by Jenny Frame
“Yes, they’ll call when she is on her way. Why are you so nervous, Your Majesty? I thought you had decided just to take your friendship one step at a time?”
George wandered over to the coffee table and lifted the model ship Bea had given her. She found the gift a great comfort and insisted on bringing it with her. After a minute or so of silence, George admitted, “I kissed her.”
Cammy looked surprised.
George felt the heat rising in her cheeks at the memory. The memory that had kept her awake till the small hours since. “When we spent the day together at Windsor, we were so close…it just happened.”
“At the risk of sounding prurient, what was it like?”
The speed of George’s heart increased as she remembered the utter bliss of kissing her love. “It felt like finding something I’ve been missing my whole life. I felt complete, and I would give anything to feel that again.” George sat down in the armchair despondently.
“How did she react? It couldn’t have been that bad, surely?”
“It was. Oh, she responded to the kiss as much as I, but when I went to tell how I felt, she silenced me. She said one day I would push her away for someone more suitable and break her heart.” George buried her face in her hands.
“And would you?”
George looked up sharply. “Would I what?”
“Push her away?” Cammy asked gently.
George stood and said, “Never. How could you ask me that, Cammy? You’ve known me since I graduated from Sandhurst. Have you ever seen me behave in such a manner?”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I had to ask. You’ve always behaved impeccably with anyone who’s ever met you. I just wanted to know how serious you were about this lassie.”
George slumped back down on the chair. “You have seen her while we’ve travelled the country, Cammy. She’s perfect for the role of Queen Consort. Even today at the building project, while meeting the staff, she took time to listen to everyone, any concerns they had, and left them smiling. Can you imagine having that wonderful woman to support me in this role of mine?”
“She is, Ma’am. I had my concerns, especially about her views on the monarchy, but she has really shown her warm and gentle heart over the time we have known her. The lassie would be an outstanding consort.” Cammy came over and sat in front of her friend. “If you love her, George, and I mean love her enough to go against any opposition there might be, then you have to show her, through thought and deed, that she is the only lassie and consort you will have in your life.”
“I love her more than enough for that, but she won’t let me raise the subject of our feelings. How do I show her?”
“Don’t raise it. Do as you are doing—invite her to dinner, and invite her to some of the events you have in the coming months. Wear the lassie down. If she loves you like you love her, she’ll give in.”
“How did you get knowledgeable about women, Captain Cameron?” George said with a smile.
Cammy stood and smoothed down her uniform. “I might never have been in love, Your Majesty, but I’ve chased a lot of lassies.” She gave George a quick wink.
“So that’s what you were doing on shore leave when I stayed aboard ship?”
Cammy smiled enigmatically and said, “So, will there be anything further, Ma’am?”
“And what do you advise I do about the political obstacles in my path?”
“If I were you, Ma’am, I’d take the best advice from the very top, not from some of your more aged advisors, as they have their minds rooted in the past.”
“You are right, Captain. I will speak to the prime minister at our weekly meeting. If I know any obstacles can be overcome, then perhaps I can persuade Bea.”
Cammy’s mobile rang, and she answered. “Cameron…Yes, send her along straight away, Inspector Lang.”
George smoothed her hair back nervously. “We’re on parade?”
“Indeed, Ma’am. Good luck.”
*
Bea had been surprised to find the dining table in the Queen’s suite to be very formally set. When George had invited her for something to eat, and a film afterwards, she thought it would be an informal occasion. She looked at George, dressed in a smart dark navy suit, and regretted just pulling on her jeans and a cream blouse.
As George approached her, she gave her a small curtsy. “Your Majesty, if I had known you were going to so much trouble, I would have dressed more appropriately.”
“Not at all. You look beautiful as always, Bea.” George took her hand and kissed it.
The touch of her lips made Bea’s heart beat faster. She was led over to the table and helped into the dining chair.
The candles glowing softly gave the room a romantic setting. Oh, Georgie, you’re making it so difficult for me just to be friends with you.
Once George took her seat, Captain Cameron appeared and poured the wine. “Shall I return in five minutes, Ma’am?” Cammy asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
Captain Cameron bowed and left them alone.
“I would have loved to take you to one of the town’s best restaurants, but unfortunately that is impossible for me. I thought this would be the next best thing. The hotel does serve very fine food, I understand.”
“Of course. This will be perfect, Georgie.” Bea was again reminded of the limits placed on the Queen’s life. “I can’t imagine not being able to go somewhere and do what I want. I don’t know how you cope.”
George took a sip of her wine before answering. “I live a life of great privilege and importance, and the price for that is I can’t do what I like. That’s the deal, and I’m used to it. This has always been my life.”
George never ceased to amaze Bea; her understanding of her position in life was admirable. “That’s a very honest and pragmatic way to look at it, Georgie.”
George shrugged her shoulders. “It’s the way we’re brought up in my family. We’re all aware of how lucky we are, and our duties and responsibilities that come with those privileges. Well…perhaps not cousin Julian.”
Bea giggled softly. “I did get that impression.”
George topped up both their wine glasses and said, “I do sometimes wonder what it would feel like to go somewhere and just be another face in the crowd.”
