Romancing Rayne

by Riley Edwards

  Oliver chuckled before he answered for Ghost. “Not exactly. He’s calling in favors, if you will.”

  “I would love the super-secret tour if you’re not going to get in trouble.”

  Both men laughed, and Ghost shook his head before leaning down, giving me a sweet peck on my cheek. “Princess, it is very unlikely Oliver can get into trouble. He has friends in high places.”

  “Oh, so, your brethren then.”

  “Something like that. Come on, let’s take a look around.”

  We followed Oliver through one of the archways into a wide hallway.

  “This is the Common’s Corridor. If you turn around and look back toward the lobby, the doorway directly opposite of where we are, is the Peer’s Corridor. That side of the octagon is The House of Lords. The Prince’s Chamber is also on that side. As well as Victoria Tower and the Royal Entrance.”

  Oliver stopped to allow us to look at some large murals painted on the walls. Four on each side, all with very interesting names. I stood in front of one titled: The Executioner.

  “Stunning artwork,” I noted.

  “Not up to my tastes,” Oliver commented. “A bit stuffy if you ask me.”

  He wasn’t wrong, however the history behind the paintings made them beautiful.

  “This is the Common’s Lobby. You can see it’s quite a large space for nothing more than mailboxes for the MP’s and a gathering place. That, over there, is where the agenda, committee notes, and whatnot can be picked up.”

  This area wasn’t as grand as the Central Lobby; however the intricate stonework and statues were still impressive.

  Oliver didn’t give us long to look around before he started walking again. Marble flooring gave way to green carpet and stone walls into dark, wooden panels that were polished to a high sheen. There were several doors on either side of us, however Oliver continued to walk straight through a set of double doors.

  “And this is the House of Commons Chamber.”

  “Holy wow. Really?”

  Ghost squeezed my hand before he let go so I could explore on my own.

  The ceiling in there had to be at least three stories tall. There was a U-shaped balcony, giving anyone standing or sitting up there the perfect view to peek in on whatever debate was taking place below them.

  “Why are there red lines on the floor?” I asked.

  “Members may not speak from the Chamber floor. They have to remain behind the red line,” Ghost answered.

  “And this?” I pointed to a large, wooden structure in the middle of the room holding books and two large brackets that looks like they were meant to display something.

  “The mace is placed there when the Chamber is in session. It is a five foot long ornamental club,” Oliver explained. “It’s carried in each time the House is sitting.”

  “Everything’s green in here,” I noted, looking at the stadium style seating. All the benches were upholstered in a deep, leafy color, and the carpet was a more muted hue.

  “The color of the commoner, one can assume, but it’s not known for certain why the color was chosen. However, the House of Lords is red, the color of nobility. Are you ready to continue?” Oliver asked.

  “Yes, sorry. I hope I’m not asking too many questions. Everything’s so interesting.”

  “Not at all.”

  Ghost walked beside me and clasped my hand in his, drawing me to a stop. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Are you kidding me? Our own personal tour. This is the best day ever.”

  “I’m glad you like it. There’s more to see.”

  We continued through the Chamber, exiting through another hallway on the far side of where we’d entered. It shined with the same polished, dark wooden paneling. The corridors back there were less impressive than the ones on the other side of the House of Commons Chamber. More utilitarian, leading to what looked like janitorial closets and storage. Nothing particularly fancy or pretty.

  The hall came to an end, and Oliver stopped in front of a closed door. I looked around, trying to figure out where we were going when I finally saw it.

  “Are you serious?” I gasped and turned to Ghost. He smiled at me and nodded. “How? No way! Really?”

  I knew I was squealing like a three-year-old hopped up on Twizzlers and Pixy Stix and if Oliver wasn’t there, I may have danced a jig.

  I’d lost focus on everything around me except the one thing I was most excited about, a sign saying Clock Tower.

  Oliver unlocked the door and held it open for us.

  “Ghost,” I whispered. The reality of the situation breaking through my excitement. “Are we really going to the top?”

