To Love a Prince

by Rachel Hauck

  Her trip to Tennessee was just for show. Trent O’Shay refused to be on camera, and she never contacted Scottie, who was out of the country. Standing in the middle of Hearts Bend’s main street, Leslie Ann recited unnamed sources, each who suspected, wondered, or once heard Scottie was the daughter of a princess, but no one knew for sure.

  She’d produced Scottie’s birth certificate, which proved nothing other than her mother’s name, Belinda O’Shay. LA claimed the woman never existed. If she did, she found no evidence.

  Nevertheless, social media blew up. The hashtag #queenssecretbaby nearly broke social media.

  Now the hunt was on to get a face-to-face with Trent and to find Scottie. Leslie Ann created a firestorm.

  “For what it’s worth, Daffy,”—Mum clicked off the telly as the family sat in silence—“you’re right not to go to the ball. You’ll only keep the story alive and the attention off Prince John and Lady Holland. They deserve their day. I admire your wisdom and courage. The effects of what Leslie Ann revealed are just beginning.”

  “Do you think it has succession ramifications, Morwena?” Dad began collecting the used plates and empty pizza box.

  “I doubt it, but I suppose someone could make a case for it.”

  Ella arched her brow. “Like an American girl named Scottie?”

  Yes, the firestorm had just started.

  But for Daffy, Monday was the beginning of Daffy 3.0. Maybe all was not lost with Gus, but they had a steep pathway to climb.

  She’d tossed and turned most of the night, wondering if she’d given up too soon. If she should’ve said yes to Gus. Was she forgetting how she’d embraced courage during their trek to the Hand of God and not giving in to fear?

  Then Mum’s encouragement that she was being wise, even courageous, with the choices she was making now, spoke through. Let the Family deal with the fallout.

  Twice she almost texted Gus. At one in the morning, then three. But then she played out the scenario of going up to Hadsby, facing the Family, the guests, the press—and she put aside her phone.

  By mid-morning she’d reached out to the companies who had her résumé and began creating new online profiles.

  A knock sounded on her door, followed by the chime of the bell.

  “Daffy.” A soft call bled through the door. “It’s Catherine.”

  Daffy jumped up from her desk in the corner by the windows. Catherine? The queen? She reached for a hair tie and corralled her wild mane on the way to the door. When she opened it, the Queen of Lauchtenland stood in the hall with a box in her hand.

  “Your Majesty.” Her sock slipped across the floor when she curtsied.

  “May I come in?”

  “Yes, please.” Daffy stood aside, then peeked in the hall to see a protection officer surveying the perimeter. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “That would be lovely.” She set the box down on the coffee table, along with her handbag. Dressed in jeans, which she never wore in public, and a jumper, the queen appeared serene. At peace. The wide, colorful headband wrapping up her dark tresses represented the people she ruled and served.

  “Your place is lovely.” She crossed to the windows, her posture erect, but not imposing. “The night view must be spectacular.”

  “It’s why I bought the place. I apologize for the paint fumes, but we freshened up my room yesterday.”

  “We?”

  “Mum, Dad, Ella.” Daffy’s hands shook as she set out the remaining scones. Was that a spot on the plate? She retrieved a new one and set the dirty one in the sink.

  “I always loved your family.” The queen joined her at the island. “We watched your friend’s piece last night.”

  “She’s not my friend.” Daffy set out two cups, the loose tea, cream, sweeteners. “And I am sorry. So, so sorry. I wish I could rewind the past few weeks but—”

  “No, I’m the one who is sorry. Deeply sorry.” She paused for a moment, looking away briefly then back again. “Daffy, I treated you cruelly. I blamed you for things you had nothing to do with. I banned you from the upstairs out of fear and shame, worried your pure heart would say what my prideful one could not. That I had a child out of wedlock. That I gave her away to the man I loved, her father, and never looked back. That I put my royal duty above her.”

  The queen pressed her fingertips to her trembling lips, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “I’m not sure any of us would’ve chosen differently, ma’am. You were in a precarious position.”

