by Rachel Hauck
As they rounded the curve in the cliff, the path narrowed. Daffy had to push against a continuous wind. The cold sank through her jumper, causing her to shiver. Even so, her legs burned and trembled from the steep grade. “Gus, I’m not sure—”
“Don’t quit.” He continued around the rock face.
Watch Gus. The wind tangled his dark hair. She stepped on a sharp rock, twisting her foot, but she muffled her cry and forged ahead.
“Almost there.”
Thank God.
In mere moments, the incline leveled off and the climb seemed over all too soon. Ducking under a curved tree trunk growing out of the rocks, the two of them emerged into a half circle cut in the stone, flowing with grass and flowers.
Gus ushered her forward. “The Hand of God.”
“Wow…just wow. It’s beautiful.” Worth every fear and perilous moment of the climb.
In this space, the wind behaved like a gentle breeze, teasing the wildflowers. Four reaching pines bent over four large stones.
“We’re standing in the palm?” she said, turning a slow circle. She wanted to take it all in. Store it in her heart forever.
“If the trees are the fingers, yes.”
To the right was a whitecapped North Sea tossing and turning toward the curve of the horizon. The storm clouds rumbled and rammed together.
But in the midst of it all, there was peace. The Hand of God, carved by wind and rain into the rock wall, was a place of refuge.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Gus spoke in a hushed, reverent tone.
“More than I imagined.” The climb, the struggle, now seemed part of its awe and wonder. “I’ve seen pictures, but not one of them did this justice.”
With a swell of courage, she moved closer to the edge, arms wrapped around her waist, and faced the world.
“An investor came in a few years ago and wanted to construct a suspended walkway to attract tourists. Set up a souvenir shop by the quay, hire tour guides, exploit our little natural wonder. But the hamlet council walked out before he could finish his pitch.”
“I’m glad. The climb should be something a person decides to take on her own.” She met his gaze. “Take the risk.”
“Kind of like a big life metaphor right here in Dalholm.” Gus sat on the edge of God’s palm, dangled his feet over the side, and patted the flat rock next to him.
Using his shoulder as an anchor, Daffy sat, dropping her legs next to his. Two hundred feet above the crashing waves below, there was nothing between them and the end of the world but a breathtaking view of a rolling blue-green sea and the coming clouds.
Daffy inhaled the pure air. “Now that I’m here, I’m not sure I want to leave.”
“It does sort of put your troubles behind you, doesn’t it?”
They sat in silence. Comfortable. Content. And then—
“So, Prince Gus, what is your scary thing? I think you should talk to Coral and—”
With a hesitant touch to her face, he turned her to him and kissed her, exchanging the first awkward touch with one more determined. One more certain.
His hand slipped around her waist as he pulled her to him. She gripped the sleeve of his jacket and kissed him back, sharing her affection, welcoming his passion.
When he at last raised his head, her freed lips fired the first traitorous question that came to mind. “What was that?”
“What? No good?”
“Um…very good.” Daffy touched her cold hand to her warm, tingling lips.
“Kissing you was my scary thing.” He pulled his arm away and brushed her hair from her eyes. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since Florida. When I hit you with the Frisbee.” He lifted her up and moved back from the edge to sit on a small grassy rise. “I don’t want to accidentally push us off if I kiss you again.”
“If?” She laughed. “Blinky said something to me as I left Thomas’s flat.” Dare she confess their conversation? “That I was in love with you. There, that’s my truly scary thing.”
His gaze returned to the channel. “The next part is the scariest. What do we do? I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to be hurt again. Or humiliated.”
“If you think I’d hurt and humiliate you, then why did you kiss me?”
“Because I love you.” His lips found hers again as he worked his hand through her hair. “I—I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I do. Love you.”
Daffy held his coat collar in her fists, his warmth melting the ice in the air around her. “I love you, HRH Prince Gus of the House of Blue. I will not hurt you. I won’t run or hide or confess I love someone else.”
