Engineering Love (Friends of the Unexpected Royals #2)

Chapter 1

One

“Papa!” I burst through the doors to my father’s study. “Your secretary told me you were up here. I was so excited that I couldn’t wait a moment longer. You’re the first person I wanted to see. I’ve missed you so much.”

My father clears his throat and blinks slowly, shooting me a bemused expression.

My cheeks sear with heat and the words die on my lips.

Seated opposite my father is a man with salt-and-pepper hair and a neat beard, dressed in a three-piece pin-striped suit.

His brows are furrowed in a deep V. Of course this would be the one time I chose not to knock.

I incline my head. “Forgive me, Father. Prime Minister. I, er . . . didn’t realize you two had a meeting scheduled for today. Please accept my sincerest apologies for interrupting you.” I take a few steps backward, inching toward the doors. “I’ll return later.”

“Welcome home, Alice. Why don’t you wait for me in my sitting room? I’ll join you shortly. Prime Minister Carrington and I were just wrapping up our discussion,” my father says.

“Yes, sir. Apologies again, Prime Minister.”

The PM nods curtly. He’s all business and not one who cares much for idle chitchat. Secretly, Papa doesn’t care much for him, but he’ll never ever let his personal opinions be known. As the king of the United Kingdom, he’s an expert at masking his thoughts and emotions. The ultimate poker player.

I exit and turn right, entering the adjacent room, softly closing the door behind me.

Franny, our family’s springer spaniel, immediately pops up from her favorite sleeping spot by the fire and trots over to greet me.

I kneel down. She sniffs my hand and rolls over onto her back, exposing her tummy to me.

“How’s my favorite girl? I’ve missed you too! ”

My fingers find all her favorite spots, and her tail wags wildly from side to side.

“You know, your daughter Lillian is doing well. She’s gotten just as big as you.

I’m overdue to bring her to see you. Would you like that?

” My hand travels under her chin. “Would you?” Franny barks and licks my hand.

Standing up, I brush a few stray pieces of Franny’s hair off my trousers. This is one of my favorite rooms in the palace. Growing up, I spent so many hours in here with Papa. I’d sit on the rug and read next to Franny while he went through the day’s correspondence at his desk.

The decor hasn’t changed much. The far wall still contains his expansive collection of books on military history.

The antique globe and collection of ships in bottles are still displayed on the mantel above the fireplace.

Crossing the room, I pull open the top drawer on the right-hand side.

There’re a few empty wrappers and a Cadbury Flake bar inside, his favorite candy.

“What would people say if they knew my father’s tastes were so simple?” I giggle.

A knock sounds on the connecting door. A moment later, Papa emerges. “If you’re looking for some chocolate, I’m sorry to say there isn’t much left. Your brother raided my supply last week and forgot to mention it to me. I haven’t had the chance to ask my secretary pick up some replacements.”

“May I have the Cadbury Flake bar?”

“Sure. But only if you come and give your favorite father a hug.”

“You’re my only father.” I laugh.

He wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. The fine fabric of his suit brushes against my bare arms. I soak in the fresh scent of sandalwood and leather. “I’ve missed you. It’s good to have you home again.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Seeing my family over video chat is brilliant, but it’s no replacement for physically having them near me. For the last eight months, I’ve been traveling all over Europe, taking a gap year between finishing sixth form and beginning university.

“When did you arrive home?” He releases me, and hands me the chocolate bar from the drawer as we both sit down on the sofa.

“A few hours ago.”

“You’re early. We didn’t expect you home until tomorrow.” He chuckles.

“It’s been an amazing once-in-a-lifetime experience seeing so many places, but the last few weeks, I’ve started to feel homesick. I couldn’t wait to be back on English soil and see you.”

Papa flashes me a Cheshire cat smile. I see a flash of my older brother Eddie in him. “Have you at least seen your mum yet?”

“I’d planned to, but her secretary said she won’t be back from the children’s hospital expansion opening in Cornwall until late afternoon.”

“Why don’t you plan to stay for dinner tonight. We’ll turn it into a welcome home celebration. Edmund was already due to join us.”

“I’d like that.”

Papa crosses one leg over the other. “Well, don’t keep an old man waiting . . . how was it?”

