The Last in Line (The Royal Inheritance Series Book 1)

by Banks, Evie

  “Excellent,” said Audrey and began combing through Renee’s wet hair with swift, efficient strokes. She added a daub of gel to her palm, ran it through the hair and with the help of a few strategically placed pins, quickly had Renee’s hair up in an elegant twist.

  Leanne, on the other hand, went to town scrubbing every inch of Renee until her skin glowed red. “Just like when you were a toddler; you always knew how to get in the dirt,” muttered Leanne. “There, done! Time for the dress and makeup. Cassandra, it’s your turn. Get yourself scrubbed up quick.”

  “But my undergarments are wet,” said Renee.

  “Do you really need them?” asked Audrey.

  “YES!” said Renee and Roberts simultaneously.

  Audrey considered the dress. “It’s got enough layers that you won’t leak through. The corset goes on first, anyhow.” Audrey helped lace up the corset and then she and Leanne slid the dress over her, taking care not to mess up Renee’s hair. It fit perfectly. She added the jeweled pins and medals and a pale blue sash over her shoulder.

  Leanne heaved the large, black briefcase she had brought with her onto the table and popped it open. Inside was what must have been every cosmetic known to man.

  “You’re doing my makeup?” said Renee in disbelief.

  Leanne’s taste in cosmetics tended toward the garish, heavy on the eyeliner and blue eye shadow. Fake eyelashes were a particularly welcomed addition.

  “Do you see anybody else? Besides, I had to make a living in Reno somehow until my singing career took off. I did makeup for performers and weddings. What you need now is something that will stand out on television. Trust me.”

  Renee was skeptical, but Leanne was right, there was no one else. Besides, she was too exhausted to argue. “Ok. I trust you.”

  Leanne quickly selected tubes and brushes and worked with deft hands. Renee felt her face being molded like it was child’s clay. She closed her eyes and puckered her lips when directed. Almost as quickly as she had started, Leanne was finished. She held up a mirror and to Renee’s surprise she loved the result. Grace Kelly couldn’t have looked better. But she didn’t have time to admire it for long because the knock came at the door. It was time.

  There was a flurry of activity while Audrey and Leanne and Roberts did last second checking. Cassandra was scrubbed, brushed and dressed in her own pink and cream dress. She looked as sweet as a rose petal. They lined up at the door, ready for their cue to file out to their seats.

  Cassandra turned around and flashed a smile. “Good luck, Mom.”

  Renee took a deep breath and before she knew what was happening, the others had filed out and gone to take their seats. Only Roberts remained by the door.

  “Despite everything, it’s all going according to schedule. The last of the dignitaries has just been seated,” he said.

  “Well, that’s a relief,” said Renee, bouncing from foot to foot, not really paying attention to him. The high heeled shoes were pinching her toes already and she knew there was much to come. At the last minute she kicked them off and retrieved her boots, ignoring Roberts’s horrified expression. She pulled them on and felt a million times better.

  The opening bars to Psalm 122 began to play, which was her signal to begin proceeding down the aisle. This was it. Her moment had come. She took one final glance around the room, wanting to remember the last time when she would just be Renee and not Her Majesty Queen Georgina. Her gaze landed on the pistol. Without thinking, she snatched it up and hooked it on her sash. She used one of her sparkling broaches to pin it through the trigger guard. This gun had saved her ancestor George Montshire and travelled with him to the New World. It had been passed down her family and been used again to save her life. It deserved to walk up the aisle towards that throne. She took the first steps out of the side chamber.

  “Oh, and Ma’am?” said Roberts.

  Renee looked back, confused. Her mind was in a million places. Had she forgotten something?

  “God save the Queen,” said Roberts and bowed.

  Tears filled Renee’s eyes. She nodded and turned back towards her goal: the Archbishop waiting for her at the far end of the cathedral. It was a long walk from Farland, Texas to the humble looking chair built over a rectangular stone.