“No, I don’t believe you would.” He kissed her once, then twice, caressing her with his affection. “But to be fair, are you ready for a life with me? Being analyzed and criticized? Do you know the News Leader is on record as saying whenever they need to increase sales, they post a ludicrous story about the Family, especially me, and boom! Back in the black.”
“Forget being analyzed and criticized. Gus, are you inviting me into your world?”
“I’m saying I want to be with you. And if you want to be with me, you need to know everything that comes with that choice. I’m not a simple bloke who works at a financial firm, or argues cases in court, or sacks your groceries.” He brushed his hand along her cheek. “I’ve been debating with myself the whole way here. Should I? Am I ready? Then I look at you and I know, if I don’t wake up and step up, I’ll lose you. Here you are, miraculously free just when I think I might be ready. What are the chances?”
“Feels rather divine.”
“It does but you’re…not blushing.” He traced his finger along her jawline and down her neck. “Is that a bad sign?”
“Keep touching me like you are and I’ll blush like you’ve never seen me blush.” She cradled against his chest and wrapped her fingers around his. “I think I’ve loved you for a long time, Gus. I know being a royal comes with its distinct trials, as well as privileges. But I’m all in, Gus. If you want me.”
His laugh was so rich and warm. “You hear that world? She loves me!”
“Hear that world?” she hollered into the wind. “He loves me.”
Their voices bounced against the rocks, and “loves me” echoed around the Hand of God, through Daff and straight to her bones.
“So now what?” she said when he’d kissed her again. And again. His lips were soft and inviting, but firm, like he knew what he was doing. “Do you think the queen—”
“Wants me happy. Whatever happened eighteen years ago needs to be let go. Buried.”
“Should I talk to her?” And should she tell him the rest of the story? Oh, this was a pickle she never thought she’d face.
“We can talk to her together.”
Okay. Together. That worked.
But for now, she’d live in this glorious moment. Daffy closed her eyes and retreated. He loved her. She’d never imagined this outcome twenty-four hours ago.
Going home for the weekend was, in fact, a marvelous decision.
However…back to the queen. In truth, Daffy wasn’t a hundred percent sure what she’d overheard that day. And memories were tricky, changing with time. Words and images faded, got intertwined, moved from one year to the next, even one person to another. Hearing something outside the queen’s bedroom door while she cried was not a reliable tale.
If she told Gus her story, she’d raise questions she couldn’t answer. And she’d implicate the queen in something that was more than likely not true.
Besides, it wasn’t her secret to tell. Nevertheless, in this moment, sitting in the Hand of God, the world at their feet and the very real possibility of a future together ahead of them, keeping the secret felt like betrayal.
Okay, self, shut up. If the relationship moved forward to marriage, she’d talk to Mum. Get her advice.
“We should go. You’re shivering.” Gus shrugged out of his coat and held it open for her. “I was wondering if you’d be free for this fancy weddi
ng ball I’m hosting?”
“I might be. Do you have a date for me in mind?”
He scooped her in his arms and kissed her, turning in a slow sway as the wind played a zither melody through the rocks and trees. The distant, booming thunder crashed in time with her heart and she would never be the same. She’d encountered true love in God’s hand.
Gus breathed in and stepped back. “I’ll make a fool of myself kissing you.” He planted another one on her lips, laughing, and already, his touch was a familiar taste. “Daffodil Caron, will you go to the royal ball with me?”
“My, my, Prince Gus.” She batted her eyes and fanned her face. “This is so out of the blue, but of course I’ll go with you.”
He swung her around with a shout. “It feels so good to be free.”
Setting her down, he bent for another bold kiss. He wasn’t kidding about making a fool of himself. But who was she to stop him?
“Gus, seriously, do you want to go public? Are you ready? We just now figured out how we feel.”
“I’m ready. But if you’re not, we can—”
“If you help me, I’ll be ready.”
