Scandal Queen (Tabloid Princess Book 2)

by Anna Bloom

  “It might not be that bad.”

  Molly laughed. “Sure, sure. Okay, I’d better tell Patrick we’ve changed plans.”

  “Thanks, Molly. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Well you wouldn’t have a royal boyfriend that’s for sure. If I’d left you in that awful outfit that day he’d never have given you the time of day.”

  I chuckled. “I like to think it was due to more than a push-up bra.”

  “And you see, that, my friend, is where you go wrong.” She gasped loudly. “Oh my god! Who is going to dress you now? People are going to see you everywhere.”

  “They might not.” I cringed, watching my own reflection in the glass of a cupboard door. “We are going to try to stay private.”

  Molly howled, taking about three minutes to stop. “Oh my god, you are so funny. I need to go and stitch my sides back together.”

  “Bitch.”

  “Best bitch.”

  I hung up smiling a little, while also utterly shitting myself. She was right. So right.

  Six

  How right Molly was, came with startling reality.

  The doorbell rang. Groaning, I rolled over and threw my arm over my head. “If that’s Louise with breakfast again we are going to have to thank her but tell her we are starting a healthy eating regime,” I grumbled.

  “It will be Bill.” The room hadn’t brightened yet. “He’s not happy with being made to stay in the pub overnight.”

  I lifted onto my elbows to look at Oliver. “It would be weird having him in here at night. This place is not soundproofed.”

  He still had his eyes shut, but he smiled, all sleepy and sexy. Daisy would be awake soon… Not that soon…

  The doorbell went again.

  “I’ll go and let him in and put the kettle on.”

  “Leia.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me back until I pressed against his warm chest. His lips sought mine and for a moment I forgot all about doorbells, cups of tea, and even what planet I lived on. His kiss had the power to make me forget everything. Even my own name. Until the doorbell rang again.

  “You know. If we are still staying a few more days, we should get him a key cut. He’s going to wake the whole street at this rate.”

  I slipped out of bed, almost mourning the heat of his body before I’d even left the room.

  The stairs were dark, and I gave myself a mental high five that I hadn’t tripped and broken my leg; these things were a daily achievement.

  “Bill, for goodness’ sake.” I swung the door back and stared almost stupidly into the flash of a camera.

  “Leia. Where’s Oliver?” A man who looked like he’d been up all night thrust a phone into my face. Startled, I lifted my gaze over his head to where more people than I’d seen all week were crowded around.

  I pushed at the door, my heart pounding in my chest. Once the lock had caught in the latch, I leant against it, but the front door didn’t stop the questions. They shouted through, loud enough to wake the whole of the South West.

  What do the palace think?

  Why had Oliver denied the romance?

  Did the King and Queen approve?

  Had I forgiven the prince’s lies?

  My fingers shook, my legs wobbling.

  “For fuck’s sake!” I jumped out of my skin at Oliver’s voice behind me. Hearing him swear made it very real; the future king didn’t often lapse into profanities. “Someone at the pub must have sold us out.”

  Frozen, I couldn’t get myself to move.

  Lights flashed outside; I could see them through the small glazed pane in the centre of the wooden door. The sound of doors slamming echoed. A herd of journalists seemed to be stampeding on the small village. Daisy bolted down the stairs, slipping with her pace. “What’s going on?”

  Oliver pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. If I hadn’t been in a shocked stupor, I would have mind-snapped the moment to keep forever. “It’s just the press, sweetie, we will get out of here soon.” Him calling her the same nickname I’d always used kickstarted me a little.

  “How do we get out of here?” I asked. “There are hundreds of them. They must have travelled all night to get here.

  “Bill will get through don’t worry.” Oliver scrunched his face. “I’ve been foolish thinking we could stay here like this.”

  I reached for his arm. “No. We were fine; everything’s been fine.”

  His dark gaze flickered over my face. “Nothing is ever fine for long. I’ve left us exposed.”

  “So where do we go now? Aren’t they always going to find us?”