  “Yeah, Princess. Are you up for all these stairs? All 334 of them.”

  I was going to climb the clock tower stairs. A once in a lifetime opportunity.

  “I’m ready.”

  The staircase was small and circular. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the building; there was nothing grand about the trek up.

  “Are you counting?” Ghost asked from behind me.

  “Yes. Don’t talk or you’ll make me lose my place.” I peered over the railing and, though we were only seventy-five steps into our journey, it appeared we’d climbed quite a distance, but when I looked up, the top seemed to be at least a mile away.

  I didn’t know how Ghost had pulled it off, but tonight he was going to get one hell of a thank you.

  Ghost

  Watching Rayne’s eyes light up with excitement was worth every bit of juggling I’d had to do to get her access to the Clock Tower. I still had a few more surprises for my wife and I couldn’t wait to show her.

  “What’s this?” she asked, pointing to an open room.

  “The Prison Room. Once upon a time, this room was used as a prison for unruly members of Parliament. After a few nights locked away up here they tended to behave.” Oliver chuckled. “Now it’s simply a museum of sorts.”

  “May I?” she asked and motioned to the room.

  “Of course, take your time. We still have over 200 steps to go.”

  Rayne disappeared into the room, leaving Oliver and I alone on the landing.

  “Congratulations. You look happy.”

  “Thanks, man, I am.”

  “She doesn’t know, does she?” he asked and gestured up the stairs.

  “No. She didn’t know she’d get to see Big Ben either. I told her we were coming here so she could get a postcard. She’s been collecting them whenever we stop and mailing them to her girls back home.”

  “I heard all of you were married off. Even Truck.”

  “Yeah, the fucker’s been married awhile now. He and Mary tied the knot and didn’t tell anyone about it.”

  “Damn, bet that hurt.”

  “It caused some issues, but we’re straight now, so it’s all good. What about you, Sparky? You got a woman locked away somewhere?”

  “I have many women in many places, but nothing like you have. Don’t have time with my schedule.” There was a sadness in Oliver’s gaze that was familiar. I’d had the same look when I’d met Rayne then left her. For six months, I’d walked around in a haze.

  “Make time. Trust me; it’s worth it.”

  “What’s worth what?” Rayne appeared in the doorway. “It’s really cool in there. Ghost, you wanna look around?”

  “I’ve been in there before, Princess. If you’re done, let’s go up.”

  “I knew it.” She walked to my side and looked up, smiling. “I knew you’d been up here before.”

  Oliver laughed and shook his head. “I bet Ghost has been a lot of places most people would only dream of seeing.”

  “I know you’re right. I don’t bother to ask because I know he can’t tell me, but I’m sure I’d be amazed.”

  The rest of the walk was done in silence. Rayne was counting steps and I was thinking about some of the places I’d been; most were shit holes. I’d spent a lot of time in the desert, dirty, hot, and hungry. However, I had to admit
there were some places I’d been to most people didn’t even know existed. Vaults deep underground, fallout shelters for the US government, and evacuation tunnels. Not that any of those things would interest Rayne.

  “Wow, there are a lot of steps,” Rayne commented, sounding a little out of breath.

  “We’re almost to the clock dial. How are you holding up?”

  “Great. It’s a good thing I’m in shape.”

  “I’ll carry you down if you need me to.”

  “I’m sure you would. But there’s no need. I promise, I feel fine.”

  A few more turns and the winding staircase ended. Oliver opened the door and allowed Rayne to proceed him, following her in.

  “This is the clock dial.” Oliver pointed out. “Each of the four faces has 312 cut opal glass panels set in cast iron. Behind you, on the wall, there are twenty-eight bulbs to illuminate the clock face. Each of the four have them.”

  “Holy wow, it’s so big.”

  “Twenty-three feet in diameter,” Oliver explained.

  We walked around and looked at all four faces before climbing another set of stairs and entering the room above the clock dial.

