  The church roars with laughter, reminding them that they are, indeed, being watched.

  The children make their way up the rest of the aisle without incident, and I give them each a wink and a fist bump as they turn to their pew.

  Then I look up and see Arabella coming down the aisle, carrying a simple bouquet of wild flowers. She’s already crying, poor thing, but she’s smiling, too. Then Nikki is next, and I do a double-take. Her hair is light brown today. She looks…normal. Very presentable.

  They make their way down the aisle, Arabella stopping to hug me. “I’m so happy!”

  I hug her back. “Me, too.”

  She pulls back and narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t fuck this up, Arthur. I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

  “You and Gran both.”

  Nikki comes up behind her and does a little curtsy in front of me and my father. I lean toward her and point to her hair. “Natural colour?”

  She nods and shrugs.

  “You look rather fetching.”

  Her cheeks turn pink. “Charmer.”

  The trumpets sound the first notes of Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March”, and I snap to attention. There she is, flanked on either side by her parents. At first she’s only a silhouette against the pink and orange sky, but then she takes a few steps forward and I see her for the first time. My princess.

  Her dress belonged to her grandmother. It’s a simple long-sleeved lace gown that trails behind her, causing her to look like she’s walking on air. Behind the veil, she smiles, her eyes set only on me as she makes her way down the aisle, arms hooked through those of her parents. Her eyes glisten with emotion, and mine do the same. Each step she takes brings me more to life, makes me that much fuller. A lump forms in my throat, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to speak at all when it’s time.

  When they reach us, I vibrate with the purest joy. She turns to her mother, who lifts her veil and sobs loudly, then kisses her on the cheek. “Imagine my little girl becoming a princess.”

  Evi turns to me and says, “Be good to each other. None of the rest matters.”

  I nod, and we kiss each other on both cheeks. “Thanks, Mum.”

  As soon as I say it, I know it was a mistake because she bursts into tears, patting my cheek in a most undignified way. Oh, well, sod it all. We’re family now. A little show of emotion never hurt anyone, I suppose.

  Ruben shakes my hand, gripping my elbow firmly with his other hand. His eyes say what he’s too polite to—and it’s pretty much the same message as Arabella’s.

  Why is it everyone assumes I’ll fuck this up? It could just as easily be Tessa. I nod and murmur to him, “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll take good care of her.”

  Ruben’s eyes well up a bit, and he sniffles, the
n takes his wife’s arm and leads her to the spots waiting for them in the front pew.

  And now it’s just the two of us grinning at each other like fools. “You’re so beautiful, I can hardly breathe.”

  Tessa tears up, then says, “You wore your naval uniform. Good choice.”

  “I knew it would get you going,” I whisper. “Should we do this?”

  “Yes, let’s get it over with,” she says.

  “No, I intend to savour every second of the best day of my life.”

  We turn to the minister, who stands next to my father. And the next ten minutes are a blur because I can’t concentrate on anything other than how in love I am with the woman standing next to me.

  She turns to me, and I snap out of it, remembering it’s time for the vows. Little Knox, who has the real rings, stands between us, holding up the pillow and grinning smugly back at his brothers. Oh, they learn that early, don’t they?

  I take Tessa’s ring off the pillow, then lift her left hand with mine. “I, Arthur Winston Phillip George Charles Edward, take thee, Tessa Adelaide, to be my wife. I promise to love, comfort, support, and keep you, forsaking all others, for all the days of my life.”

  I gently slide the ring onto her finger, and then our eyes meet. “Your turn,” I whisper.

  “I, Tessa Adelaide, take thee, Arthur Winston Phillip George Charles Edward, to be my husband. I promise to love, comfort, support, and keep you, forsaking all others, for all the days of my life.”

  I watch as she slides the most symbolic and meaningful piece of jewelry I’ll ever wear onto my finger.