  “Mummy, we need to go home.” Daisy pulled at my attention. “Nana will be waiting for us.”

  Why, oh why, oh why, did I always leave important conversations to the last moment? I needed to work on this as a life skill.

  “Sweetie…”

  Oliver placed a hand on my back, soothing a circle with his palm. “Let’s get out of here shall we, then we can find Nana,” he spoke for me.

  At that moment a different knock fell against the door. One Oliver recognised because he visibly relaxed. He opened the door, tucking Daisy and I behind his back as he used the door almost as a shield. Bill strode in like a cowboy in the Wild West.

  “I’m just going to say it once, Sir.”

  Oliver smiled but held up his hand. “It’s okay, I’ve said it to myself.”

  I watched the exchange between the two men. The high esteem Oliver held Bill in showed more of the prince’s personality.

  “Okay. I’ve arranged for you to fly back to London from Newquay. There’s a plane waiting that will take you to City Airport.”

  “Fly?” I asked. That was not how we’d arrived.

  Bill turned, but he had his professional and deadly serious expression on. “It’s safer, Ma’am. The press wouldn’t be able to follow you all the way in the car, but it might make the journey hazardous.”

  “I’m scared.” Daisy jumped as another bang landed at the door and I glanced up at Oliver. Suddenly his outrageous act of paying for secrecy, for putting a restraining order around my house made a lot more sense.

  A lot more.

  My world, my understanding of it tilted again, like it frequently did when I was with him. He changed my perception of everything. Even down to simple things like who I was.

  Oliver bent down and for the first time in the ten minutes since this had all started, I noticed he only wore jeans—that’s how scary the hounding press were.

  “We’ll be home soon, and I promise, Daisy, there is nothing they can do to get to us. Bill is here to be our guardian.”

  I reached for Daisy’s hand, while Bill conferred with Oliver using hushed tones that made my stomach turn. When Bill turned his attention back to me, he smiled. “How quick can you pack, Ma’am?”

  “Uh. In about thirty seconds.” I shrugged.

  “That sounds about perfect. If you may.” He gestured towards the rest of the house where our small belongings lay scattered.

  He wasn’t joking, I could tell. Thirty seconds and we’d have to be on our way.

  I dashed for the stairs pulling Daisy after me. There was no way we were leaving those magazines.

  “I can’t believe you are scared of flying.” Oliver nudged my shoulder and I ducked my head, hiding my face from the interested glances of the female flight crew. They were all stunning and about six feet tall. Most of them, if they turned sideways, all but disappeared.

  “Maybe because I’ve never flown before?” I pulled a well duh face which made him chuckle.

  “Daisy likes it, don’t you?”

  She nodded, but her eyelids were drooping. We hadn’t even been on the road that long. My abrupt wake-up call by the national press had only been a couple of hours ago. The flight from Cornwall to London happened to be significantly shorter than my drive down in the back of Patrick’s car.

  “You do realise that tomorrow my pyjamas are going to be on the front page of The Su
n?”

  He had the nerve to grin. “Private, not secret.”

  “Right.”

  “Anyway, we are about to land. Do you need to hold my hand?”

  “Nope.” The small plane dropped what felt like hundreds of feet and a strange clanging noise came from below our plush seats. “Yes please.” I grasped his fingers tight and Daisy giggled. I stuck my tongue out at her. “Just so everyone knows, in case we die, this was all worth it.”

  Oliver chuckled again, the motion rocking us together and he switched his phone off with his free hand. “It’s just the wheels coming down for landing. Don’t panic. Wheels are good in this situation I can assure you.”

  To distract myself from becoming a splatter on a runway, I nodded to his phone. “Who’ve you been texting?”

  “Freya. She’s meeting us with a car and has a security debrief for us.”

  I held in my groan. “That’s nice.”

  He raised a dark eyebrow, his lips quirking. “Nice?”

  “Well, you know.”

  “It’s her job, Leia. She’s staff; trusted staff. It’s her job to make sure I’m where I’m supposed to be and when. Once everything is settled it will be her job to make sure you are where you are supposed to be and when.”

