He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Oh, yes, I found it right away, but then I just decided that it might be fun to keep going through this box for kicks.” He gave me a withering look. “Of course, I didn’t. Not yet.” He picked up a pile of old sweaters before hesitating again. “Did you need something, or did you just come up to heckle me?”
“I wanted to tell you something.” I leaned against the doorjamb and crossed my arms over my chest. “I wanted to tell you that I’m very happy about the duchess title, but that honestly, the titles or what people call me don’t matter a bit. The only title I want to wear after Friday is that of your wife. It’s the only one that really counts.”
Nicky’s eyes soften. “Come here.”
I began to back away. “Oh, no, buddy. I see that expression on your face, and it means you want to toss me down on that bed and . . . well, we both know what would happen next. But we don’t have time—we have to be at Windsor before dinner tonight—and also, we agreed we’d abstain this week, so that our wedding night is special.”
He snorted. “Our wedding night is going to be special regardless of whether you let me toss you on this bed right now . . . and we didn’t so much agree as you suggested it, and I didn’t put up a fight. But you are right about the time. We need to leave in about fifteen minutes, and I still haven’t found—” His face lit up, and with a jerk, he pulled out a folded blue robe, the type usually worn by father figures on old black and white television shows. “Aha! Got it.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Oh, wow. Well, hey, baby, now that I see that robe, I’m all for having you do me right here on this bed. It’s sexy, honey.”
“You know it.” Nicky rubbed his hand over the cloth and laughed. “It’s not meant to be sexy. It’s supposed to be dignified and keep me covered while I’m staying at a royal palace where Her Majesty is also in residence.”
“Then you’re in luck, because it’s all that.” I pushed off the doorjamb. “Now that the robe crisis is averted, I’m going to make one final check and close my suitcases. I’m also going to refrain from pointing out that I was all packed by this morning.”
“You have the advantage of having your gown and shoes and so on transported by the designer,” Nicky retorted. “I have to organize everything I’m going to wear for the wedding itself, along with all the other clothes I need.” He shook his head. “Maybe I need a valet, like my father and my uncles have.”
“And that’s a conversation for another day.” I headed down the short hall toward our bedroom, where I looked around carefully to make sure I’d packed everything I would need for the next three days. We’d be at Windsor from tonight through our wedding day, though our wedding night would be spent in seclusion at a small house on the grounds of Windsor Castle. And just to make sure that there was no accidental sighting of the bride by the groom on the wedding day itself, before we met at the church, my family and I would be housed at Fort Belvedere, a large home that was also on the Windsor grounds.
Within fifteen minutes, Nicky had carried all of our bags downstairs and was helping Harold load them into the car. I lingered in the doorway, looking back into the small cottage, thinking of everything we’d said and done and experienced here.
“Why the nostalgia eyes, sweetheart?” Nicky took my hand. “We’re coming back here after the honeymoon.”
“Oh, I know that.” I reached for the doorknob to draw the door shut behind us. “Only then, we’ll be here as a married couple. The Duke and Duchess of Kendal. Not just Nicky and Ky anymore. I needed to take a moment and remember that we’ve had some pretty amazing times as just Nicky and Ky.”
“But just wait. The Duke and Duchess are going to have even more wonderful days.” Nicky pulled me to him and kissed my forehead. “I promise you that. Now, have you taken your moment? Are you ready to go?”
I smiled into the eyes that shone with love for me and only me—forever. “I’m ready. Let’s go get married.”
20
I opened my eyes on my wedding day to a world of blue skies, soft air and vivid green grass. It was as though this day had been painted with my favorite colors just to honor Nicky and me.
For a few minutes, I lay in bed, savoring my last quiet, solitary moments as a single girl. I knew that shortly, my breakfast would be delivered on a tray, and not long after that, my mother, Honey and my sisters would descend upon the room to help me prepare for my wedding ceremony.