  The rest of the ceremony was a blur. As she slowly put one foot in front of the other, stepping carefully to avoid tripping over her hem or twisting the train, she looked up and faces appeared out of the confusion. In the upper balcony she saw Brenda’s face shining down at her. Next to her were Antonio and Brian, who blinked like a blind mole through his glasses. She saw Cassandra, Leanne and Audrey in places of honor beside Prime Minister Rufus, who watched the proceedings with a grim countenance. Behind him, the leader of the opposition, Alan Britchford, smiled triumphantly. Somewhere along the way she caught sight of Erastus Hughes’s whiskery face.

  There were several parts to the ceremony and Renee went through them automatically, as she had practiced. Finally came the moment everyone had been waiting for. The Archbishop held up the crown and slowly placed it on her head. Renee spoke her lines and heard her voice reach the highest points of the Abbey.

  “I, Georgina Renee Montshire, do pledge to uphold the laws of this land and the Church of England. So help me God.”

  The Abbey filled with the resounding response. “God save the Queen!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  DURING THE CARRIAGE ride back to the Palace, Renee and Cassandra waved and smiled to the jubilant crowds.

  No one on the street could see how tightly Renee held Cassandra tightly to her and propped up her elbow so that the exhausted girl could wave too. Cassandra was pale and Renee wanted nothing more than to tuck her into bed and sit beside her all night watching her face, never wanting to look away for fear that she might lose her daughter again. Cassandra had been through so much and had been so brave, yet here she was waving as if this were the greatest day of her life though Renee could feel her body trembling. Leanne sat opposite them in the carriage enjoying her moment in the spotlight, blowing kisses and batting her glued on eyelashes, not showing any ill effects of the previous night’s thunk on the head.

  They arrived at the Palace. Renee maintained her poise as they walked out on the balcony and the roar of the crowd stunned even Renee who remembered what it had sounded like when the Dallas Cowboys had last won the Super Bowl. No one in the crowd knew what Renee and Cassandra had been through in the last twenty-four hours and despite her smile, which was beginning to feel pasted on, she worried continuously about Chase and wondered what should be done about Princess Althena. She knew, too, that by now John’s family had been informed of his death and that she would need some quiet moments to call them. What should have been the most exciting moment of her life, felt like the solemnest.

  Once they were done waving and back inside, Renee turned to whisk Cassandra away. She needed a doctor, she needed food, and she needed her mother to caress her hair as she drifted off to a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Roberts placed a staying hand on her shoulder. “The first guests will be arriving in moments. You must remain a few more hours, Your Majesty. Duty first.” His eyes both pleaded and declared that she should stay and she knew that she would. The diamond-crusted handcuffs were already closing around her wrists. In an instant she understood Althena’s sense of oppression, though she would never agree with her methods.

  Seeing the anguish in Renee’s face, Audrey stepped forward and took Cassandra’s hand. “I’ll take care of her. Seen one party, seen them all,” she said airily, though Renee knew that Audrey had been looking forward to the ball. Renee crushed them both in a hug and watched with a heavy heart as they followed a maid down a corridor. Renee could hear Audrey’s voice echo back to them: “Bloody hell, you need a map to find your way around here.”

  Leanne put her arm around Renee. “She’s a good kid. A smartass, but still good.”

  For the first time since she was thirteen, Renee leaned her head on her m
other’s shoulder. It felt good to let someone else carry the weight for a minute. Then, since guests could be heard arriving, Renee arranged her face back into a mask of serenity and took Roberts’s arm to walk downstairs and fulfill her role.

  As the Palace filled with guests and music, it was easy to pretend that she was merely tired after pulling several double waitressing shifts in a row. In fact, her interactions felt like server work. She moved from guest to guest just as she used to move from table to table. She thanked her guests for their good wishes, joked about the length of the coronation ceremony, expressed gratitude that she hadn’t tripped on her long gown. It was easy. She could do it with her eyes closed. In fact, on more than one occasion, after receiving a sharp nudge from Roberts, she realized she had done just that.