“Always.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll never let you go. But, darling, did you see the number of phones aimed at us down below? Trust me, we are already public.” Another kiss. This one more graceful and full lipped, depositing more than he took.
“You’re a good kisser,” she whispered.
“So are you. Looking forward to a lifetime of these.” They stood on the edge of the path, ready to go down. “We should go slow though. Get to know each other as a couple.”
“I agree. But know this, Gus Blue. I’m not going anywhere.” It was her turn to draw him close. Seal her pledge with a kiss.
The storm echoed over the channel and released the first drops of rain. With a yelp, they hurried to the path. Climbing down, Daffy kept her gaze on Gus. Her foot never slipped. As they crossed the footbridge, the storm unleashed its fury.
“Let’s head to Hadsby,” Gus called over his shoulder.
Running through the deluge, hand in hand toward Centre Street, they passed the Belly of the Beast and headed up the incline to the castle. But as they approached, Gus slowed his pace. A motor sat inside the gates and the royal standard flew above Hadsby’s turret.
“The queen,” she said. “The chair.”
As the words left her mouth, the queen’s protection officer stepped through the gates. Gus dropped Daffy’s hand. “Your Royal Highness, we were just about to search for you.”
“We’d gone for a walk.” Rainwater dripped from the edge of his hair and beard. Reaching back, he took Daffy’s hand again. “We need to get inside.”
The sturdy man nodded, first at the prince then Daffy. She tried to smile as she wiped rainwater from her eyes.
“Her Majesty would like to speak to you,” he said. “Now.”
“Wedding ball is two weeks away. Royal reporter Leslie Ann Parker shares her thoughts on which designer Lady Holland chose for the big night. Stay tuned.”
–Stone Brubaker on the Morning Show.
“Madeline and Hyacith Live! Another royal wedding ball is upon us but will we actually see a wedding? Stay tuned for thoughts from royal experts around the world. Also, was Prince Gus the first prince jilted at the altar? We’re live in five.”
–Madeline and Hyacinth Live!
OMG! I just saw Prince Gus at the port in Dalholm. Who’s he with?
–@Stefwithanf on Instagram
Prince Gus was at the quay today with this woman. Anyone know her? Are they a thing?
–Facebook post from Andrea Fuller
Now Trending on Twitter: Prince Gus
Does Prince Gus have a new love? My sources identify her as Daffodil Caron, a member of the Royal Trust.
–@RoyalWatcherOne
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gus
Stern handed him a towel, accompanied by a look that matched his name, as Gus entered his apartment. Mum stood in the lounge, hands at her side, her head tipped with curiosity.
“This is a surprise.” He ran the towel across his face and through his hair, gathering his thoughts. “Did you say you were coming up early?”
“Your father wanted a weekend away before all the fun begins. I was able to clear my diary for a few days, so I joined him. The child case has worn me to bits. The images are forever embedded in my brain. I thought between Hadsby, Dalholm, and seeing my son, I’d gain a fresh perspective.” Mum gave him the once-over. “You’re soaked.”
“I climbed up to the Hand of God.” Don’t be a shy man, out with it. “Daffy and I climbed. Got caught in the rain.” The residue of their kisses still buzzed through him. From the moment his lips touched hers, he fell into a deep pit of love. Best part? He felt certain she loved him as much.
“Daffy? Caron?” Mum made a face. “That seems rather odd. Have you spent a lot of time with her?”
“Why would it seem odd, Mum? We’re childhood friends. We’re living in the same castle.”
“A rather large castle. One could go days without seeing someone from the guest wing. Isn’t she engaged?”
“As a matter of fact, they broke it off. And I’ve been dining in the servants’ hall. Didn’t fancy eating alone.” He handed the damp towel back to Stern. “Where’s Dad?”
“Raiding the downstairs kitchen, where else? He loves Chef Charles’s cooking. He’d bring him to Perrigwynn if he had a prayer the man would move. Besides, I want to see the wedding gowns on display and check out the King Titus.”
