by Aven Ellis
But as soon as I think it, the reality of Friday night weighs heavy on my heart. Roman won’t be embraced by a portion of my family. Worse, while my parents will accept him, we’ll never have this type of family experience with them. How can Roman go from this to that without wondering why he’s putting up with everything?
“Liz?”
I blink. Roman is waiting for me in the doorway, his face studying me now with concern. “Yes, coming,” I say, moving over to him.
As soon as we’re in the kitchen, he entwines his fingers through mine. “You’re worried about something.”
I don’t even try to deny it, as Roman would know the truth in a second. “I look at your family and compare them to mine. That table, that living room, is filled with people who genuinely enjoy and love each other. My immediate family doesn’t act like this. Throw in my extended family, and I’m mortified at what you will think, Roman. The lies. The secrets. The judgement. Why would you want to take that on for the rest of your life?”
I gasp after the words are out. “Um, I’m not saying you will marry me, or that you have to think about that right this second. Sorry, I didn’t think before I spoke.”
“Exactly,” Roman says simply.
“What?”
“You spoke from your heart,” he explains, drawing my hand up to his lips and pressing them against my knuckles. “You aren’t asking if we’ve known each other long enough, or making sure to tick off all of Princess Elizabeth’s boxes first. You spoke as Lizzie, the woman who has my heart.”
He takes one hand and slides it around my waist, drawing me closer. “I do think of that future. It doesn’t scare me. Your family doesn’t scare me, and Her Majesty doesn’t scare me. I promise you, there is nothing they can do on Friday night to change that.”
Roman kisses me as if to punctuate the point, but worry still consumes me.
My heart believes him.
My head tells me he has no idea what he’s getting into.
I tuck my head against his chest, listening once again to his heart.
And praying it will remain true to me after Friday night at Buckingham Palace.
Chapter 27
Baubles and Garland
Roman slows as we make the last turn towards Buckingham Palace. He’s behind the wheel of my Range Rover, and we are headed to the point of no return. Crowds are lining the streets. Paparazzi have their cameras out, filming each car slowly heading into the open gates of BP.
And into my landmine-filled world behind palace doors.
My stomach tightens as we move closer and closer to the palace. I glance at Roman, whose brow is furrowed as he drives.
“Look at all these people,” he says quietly.
Flashbulbs start going off as we are recognised in the car. It seems like hundreds of them, and the light blinds us as we head towards the gates. Roman puts his hand over his eyes, trying to shield them from the continuous flashes of brightness.
People are cheering for us, but Roman keeps his eyes straight ahead. I do, too. We follow slowly behind another car, and the flashes of light don’t stop until we have passed behind the gate and through the secure walls of the palace. Once we are in the car park, Roman remains frozen at the steering wheel. People in cocktail gowns and tuxedoes are entering the palace, ready to celebrate Christmas with Arthur and Antonia with a five-course dinner in the State Dining Room.
“Do I look ridiculous?” he blurts out.
My heart crashes into my stomach. I see the expression on his face. In his eyes. It’s written all over him.
I know, in this moment, Roman understands I’m not just Liz.
I’m Princess Elizabeth of York.
“You,” I say, putting my hand on his freshly-shaven face, “are insanely hot in this tuxedo.”
“One I had to rent.”
I furrow my brow. “So?”
“I’m sure Antonia will love this; the gardener who had to rent a tuxedo.”
I see the man I love slipping away from me in this car park. My confident man, the one who hasn’t cared what the press have said since we went public, is realising the full impact of my world now that he is behind the gates of BP. Kensington Palace is my world. Where Liz, the woman he loves, lives by her rules.
But now he’s seeing the other side of my life, and it has a whole new meaning to him now that he’s here. This is a part of me. Rules and hierarchy and a whole new world beyond the one he’s experienced with me so far.
It’s new to him and scary, but he must accept it if he is going to be with me.