  The ball wore on and it amused Renee to watch the bikers, whom she had insisted be given admittance, stand awkwardly in their denim and leather and tattoos among the dignitaries dressed in jewels and expensive finery. She caught sight of one of the bikers, a man with a handlebar mustache and a tattoo of a chain around his throat, waltzing elegantly with the Kenyan ambassador’s wife. People have hidden talents, she thought and smiled. The Texas Rangers were also there and it did her homesick heart proud to see that there were scads of elegant women waiting to dance with these rough men of the law.

  This was certainly a Coronation for the history books. The champagne flowed freely and at one point Leanne tottered up to the stage before anyone could stop her and began crooning a standard into the microphone. Renee had to admit that she wasn’t bad. It was then that Roberts whispered into her ear that the Prime Minister needed a word with her.

  She followed Roberts through several doors and down hallways until the din of the celebration was behind them. They entered a paneled room with tufted chairs. Rufus, Britchford, and some high ranking security people were huddled together. They turned when Roberts announced Renee’s arrival. Unlike the first time when they had met and bobbed their heads uncertainly, this time they bowed.

  Rufus, whose grim countenance had taken on a look of defeated weariness, spoke first.

  “Your Majesty, we have just been briefed on the events leading up to the Coronation. We are, to put it mildly, in shock and wish to express our deepest concerns over your well-being and that of your daughter.”

  “Thank you, Prime Minister.”

  “There will, of course, be a full investigation. A suspect has already been identified.”

  “Well of course he has been identified, you’re the one who brought him here,” said Britchford with a feigned touch of asperity. A slight smile played at his lips, happy in the knowledge that he had Rufus in checkmate.

  Rufus looked like a man who knew his political life was over. “Our security forces will not rest until Ammon Bretton has been brought to justice. We were already looking for him in order to deport him to America for trial, but our efforts will be redoubled. He is public enemy number one.”

  Renee nodded. The sooner Bretton was captured, the easier she would sleep at night. Bretton was clever, though, and he had already outwitted the American justice system as well as the British authorities. She hoped they would find him quickly.

  “However, there is also the matter of Princess Althena’s role in the affair. Murder, my God!” Rufus’s gruff voice faltered and Britchford took up the thread, this time without the triumphalism.

  “It’s simply unbelievable that Princess Althena—a darling girl I’ve met on several occasions—could be capable of this. Her mobile was found on her, but no calls had been made to or from it. It is quite a mystery who might have been helping her.”

  “She said she’d met some people at her university who opened her eyes. She mentioned a man,” said Renee.

  “Obviously it was Bretton,” said Britchford.

  Renee shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. She barely spared a word for him and besides, he was busy with his murder spree in America.”

  Britchford sighed. “Perhaps it was someone from the university then. A sweet, impressionable girl out of her bubble for the first time and in love with a handsome, intense young man who used that to his advantage. The question is how do we inform the country about all of this?”

  “No,” said Renee quickly. “Don’t tell them anything. Not about this.”

  Prime Minister Rufus, Alan Britchford, and the men with gold braid and medals on their chest stared at her in surprise.

  “Why the hell not?” said Rufus, chomping furiously on his cigar.

  “Tell them anything you want about Bretton; the country already knows he’s a murderer. But Althena? The nation has been through so much trauma already. If news gets out that a royal slaughtered the aristocratic families of most of Europe, would people be able to handle it? Their memories of the royals will be crushed.”

  “There could be a huge backlash against the very concept of monarchy,” said Britchford, his eyes wide and worried.

  “There could be a backlash against the government for not properly supporting the monarchy,” said Rufus, his eyebrows knitted together.

  “There could be a backlash against the security services for not protecting the monarchy,” piped up one of the security men, his face inscrutable.

  The men began all talking at once in low, nervous tones. Renee couldn’t distinguish what they were saying. She tried to speak, but they didn’t hear her.

  “Would y’all shut up a minute!”

  The room fell into silence. Roberts looked flabbergasted.