My gown was already here, on a display form in a locked bedroom just down the hall, where I’d dress and have my hair and makeup done in just a little while. Cassa was supposed to be on hand within a couple of hours to make sure everything went well with the gown. She was nearly as nervous today as I was; having a royal bride wear one of her designs was a huge coup, and her studio was braced for the onslaught of publicity once the Palace released the statement naming her as the designer and describing the dress.
“Happy wedding day!” Lisel and Bria burst through the door, jumping onto my bed the way only little sisters can. “Can you believe it? Today you’re marrying a freakin’ prince, Ky!”
“No.” I pushed to sit up, plumping my pillows behind me. “Today I’m marrying Nicky, the man I love. The prince part is just window decoration. It doesn’t really matter.”
“Everyone knows that, Kyra.” Lisel sighed heavily. “But he is a prince. You can’t separate him like an egg. If he were just Nicky, his grandmother the Queen wouldn’t be sitting front and center at the ceremony and throwing you a kick-ass party afterward.”
“Her Majesty is hosting a wedding luncheon for us, and please don’t refer to it as kick-ass at any time.” I glared at my sister. “Behave yourselves today, both of you.”
“As if we’d do anything different, Ky.” Bria kicked off her shoes and slid under the covers with me. “You know you can trust us.”
“Yes, I do.” I laid my head on Bria’s shoulder and reached out to squeeze Lisel’s hand. “I’m glad you’re both here with me today.”
“Where else would we be? Breakfast is on its way. Mama and Honey will be here in a minute—we’re all going to eat with you this morning.”
“Perfect.” I stretched. “It looks like a beautiful day, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, it is. I already went for a run this morning.” Lisel nodded. “And oh, my God, Ky. You should see all the press trucks down by the church. One of my friends from school texted that their TV stations have preempted all the usual shows so they can broadcast your wedding.”
“No pressure or anything,” added Bria.
“None at all.” I crossed my eyes and stuck out my tongue. “It’s all right. I already knew there was going to be a lot of coverage in the US. Let’s face it—royal weddings are always a big deal in the states, and because the bride’s American . . .” I shrugged.
“You’re the bride.” Lisel’s voice held a hint of surprised wonder. “Oh, my God, Ky, you’re the bride. I think it’s just hitting me now.”
“If it hadn’t, the big white dress I’m about to put on would’ve given it away.” I nudged her with my foot.
“I know, but . . . I guess I’ve known it on one level, but I’m only now realizing the reality of the whole thing.” My sister bit her lip. “I can’t believe you’re getting married today, Ky. Everything is going to change.”
“Not really.” I didn’t want to start getting sentimental this early in the day, or I’d never make it down the aisle with my makeup intact. “Life is going to be just like it is, only now it’ll be official. You’re used to me being away—I’ve been living somewhere other than home for over eight years, whether it was in Florida or Maine or now England.” I pulled up my knees and hugged them to me. “And now when you come visit me, everything will be easier. I’ll be official, so I won’t have to worry so much—and eventually, we’ll have a home big enough for you to all come and stay.”
There was a knock on the door, and a maid in a black uniform appeared, wheeling ahead of her a cart covered in silver dom
es. “Good morning, Ms. Duncan. Are you ready for breakfast?”
I glanced at my sisters and took a deep breath. “Good morning. Yes, please. I think it’s time we get this day started.”
After breakfast, everything seemed to speed up, and suddenly, it felt as though there were hundreds of people coming in and going out, everyone talking at once and giving me information. My head was spinning, and I probably would’ve run to the corner to cry if it hadn’t been for my mother, Lady Marjorie and Sophie, all of whom kept me moving with brisk instructions and guiding hands.
I went from my breakfast tray in bed, with Bria, Lisel, Honey and my mother sitting with me, eating too, directly to the shower. When I emerged in my robe—a special one my mother had brought to me specifically for the day, so that I looked bridal even in the prep photos that she and Bria kept taking—my bedroom was filled with chattering women.
“Oh, look, there she is!” Cassa lifted her mimosa in salute to me. “We’re just watching all the news coverage that’s already on today. There’s still no leak on the gown, so that’s good.”