  I bit my tongue. Over my dead bloody body. The plane dipped again, and I took back my thought. I’ll be nice to Freya, if we live, I threw up into the air.

  My face must have been highly amusing because Oliver’s lips twitched, and he worked to school his features as one of the air stewardesses on the private plane sashayed over to us. “Your Highness.” She looked like she was desperate to curtsey, but her tight skirt wouldn’t allow it. “If you could please fasten your seat belt, we are due to land in fifteen minutes.”

  “Thank you, Sarah.”

  Say what! He knew the hostess’ name in person?

  I scanned her navy uniform, just to check my reactions hadn’t spiralled from zero to one hundred in two seconds, but there wasn’t a name badge.

  Well.

  I did my own seatbelt up and folded my arms. He shook his head, that damn smile teasing his lips, and pulled Daisy’s bag between his feet.

  I glared out of the window and watched London zoom into view; the city I didn’t think I would be coming back to for a while. Now I was returning in a private jet with a prince at my side.

  A car waited for us on the tarmac. We didn’t even have to step foot in the airport. Daisy had fallen asleep while the plane did an extra aerial circuit of London. Oliver had frowned and tutted at that point. It seemed royalty didn’t like to be stuck in an air traffic control queue.

  He carried Daisy straight down the steps of the plane and into the waiting black Mercedes people carrier. It seemed excessive, but then when I slid into the luxurious confines of the vehicle, I remembered about Freya waiting for us; now all the seats made sense.

  “Your Highness.” She curtsied to which he nodded briefly before he turned to slide Daisy into the seat next to where I sat. Her head fell on my shoulder as he clipped in her safety belt. “Miss Lawrence,” Freya added in my direction.

  Freya seemed the epitome of cool, calm, and collected. Her dark hair twisted into a neat chignon and she had on a navy shift dress and matching court shoes. Did the woman ever dress down? That was the question. I glanced at my own jeans and the hoodie of Oliver’s I’d pulled on in a rush. Huh, I bet she hadn’t been woken up by the press knocking at her door. I had my reasons for looking like I’d flown through a hurricane and I’d be sticking to them.

  “I’ve called Mrs Lawrence. She will meet us at your apartments at the palace.”

  For a moment I didn’t realise who she was talking about. “Nana?” I asked eventually once my brain started working.

  The car pulled off and I turned to glance out of the window at the plane. Another car followed ours and I assumed Bill must be in it.

  Oliver lowered his voice, his fingers squeezing mine as he spoke directly to me. “I asked Freya to get in touch with Nana. We will be in meetings when we get back and I assumed you’d want someone Daisy knew to look after her.”

  I stared at him wordlessly. “You could have asked me. I would have contacted Nana.” I don’t know why but my stomach twisted like I’d eaten something not quite right. “And what meetings?”

  Freya dug her phone out of her bag and clicked her long red nails across the screen before handing it over to Oliver. He reached out with his free hand while his other still remained woven into mine. “Just as I thought.” A smile twitched his lips. “Those pyjamas look sensational.”

  I gasped and grabbed the phone from him. “No! That’s not fair. I’ve got my mouth open. I look gormless.”

  Oliver chuckled but Freya’s icy resting bitch face didn’t melt.

  I stared at the screen. Some gossip site had a picture from just hours ago along with a headline: Prince Ollie’s secret affair not over.

  They weren’t going to win awards for cutting edge journalism.

  “What happens now?” The car moved quickly through the streets. People turned to look, peering through the dark glass as it cruised through the city.

  “Now we go home.”

  “To Bermondsey?” I nodded. I’d be happy there. Daisy knew the warehouse conversion, she’d been there before. We could lie low while we finalised plans on how to get her back to school. My mind ran over the things I’d need to do. I’d have to call her ballet teacher and cancel her Saturday lessons—such things seemed almost insignificant. I wondered if anyone else would give the homeless guy on the high street a sausage roll if I wasn’t going to do it anymore.