“A lot of ordinary people crave the feeling of standing out in the crowd, of being a celebrity,” Bea said.
“I’m not a celebrity. Celebrities court the camera and aspire to be known—I do not. I have never chosen this, but I have been recognizable around the world since the moment I was born, before I was even conscious of it. Mama and Papa were a fairy-tale couple. Their wedding was watched by two-and-a-half billion people around the world, so you can imagine the interest when their firstborn came along.”
The thought of being under that much scrutiny was terrifying. “Two-and-a-half billion?”
“Granny told me that there were press teams from all over the world camped out in front of the hospital before I was born. The first pictures of me were taken the day after I was born as my parents left the hospital. So you see, it’s all I’ve ever known.”
Bea felt such a sense of sadness for her. She did live an extraordinary life, but she most certainly paid for it. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around George and soothe her. She thought about the birthday idea she’d come up with and decided to bring it up after dinner.
“Well, Your Majesty, I see it as my task as your friend to show you a bit of normal life.”
“Oh, you do, Bea,” George said with a smile.
“While you, Your Majesty, can show me the finer side of life, starting with this delicious meal.”
George handed her the menu. “I would be glad to.”
Cammy phoned the order to the kitchen, and their meal was delivered in no time at all.
“This is delicious,” Bea said.
George sat with her hands clasped in front of her chin, simply watching Bea enjoy her food. She ate and enjoyed the new tastes
with such a passion, and George wondered if she was equally as passionate in other areas of life.
“This is divine, Georgie.” Bea popped another piece of lobster into her mouth. “What’s it called, again?”
“Homard de Cornouailles à la nage, sauce vierge.” The French slipped off George’s tongue with a low burr.
“You speak French?” Bea asked with a husky tone to her voice.
“I speak several European languages. I have to be able to communicate with people as I travel around the world.” George had noticed that the atmosphere in the room had changed. She felt a palpable electricity in the air. Bea had a hungry look in her eye, and she was sure it was because of her.
“Say something in Italian for me, and I’ll let you have a piece of lobster.” Bea lifted a bit of lobster and held it up for inspection.
George, feeling brave, grabbed hold of Bea’s wrist and pulled her fingers inches from her lips. “Ti amo, la mia Regina Bea.” I love you, my Queen Bea.
Bea moaned at the words.
“Do I get my prize?” George asked.
Bea nodded, and her lips parted slightly as George closed her eyes and took Bea’s fingers into her mouth. She took the piece of lobster from Bea’s fingertips. The taste of the lobster was soon replaced by the sensuous feel of her warm tongue, licking and sucking the remaining juices from the tips of Bea’s fingers, and she was lost.
It felt like she was making love to Bea’s fingers and could only imagine what it would feel like to have Bea naked beneath her, as she kissed her body and coaxed throaty moans from her. The sensation became overpowering, and she knew she had to stop this before it went any further.
She released her fingers, only to hear Bea moan, “Georgie.”
Her eyes slowly opened and she found that Bea looked as dazed as she felt.
“Sorry, the lobster was delicious.”
Bea looked down at her hands bashfully and appeared to think it best to ignore what had just passed between them. “You spoke Italian beautifully. What did it mean?”
George gave her a wink. “That’s a secret.”
“Oh, come on, Georgie That’s not fair. Please tell me?” Bea pleaded.
It had felt wonderful to George to tell Bea that she loved her, even if her love didn’t understand the words. She prayed one day she could say it again, in English this time. “No, not today. Maybe one day. Now, would you like dessert here, or shall we retire to the comfortable couch?”
“I think the couch, and since you refuse to tell me what I want to know, Your Majesty, I’m going to order the biggest and most decadent dessert, and not give you a taste,” Bea said with a teasing smile.
George could only laugh at her love’s girlish enthusiasm. “As you wish, Miss Elliot.”
*
Bea had indeed shared her dessert, feeding George a spoonful after every one she had, and George loved the intimate act.
“I can’t believe this is the type of film you like.” Bea set the dessert bowl on the table and moved closer to her on the couch.
George, who had dispensed with her suit jacket and rolled up her shirt sleeves to her elbows, eased her arm along the back of the couch, like a teenage boy at the cinema. Assured that her little move had gone unnoticed, she replied, “What? Why? Roman Holiday with Audrey Hepburn is a classic of the silver screen.”
“Oh, I agree. I just didn’t think a big, tough—sailor? soldier?—whatever you are would like an old romantic, mushy film.”
George chuckled and said, “Well, may I remind you that I am very old-fashioned, to the point of being stuffy, Theo says, and I’m not scared to admit I love old-fashioned romance. I don’t think it detracts from my prize bull qualities, do you?”
Bea smiled as she watched George arch an eyebrow. “No, it doesn’t. I think it’s sweet.”
George felt her cheeks redden and they both turned back to the screen in front of them. “It was Mama to blame, really. She’s a hopeless romantic and watched these sorts of films when I was growing up. You know, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Casablanca, Brief Encounter. I like them all, but Roman Holiday was my favourite because it was about a princess who got to escape the gilded cage and experience things she would never have had the opportunity to do.”
