The Anti-Cinderella Takes London

by Tawdra Kandle

  Cassa reappeared and rapped on the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s about that time. Mrs. Duncan—well, both Mrs. Duncans—and Bria and Lisel, your car is out front waiting to take you to the chapel. Kyra, we’ll give them a five-minute head start, and then I’ll help you and Mr. Duncan on your way.”

  My mom and Honey each took one of my hands and squeezed it. “See you at the church, darling.”

  After the other four had left, my dad stood in front of me, beaming affectionately. “Now it’s just you and me, kid. I’ll do what every good father has done since time eternal, and tell you it’s not too late to make a run for it. Are you sure about this? About Nicky, about this being a duchess thing?”

  “Daddy.” I risked smudging my lipstick and kissed his cheek. “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my entire life. Nicky’s the man I’m going to love forever. The duchess part is just window dressing. If he decided tomorrow to become an itinerant farmer and travel the world, I’d throw all of these trappings to the side and follow him.”

  “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He offered me his arm. “Now, are you ready to head for the church? I happened to catch a glimpse of Nicky on TV this morning, and I have a feeling he’s chomping at the bit to get a look at you.”

  I gave my dad the widest, most brilliant smile in the world.

  “Then let’s not keep the man waiting.”

  The Wedding

  By Garrett Smith

  I spent a crazy amount of time trying to come up with the perfect title for this week’s column, but in the end, there wasn’t much else to call it beyond what I did.

  The marriage ceremony of His Royal Highness Prince Nicholas, the new Duke of Kendal, to Ms. Kyra Duncan of the United States of America might not have been the wedding of the century or even the decade. The prince isn’t in close line for the throne; there are plenty of other male and female relations standing in front of him. He’s a grandson of the Queen, but he’s one of her many grandchildren.

  Be that as it may—the wedding that took place yesterday at St. George’s Chapel in Windsor captured the imagination of the world. It was a love story, and a royal love story, at that. No one can resist such a thing.

  Those of you who have become regular readers of this column in the short time I’ve been writing it will know that I’m not exactly the type to wax on about fashion and romance. That’s why I asked my girlfriend to give us the official description of the wedding gown and everything else involved in that part of the ceremony.

  According to Sophie, the gown was made of white silk and boasted a beau neckline with an A-line skirt. The fabric was simple and unadorned except for the small ribbon belt at the natural waistline. The bride wore the famous Lotus Flower Tiara, borrowed from Her Majesty the Queen’s collection, and a long veil embroidered with hyacinth, a spring flower that is apparently of personal significance to both the bride and groom.

  The bride was attended by her two sisters, Ms. Lisel Duncan and Ms. Bria Duncan, as well as by a number of pages and flower girls, all of whom were relations or friends of the prince. The exception was the inclusion of Miss Natasha Colward, whom the former Ms. Duncan met in the course of her work as patron of the Tottenham Community Gardens.

  The bride was escorted up the aisle by her father, Mr. Sage Duncan. Sitting on the bride’s side of the church were her mother, Niki Duncan, and her grandmother, Maggie Duncan, as well as other relatives from the states. The bride’s late grandfather, Cal Duncan, was represented by an empty seat left in the front row.

  At the close of the ceremony, before the new Duke and Duchess recessed out of the church, they paused at the empty chair, and the Duchess left a sprig of flowers there in the vacant chair, in memory of her grandfather.

  The ceremony was performed by the Bishop of York and by Bishop Lewis Connor of Philadelphia, the bride’s home diocese. Music included favorite hymns of both the bride and groom as well as a solo of Ave Maria sung by the soprano Della O’Roarke.

  Once they emerged into the sunshine of the spring day, the couple paused at the top of the steps, and to the delight of the gathered crowd, shared their first kiss as husband and wife.

  After the service, the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh hosted a wedding luncheon for a hundred and fifty guests at Windsor Castle. Later that night, the Duke and Duchess of Westhampton threw a larger, more relaxed party for three hundred at nearby Fort Belvedere. For that party, the bride changed into a short white dress with a full skirt and white Converse sneakers. In attendance were many celebrities, including music star Ed Sheeran, who serenaded the couple for their first dance.

  The Duke and Duchess of Kendal will be on their honeymoon at an undisclosed location for the next two weeks, after which time they will return to London to resume their official duties, including the Duchess’s job as sourcing director for her family’s company, Honey Bee Juices.

  In this column, I’m allowed to step outside my strict journalistic impartiality and comment as I see fit. As an American, I’ve always been a little cynical about the Royal Family, and when I took a job covering Ms. Duncan after she moved to London, I didn’t expect that to change.

  But I’ll admit that getting to know her and seeing the good that she and her now-husband are doing for Great Britain is refreshing. Prince Nicholas and Kyra are not stuffy, old-fashioned people; like the prince’s cousins, I believe they’re going to bring a much-needed breath of fresh air to the Royal Family. And they’re doing this on their own terms, in thoroughly modern and personal ways. I applaud them for this.