  I nearly didn’t hear Oliver’s response.

  “The palace, Leia. It’s my official address in London, and we will need to be seen in the right place at the right time.”

  “But…” He couldn’t mean for Daisy and me to stay at St Mark’s with him… I mean come on, that was ludicrous… that’s where the royals lived.

  The life defining moment struck me like a thunderbolt. The moment I realised I’d fallen in love with a prince. Not just any prince; not some foreign, European poor excuse for one, but I’d fallen in love with the heir to the throne. Heir to the British monarchy in a country where everyone loved The King, and every excuse for a street party covered the land in red, white, and blue, and people sang God Save the King at every major sporting event.

  Oh. Holy shit.

  Suddenly everything became achingly real.

  I leant my head against Daisy’s and closed my eyes. I didn’t want him to see my panic.

  “I’ve spoken to Marcus.” Freya’s cut glass accent punctured into my spiralling zen zone. “He’s preparing a statement on behalf of the family.”

  I felt Oliver nod next to me. “Excellent.” His tone barked drily.

  “Although I think he’s going to fight us on it. He says next year would be better.”

  “Does he indeed.” He paused.

  “Really, Your Highness, I don’t know why you couldn’t have lay low for a few weeks like you were asked.”

  I opened one eye. Was the professional and perfect Freya Cole chastising the prince?

  To my surprise he laughed. He leant over towards me. I quickly shut my eyes, as he placed a kiss on my temple. “Some things can’t be put on hold.”

  Maybe they thought I’d fallen asleep. Maybe they assumed I’d slipped into a shocked coma—it could happen—but they carried on talking. “Does she even know what’s about to happen? Everything is going to change for her.”

  “She knows,” he replied, but hesitation ran beneath his words.

  “Oh and just to warn you, your attire during your grovel-to-the-public interview has not gone unnoticed.”

  The car slowed to a halt. I couldn’t open my eyes. Gravel crunched under the tyres.

  “I’m in trouble for wearing jeans in public now as well, am I?” He laughed but it lacked humour.

  “I’d be grateful for small mercies.”

 
“Freya. Relax, this is all what it’s meant to be.” He sounded confident, his voice now ringing with utter certainty, the clear toll of a bell.

  She didn’t answer. A door slammed. I’d have to pretend to wake up any moment. I didn’t want to be carried into St Mark’s Palace. My arrival, even upright and on foot, would cause enough of a stir.

  “Freya. Before we go in. She’s going to need staff; can I trust you to help?”

  I actually sicked in my mouth. Staff?

  “I could take offence at your comment, but I won’t. Small household?”

  “Yes. We shall be doing most things together.”

  “If you’re allowed.” She snorted and I wanted to punch her for being so intimate with my man. Even if he wasn’t just mine and actually belonged to every person on the whole bloody planet.

  “We will be allowed.” That golden glow of conviction rang through his words again and it weaved itself into me, through the tight knots of worry and stress, through the concerns which centred around, ‘what the fuck am I doing?’. It spoke straight to my heart. Deep inside.

  My eyes snapped open and I blinked into Oliver’s green gaze. “Good sleep, my love?”

  “Very restful.” I smiled at him and gave Daisy a little nudge. If I wasn’t going to be carried, and could walk in with my head held high, the woman the prince chose, then I was sure as hell going to make sure my daughter did it with me.

  Oliver smiled and we held a long look. “Welcome home, Miss Lawrence.” He winked.

  “Why, thank you, Your Royal Highness.”

  He grinned and I smiled like a dick, while behind us Freya tutted and rustled the papers on her lap.

  I stepped out of the car and stretched myself tall. So I wore jeans and an oversized hoodie; I’d been photographed in my pyjamas so the whole world would see them and probably discuss my love of Tweetie Pie.

  I stared at St Mark’s, the pale stone still glowed despite the grey sky.

  Home.

  He kissed under my ear and took my hand. “Just remember that I love you very much, and please, please, no matter what happens, don’t run away.” He shot me a sheepish smile.

  “I’ll try not to.”