The Princess Pose: The Modern Royals Series

by Ellis, Aven

  “I was here at the house for a tea last month celebrating caregivers,” Jillian explains. “My husband passed away from Alzheimer’s years ago.”

  Clive’s eyes widen. “My wife did as well.”

  I watch this exchange with interest. I steal a glance at Roman, who seems to be studying the interaction between Jillian and his grandfather as much as I am.

  “So you understand,” Jillian says, her eyes bright in acknowledgement.

  “I do,” Clive replies, nodding.

  There’s a brief pause as they stare at each other, and I know we have all faded away in their awareness.

  Clive clears his throat. “Have you seen the gardens here, Jillian? I’m slowly shifting into retirement, and Roman has done an amazing job taking over much of the planning and design. His culinary garden is a masterpiece.”

  I don’t even need to look at Roman to know he’s flushed from the compliment.

  “No, I haven’t, but I’d love to see that,” Jillian says. “Whenever you have time. I don’t want to impose if you are working.”

  “No, I’m nearly done. Easing into retirement means I can have Roman pick up the slack.”

  Roman grins and shakes his head, and Jillian turns to me. Before she can say anything, I beat her to the punch. “Enjoy the tour,” I encourage. “Jess and I will be in the café.”

  Jillian gives me a warm smile, and I think she’s eager to get to know Clive better.

  “Let me take you to a place where you can put your bag,” Clive says. “Then, after I wash my hands, I’ll show you the winter garden.”

  As they head off down the path, I turn to Roman. “Your grandfather is smooth,” I tease. “Tour of the garden?”

  “Says the woman who took a yoga class with a mission to find me,” Roman counters.

  Jess is watching with a furrowed brow. I didn’t intend to discuss Roman in public, but now I must. I decide I will take my chances and confide in her.

  “I’m seeing Roman,” I say quietly.

  “Oh,” she says.

  “We’re keeping it under the radar for now,” I continue, keeping my voice down. “I ask that this stays between us, and we not talk about it further until we are alone.”

  “I completely understand,” Jess says. “I will keep this a secret.”

  I feel Roman’s gaze on me, and I glance at him. He’s studying me with a furrowed brow, and I don’t understand what the look is for. He has to know why I want to keep us under wraps.

  He clears his throat, and the dynamic between us has shifted. He stands straight up, almost rigid now, in opposition to the easy way he normally carries himself, and there’s no smile on his face. I don’t like the unsettled feeling coming over me, and I want to pull him aside and reassure him as to why I want to be secretive about us.

  “I should get back to work,” Roman says abruptly.

  My chest draws tight. He’s obviously hurt by how I explained us to Jess. But if I pull him aside to talk to him now, the longer I’m seen in public with him, the more opportunity there is for pictures of us to show up on social media.

  “Okay,” I say softly. “I’ll see you tonight.” Roman is going to spend the night over at my place.

  “Yeah,” he says simply. “I’ll see you.”

  I shoot him a pleading expression with my eyes.

  Roman, you know me. You have to know I’m not hiding you for any other reason than to protect what we have.

  “Jess, it was a pleasure meeting you,” he says.

  “Likewise, Roman,” she replies, nodding.

  “Enjoy the café. I recommend the pumpkin pasta with fresh sage oil.”

  Then Roman turns and walks away.

  If I were a normal woman, I would stop him. I’d tell him to hold up because we’re talking this out, right here, right now. I wouldn’t care who saw or snapped a pic or gossiped about it. I’d tell him why I did what I did and that he might not like it, but it was done for him. For us.

  But I’m not a normal woman.

  I’m Princess Elizabeth of York, who can’t be seen talking to a man alone for even a minute without it showing up somewhere. There will already be pictures of me from the yoga class as soon as it’s over. I can’t even imagine the glee of the tabloids if they found out I not only have a man, but one who is a gardener. While, to a lot of the public, this is nothing, to those in the inner circles of the monarchy, it is unheard of. There’d be whispers about how Roman would fit and how I should have dated up. All crap, all rubbish, all ancient in thinking.