  The queen nodded. “Perhaps, but I should’ve been honest. I’ve learned the hard way that the truth sets us free…but there is often pain in the process. I could have avoided so much pain…for so many of us…if only I’d been honest.”

  “Have you talked to her?” Daffy stood on one side of the island, the queen on the other.

  “Not yet. I wanted to speak to you first. I’m not sure Scottie even knows. Trent’s not called so there’s a bit left to untangle.”

  “Is she in line to the throne?” Daffy reached for the steaming kettle and filled their cups.

  “Patent letters dictate the firstborn of the married crown, prince or princess. We’re not entirely modern. There is value in legal marriage.”

  “So what now?”

  “I’m not sure. My secretary tells me every major news outlet in the world wants information. The Chamber Office can barely manage the requests for interviews and statements, everyone trying to discover the whole truth. I pray sweet, little Hearts Bend is not being overrun. Ms. Parker, for all her bold reveal, left a lot of unanswered questions.”

  “What about you, Your Majesty? Your family? What about the Family?” One private, one public.

  The queen sat where Gus did yesterday, fixed her tea with cream, and selected a scone. “The boys are shocked. Still struggling to take it all in. Edric feels more betrayed than he’s prepared to admit, but I’ll give him time. I understand. He believed we had a completely open and honest relationship.”

  “Will you meet her?”

  “I’m not sure. She’s a grown woman in her thirties with a very American life. The House of Blue is a life all its own. I wouldn’t expect her to change for us, but I’d like her to know the truth. She grew up thinking her mum died. I’d like her to know I loved her.”

  “Trent O’Shay never married?” Daffy stirred cream into her tea but never drank. The conversation required her attention.

  “No. Which, I must admit, surprised me. I anticipated a call from him one day to say he’d found someone and she was ready to adopt Scottie. He was charming and handsome. Quite funny. Certainly swept me off my feet, and then some.” She blew softly over the surface of her tea. “Can you forgive me, Daffy? For everything. Banning you. Shutting you out. Sacking you. I was really angry at myself all those times. Not you. If you’d like, please rejoin the Royal Trust.”

  The moment was so simple. So peaceful. So healing. No more needed to be said.

  “Your Majesty, I understand. All is forgiven. As for my job, thank you, but I’m Daffy 3.0 now.” At the queen’s quizzical look, she explained. “Reinventing myself. Going for a different angle on curating. I only joined the Trust because Mum said she needed me. Maybe in a small way, I’d hoped to see you now and then. And Gus.”

  “I suppose my unreasonable response in sacking you has a silver lining.” The queen patted Daffy’s arm and smiled. “We’re friends again?”

  “Yes, ma’am, please.” Their embrace was mutual and heartfelt. There were tears by the time they let one another go.

  “I brought you something.” The queen retrieved the box—large, white, beautiful—and set it on the island. “I want you to have this.”

  Daffy dusted crumbs from her fingers and raised the lid. The blue dress rested inside, wrapped in tissues. The one from Shop Vintage. The one from Adelaide and Emmanuel.

  The one the queen wanted destroyed.

  “I don’t understand. You said—”

  “A lot of stupid things
.” The queen held her teacup against her palm. “I wore this to my twenty-first birthday celebration.”

  “I saw a photo. You were so beautiful.”

  “Trent and I conceived Scottie that night. The gown I loved quickly became a symbol of everything I had to leave behind. I’d convinced myself Trent and I could overcome all the obstacles in our way, but the reality of a baby ended my pie-in-the-sky notions. There was no time to play house, have secret rendezvous in New York between semesters. No time to pretend I wasn’t the future queen of Lauchtenland and he wasn’t heir to his family’s corporation. I stayed hidden in Tennessee until Scottie was born then Trent took her home and I headed to Yale. His family made up some story that Scottie was from a fling and the woman didn’t want to raise her.” The queen’s voice softened, her gaze clouding. “Our fathers had it all worked out, you see. Trent’s father wasn’t willing to lose his heir, nor was mine. The plan was for Scottie to be adopted by a good family, but Trent’s mother stepped in and put an end to it. Trent would raise his daughter. She was a force to be reckoned with. Made my father cower.”

  “Did you ever see her? Scottie?”