  “This is the Link Room where the actual clock is housed. The going train, the chiming train, and the striking train.” Oliver pointed out each moving piece of the clock. “And of course, the escapement and pendulum.”

  “I had no idea there were so many gears.” Rayne moved closer for a better look. “Why are there coins on the pendulum?”

  “The clock keeper adds and removes pennies to keep the clock in perfect time. Remove a penny to slow down, add a penny to speed it up.”

  “You ready to see Big Ben?” I asked.

  “Yes!”

  “Just a few more steps up to the belfry.” Oliver walked back to the door and waited for us to follow.

  “Three hundred and thirty-four,” Rayne announced when she took the last step onto the landing. “Holy shit. That’s Big Ben!” Rayne rushed into the room before I could stop her.

  Ten steps in she came to halt, causing me to nearly knock her over in my quest to stop her and warn her of my last surprise.

  “Ghost,” she whispered. “Is that? Is that um . . .”

  “Ghost! You finally made it, mate.”

  9

  Rayne

  My eyes must’ve been playing tricks on me. It had to be the altitude and dehydration.

  “Your Royal Highness. Or is it Duke now? I could never keep all your titles straight.” Ghost stopped and looked over at the beautiful brunette standing in front of us. “May I?” The man nodded, and Ghost continued, “Your Royal Highness. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  Ghost placed his arm around my waist, preventing me from swaying on my feet. What in the world was happening?

  “This is my wife, Rayne. Rayne, this is Spike Wells and his beautiful wife, Meghan. The Duke and Duchess of Sussex,” Ghost unnecessarily announced.

  I wasn’t sure why Ghost was calling Prince Harry that silly name, but anyone with a television or the internet would know who the couple was. Hell, I remember watching the man grow up and had read the tabloid headlines about him.

  I was at a loss. I wanted to kill Ghost. Did I bow or curtsy? Was I allowed to speak to them? Thankfully, the woman stepped forward and extended her hand.

  “Very nice to meet you, Rayne. Please call me Meghan.”

  I took her hand, relieved she was so kind. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I apologize, I’m a little shocked to see you both. I’m afraid I wasn’t told we’d be meeting you or I would’ve dressed for the occasion and possibly brushed up on royal protocol.”

  Meghan didn’t let go of my hand and tugged me away from Ghost.

  “Don’t be silly. I’ve had hours of training and I still get confused. Up here, away from prying eyes, we are simply Harry and Meghan. It is nice to be normal every once in a while.”

  That was so nice of her.

  “Thank you.”

  “So, Rayne, did you enjoy your walk up the tower?” the prince asked.

  I hoped like hell I wasn’t blushing. Now that Meghan had released my hand, I clasped both in front of me to mask how badly I was shaking.

  “I did. This is amazing.”

  “It truly is. Was Oliver helpful in answering all of your questions?”

  “He was. Thank you for allowing me to see such a wonderful treasure.”

  “It’s the least I could do for the man who saved my life.”

  Ghost had saved the prince’s life?

  “I think you’re overstating the situation, Spike,” Ghost chimed in. He always did that—downplayed his heroic efforts.

  “Don’t let this bloke fool you. We were pinned down by the Taliban, almost completely surrounded. We’d called in an airstrike and, seemingly out of nowhere, Ghost, Truck, Beatle, Blade, Fletch, Coach, and Hollywood came up on our position. At the time, none of them knew my identity. I was commanding a troop of eleven men. I kept most of my face covered at all times, not wanting to be recognized. Ghost and his team held off the advancing Taliban, and we were able to fall back to safety. It was a good thing, too; the airstrike had been delayed. If it weren’t for the team, we all would’ve been dead. Oliver, over there, included.”

  “Wow. I had no idea.”

  “It wasn’t until we were back on post debriefing when the team found out who I was. Even then, none of them treated me as anything more than a fellow soldier. No one cared I was in line for the throne. I was Spike Wells, nothing more. I am forever in their debt.”

  “There’s no debt, Spike. You’re just lucky we were nearby and could save your sorry asses.”

