Best Friend to Princess Bride

by Katrina Cudmore

  ‘Edwin, about time.’

  Her neck snapped back at His Highness’s snarled chastisement. Whipping her head around, she felt her heart leap to see Edwin filling the entranceway, dressed in navy trousers and a white shirt, the top button undone to reveal the smooth, tanned skin of his chest.

  His gaze swept towards her. She wanted to look away, to convey her annoyance at his lateness. But instead a rush of relief flooded her body, making her feel weak and light-headed. And then a charge of connection ran between them. A hunger for his company boiled in her stomach and blasted onto her skin.

  It’s as though he’s a different person to the man I saw as my best friend.

  She was noticing things about him she’d avoided seeing before—the powerful physicality of his body, the sharp height of his cheekbones, the firmness of his mouth.

  He gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement and stepped to the side of the doorway, gesturing towards someone out in the corridor to join him.

  And then he was protectively placing his arm around the woman who stood beside him.

  Kara swallowed, disbelief punching away all thoughts. In a daze she moved across the room. Her light-headedness worsened. She swayed, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her. The outer edges of her vision darkened. Within seconds Edwin was at her side. Placing his arm around her, he pulled her against the strength of his body.

  Together they faced her mother. Kara swallowed air greedily, drawing on Edwin’s steadiness.

  Her mum remained in the doorway, staring at her with an intensity that stripped her soul bare. Her mum gave a tentative smile that spoke of a bucketload of anxiety and uncertainty. And the years of fighting and disappointments and isolation suddenly didn’t compare to the tight emotion in her chest at the joy in seeing her mum.

  She held her arms out nervously, wondering how her mum would react.

  Her mum drew back on her heels.

  Kara winced.

  Her mum took a hesitant step forward.

  And then another.

  They hugged, her mum’s embrace so familiar and yet uncomfortable due to its long absence. Kara drew back, the intensity of it all too much to bear.

  She turned to Edwin. He had done this for her, had known, without her saying anything, that she wanted her mum at her side when she married. She held his gaze, this man who knew her so well, and blinked back tears.

  ‘Kara?’

  She turned back at her mum’s soft whisper.

  Her mum moved towards her and for a moment Kara was transported to her childhood bedroom and her mum’s whispered wake-up call that was always accompanied with a soft stroke of her hair. ‘Edwin is right, you know: you are going to need me, not just this weekend, but also when this is all over. Divorce is awful. No matter what the circumstances.’

  Kara’s heart sank. She tried not to wince. On the eve of their wedding Edwin wasn’t thinking of their marriage. Instead, he was planning for their separation and divorce.

  * * *

  As one soon-to-be extended family they walked down through the terraced gardens towards their waiting guests. Edwin could feel a headache coming on. They were a family in name at least, but, given the tensions that existed within both his and Kara’s families, using the term ‘family’ was probably an infringement of the Trade Descriptions Act.

  This morning he had had to spend way too long persuading Kara’s mother to join him on the return flight to Monrosa, telling her that Kara deserved her support even if she didn’t agree with her decision to marry him.

  That damned engagement kiss.

  It had thrown a curve ball into his life, as powerful as a cricket ball whacking him on the head, and had sent him into a month-long dazed existence.

  What had been supposed to be a staged kiss had transformed into a primal urge for more...more heat, more connection, more bodily contact.

  But the after-effects—seeing how upset Kara had been, the speculative calculation in his father’s eyes when they had gone back into the palace, hating his constant urge, even weeks later, to pick up that kiss where they had left off, the conjecture in some of the media that a royal baby was bound to soon make an appearance after such an inflamed public display of passion, the texted messages demanding to know what the hell he was playing at from his brothers...all had led to him withdrawing into himself.

  His behaviour was unsettling Kara. He had heard the disappointment in her voice every time he had called to cancel a planned trip to visit her in Brighton, and in more recent days, since her move to Monrosa, her attempts to appear unconcerned when he announced yet another long day of local meetings or another trip abroad.

  But the constant questioning of his succession and its impact on Monrosa, the knowledge he had not only dragged Kara into this marriage of convenience but was also in danger of wrecking their friendship irreparably by having senseless fantasies of kissing her—and okay, he’d admit it, those fantasies contained a lot more detail than just kissing her—was spooking him. Fantasies that would wipe out a decade’s history of a friendship built on trust and respect. As much as he wanted a more physical relationship with Kara, he knew taking that step would unravel a whole lot of emotions he was incapable of dealing with. He didn’t want to compromise their friendship and most important of all he didn’t want to hurt Kara. And right now he was trying to walk the exhausting and head-wrecking tightrope balance of not spending too much time with Kara while trying to continue to support her.

  Last night, he had arrived late to her dad’s hotel and she had bristled with irritation. But when her cousin Alice had sung a duet with her mother, Hilary, that irritation had melted away. The song had been upbeat and funny, the rest of the family howling with laughter, but despite Kara’s forced smiles he had seen her loneliness in witnessing Alice and Hilary’s close bond.

  Now, as he led the party down towards the waterfront, given Kara’s monosyllabic answers to his questions enquiring how everything was with her, he wasn’t certain that persuading her mother to attend the wedding was the best idea after all.