“Roman,” I say turning his face towards mine, desperate to reassure him. “I love you. You are dashing in your tuxedo, and I’m proud to be with you. I’ll happily shout from the top of the Grand Staircase so everyone can hear it.”
He exhales. “Right.”
“I know this is weird,” I continue, hoping I can ease his nerves somehow. “This is your first time meeting my family.”
Roman shoots me a wry look. “Yeah, your parents, who happen to be a prince and a duchess. And oh, the king and queen.”
“Aunt Antonia and Uncle Arthur,” I say defiantly.
“Who happen to be the king and queen.”
“You know what I mean.”
He exhales.
“Roman. Please don’t worry. The people who love me don’t expect you to be anything other than who you are. An incredible, insightful, grounded man.”
“I know you’re right, but sitting here, seeing these people, being on the other side of the fence of Buckingham Palace… I know there will be people tonight who hate me for being here. I… I don’t want to embarrass you, Lizzie.”
My heart further wrenches in my chest. “Roman, take that thought out of your head. That’s not even possible. You be the man I love, and I will proudly be by your side.”
He gazes into my eyes but doesn’t say anything.
“I will,” I reiterate. “And, yes, tonight will be surreal and weird, but then it will be done. Like Cinderella, we’ll go down those red-carpeted steps and back to the coach, and I’ll turn right into Liz again.”
This gets the corners of his mouth to turn up, which gives me such relief that I almost audibly exhale.
Roman nods. “Okay.”
We get out of the car and follow the other guests to the entrance. As we walk across the courtyard, I take his hand in mine, finding it clammy. My relief is short-lived. I know what this world is and how brutal it can be. Roman is getting stressed just being on the edge of it.
How can I expect him to live it?
Guilt burns within me the second I think it. How can I expect him to be anything but nervous? He’s meeting my entire family tonight, while having to wear a tuxedo and make small talk with people he’s never met, who happen to have intimidating titles like Your Royal Highness.
We reach the entrance and step inside. Roman helps me with my coat, which is whisked away by household staff. Guests are strolling through the Grand Hall, with its deep red carpeted floor, marble fixtures, and guild on the walls and ceiling.
But Roman isn’t looking at any of that.
His eyes are fixated on me.
“You did it when you opened the door, but you’re doing it again. You take my breath away in that dress,” he says, his voice low.
His compliment makes me feel radiant. I’m wearing a floor-length, platinum-coloured sequined gown with cap sleeves and a cowl back that drapes down, exposing just enough skin to be alluring.
“Thank you.”
Roman leans over and whispers in my ear. “Seeing your back is sexy. It’s taking all my willpower not to touch it.”
Heat swells within me as I inhale the sandalwood on his skin. “Later, it’s all yours.”
“Promise?”
“Oh, I do.”
Now I get a smile.
“So, welcome to the Grand Hall,” I say as we walk. “I hope you like red and gold, because you will see a lot of that tonight.”
“I think
I prefer silver,” he says, arching an eyebrow. I smile, and he shifts his gaze straight ahead. As he does, I see his expression change from teasing to awe.
“Those stairs,” he whispers. “The staircase is even more impressive than on TV. And more golden.”
I nod as we walk towards the sweeping Grand Staircase. “It’s quite dramatic, isn’t it?”
“Slightly,” he teases.
We reach the landing and step onto the Grand Staircase itself. The golden scrolled banisters are wrapped in greenery and baubles for Christmas.
“Look at that,” Roman whispers, gazing up at the domed glass ceiling.
“You should see it in the daytime. The light comes through, and it’s so beautiful.”
He nods, his attention shifting to the walls as we continue our climb upwards. “And the paintings?”
“Queen Victoria’s family.”
His eyes are wide as he shifts his attention back to me. “Your family.”
“Yes,” I nod. Then I lower my voice. “Xander likes to get under Antonia’s skin by telling her he’ll replace all of them with modern art when he’s king.”