  “We shouldn’t tell the public that Althena did it because Althena was technically the Queen when I shot her.”

  Silence followed her statement.

  “Yes, you are right,” said Britchford, shaking his head. “Still….”

  “No one will ever speak of it. Althena died in the explosion and that’s that,” said Rufus.

  Everyone solemnly nodded their heads.

  Roberts whispered that Renee’s presence would begin to be missed at the Coronation Ball. She turned to go with him, her heart heavy. The gentlemen of the room bowed again. She turned back again suddenly. “Where will Althena be buried?”

  “Where ever you want her to be,” snapped Rufus. He felt entitled to a moment of peevishness; the last few weeks—nay, the last few months since the Royal Grand Reunion had gone up in flames—had been the worst of his life.

  “Bury her quietly on the family grounds, but not too close to them,” said Renee and left the room.

  * * *

  Renee spent a few minutes gather herself together and when she got back to the main ballroom her mother was in full rockabilly mode, swaying her hips, snapping her fingers, and backed by the swing band on stage behind her. The Rangers kicked up their boot heels and twirled the well-dressed women until they were dizzy. The mood in the ballroom was so energetic and fun, and so different from the somber room she had just left, that Renee couldn’t help but smile. The song was one of her mother’s favorites and she remembered dancing to it as a child while her mother played it over and over again. Renee was lost in the memory and didn’t see the large woman spinning in her direction until she barreled into her, nearly knocking Renee off her feet.

  The woman grabbed Renee’s arm to steady her and said in a Texan twang, “Oh, I’m so sorry! I hope I didn’t step on your dress. These cowboys sure do know how to dance a woman off her feet. Why, Renee. Is that you, sugar? Don’t you recognize your old friend, Brenda?”

  In truth, Renee was still seeing double, but when she realized it was Brenda, she threw her arms around the woman and they hugged and jumped in a very unroyal manner.

  Brenda stepped back and grinned. “Family business, huh? You look amazing. I can’t believe it. A real queen! Where’s my little Casshopper? I need to give her a squeeze. It just ain’t the same back home without someone to sneak pancakes to,” said Brenda, looking around.

  “She’s in bed,” said Renee, but there was something about the way she said it that caused Brenda to sq
uint her eyes and peer into Renee’s face.

  “Hard transition?” said Brenda.

  “Something like that,” replied Renee, suddenly feeling very weary, but then she had a wonderful idea. “I…I could use some help.”

  “Looks to me like you’ve got all the help you need. Someone to make your bed, clean your toilet, fix you dinner and probably even to rub your feet if you wished it. After a day at the diner, I wish someone would rub my feet. I’m sure a party like this is just a regular, old evening for you,” said Brenda and laughed. She looked happily at the activity swirling around them in the ballroom.

  “No, I mean I need someone I can trust and who I can trust with Cassandra. Brenda, would you be willing to live here and help me out? I can’t raise her on my own, not in the middle of all this.”

  Brenda’s jaw dropped.

  “Live here? In the palace?” she asked, incredulous.

  “I know it’s a lot to ask and you can absolutely say no—”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes? Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely yes. My boys are grown and moved away, and I’ve done dated every employed, age appropriate male in the county and found them wanting. You think I want to spend the rest of my life pouring coffee for Brian? Let me think: my life choices as they currently stand are to work at the diner or work in a palace. That’s a tough one. Which would you choose?”

  Renee met Brenda’s smile. It would be good for both her and Cassandra to have Brenda there dishing out common sense and bear hugs in these foreign climes. Maybe they could even sweet talk her into making a breakfast burrito from time to time since no one in England seemed to have heard of it. For the first time since she had answered Roberts’s phone last night, she felt a moment of joy, like it was all going to be okay. Brenda’s eyes suddenly lit up and Renee quickly learned the reason why.

  A warm and elegant voice spoke behind them. It was Simon Coakely.

  “Excuse me, Ladies, but I’m without a partner. Would one of you honor me with a dance?”