“Inspiring.” My eyes flutter and adrenaline floods my system as I relive the last few months.

I’ve traveled through Europe before as a princess, but never as a private citizen or for such an extended period of time.

“Reading about architecture is one thing, but seeing it up close is . . .” I blow a chef’s kiss.

“And what were the top three highlights of your trip?”

“Only three?”

He nods.

“Um . . . hiking to the top of Brunelleschi’s dome at sunset in Florence, exploring the medieval structures of Toledo, and . . . I guess spending time studying the Roman aqueducts outside Rome.”

“I thought the Roman aqueducts would be number one on your list. You’ve been fascinated by them since you were a child,” he teases.

“You put me on the spot,” I poke back.

We share a laugh. “How was your meeting with the PM?”

Papa pinches his lips together. “About as fun as watching wet paint dry.”

I snort. “What did he want?”

“The PM is calling elections in six weeks. He’s urging me to postpone all previously planned engagements until then, including the state visit from the emperor and empress of Japan. He wants the public’s attention to be on the elections, not us.”

“I don’t understand.” I frown. “Does that mean Trooping the Colour and the Order of the Garter ceremony will be called off too?”

“No, those will still go on. There’re too many important guests and visiting dignitaries involved. It’s everything else that’ll have to be put on hold.”

What Papa doesn’t mention are the tourist dollars that’ll flood London’s economy for the week. The PM can’t have business owners angered with him. My jaw clenches. “In other words, all the causes that matter.”

Historically, we don’t involve ourselves in politics.

It’s always been the family’s standard practice to go along with what the PM wants.

I don’t understand why we should have to give up our visits to places like the children’s hospital so the PM can conduct dinner fundraisers.

But then again, it’s Prime Minister Carrington, and he only cares about one person.

Himself. He’ll do anything to stay in office even though his party is probably doomed.

“Let’s not let Prime Minister Carrington ruin our day. Why don’t you show me some trip photos. Then we’ll talk a little about what else you have planned for the rest of the summer before you start uni.”

I sit up taller. A few alarms start ringing in my head. There’s something I haven’t mentioned to my parents yet about where I plan to live come fall.

“Sure.” My voice wavers. “Where do you want to start?”

“Wherever you’d like.”

Later, after we’ve enjoyed some tea and mini Victorian sponge cakes—Papa’s favorite indulgence when Mum isn’t around—he brings up the one topic I’d hope we could avoid.

“I know you have your heart set on moving into your own flat, but what about the cottages at Kensington Palace? They’re much nicer than anything you’ll find around Imperial College. Not to mention you can move in whenever you’d like.”

“That’s generous of you, Papa, but moving into a Kensington cottage wouldn’t be much different than my current flat. I’ve always lived in a property owned by the crown. It’s time for me to have a place that’s mine.”

At present, I live inside one of the apartments at St. James’s Palace in the heart of Central London.

It’s a beautiful, historical home that anyone would be lucky to call their own, but it’s always been intended to be a temporary base while I traveled during my gap year.

I’ll be starting at Imperial College here in London in September, three months from now.

It’s my plan to move into my own place by then.

Papa taps his fingers against the arm of the sofa. “So, we’re back to square one.”

“Afraid so.”

He sighs deeply.

“I don’t suppose you and Mum have reconsidered property locations?” I ask hopefully. My parents are being sticklers about the neighborhoods they’ll consider allowing me to move into.

“No. The furthest your mum and I will allow you to move is still Earl’s Court. We want you to be within a five-kilometer radius of school.”

His tone is firm—it’s going to be a challenge convincing him to change his mind.

My chest grows tight. I’m running out of time.

What he doesn’t know is that before I left, I bought a flat.

But it’s not exactly in one of the neighborhoods he’ll approve of.

I’m going to need help and a plan of attack before I approach him about it.

A knock sounds at the door.

“Enter,” Papa says.

The door opens, revealing his private secretary. “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but there’s a call from the PM on line two.”

My father’s jaw clenches. “Tell him, I’ll be with him shortly.”

“Yes, sir.”

Papa removes his reading glasses and stands, starting toward his office. “Ali, I’m sorry to have to cut this short, but I’ll see you at dinner tonight?”

“Of course.” I nod.

We hug, and I leave the room, my mind a jumble of thoughts.