That gets a slight smile out of Roman. “Can you imagine?”
“No, she would die,” I whisper.
Once we reach the top, we step through the Guard Chamber and then enter the Green Drawing Room, which is filled with family and close friends of my aunt and uncle. A string quartet plays Christmas music in one part of the magnificent room as people laugh and drink cocktails and champagne underneath a brilliant chandelier suspended from the modelled ceiling. It’s a sea of tuxedos and gowns, with servers wandering through the crowd, offering guests canapés off silver platters.
I know the first thing I need to do. I need to get Roman with the squad to relax him and make him feel welcome. I scan past the vipers that are in Her Majesty’s inner circle, past Arthur’s friends, and then I see Helene. Perfect! She’s the perfect person to—
“Liz, I’m so glad you’re here,” I hear a voice from behind me say.
I freeze. I know that voice.
I slowly turn around to find myself face-to-face with India. I use every princess trick I have in the book to keep my face neutral instead of showing surprise. “India, hello. It’s a pleasure to see you. This,” I say, turning towards Roman, “is Roman Lawler. Roman, this is India Rothschild.”
She gives him a tight-lipped smile. “Pleasure.”
I know Roman knows who she is from my stories, but his face doesn’t show it.
“Likewise,” he says, nodding at her.
“Liz. I need to speak to you,” India says urgently. “Privately. It’s of the upmost importance.”
No. No. I don’t want to talk to India.
“We’ve only just arrived,” I say. “I need to introduce Roman to my family.”
“It will only be a moment,” she presses. “Please, Liz. I’m sure Roman will understand.”
Dammit. Now she’s put Roman in an impossible position to say no. I look at him.
“Go ahead,” he says, with a flick of his head. “I’ll get a drink.”
“I will be right back,” I assure him.
“I’ll be fine,” he says.
I glance around the room. I see some of Antonia’s allies eyeing us up, their heads bent in not-so-discreet whispers. “I won’t be long,” I tell him firmly.
“Thank you,” India says. Then she escorts me through the crowd and into the Picture Gallery. As soon as we’re there, she blurts out what is on her mind. “You have to help me get Xander back, Liz. You hold sway with him. Xander listens to you. You can help me.”
“No. I can’t do that, India. I’m sorry that you’re hurting, but this is Xander’s decision to make, not mine. Now I need to get back to the party.”
I make a move to go, but India calls out after me. “What if you were in my shoes?” she asks.
I turn around. “What?”
“What if your handyman suddenly dropped you, and you knew I’d have sway with him? Wouldn’t you want me to help you?” Her green eyes flicker at me. The cling film holding her perfect image has been peeled off, and now I’m about to see a whole new side to India Rothschild.
“Roman is a gardener, not a handyman, and I wouldn’t want him to be swayed. I’d want him to choose me.”
Her mouth draws into an angry line, and she practically spits out her words at me. “Well, you probably don’t have to worry about him. He moved up from the potting shed to the palace—quite an accomplishment. But for you? To go dig in the dirt? You are embarrassing your family. In front of the world.”
“You,” I say calmly, “are the embarrassment. You’re shallow and vapid, and you wouldn’t know love if it showed up and slapped that tight smile off your face. Xander dodged a bullet with you. My cousin, my family, and potentially the entire Commonwealth dodged a bullet. All of us deserve better than you.”
“The queen was right about you,” India says coolly. “You are a self-destructive twit with a taste for rubbish. You’ll drag everyone down with you so you can have the gardener plough your field.”
Rage consumes me. “I won’t engage you. Say what you want about me, I don’t care.” I turn around and angrily stride towards the doorway, shaking as I do.
India hurtles one last insult at me as I leave her behind. “Even though you repulse me,” she says, “I hope you never feel as heartbroken as I do right now. Because I wouldn’t wish this feeling on anyone. Even you.”