“Ms. Duncan, we’ll need to begin your hair and makeup right away.” The stylist we’d hired for the day beckoned to me. “Everything is set up down the hall.”
My mother patted my back. “Would you like me to come with you? Your grandmother, the girls and I should probably start getting ready ourselves, actually.”
“No, thanks.” I shook my head. “I don’t want anyone who isn’t working on me in the room until I’m completely ready. I want the big reveal, with dress, hair, makeup—everything—at just the right moment.”
“I never knew you to have such a flair for the dramatic,” my mother laughed.
“No,” agreed Honey, pausing to give me a quick hug. “But today Kyra’s a bride, and that means she’s entitled to all the flair she wants, dramatic or otherwise.”
I’d never been the sort of girl who spent hours in front of a mirror trying different hair styles or new makeup routines, not even when I was a teenager. I’d always had more interest in being outside. But in the months leading to my wedding day, the stylists had visited me several times so that we could practice techniques and come up with the perfect look for this bride.
So when I turned to the mirror once they’d finished drying my hair, setting curlers and putting more product than I’d ever known existed on my face, I wasn’t completely surprised by the result—but I was very pleased.
I looked like me—just a little bit refined. We’d had to exaggerate some of my eye makeup to make sure I didn’t fade in photographs, but it didn’t look garish or too much; the artist had done a skillful job of blending everything perfectly.
My hair was smooth and shining, part of it caught back with pins and the rest hanging in fat perfect curls over my shoulder. Even in my robe, I felt beautiful and bridal.
“Are you ready for the tiara, Kyra?” The hair stylist met my eyes in the mirror. “I’ll have to call for it.”
“What time is it?” Out of habit, I reached for my phone, but of course, it wasn’t in the pocket of my robe.
“You have about thirty minutes before we’ll need to start putting on your dress.” The stylist had both her phone and a printed itinerary for this morning, a paper that laid out in minute detail everything that had to happen leading up to our departure for the chapel.
“Then I guess the answer is yes.” I smiled. “By the time they bring the tiara from the vault and you make sure it’s secure on my head, it’ll be time to call in Cassa.”
Three months ago, I’d had an invitation from Her Majesty to come and view her tiaras so that together we could decide which one would be suitable for me to borrow for my wedding day. It was a tradition that the incoming royal bride wore one of the family’s many jeweled head pieces, and so in preparation the night before, I’d poured over old pictures with Nicky’s mother and Alex as we’d tried to decide which one might suit me the best.
And then over tea, the Queen had shown me the options, telling me stories about each one and giving me another glimpse into her wicked sense of humor.
“Sapphires have always been a favorite of mine, and my father, King George VI, gave me a lovely set of them for my wedding gift. Later I had this made to match that jewelry.” Her Majesty lifted a beautiful ornate crown. “But I think it might be too much for you, particularly with the blue.”
“It’s amazing, but yes, I think you’re right.”
“And this one is a dazzler, isn’t it? It’s called the Kokoshnik Tiara. It was a gift to my great-grandmother, Queen Alexandra, on the occasion of her wedding anniversary.” She paused. “You’ll remember that she was Queen Victoria’s daughter-in-law.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I leaned down to get a better look. “It’s exquisite, but I think it might be too ornate for my gown.” And my head, I thought to myself.
“I agree.” The Queen reached for another velvet box. “Now I don’t want to influence your choice, but in my opinion, this one might be exactly perfect for you . . .”
“Ms. Duncan, the tiara is here. We’re ready to place it.”
I held my head as still as I could as the antique jeweled piece was lifted from the box and positioned low on my head. The Lotus Flower Tiara had a charming Art Deco feel, which was right as it had been created in the 1920’s by the late Queen Mother, Nicky’s great-grandmother, from a necklace that her husband had given her on their own wedding day. It wasn’t so overwhelming that it would make me feel ridiculous, but it had enough glitter and shine that there wasn’t any doubt I was the bride. The soon-to-be duchess.