  I will be the one to break this ceiling, I vow.

  But this will take time. Roman will need to adjust to this world. I want our love to grow and deepen first. He must be ready for how his life will change. His feelings for me have to be strong and secure before we go public, because if they aren’t as strong as mine, he could decide I’m not worth it.

  With a gut punch, I realise it could be like Dad with Mum.

  His feelings could change.

  It’s getting harder to breathe as I watch Roman fade from view and come face to face with my deepest fear: that he could grow disappointed with me, the constraints of my life, and his feelings could change.

  With Antonia lurking about, being exposed right now will be a thousand times worse. Roman’s the perfect tool for her to use to destroy me. If I’m to protect him, to protect what I love, I can’t be normal.

  I have to be a princess.

  And for the first time in my life, I hate who I am.

  Chapter 22

  Being Cross

  By the time I get back home, an edginess takes over that won’t resolve itself until I can explain my actions to Roman. I sigh heavily as I slip out of my jacket, hanging it up in the cupboard. Tea followed by lunch with Jess was fine, despite my worry over what Roman was thinking. If one thing being a royal has taught me, it’s that I can compartmentalise my feelings and expressions so nobody knows if I’m bored. Irritated. Anxious.

  Or upset.

  Putting my emotions aside, I did enjoy Jess’s company today. She’s an interesting person, who has the same passion for working with children as I do. She told me about her days teaching at a nursery school, and I loved hearing her inside stories and struggles, mentally taking notes to see if there was anything I could help with on a larger scale. She’s single, twenty-three, fluent in Cantonese, and emigrated with her family from Hong Kong to London when she was four. As an only child, she is bombarded with weekly checks to see who she is dating and if she will ever get married, and Jess was so funny and dry about it, I couldn’t help but laugh. My instincts were right. She is someone I’d like to become better friends with.

  I didn’t see Jillian for the rest of the day, but I did get a text during lunch that made me smile. I retrieve my phone and read it again:

  Isn’t Clive GORGEOUS? We’re going to lunch. I’ll see if there’s depth to this silver fox like I hope there is.

  I already know the answer to that.

  If Clive is anything like Roman, the next text will be to tell me she’s smitten with him.

  I tap my phone to my chin and sink down onto the sofa, gazing at my wonderfully beautiful Christmas tree, given to me by the man who has my heart in his hands. The heaviness I had shoved away returns as I think of Roman. If it were anyone else, I’d text him a message about what happened, but he has always made it clear he would rather FaceTime or hear my voice. I’m sure this sentiment is stronger when he’s hurt.

  I glance down at the time. Roman won’t be finished for hours yet, but I can’t imagine him working that whole time and thinking I was keeping him a secret for any reason other than to shield him. I decide to leave him a voicemail. I sort out the thoughts in my head first; then I call his number, waiting for his greeting to come on.

  “Hello?” Roman says suddenly.

  I gasp in shock. “You… you aren’t working?”

  “Were you hoping to get my voicemail, Liz? Would that make things easier for you?”


  Liz.

  If I didn’t know he was angry by the edge in his voice, I surely know it now by him choosing to call me Liz. It makes me angry.

  “Roman, I know you’re cross with me, but you are leaping to all kinds of conclusions that you shouldn’t. I was calling because I know you prefer to hear my voice rather than receive a text. I also know you’re working, and I didn’t want to wait until tonight to explain things to you.”

  “Explain things,” Roman repeats. “Why? Because I’m stupid? I’m not from a posh circle so I can’t possibly understand that you’re embarrassed of me? Was being in public with me the reality check? You made that abundantly clear by not standing within five feet of me on the path, Liz, and by telling Jess to keep me a secret, like I was something dirty you didn’t want people to know your gloved princess hands have touched. After all I’ve said and shared with you, you treat me like that? That was humiliating, Liz. And yes, I’m angry. I’m not something for you to dabble in while you figure out how to date. I won’t be your walk on the normal side. I won’t be embarrassed like this.”