  “Not after I went to Yale and gave myself to my studies, my mission, my destiny. I convinced myself it was right for everyone—me, Trent, my daughter, the Family—to let her go. In the ’80s, unwed mothers weren’t as accepted as they are now. In Lauchtenland, a royal baby out of wedlock was unheard of. Not that it didn’t happen in our long history. It was just swept under the rug. Same as mine.”

  “You were strong.” Daffy clasped the queen’s hand. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up for it.”

  “I wonder…If I were truly strong, I’d have stood up to my father. I’d have kept Scottie. People would’ve been shocked but gotten over it.” The queen offered Daffy a brief smile and motioned to the dress. “Anyway, I packed this away thinking I’d get rid of it one day. But it took me a long time to get over Trent. By the time I left Yale and met Edric, I was ready for the next chapter.”

  “So why was the dress out in your dressing room that day?”

  “Trent had contacted me for the first time in years. Tried to send me a photo of Scottie, informing me of her upcoming sixteenth birthday party. Oh, it made me so upset. I spent so many years trying to forget, to hide. Trying not to let Edric discover my secret. You need to know, Daffy, Edric is the love of my life. I love my sons with all my heart. But there was a curiosity about Scottie. Because technically I remained her mother. Had she been adopted, I’d have had an easier time of it, but she wasn’t. When Trent sent a picture and I was so overcome, I retreated to my room to cry, and there you were.”

  “Trent and Scottie…” Daffy sought the correct words. “…they were like an alternate universe.”

  “Exactly. Thank you. I’ve been searching for an analogy.” The more the queen shared, the more her countenance softened. “Along with the photo Trent asked if he could tell her the truth. I refused. He went on to say she was having a ball for her birthday party. Told me she was fascinated with royals, especially Princess Diana.”

  Daffy made a face. “That had to sting.”

  “A little, I’ll admit.” Queen Catherine laughed. “But I wonder if she’d not started to figure things out. Come across something about Trent and me. If we’d had the internet in the ’80s, she would have. Of if she happened across an old collection of People magazines. Nevertheless, Trent and I had managed to keep our relationship mostly out of the public eye. Together we agreed to keep Scottie in the dark. Her grandmother didn’t want her to leave Tennessee, so she was a bulwark for our plan.”

  “You retrieved the dress to send to Scottie? For her ball?” Daffy glanced at the dress box. So why did she have it?

  “I had ideas that Trent could say he bought it for her. Or that it was from an old aunt or something. The gown is so magical and timeless, I thought she’d appreciate it. And if she wore it, I’d be there with her. Then I realized what I was risking, even in the smallest way, and decided against my plan. I tossed the dress into the dressing room.”

  “Where I found it.”

  “When I saw you, for a moment, I thought you were Scottie. My heart and mind were so wrapped up in her.”

  “So you threw me out?”

  The queen laughed. “I suppose I did, yes.”

  “I couldn’t resist. The dress was—is—stunning. I felt like a princess.” Daffy’s confession came easy in the light of new things. “Every little girl dreams of being one. Especially me, being so familiar with the Family, the palace.”

  The queen shook her head and glanced away. “I dreamed of being an ordinary girl.”

  “Well, there you have it. The grass was always greener on the other side.”

  “I did love you, Daffy. I’m sorry for the way I treated you. Especially after you overheard my call. But I had to protect the secret.” The queen squeezed Daffy’s hand again. “While I’d have never chosen Leslie Ann Parker’s way of telling my story, it needed to be told. At least to my husband and sons.”

  “So why did you bring me the gown?”

  “I want you to have it. To wear to the wedding ball.” The queen tipped up her cup to finish the last drops. “My poor son has been through enough heartache. He loves you, very much, and I will not stand in his way.” She set her cup in the sink and with glistening eyes added, “I think you’re perfect for him, Daffy.”

  “But I betrayed you. And—”

  “You certainly did not. Your friend betrayed all of us. More than once. No, Daffy, you and I must stand together for the truth. I am incredibly grateful—you cannot know how much—that you kept my secret all these years. Something I should’ve never allowed to rest on your shoulders. I so regretful of my actions against you. So please, put me and my son out of our misery. Come to the ball.”