“Oh, Kyra, it’s perfection itself.” The hair stylist stood back, clasping her hands together. “And once you have the gown on, we’ll attach the veil.”
“All right, then. Let’s send for Cassa.”
My mother was right that I was usually the polar opposite of a dramatic woman. But from the time Nicky and I had announced our engagement, I’d had a vision of how I wanted to reveal my gown to my family. Marrying into the Royal Family meant that my own family was definitely less involved in the wedding planning than they would’ve been had I married an ordinary man in the states. I’d asked for advice and input from them wherever I felt I could, but for the most part, both the distance and the situation resulted in them being slightly apart from the entire process.
So this was my way of giving us a small private space, a moment where it would be just us, one last time.
“They’re here and waiting just outside,” Cassa announced, kneeling to adjust one more time the way the hem of my gown lay on the thick maroon carpet. “I’ll open the doors, and then I’ll discreetly fade away. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes with the rest of the crew to get you and your father into the car.”
“Thank you, Cassa.” I snagged her hand as she walked by me. “Seriously. I can’t imagine having anyone else make this dress or this day as perfect as you have. I am so grateful.”
The designer wagged her eyebrows and shot me a wicked grin. “Ky, darling, you’re about to make my career. The thanks are entirely owed to you. Now take a deep breath. You’re about to be revealed.”
So saying, she threw open the doors and then slipped through them, vanishing down the hallway. I didn’t pay much attention to exactly where she went, because I was too busy watching my family’s faces.
“Oh, Kyra.” My mother was the first to speak. “Oh, sweetie. You’re just . . .”
“Breathtaking.” Honey completed her sentence. “Perfection.”
“You look incredibly beautiful—but you look like you.” My father grinned at me. “My little girl is still in there, among all the satin and lace.”
“It isn’t satin, son,” Honey corrected. “It’s silk. But you’re absolutely right that everything about it is quintessentially Ky.”
My sisters, in their own coordinating pale pink gowns, approached me, walking all the way around to get the full effect.
“What’s that embroidered on the lace of the veil?
” asked Lisel.
“Hyacinth.” I smiled. Nicky had declared himself to me last spring—was it only last spring?—by spelling out his feelings with my favorite spring flower. “They’re very special for Nicky and me.”
“It’s perfect.” Bria took one step toward me and then stopped. “Okay, I can’t hug you right now the way I want. But consider the hug implied. You’re everything I ever dreamed a bride might be, Kyra. You’re just lovely.”
Honey sighed. “I just keep thinking how proud and pleased Handsome is right now, my sweet girl.”
I touched my fingers to my lips to keep them from trembling. “I know, Honey. I almost feel him here.”
“This is the last time we’ll all be together before you join another family.” My mother dabbed at her eyes. “I feel like there’s so much I should say—so many words of wisdom I should pass on—but at the same time, I’ve forgotten them all.”
“We don’t need to heap sentimental words on each other.” My father’s eyes never left my face. “We don’t need to do that, because we live out the reality of that sentiment every day. We don’t have to remind you how much we all love you, Kyra, because we’ve told you and shown you every day since you were born. And you don’t have to tell us, because you’ve demonstrated it, too.” He cleared his throat. “Handsome might not be here where we can see him, but we know his spirit is always with us. And I’ll remind you that he used to say if you live in love, you’ll never have regrets. Mom, you and Dad taught all of us how to do that. You’ve been amazing examples. And now Kyra’s going to build her own family on that foundation of love.” His voice cracked a little. “We—your mother and I—we couldn’t be prouder of you, sweetheart. I hope you know that.”
“I do.” The lump in my throat made it difficult to speak. “You never made me doubt it. This life I’m living now—I could never have had the confidence to jump into it if you all weren’t there for me. Even when it looks as though I’m on my own and I know what I’m doing, it’s really only because you have given me that faith in myself. I carry all of you with me, every single day. And I always will.”
The Anti-Cinderella Takes London Page 18