  Her hair was tied in a loose chignon, exposing her bare shoulders. A fragile chain hung around her neck. She was refusing to wear any jewellery from the royal collection and to date hadn’t given him a satisfactory reason why.

  As had become a recent habit of hers, her thumb was twisting her engagement ring around her finger. Why does she do that? Was it to remind herself of its presence? Did it annoy her? He had spent hours with a jeweller commissioning it, wanting to create a ring that was uniquely hers, that spoke of his admiration for her.

  Her make-up was soft and subtle, a sweep of mascara on her long lashes, shimmering pink on her lips, but there was a tension emanating from her that said she’d happily tear him limb from limb.

  They were only minutes away from their guests. He needed to sort out whatever was irritating her. Now. Before their guests picked up on it.

  Keeping his voice low, he leant in to her. ‘I thought you’d like having your mother here.’

  ‘Are you trying to offload me onto her?’

  Where had that come from?

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  She tilted her chin. ‘My mother told me you believe I’ll need her in the coming years—are you frightened I’ll go to pieces when our marriage is over? Is that why you went and fetched her this morning?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  She gave him a disbelieving look. ‘Then why did you?’

  ‘Because a mother should be at her daughter’s wedding. And I told your mother that you deserved her attention, not just for the wedding but all of the time.’

  She shook her head and as they approached their guests she placed her hand on his elbow, the smile on her mouth not reaching her eyes, ‘I’m going to pretend to believe you but I’ll tell you this much: I’m certainly not prepared to spend this mar
riage with you avoiding not only me but also your family. I’ve no idea what’s been bugging you recently but you need to get a grip before you turn into a grumpy emotional hermit.’ She paused and grimaced, and on a low sigh she leant even closer to him. ‘We both know the consequences of people shutting down.’ Bruised, pained eyes met his. ‘We have to learn from Michael...’

  She walked away from him towards her charity team. His skin tingled with shame and guilt. She was right, of course. Isolating yourself rarely did any good for normal people in normal circumstances, but in the craziness of this pretend marriage keeping a healthy emotional distance was going to protect them in the long run. Yes, there would be short-term pain, but the long-term gains would far outweigh them.

  Kara’s team embraced her with excited exclamations, bringing her into their fold, until she disappeared from view.

  Kara had insisted the garden party was to be an informal affair, much to the disquiet of his father’s advisors. But she had stood her ground against their arguments, firm that the party should be a relaxed afternoon where the guests got to wear casual clothes and to mingle informally in a bid to be as inclusive and accessible as possible for all those attending, without the pressures dictated by royal protocol.

  So without the necessity of formal introductions, his family filed away from him, his father approaching the President of the European Union, almost unrecognisable now in his short-sleeved shirt over linen trousers rather than his usual conservative suits. Luis went and greeted the US ambassador fondly, their old rivalry forgotten now that the ambassador had retired from powerboat racing. Ivo joined Princess Maria and Johan, who were in conversation with a young group of Monrosians all wearing the Monrosa Environmental Protection Agency T-shirts, the charity his mother had founded before her death.

  Not only was he getting things wrong with Kara but all of his intentions to force his family to be a tighter unit weren’t happening, thanks to the others’ uninterest and frankly his own lack of effort. On a number of occasions he had suggested they all meet, but he hadn’t pushed the issue when he only got excuses as to why they weren’t available in response, or, in Ivo’s case, no response at all.

  He could blame his workload. His office was tantalisingly close to attracting a major German bank to locate in Monrosa and he was having to lead the final negotiations. And on top of that, there was the management of the wedding and succession planning, diplomatic phone calls that had to be made to international leaders, and daily briefings with the cabinet alongside his father where he was trying to stamp his authority, much to the reluctance of his father’s loyalists. And his father’s belligerence wasn’t helping either.

  He had told Edwin he wanted him to take over the day-to-day decision-making in the run-up to the succession, but then proceeded to question every directive he made.

  So, yes, his workload was insane. But in truth he had been avoiding any personal interactions, even turning down Luis’s and friends’ attempts to persuade him to hold a bachelor party, needing time to get his head straight.

  Kara’s parents stood beside him, both glancing in the direction of her dad’s side of the family, who weren’t doing a particularly good job at hiding their surprise at Kara’s mother, Susan’s arrival. Kara’s mother coloured and she turned as if to join Kara and her team but pulled back when the group erupted in laughter. Kara’s father stepped towards her, gesturing towards his family. Kara’s mother gave a pained smile but, straightening her shoulders, followed him as he led her towards his extended family. Could this weekend be the start of a reconciliation between Kara’s parents? He sure hoped so. He was fed up with watching Kara’s family letting her down. If they reconciled their differences then maybe they would give her the support and love she deserved.

  He had thought Kara would be grateful to him for persuading her mother to come to Monrosa. But instead she had twisted his efforts to make it seem as though he had done so for reasons of pure self-interest. And as for Kara’s contention that he was heading towards being a grumpy hermit—how was that even possible when he spent almost every waking hour in the company of others?

  He stifled a groan.

