Chapter 17
A DELICATE SITUATION
DUNCAN
London Daily Times
Leo Hayes, our Royal Correspondent, believes that the Queen intends to send a message with her Christmas broadcast tomorrow.
The Queen usually addresses new arrivals in her speeches, so no doubt little Vanora Lyons-Lennon will get a mention.
The child has quickly become the Queen's favorite person.
Prince Keir's new child, Olav, is also expected to get a nod.
The baby was born several months ago but hasn't made a public appearance, as the British spare and his wife tend to be quite protective of sharing their brood with the press.
When asked if the Queen truly has favorites among the youngsters, Leo was clear.
“Her Majesty does have favorites just like any parent.
She cannot come out and say so. She and Prince Keir have always been incredibly close.
He was her heir for many years before the arrival of The Prince of Wales.
So, it would make sense she'd want to spend the time spoiling his new arrival.
However, don't underestimate the Leah Roughy affect.
Together, The Queen has always been mad about her kids.
She doesn't have any of her own grandchildren, so what is she to do?”
Well, you've heard it. Royals... they're just like us. Still getting nagged about having kids around the dinner table.
“Oh fuck!”
We stepped into the cottage bedroom to see a river.
Water sprayed everywhere from the bathroom as I stood stock still, unsure of what to do.
Around me, Miss Mills raced, attempting to stop the water from shooting out of the pipe, hitting the stone wall, and filtering into the dresser.
It was like a marble run but with freezing cold water.
It was a real-life physics game, but Miss Mills was understandably unamused.
“I'm going to go fix this,” she said.
“I can help—”
“I got it,” she said, sounding assured.
I sat the lantern atop the dresser and checked if she had anything dry.
Most of it was hopeless. The dresser felt spongey.
I suspected almost everything—including the baseboards—would need to be replaced.
I realized what I was fumbling through. It was lingerie.
And not just a bit but a massive collection of the stuff.
I was fascinated. I held up a pair of knickers, barely able to see them in the lamp light, marveling at what I knew they would not cover.
To my sheer dismay, Miss Mills rushed back in to see me holding them.
“Your... Your Royal Highness—”
“Uh, I am sorry. Your stuff was soaked. I was trying to be helpful.” I lied.
I was... at first. Now I was just being nosey and wondering how her arse would look in these.
“You're holding my panties. That's not helpful! Do you always file through a lady's undergarments?”
“I thought these were just... clothes?”
“My clothes are in the wardrobe.”
“So this is... all... underthings?”
She glared. “What is it to you?”
“It's an impressive collection. Can I not admire it? I've met lingerie models with less impressive stashes.”
“Are you always so inappropriate?” I had worked her up—and not in a good way.
“No,” I answered. “Well, hopefully not.”
“Then put them down. Water is off.”
“How?”
“I found the main to the cottage and shut it off. With no water, it cannot flood more.”
“Oh, brilliant idea.”
“I do need clothes but... I need to figure out some other stuff first.”
“You're literally under water, so yes.”
“I have reusable bags in the kitchen. Start pulling out things for dinner. The lamb, butter, milk, herbs, veggies, and then grab the potatoes from near the sink.”
I nodded. “And your clothes?”
“Stop fussing about my clothes, sir. I have luggage in my wardrobe.”
“Ah. Alright. Can you do me a favor?”
She crossed her arms. I'd done it again.
“I would really prefer if you would just call me Duncan, Miss Mills. It gets so awkward to have you call me ‘your royal highness’ or ‘sir’.”
“I will think on it.”
Thinking on it was better than no. I acquiesced, packing what I thought could make a meal.
She could return. The entire place was frozen anyway.
I now had every excuse to make a move and every opportunity to impress her.
Instead, she bailed herself out while I played with her knickers.
I could kick myself. I'd been charming in a past life, hadn't I? Couldn't I make it work now?