  “Ghost! You can’t call the prince a sorry ass,” I chided.

  The men in the room chuckled, and Meghan smiled.

  “I believe Ghost can call him whatever he wants. Besides it’s good for His Royal Highness; it keeps him down to earth with the rest of us common folk.”

  “Is that so, cheeky woman? Are you saying I have an inflated ego?” the prince asked, grabbing a squealing Meghan around the waist, pulling her close.

  “I would never.” She giggled.

  “I think you would.” After a smoldering kiss, which was surely against royal standards, he let her go. “So, what do you think of Big Ben here?”

  “I think it’s amazing.”

  “It’s too bad the unsightly scaffolding is up. The view from up here is normally spectacular.”

  “I’m sure it is. When will the bell ring again?”

  “Not for a bit, I’m afraid. There’s much to repair.”

  “Well, it’s wonderful to see all the same. I really can’t thank you enough for allowing me to see the famous Big Ben. This is something I’ll never forget.”

  “Did you look around the Prison Room on your way up?” Meghan asked.

  “I did. I can’t believe I never knew the tower was used as a prison.”

  “Crazy how much history is all around you,” Meghan commented.

  I wanted to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming. There I was, standing in the belfry, next to the most famous bell in the world having a normal conversation with a prince and the . . . I wasn’t sure what her official title was . . . duchess? Princess? Her Royal Highness? The five of us chatting like it was no big deal. And, Ghost, I had a million questions for him about saving the prince. I knew I wasn’t allowed to ask, but I was dying to know more about the rescue.

  “Are you ready for lunch?” Prince Harry asked.

  “Lunch?”

  “You haven’t told her of our plans?” He turned to Ghost.

  “No. I thought it would be more exciting to let the day play out. Seeing the wonder light her face as each new surprise is revealed has been the highlight of my day.”

  “Isn’t that romantic?” Meghan said, elbowing the prince’s side.

  “Romantic? I took us to Botswana to camp under the stars. All he did was show her an old clock bell,” he joked.

  “No, not an o
ld clock. He’s given me the fairytale. Shown me things I could only dream of seeing.” I turned to Ghost and rolled up on my toes, kissing his cheek. “Thank you for this.”

  “I’m glad you like it, Princess.” The reddish tinge on Ghost’s cheeks told me he wasn’t unaffected by my words, and when he leaned down to whisper in my ear, he confirmed my suspicion. “If we were alone up here, I’d find a place to lay you down and show you just how much I love you.”

  Without meaning to, I looked around the belfry trying to scout out a location we could’ve used. There was nothing in the big room but a high bell in the center and concrete floors.

  “I don’t think that would’ve worked,” I noted.

  “I can make anything work.” He chuckled.

  “Are we ready, lovebirds? Tea begins in an hour,” Harry said, reminding us we were getting ready to leave.

  “One more thing.” Ghost pulled out a ballpoint pen from his pocket and held it up for Prince Harry to see.

  “Right. Yes, of course. We’ll wait here.”

  Ghost took my hand and walked us round the bell where there was an intricate, hand carved door. He opened it, revealing a small utility closest.

  “Here.” He placed the pen in my hand. When I didn’t move, he pushed the door farther open revealing the back side.

  I had to blink a few times before I understood what I was seeing. “What’s this?”

  “Exactly what it looks like.”

  “Ghost! You’re not thinking of adding our names to the back of this door, are you?”

  I scanned the names and dates carved into the wood. The earliest one I could see dated back to 1870. In the center, there were more recent additions. Elizabeth and Philip 1947. William and Catherine 2011. Harry and Meghan 2018.

  “I cannot write on this door. That’s the queen’s name.”

  “Indeed it is.”

  “I can’t.” I handed the pen back to Ghost.

  He had no issue adding our names near the bottom of the door.

  Princess and Ghost 2018

  “There, our names are forever etched into a royal heirloom,” he said proudly.

  “I cannot believe you did that,” I said through a fit of nervous laughter. “That is the most insane thing I’ve ever seen.”