Chapter 9
LEAVING ON A JET PLANE
DUNCAN
London Daily Times
Of course, those critics are never satisfied. The best the Prince can hope is that he is redeemable. When asked what would cement his arc back to beloved son of Queen Natalie, Hayes was quick to give some boxes he could tick.
“I think he could get a nice girlfriend—unless he has one already—and properly propose to her. There are a multitude of sins a royal wedding could cover up right now. Even better if she is younger. We need a royal baby!”
Iwas head-down when my private secretary interrupted our checklist. I spotted John in the galley.
“Miss Mills has arrived, sir,” John said. “So, we're all here now.”
Finally, I thought. She was five minutes late but better than never.
“I'll go greet her,” I said. “Give me a second, Mitchell.”
“Sure, sir,” my first officer said.
I put my headset down and pressed back through the galley to find Miss Mills chatting with John like an old friend.
She had a beautiful smile. It was a bigger version of the meek grin she shot me the day before.
I wished she saved it for me. Instead, as soon as she spotted me, she got serious and bowed like her life depended on it.
She was American but her manners were impeccable. She was an enigma. What was her deal?
“Apologies, Your Royal Highness, for being late,” she said.
“Oh, no worries.”
“The train was delayed and they don't run consistently on Saturdays out of my station—”
“You took the train?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, confused.
“Next time, we will send a car,” I said. “Why did we not send a car, John?”
“Probably because Abi was supposed to pick me up, sir,” Miss Mills said. “But no worries. I'm here. And Abi is doing well along with baby Sally.”
“Oh Sally? A girl, then?” I asked. “That's wonderful. John, let us be sure to send her a gift basket—booze, some nice things for the babies, and chocolates maybe? Does she like chocolates?”
Miss Mills smiled a bit. “Oh, yes. But you don't have to—”
“I think bringing a life into the world deserves some proper booze and snacks, Miss Mills. Would you not agree?” I so badly wanted a wider grin.
“Oh, I won't disagree with you, sir.” Her eyes lit up a bit more.
“Fine, sir. We will do that. Perhaps pick something out while we are flying there,” John said.
Miss Mills nodded.
“Alright. Well, I'm about to see where we slot into the line here. Hopefully, we'll be off shortly,” I said. “I promise to inform you when we're going to taxi.”
“Wait, are you... flying the plane?” Miss Mills asked.
I chuckled. “Yes, Miss Mills. That was the implication.”
“Oh, cool,” she said.
I expected more. I had few cards to play. The pilot flex usually worked. It should have been a panty-dropper. She acted like she was just as happy to watch paint dry.
“Come with me,” I said. “Just a second. I'll introduce you to my first officer.”
“Oh... okay.”
She followed me to the cockpit.
“Miss Mills, this is Lieutenant Chris Mitchell. Mitchell, this is Miss Eloise Mills.”
She smiled at him the way I desperately wanted her to smile at me. Adorably, flustered. I wanted to smack him for flirting with her, but it wasn't his fault. She was pretty and had a lovely accent. No one would be dumb enough to throw her out of bed.
“Well, I should leave you to get to it... whatever it is?” Miss Mills said. “I am excited to see Wales.”
She bowed slightly and departed.
“Who is she?” Mitchell asked.
“My babysitter,” I answered.
“She could babysit me any time she wanted to!” Mitchell chuckled. “Let her know.”
I laughed. “Nah.”
“I don't want you to whinge about anything back at the mess. Because you're living in luxury and that sweet little thing is living with you, right?”
“She's got a cottage. And I'm not supposed to lay a finger on her.”
“I would struggle,” Mitchell said. “She's not your type, though.”
“What is my type, Mitchell?”
“Tall, thin. She's got more to hold onto than your average waif.”
“I much prefer it that way,” I admitted. “But society girls all seem to come in the same rail-thin package. She's fun, right?”
“Brilliant. I want you to behave yourself, but for now, I don't mind her being our minder, sir.”
The tower chimed in and we returned to the task before us. Time to focus.