  His old work colleague from London, Laurent Bonneval, carrying his baby son, Arthur in his arms, his beaming wife, Hannah, at his side, was making a beeline in his direction.

  After quick hugs, Laurent thrust Arthur into his arms, ignoring Hannah’s protests to be careful. Arthur gave him a toothy grin.

  Laurent chuckled. ‘After all the babies you must have held in the line of duty, I’d have thought you’d have mastered the art of holding one at this stage.’

  Laurent pushed against his arm, forcing him to relax and to allow Arthur’s tiny frame to curl against his chest. Arthur chortled and reached for his shirtfront, clinging to him. Edwin stared down at Arthur’s tiny hand gripping his shirt, a loneliness, a longing unravelling in his soul.

  ‘Kara, it’s so good to see you again.’

  His head jerked up at Laurent’s greeting.

  Kara hugged Laurent—they had met on several occasions in London before Laurent had returned to France to take over his family business in Cognac—and then shook Hannah’s hand when Laurent introduced his wife to her. Edwin had attended Laurent and Hannah’s wedding last year.

  ‘I always knew you two should be together,’ Laurent said, looking at them both with an expansive grin. He threw his arm around Hannah and kissed the top of her head. With a grin that was frankly a little sickening in its serenity he added, ‘I’m glad you’ve finally found your way to one another. Just like Hannah and myself after I almost messed everything up between us by breaking up with her and leaving London for France. It goes to prove that love will eventually win out, no matter how much we fight it!’

  * * *

  Three hours later, and an hour later than scheduled, Edwin marched back up to the palace, his family and Kara trailing behind him.

  At the Statue of Hera, he muttered a curse. His father and Princess Maria were still on the lower terrace, studying the wide swathe of agapanthus that grew there and from a distance resembled a stream of ice-blue water.

  Had his family lost all sense of urgency?

  Luis, idly climbing the wide steps of the terrace below, said something that had Ivo grin and Kara cover her mouth to hide a smile, before all three contemplated him and laughed once again.

  When they eventually joined him, Luis gave him a wink before he and Ivo continued their climb back up to the palace.

  Kara remained at his side and with a curious look she asked, ‘What’s the matter? Didn’t you enjoy the party?’

  ‘Three times I had to tell Luis it was time to leave.’ Edwin blew out an impatient breath. He had had to insist that his family and Kara leave the garden party so that the guests could be encouraged to make their way back to their hotels and homes. Ricardo, the Master of the Household, had personally pleaded with him to bring the party to a close, explaining he desperately needed his serving staff to prepare for tomorrow’s wedding banquet.

  Kara backed away from him, giving a shrug. ‘We were all enjoying ourselves.’

  Her eyes were sparkling, her skin glowing, her pleasure at the success of the party twisting inside him so much that he was desperately tempted to push her against the granite plinth of Hera and kiss her happiness, touch his fingertips against the tender skin where her dress skimmed across her breasts.

  Her breasts that swelled so perfectly.

  Dammit, for years he had successfully ignored them. Even the times when they had gone sailing together and his eyes would burn with the effort of not staring at her when she’d stripped off to reveal a testosterone-surging bikini.

  That kiss, and the fact that she was about to become his wife, were messing with his ability to see her as a friend only.

  In silence they walked up the steps and into the hall of mirrors, where his brothers were waiting for them.


  Luis was fixing his hair in the reflection of one of the mirrors. ‘Ivo and I are taking you out for a drink tonight.’

  Watching his father and aunt amble up the last set of steps to the palace, willing them to get a move on so that he could say his goodbyes to them, Edwin answered, ‘I have other plans.’

  Angling his head to better inspect his newly grown beard, Luis responded, ‘Well, change them. You can’t get married without some form of a bachelor party. Even if it’s not a real wedding.’

  Their father, now standing at the doorway from the terrace, growled, ‘At least Edwin understands the meaning of duty.’

  Luis cocked an eyebrow. ‘You more or less put a gun to his head. Edwin doesn’t want to marry. We all know that. You’ve given him a life sentence.’ Turning, he gave Kara one of his trademark cheeky smiles. ‘No offence, Kara, but you know what I mean.’

  Kara gave him a half-hearted smile.

  Right. He’d had enough. Luis’s constant rebuking and bickering with his father was one thing, but this was just plain offensive to Kara.

  ‘Cut it out, Luis.’

  Luis twisted around, his arms shifting outwards in question. ‘Are you seriously taking his side now?’

  Edwin looked from Luis to his father, both angling for an argument, and then to Ivo, who had turned his back on them all to stare out of the window in the direction of the harbour. Aunt Maria appeared from the terrace, cradling a bunch of purple irises in her arms, frowning as she picked up the tension in the air. It was time they all went their separate ways before things kicked off.

  He shifted towards the doorway. ‘I have work to do.’ Then, looking in Kara’s direction, taking in once again the sexy slope of her exposed shoulders, imagining his lips on her skin, imagining releasing her hair and coiling it around his fingers, imagining her wearing nothing but the pink sandals on her feet, he backed even further away, his body temperature surging. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow...at the cathedral. Enjoy your meal with your parents tonight.’