  Ooh! I’m furious now.

  And I let him have it.

  “You are an idiot,” I say through gritted teeth. “I adore you. I’ve never cared about anyone in the way I do you, which is insane after a week and should utterly terrify me, but it doesn’t.

  “What does terrify me,” I continue, my voice shaking, “is that you think I could ever be embarrassed of you. You know me. At least I thought you did. You know me better than anyone, and if you think that I was doing anything other than protecting you, then I question what we’re doing.”

  “Protecting me? What are you talking about? This is about you.”

  “No. I was protecting you. The press came out with a bunch of horrible headlines about me today. Antonia has launched her attack, and she’s made it out that I am a wretched cow who is jealous of Clementine. I’m the monster on social media, and if she knew anything about you, saw one picture, got one tidbit off social media that her minions could find, she would make your life hell, Roman. She’d take away your privacy. You’d be stalked, and slapped on headlines making fun of you like they do me. You’ve only been with me for a week; do you know how utterly scared I am that this would drive you away, and you’d find someone normal? Do you?” I shout at him.

  I hear Roman suck in his breath on the other end of the line.

  “You don’t,” I say, my voice shaking. “So, yes, I kept my distance, and I didn’t make a big deal out of us while people and their phones were around. And as much as I wanted to stop you from walking away and explain everything, I couldn’t do any of that without the fear of being recognised and bringing you into this world without any preparation. My actions had nothing to do with me. It was about you. You don’t know this world. You don’t know how hellish it can be. I was hoping you’d be committed to me and in love with me before I dragged you into it.”

  All I can hear is silence.

  “Lizzie,” he finally says, his voice thick. “I—”

  “No, you said what you thought in that outburst,” I say. “I don’t need to hear any more about how I’m ashamed of you, or toying with you. Nothing could be further from the truth. The fact that you thought, even for a second, that I was playing with you, after everything I’ve said to you, makes you someone I don’t wish to speak to.”

  Then I hang up.

  My phone immediately rings back, and I throw it down on the sofa in anger. I’m bubbling up inside, and I need to walk, to clear my head, to hear something other than Roman hurtling out those accusations at me.

  I don’t even grab my coat before I fling open the door. Then, I stop, stunned at who is coming up the path.

  It’s Xander.

  I haven’t seen him for weeks, and now here he is, bundled up in a cashmere jumper, scarf, and jeans, with his dark hair blowing in the breeze. He’s giving me the brilliant, perfect smile that has charmed women around the world, but it fades the second his deep blue eyes lock on my face.

  “Liz, are you all right?” Xander asks quickly, moving up the path to me. “No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”

  The anger that was overflowing abruptly stops with his concern. His observation and attention remind me of how Roman acted towards me.

  When he thought I was real.

  Before he thought I was a princess merely taking a spin with a man outside my gilded walls.

  Hurt fills my heart. My eyes swim with tears, and before I know it, Xander has his hands on my arms, holding me tight.

  “Liz, what is it? Talk to me,” he pleads.

  I stare at the older brother of my heart, the one who chose India because she understands his life. I never thought he could be right about that, but now I’m not sure.

  But the second I think it, I know I’m wrong to doubt myself. Roman is the man for me. Hard-working, sensitive, strong Roman. Like Christian, I don’t want easy. I want true love. But what I thought I found with Roman isn’t what Christian has with Clementine. She never doubted his sincerity.

  With my anger stripped away, the harsh reality of this fight slams into me. For Roman to doubt my heart, when he’s the only man who has ever held it, tells me all I need to know.

  He is the man I love, yes, but he doesn’t even know me, let alone love me.

  And as I understand this, there’s only one thing to do.