Her words send a sharp chill through me, but I keep walking, determined to find Roman in the Green Drawing Room. I quickly re-enter, searching for him. Within minutes I spot him, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I see him next to the marble fireplace talking to Christian, Clementine, and Bella, who is back from Scotland for Christmas.
Thank God, I think. He’s protected with my family.
I’m stopped a few times before I can reach them, by friends of my parents and relatives, painfully making small talk before I can be by Roman’s side. As I approach, he spots me, and his eyes light up. “Hello, everyone,” I say. I move in and give Bella a hug, breathing in her familiar perfume as I do.
“It’s been too long!” I cry into her neck as I hug her. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me, too,” Bella says, stepping back from me.
I study her. She has her golden locks piled up on her head, and she’s dressed in a crimson red dress with a V-neck and ruffles falling down the front of the gown. It’s a soft look that accents the curvy body she was blessed with.
“You’ve met Roman?” I say, smiling at her.
“Yes,” she says, smiling at him.
“And you’ve met James?” I ask him.
“Not yet,” he says.
I glance around the room. I see James and Victoria, who are engaged with Helene, but no Xander. “Where’s Xander?” I say.
“Hiding from the country you paid a visit to,” Christian says dryly before taking a sip of his gin and tonic. “Mum apparently forgot to mention she was on the guest list.”
“Lovely,” I say.
“What happened?” Clementine asks, her eyes wide.
I exhale. “I will never talk to her again, I’ll tell you that much.”
I feel Roman’s gaze on me. If he knew what she said… no, he can’t ever know that. What India said will never be spoken of to Roman.
“I could do with a drink,” I say.
“I’ll get you one,” Roman says. “Wine?”
I nod. He walks towards the bar, and when he’s out of earshot, I speak. “India went after Roman. He can’t ever know what she said; it would upset him.”
“For what? Not having a title?” Clementine says. “For being a commoner, like me?”
I glance at Christian, whose piercing blue eyes flicker angrily in response to the idea of India attacking someone for not being an aristocrat.
“Roman is nervous enough. He doesn’t need the rubbish opinion of people who don’t matter,” I tell them quickly.
“Please don’t say anything.”
I’m met with quick nods all around.
“I need to introduce him to Mum and Dad,” I say, searching the crowd for them.
“It’s the weirdest thing. Dad was running late and sent me and Mum on ahead,” Bella says, wrinkling her delicate nose. “But he hasn’t arrived yet. Mum is angry and has been on her phone the whole time she’s been here. I asked her if something was wrong, but she said it was a little spat, nothing to worry about.”
My chest hurts. A “little spat” in Mum’s words means they had an argument that could be heard in an entire wing of St. James’s Palace.
And Bella has no idea.
I’m so disappointed in them. They knew tonight was a big deal for me, to introduce Roman to them, and they can’t even manage to pull it together for one night?
No, I think painfully, they can’t.
Mum isn’t even in this room. I have no idea if she left or if she’ll come back.
“Liz.”
Roman’s voice interrupts my thoughts as he hands me a glass of wine. I gratefully take it and have a deep sip. I glance up at him. “Mum is here—I mean, not in this room but somewhere here. Dad is late. I… I don’t know when he’ll make it.”
Roman’s eyes study mine. “It’s all right.” Then his hand lightly presses against my bare back in a measure of comfort.
He knows.
Tears of gratitude prick my eyes for this man, who knows what is in my heart without me having to say a word.
I love you, I think.
A buzz goes about the room, and I see my grandmother has entered, dressed in a long cream gown embroidered with crystals. Arthur is dapper in his tuxedo. By his side, of course, is Antonia. She holds her head regally. Not a hair is out of place in her chignon, and her long, navy column dress fits her like an elegant glove.
Antonia smiles that magical smile she bestows on her beloved fans and scans the room. I hold my breath and wait for her to see me. As her head slowly turns in my direction, her eyes lock in on mine.
The smile doesn’t waver.
But the eyes tell me everything.