“Pause film.”
The image of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck froze instantly, and George looked at Bea, a bit confused.
“Can I talk to you about an idea I’ve had, Georgie?”
“Of course, Bea, you can talk to me about anything.”
Bea sat round and faced her. “When we were at Windsor, I heard your private secretary talking about your birthday arrangements.”
“Oh yes, of course. We’re having a dinner for my official birthday in June.” George reached out and took Bea’s hand. “Your name was on the top of the list. I hope you’ll come.”
“Yes, I’ll come if you would like me to, Georgie, but I was thinking about what I could get you, and I wanted to float an idea with you.”
Still holding hands with her, George tried to reassure her. “You don’t need to get me anything, Bea. The pleasure of your company will be enough. It’s not my actual birthday, you know—my real birthday was in November, when I was still at sea. The monarch has an official birthday in June, hoping that the weather will be better for the Trooping the Colour birthday parade.”
Bea looked undeterred. “I know, Mum explained that, but since I didn’t know you on your real birthday, I thought I would celebrate this one with you. Is that okay?”
“Of course it is. What would you like to do?”
Bea took a deep breath. “I know this will sound crazy, especially with the security problems you have at the moment, but I thought, what is the one thing that Georgie doesn’t have? What would she prize above all other things?”
George was certainly intrigued and wondered what she’d come up with. “And what conclusion did you come to?”
Bea looked deep into her eyes and said one word. “Freedom. Freedom for one night to be a normal, unremarkable person lost in the crowd.”
George felt her heart both constrict and feel like exploding at the same time. This woman had, in one word, encapsulated and understood the longings of her very soul. Without asking, she pulled Bea onto her lap and into her arms. She held her tight and whispered, “You understand. How can you understand me so well?”
“I don’t know, Georgie. It just comes naturally to me. When I look at you, I can see what you keep locked up tight, laid bare.” Bea hung onto George just as tightly.
George pulled back a little and said, “But how can I have this freedom for one night?”
Bea gave her a big smile and said, “That’s the clever bit. First of all, I’ll tell you what I had planned for the night, and maybe you can speak to Cammy and your protection squad and see if it’s at all possible.”
“I can do that. What did you have in mind?”
*
George paced up and down in front of Bea, recapping the plan. “So we base ourselves at a London hotel, and your friend Holly, who is a cosmetic artist, will do her stuff and disguise me, make me look like a man?”
“I don’t think it’ll take much to make you look masculine—you are wonderfully butch—but she will make you look unrecognizable.”
“Before we talk some more about your plan, could I ask you something?”
Bea patted the cushion beside her. “Always. Come and sit.”
“Do I displease you? I mean, the way I present myself, butch as you call it. I’ve never given the way I am a name. I’ve just always been more masculine. It’s just me.”
Bea couldn’t stop herself immediately reaching out and cupping George’s cheek. “You could never displease me, Georgie. You are good looking, handsome, beautiful, all of the above. It’s what makes you unique, and you will be a very unique monarch.”
She could see George’s eyes soften as she absorbed the touch of her hand. It was clear to Bea that they both felt the same, they were both i
n love, but a love that they couldn’t allow to blossom. She pulled her hand back, feeling awkward. “So we’ll change your appearance and dress you up, and you can experience a night out at Mickey D’s with my friends. I want this night to be my gift to you before…” Inside she knew it would be as much a gift for herself as for George. One night to be two ordinary friends, before their friendship came to an inevitable end. “Before your coronation, and your life becomes even more demanding,” she lied.
George remained silent as she looked deeply into her eyes.
“Georgie? What is it? Are you worried about my friends? I give you my word, you can trust them. I promise you won’t find anything leaked to the press from them. I’ve known these girls from the first day of uni—they’re good people.”
“I trust your judgment, Bea, it isn’t that. I just can’t believe you would think of this for me. I…”
She could see how emotional George was, and as always, Bea was afraid George would say something that could not be taken back. “It’s okay, Georgie. I understand. Do you think it’s something that could be done? With security and everything?”
“I don’t see why not. After all, I’ll be fairly hard to recognize. I’m sure Inspector Lang won’t be over the moon with the idea, but it’s a one-off situation and I’m sure I can convince him.”
“Great,” Bea said excitedly. “I can’t wait for you to meet my friends.”
“It will be wonderful. Thank you for the kind idea. It’ll be the best present I’ve ever had.”
Bea gave her a soft punch on the biceps and said, “Okay, I think we’ve kept Miss Hepburn waiting long enough.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sir Michael Bradbury sat at his desk in the hotel suite below the Queen’s. He was nursing his second large whisky of the night. “Bloody woman.”
Since Bea Elliot came on the scene, he’d been isolated from the Queen. Before, he’d enjoyed unrestrained access, but ever so gradually, he felt he was being set adrift from her. It seemed like every time he wished to see the Queen, she was there. Everyone around the Queen had fallen for her charms, even the Queen’s bumptious equerry, Major Fairfax. Added to this, Queen Georgina had been using his subordinate, Sebastian, more and more for tasks normally given to him.