  “Oh, Your Majesty, thank you.” In an instant, she was ten again and free to embrace the queen who was more like a dear aunt than her sovereign. “I do love him so very much. I think I always have.” Daffy tore off a paper towel for the queen to dry her eyes. Then one for herself. “But are you sure I won’t be part of the media circus? I don’t want to steal Holland and Prince John’s moment.”

  “Oh come now, Daffy, we girls are made of sterner stuff. Besides, circuses are fun.”

  “Not the kind we’re about to face.” The queen’s sentiments touched her and upon second thought, a trial by fire might heal their wounds.

  “Who cares? I’m pretty sure Holland’s up for it. Let’s show the men what strong women they married. Or will marry.” The queen’s wink was downright salty.

  The truth really did set one free. Daffy turned to the box and lifted out the dress. “Do you think it will fit?”

  “Since Emmanuel gave it to you, I’m almost certain it will.”

  “Yes, about that…” Daffy held the gown in front of her. “How did this end up at Shop Vintage?”

  “Ah, well there’s that part of the story. I also found the dress at the shop. Only it wasn’t called Shop Vintage in ’85. But it was a rather unique boutique. Magical, the locals said. I was to have a designer gown for my birthday, but this beauty…” The queen motioned to the chiffon skirt. “It captured my heart. Just like Trent. That’s when I met Adelaide. Flash forward to our incident after which I shipped the dress back to the shop.”

  “So, Adelaide sold you the dress too?”

  “Gave. Just like you.”

  Daffy dropped down in her chair, the skirt cascading over her lap. “This is so confusing. If it was given to me for the Unknown Bride, why was it given to you? Who and what is Adelaide? How does Emmanuel figure into the story?”

  “Don’t you know, Daffy? Emmanuel, God with us?”

  “And Adelaide?”

  “Angels also walk among us.”

  God? Angels? “So this is a divine setup? But why me? Why you?”

  “Because the real tradition of the Unknown Bride was for a future House of Blue princess.” The queen touched Daffy’s
shoulder and peered into her eyes. “You are that bride. I believe it. But you don’t need a title or a crown to be a princess. You only have to believe. A princess is about honor. Respect. It’s about trust, loyalty, and duty. It’s about living by your values, even when they cost you. About putting others first. I know from your mum that you are all of these things, love. It just worked out a prince fell in love with you. I knew the day I saw you in the gown eighteen years ago you’d marry my son. Then you heard the secret and well…we’ve gone over it enough. But, Daffy, you don’t need me or Gus to make you a princess. You are loved by God and that alone makes you royalty. As for me, the dress was to remind me of who I was and am. Even I needed to know my calling was sure.”

  “I feel rather overwhelmed.” Daffy laugh-cried. “And I’m going to a royal wedding ball.”

  “Oh, I’m so delighted. Mission accomplished.” After a quick embrace the queen sat with a mischievous glint in her eye. “But first, we need to have a bit of fun. Just a wee bit. Payback for Gus for breaking the Titus.”

  “Your Majesty, how scheming of you.” Daffy leaned in. “What do you have in mind?”

  Chapter Thirty

  Gus

  What a miserable week. The media descended on Dalholm like a nasty blizzard, lining Centre Street with photographers, videographers, and wired reporters.

  They roamed the shops and every side street. They booked the hotels in New Hamlet and filled the pubs.

  They hounded arriving guests or anyone who dared step onto the grounds for air or a visit to Old Hamlet, shouting things like, “What can you tell us about the queen’s secret love child?” Or “What does the king consort think? The princes?”

  Some focused on the event at hand. “Have you seen Lady Holland’s wedding dress? Can you confirm the designer was Bray-Lindsay?”

  Others shouted toward the heavy castle walls for Prince Gus to confirm he had a new love.

  Social media and the news were full of video clips from Gus’s conversation with Daffy on the quay, of ball guests like the band members of Meant 2 Be, singer-songwriter Edward Tucker, and Prince Stephen and Princess Corina of Brighton Kingdom arriving at the castle.