  In closing, I’m taking the opportunity to make a few more personal announcements. First, this will be my final column for this publication. I’ve been offered a position covering science and technology for a well-known British news magazine, and I’m eager to get back to my first love. Thank you for your support of this column; I hope you’ll consider following me in my new role.

  Second, speaking of love, I’m also pretty damn happy to announce my own engagement to Ms. Sophie Kent, former press liaison for the Duchess of Kendal. Ms. Kent recently left that position to take a job as head of public relations for Honey Bee Juices.

  The wedding will take place sometime this fall, but I can promise that it won’t be anywhere near as grand as the one we attended yesterday. Still, both weddings will have some things in common: a lot of love between the bride and groom, a hot kiss after we say I do . . . and a kick-ass party afterward.

  Thanks for reading.

  Epilogue

  “Sir.”

  The soft knock on our bedroom door jolted me awake. I glanced down to see if the sound had disturbed Kyra, but she didn’t move a muscle. Her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted as she breathed, slow and even. The white sheet covered her breasts, but just barely. I smiled as I thought of what lay beneath the sheet and of what we’d just enjoyed together.

  So far, married life was pretty damn sweet.

  I stood up carefully and reached for my pants, pulling them on and buttoning the fly before I opened the door and stepped out onto the wide verandah of our thatched hut.

  The man who’d knocked wore a plain gray suit that was in sharp contrast with our surroundings. The swaying palm trees, white sand and crystal-clear ocean water didn’t exactly lend themselves to business attire. But I knew that this man wasn’t here for pleasure. He was part of the security detail assigned to Kyra and me; even on this remote tropical island, safety was a concern. While the men and women who protected us here wore more relaxed clothes suited to a vacation in order to blend in, Mr. Pearson was the head of the contingent, doing his work from behind a desk in an office. He didn’t need to dress the part.

  But if he was here, interrupting the late afternoon nap that Kyra and I had been enjoying, something serious was the matter. Immediately, my thoughts went to my grandmother, the Queen, who while seemingly in robust health, was in her nineties. No one lived forever, but even so, I wasn’t quite ready to say good-bye to my belove
d Granny yet.

  As if reading my thoughts, Mr. Pearson shook his head. “It’s not the Queen, sir. To the best of my knowledge, Her Majesty is in good health.”

  “All right.” I expelled a long breath. “Thanks for that. What’s going on, then?”

  “I hate to bother you during this time, but I felt you’d want to know. The Palace has received another threat directed to you. This time . . . it seems to be more serious and more credible.”

  I nodded, my face impassive. Anyone in the public eye quickly became used to rants and accusations from nut jobs and other angry people. It was impossible to make everyone happy, and trying to do that was a losing game. The Royal Family was no exception. My family could piss off the population simply by existing, it seemed; there were always those who hated what they saw as our undeserved privilege and our place in history. Some despised us for the past actions of our ancestors.

  As I said, some people are just looking for a reason to hate.

  But in the past few months, my office at Kensington Palace had received an escalating number of letters, emails and messages from people opposing my work to protect the environment and to provide healthy food for those in danger of hunger and starvation. Feeding the hungry seemed like a fairly innocuous cause to espouse, yet I’d learned quickly that there were those who opposed how that might be accomplished. I’d been told that if people were hungry, they should learn to take care of themselves. I’d been accused of being a bleeding heart, an ignorant aristocrat and even a communist.

  At first, we’d all laughed off the letters and ignored them. I supposed Scotland Yard had investigated them, as they did most threats, but I hadn’t worried. And then about a month before the wedding, the head of our security forces at Kensington Palace had asked for a meeting with me, during which he’d laid out their concerns.

  It seemed that there was an organization working to thwart both environmental protection and food sourcing options. Scotland Yard was still working on identifying the people who were part of the group, but apparently, they represented the interests of several high-profile businesses who’d built their wealth on oil, coal and agricultural products. They weren’t willing to consider the environmental consequences of those businesses, at least not if addressing the results impacted the all-important bottom line.

  Still, even when I saw the very grave expression on the face of our security chief, I wasn’t worried. Yes, I was fully aware that there were dangers. I’d seen that when my sister Alex and her first fiancé Grayson had been attacked by the crazy man who’d been stalking her. Alex had survived, but Grayson had not, and his memory was a constant reminder that we were all always at risk.

  But would anyone really be that upset about my work? Would the organization truly try to stop me through violence? I doubted it. Protests and angry letters, maybe. They might try to plant stories about me in the press to discredit me and the charities I championed. But I didn’t think I was in actual peril.

  That was why I hadn’t mentioned anything to Kyra. She’d had enough on her mind, between preparing for the wedding, learning how to be royal and working to establish her own platform. In the weeks leading up to our marriage, she’d been happier and more herself than I’d seen her since before her grandfather had died. I wasn’t going to ruin that by telling her that some lunatic might be planning to blow me up.

  Now I gestured for Mr. Pearson to follow me down the steps of the verandah, onto the lawn, walking several yards away from our hut.

  “My wife is sleeping, and I’d prefer not to wake her, especially with this.” Even in the midst of my worry, it still blew my mind to say those words. My wife. Sometimes it felt that I’d been waiting a lifetime for that privilege. Kyra was everything I’d ever wanted. I was amazed that she had chosen me.