  I collapse against Xander and burst into tears.

  Chapter 23

  Kicking the Door Down

  Xander doesn’t say anything. I cry into his jumper, the soft fabric caressing my cheek, which reminds me again of Roman, and I wish it were him I was clinging to instead of Xander. A sob escapes my throat. He remains still for a few moments before speaking.

  “Let’s go into the cottage,” he says firmly. Like the military man he is, Xander doesn’t wait for my response but takes action, guiding me into the house. He leads me to the sofa and instructs me to sit. “I’ll bring you some tea.”

  I’m too upset to protest that I don’t want tea, so I let him do it. I hear him rattling around in the kitchen, opening various cupboards, retrieving items, and running water. Within minutes, he has returned with a mug, which he places in my hands.

  “Drink,” he commands, sinking down onto the sofa next to me.

  I do as I’m told, letting the hot liquid slide down my throat, but it gives no comfort.

  “Liz, what’s happened? Did you and Roman have a row?” he asks, his blue eyes searching my face for clues.

  With a shaking hand, I put the mug on the coffee table. “He thinks I’m ashamed of him,” I whisper, reliving the words he flung at me over the phone, “because I wouldn’t acknowledge him in public.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  My attention snaps back to Xander. “What?”

  “Tell me why you didn’t acknowledge him.”

  I feel my chest grow tight. “Xander, we’ve only been seeing each other for a week. I want to protect him as long as I can from this world. You see what the press is doing to me right now. What do you think they would do if they found out I was seeing a gardener? They would have a field day with stupid headlines and stories all designed to humiliate him.”

  “But this is your world, Liz,” he says simply. “Roman knew that from the day he asked you to come to dinner.”

  “Roman doesn’t understand what that truly means,” I say. “We do, because our first moment in the public spotlight was when we were on the steps of the hospital ward as infants. It’s all we’ve known. Roman understands there will be attention and things written about him, but he doesn’t know how that will actually feel. His life will change because of who I am.”

  “Liz, this isn’t your choice to make,” Xander says gently. “It’s Roman’s. You can’t keep him hidden forever, because that’s not your life. All the publicity and social media write-ups are your life.”

  A solitary tear escapes my eye. “What if he changes his mind about me?” I ask, reaching up
to wipe it away. “This institution is hard to live in. You know that.”

  “Which is why I’m seeing India. She knows this life. Mum adores her. She’s well-versed in society and knows the work she would undertake in this world. India,” he says with resolution, “can handle this.”

  “You realise what’s missing from that comment, don’t you, Xander?”

  He blinks. “What?”

  “Love,” I say. “Do you love her?”

  “We’ve just started seeing each other,” Xander says. “It takes time for that.”

  “Sometimes,” I say. “But when you talk about her, there’s no spark. You don’t light up, not like a man who is happy or who is falling in love.”

  Xander rakes a hand through his hair. “We both know that’s not an option for me.”

  “Why do you say that?” I cry, terrified that he is thinking this way. I’d rather have Xander the Philander back than this man, who is convinced he has to live his life without love.

  “You’re worried about Roman, but Liz, your path is different to mine. Yes, you will have attention, but the light on Roman will fade, and it will never be as bright as one put on the future queen.”

  “You are telling me about love and saying Roman should have the right to make that choice, yet you won’t allow your heart the same option?”

  Xander turns back towards me. “No.”

  “Xander, don’t do this,” I say, shaking my head. “You cannot. You deserve to be in love with someone who loves you.”

  He gives me a sad smile “That’s the problem. Everyone wants the Prince of Wales. Women think they know me. They love me before they even see me in person.”

  “And India’s different?”

  “No. I can see it in her eyes. She thinks she loves me, but she loves the monarchy. And that’s going to have to be enough.”

  “Do you hear yourself?” I say, leaping off the sofa in anger. “Do you? Because you are being a fool.”

  Xander’s eyes widen in surprise.