Chapter 29
TAKING FLIGHT
DUNCAN
London Daily Times
Prince Duncan thought he outsmarted the press by landing back in London unannounced.
Still, his cheeky attempt was thwarted as crowds gathered at London City to greet him.
We know for the past few days he was stuck at RAF Valley on a more than twenty-four assignment in the air station's tower, but nothing more.
Royal Correspondent Leo Hayes asks, “Will he be back on business or is this just an excuse to go out and party?”
Indeed. Only time will tell.
Ileft for London in a good mood—and not just because I realized Ella wears short little nightgowns to bed every night.
That was delightful news, but not the important bit.
John told me when volume slowed in a couple of weeks, I may be able to taper off shifts at Valley—depending on what happened with the documentary—and that I might have a new assignment soon.
Those words came from my mother in an early morning call.
So, as we landed in London, I had reasons to be cheerful. My arrival was eventful. I hadn’t given the press a heads up, but they tracked my plane coming out of Valley and were waiting for us at City like it was their job.
“How did they know?” Sweet Ella asked as if born yesterday.
“They track my plane’s tail number. It’s a competition among a group of people online,” I answered.
At least she was along with me for this thing, right? And while I wanted to spend time mooning over her, I couldn’t.
When we arrived back at the Palace, we went our own ways. Eloise went with Lucy to talk strategy. I stuck around to talk to Mum and Dad.
Dad put his paper down as I entered the dining room and met me with a signature bear hug.
Apparently, things were getting better for me.
Even as a man of nearly forty, having him give me great big hug was the best feeling.
I was home. It may not have been for the best reasons, but at least I in London.
“Hi, Dad,” I said. “Where is Mum?”
“Oh, she was up early talking Lucy's ear off and it delayed her getting ready. She'll be here shortly.”
I joked. “She knows Lucy lives down the way but I'm living in Wales, right?”
“She's keenly aware and very excited to see you.”
“I didn't really do much of anything. I cocked it all up with that reporter.”
“I would have done the same, son. It was annoying but it seemed your handler managed it properly. And then your dedication with Valley in a time of crisis. Your mother's heart swells with pride over shit like that.” Dad shrugged. “You know how she is. She'll want to know all about it.”
There was nothing to tell.
Luncheon arrived and soon after so did Mum. She did so with a flourish—loudly storming in and giving me an embarrassing hug and kiss.
“And how is everything?”
“It's fine. I will spare you the boring details of the tower, mum.”
“Oh, boo. You say boring. I say were there any near-misses?”
“Natalie!” Dad scoffed.
“Well, nothing serious. Just a wing or tail strike. Something minor.”
“No, nothing,” I said. “We did a brilliant job landing everyone, keeping the pattern tight, and making sure when we reopened it, everything was clean and safe. The ground team are the heroes as you well know. Those kids were doing a bang-up job in the absolutely awful cold.”
“Well, I am glad to hear you all worked so well together. Must have brought a smile to your face?”
I wish I could have said it did.
“I was glad to keep everyone safe.”
“And how did it go with Miss Mills?”
“Oh,” I coughed. “Um... good. She's a quiet house guest. Other than guilting me about things I don't want to do, she's fine.”
“Good. She seems like a nice girl,” Mum said. “And you've been on good behavior?”
“Mother, I know how to host guests. She is settled. Still feels quite odd about having your room, but she knows when not to argue. Her manners are impeccable. She reads situations well.”
“Well, that's her job, isn't it?” Dad asked.
“No, he means she fits in impeccably for an American,” Mum corrected. “Like Lucy, yes?”
I shrugged. “I cannot imagine a day with the Duchess was not as British as the rest of us—minus that accent—so you tell me. I don't know much about the woman apart from what I have observed. John said she went to Seymour.”
“Oh, really?” Mum looked surprised. “Parents must be well-to-do.”
“No clue.” I didn't say what I thought.
I thought they must be as well given that every bit of lingerie I'd observed the woman possessed looked expensive. I assumed girls like Eloise didn't make enough money to buy expensive hand-made French lingerie on their salaries. Daddy—or mummy—had money. Her manners added to my suspicion.
“Would she ever consider a job for us?” Mum wondered.
“What? As a permanent babysitter?” I groaned. “Mum, please!”
“It might give John a break. We could come up with a title for her. She's good with you and you don't whinge about her as much as every other social secretary I've ever given you, Duncan.”
“Not a terrible idea, Nat,” Dad said.
I grumbled. “Mum, the girl does not need my nonsense for an indeterminate period.”
“I shall ask her.”
Nothing I said meant anything to mum. I'd lost the script. Poor little Eloise Mills! And poor me! She'd think I put her up to this!
“It only make sense. With the holidays over, Duncan, we turn our sights to February, and with it, we need to discuss your North American tour.”
“What?” I looked up from my salad, aghast.
“Yes. We are going to send the crew with you. They needed a focal point. That was the best choice. I think with help to stay focused, it will work well. I'm glad to poach Miss Mills to help and pay her handsomely. She can shift to the press office if she likes after you return at the end of March.”
Mum said it as if it were already decided. I couldn’t argue. Sadly, nor would Eloise. She was now stuck with me in this. What if Eloise thought I was trapping her? I didn't want to employ her directly. It was the worst outcome. I needed Eloise to maintain the upper hand. This wouldn’t work.