“The gowns are in the Grand Gallery. I saw them this morning. Daffy and Lucy have done a splendid job.” He held himself in check, trying to sound objective about his newfound love while his heart skipped and tap-danced to an inner love song.
“Shall we go see them together?”
“Give me a moment to change out of these wet togs.” When he escaped to his room, Gus sent Daffy a quick text.
Going to see the gowns with the queen. Meet you there in five.
He thought Daffy might already be in the Grand Gallery when they arrived, but for the dresses, it was empty. “I’ll get Daffy. She’s in Princess Charlotte.”
The moment she opened her door, he wanted to push inside, take her in his arms, and tumble into the nearest chair, kissing her, as his heart and body melted with desire. This beautiful woman loved him? Let Coral Winthrop tell every ugly truth about why she left. He’d discovered the wonder of Daffodil.
“Did you get my text? The queen wants us to join her in the Grand Gallery,” he said as if nothing at all boiled beneath the surface.
“No, I didn’t. Why does she… Is something wrong?” Daffy looked down at her trackie bottoms and sock feet. “I can’t go out there now.”
“You look beautiful.” No, she was beautiful, her bare face sporting nothing but the mark of his kisses and the cold wind. She was sexy without trying. “Come on.”
“I can’t. The Royal Trust must always appear before Her Majesty in uniform. Anything else is a breach of protocol. My boss could reprimand me. Even sack me, if she had a mind to.”
“Your mum is your boss, and your prince—me—is telling you to come and see the queen. Now, who do you mind?” He leaned down so his lips almost touched hers. “Me or your boss?”
“Gus?” Mum stood at the head of the guest corridor. “Where is Daffy?”
“She’s just here.”
“Tell her to come.”
“I’m not dressed, Your Majesty.”
“You mean to tell me you’re standing in front of my son naked?” The queen’s voice spiked high.
“Good grief, Mum. She’s in trackies.”
“We’ll wave protocol for now.” Mum motioned for them to follow her to the Grand Gallery.
With Daffy beside him, he gained a deeper sense of purpose. He belonged to someone. The right someone. He wasn’t alone.
Daffy raised the lights by the switch on the wall and spotlighted the gowns as th
e rain drummed a continuous beat against the skylights.
“Daffy, please walk me through the display.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Daffy curtsied, then stood just off Mum’s left shoulder. “This is your wedding gown. Designed by—”
“I’m really more curious about the blue gown at the end.” Mum moved ahead. “Can we start there?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you explain this?” Mum flicked her hand toward the dress, then waited, arms folded. “Is this some sort of joke?”
“No, ma’am. This is the dress for the Unknown Bride. Lucy and I—”
“Where did you get it?”
“A vintage shop. In the Old Hamlet.”
“Surely you recognized it.”
“I did, ma’am, yes. In fact, finding it was very surreal. There was this woman, Adelaide, who gave me a large box with the dress inside. She acted as if I was expected. I was very surprised. How did it get there?”
“I’ve no idea but take this down.” Ice weighted Mum’s words. “Now. And throw it away.”
“Throw it away?” Daffy said.
“Mum, what’s going on?” Gus stepped between his mother and the woman he loved. “What’s wrong with this dress?”
“A-Adelaide had it, Your Majesty.” Daffy’s voice trembled as she stumbled with a defense. “She said Emmanuel told her to give it to me.”
“Emmanuel? Well…” For a moment, the queen seemed to soften. But only a moment. “I said take it down.” Then her expression lost all light. “Burn it.”
“Wait—burn it?” Gus said. “Mum, isn’t this the dress you wore to your twenty-first birthday? You’re typically very sentimental about—”
“I know when I wore it.” She clenched her hands into fists, then eased her fingers open. “Just please, take it down. Find another dress for the Unknown Bride.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Daffy looked at Gus. For what? Help? Guidance? He was as flummoxed as she.