  “Of course, sir.” Mr. Pearson lowered his voice. “And there isn’t anything that needs to change right now. We’ve discussed it, and the consensus is that you should continue with your honeymoon. After all, you’re probably safer here, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, than you would be anywhere else.”

  “Maybe we should just stay here forever, then.” I was only half-joking. Living with Ky on a beach in a hut, thousands of miles from the rest of the world, sounded like heaven to me.

  Apparently, Mr. Pearson assumed I wasn’t at all serious, as he ignored what I’d said. “Once you return to London, though, we’d like to meet with you and discuss some options for ensuring your safety, particularly as you have some very high-profile engagements planned this summer. We’ll want to look at the security at the cottage and of course, we’ll want to increase coverage for the Duchess. She’ll be at risk, too.”

  At that, my heart began to pound. On some level, I’d known that as my wife, Kyra would be pulled into this mess, but I’d ignored it. But now, as the truth hit home, I was fully aware of one thing: I’d do anything to protect the woman I loved. Anything.

  “We won’t be discussing this again until I’m back home. Until my honeymoon is over.” I spoke crisply. “Unless you feel something is threatening us here, on this island, I don’t want to think about it. Are we clear?”

  “Of course, sir.” Pearson was unfazed. “I won’t bother you again unless something changes. When we’re all back in England, we’ll re-assess everything.”

  “Fine.” I nodded, and the security officer took his cue to leave.

  Climbing back onto the porch, I took a few moments to settle myself, breathing deeply of the salty, humid air before I stepped back into the hut.

  “Nicky?” Kyra stirred, her eyes barely open. “Are you all right?”

  “How could I be anything else?” I shed my pants again and climbed into bed, sliding beneath the covers. “I’m here in this paradise with the most beautiful, fascinating, sexiest woman in the world, who just happens to be my wife. There’s nothing in the universe that could make me anything less than perfectly blissful.”

  A slow smile curved her lips. “Prove it.”

  I felt my body react to her words and her presence. “Again?”

  “Always.” Turning to me, she opened her arms and drew me against her soft warmth. “Love me, Nicky.”

  As I lowered my lips to hers, I murmured one word.

  “Forever.”

  The End?

  Not Quite.

  The Anti-Cinderella Conquers the World

  releases in May!

  The History of the Duke of Kendal Title

  As shared with Kyra by the Queen

  * * *

  The titles associated with Kendal have always been bestowed on those with close association with the Royal Family.

  There have been four Earls of Kendal and two Barons of Kendal.

  The first Duke of Kendal was the son of the Duke of York, who would later be known as James II. Born in 1666, he died as an infant.

  In 1719, Ehrengard von der Schulenberg was created Duchess of Kendal by George I. She was his mistress. The title was for life only and expired upon her death.

  At this time, there are no living holders of the dukedom.

  The Anti-Cinderella Takes London Play List

  The Anti-Cinderella Takes London Play List

  * * *

  Better Together Jack Johnson

  Perfect Ed Sheeran

  Diamonds on the Inside Ben Harper

  Thinking Out Loud Ed Sheeran

  Feels Like Home Chantal Kreviazuk

  Hearts Don’t Break Around Here Ed Sheeran

  To Make You Feel My Love Brooks Jefferson

  Supermarket Flowers Ed Sheeran

  Unlike Me Kate Havnevik

  Be Here Now Molly Moore

  Acknowledgments

  When I finished writing The Anti-Cinderella last year, I had already decided that there would be two more books in the main trilogy. I knew the second book would take place leading up to Kyra and Nicky’s wedding, and the third would cover their first year of marriage.

  However, it wasn’t easy to write book two as I�
�d anticipated. I had plot obstacles as well as well personal ones. It’s not easy to write a love story once they’re already on their way to happily ever after. I needed to keep their romance alive, while at the same time giving them challenges to overcome. I hope I’ve managed to do that.

  Book three is already begun and will pick up at the end of this book. I’m also excited because although books one and two have been almost exclusively presented from Kyra’s point of view, we’re going to get a little more Nicky insight in The Anti-Cinderella Conquers The World.

  Another challenge to writing this book was time. My very first grandchild, my granddaughter Delia Joy, was born in the midst of my deadline weeks. For the first time, I allowed myself some freedom to enjoy family at the expense of my writing time. After all, babies are not small for very long at all—barely the blink of an eye. And it’s not easy to write love scenes while holding that adorable infant. Pushing back the release date was not a choice I made lightly, but it’s one I would make again!

  My thanks to Kara Schilling and Carla Edmonson, who have been so devoted and generous with their time in beta reading this book. Thanks also to Meg Murrey and Stacey Blake, who supplied cover art and interior design respectively. Their work is exquisite, and I am grateful.

  I’m also grateful to the writers and producers of the television series The Crown for insight and inspiration into the Royal Family and its history as well as to the makers of the documentary The Royal House of Windsor. If reading about Kyra and Nicky has sparked your interest, I suggest watching both of those.