Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Scottie
There wasn’t one formal bone in her body.
How could there be when she grew up running in and out of Dad’s office or Shug’s kitchen for a cookie before jumping back in the pool or rolling down a hill of fall leaves.
Never mind four years of running up and down the basketball court of Rock Mill High with a fierce competitiveness.
Formalities weren’t at play in her childhood when the neighbors left their back doors unlocked for the after-school crowd to run inside for a drink and snack.
If she was out to dinner with Dad and friends walked by, they’d just sit down at their table for a chat or even the whole meal.
Welcome to the South.
However, at Hadsby Castle, Scottie waited to be invited by a footman to Monarch One, the suite of her mother.
She dined in the Grand Dining Hall. Walked the Grand Gallery under the stare of her ancestors to descend the Grand Staircase into the Grand Foyer.
She wandered through the Grand Drawing Room.
Everything about Hadsby Castle bore the title of “Grand.”
Choko brought her breakfast and laid out her clothes—some of which did not come from her suitcases.
Since her arrival, she’d slept in. Something she’d not done since, well, she couldn’t remember.
She easily fell into a routine of a light breakfast, touring the castle, or reading in Queen’s Library with an old first edition book until afternoon tea with Kate, who was not feeling well, and barely lasted an hour before wilting.
Yesterday the doctor again expressed his concern about infections, so in order to keep Kate healthy until the Garden Party—which she insisted on attending—she remained isolated except for afternoon tea with Scottie. Which the queen also insisted upon.
However, at the moment, Scottie perched on a sofa cushion and processed her conversation with Dad. She called to say hi and see how O’Shay fared without her. She’d expected some frantic “Help!” calls. An inbox of emails. But so far, nothing. It was like she didn’t matter.
“How’s Kate?” he’d said. She may be a European queen and highly respected world leader, but Queen Catherine the Second would always be Kate to Trent and Scottie O’Shay.
“Weak. I don’t get to see her much. The Garden Party is coming up, then the start of her spring schedule.”
“Scotto, have fun. Forget being an O’Shay and the job. Be Lady Royal Blue.” He sounded like a game show host. “Little girls dream of being you.”
“Forget being an O’Shay?” She stiffened at his inference. “Dad, I’m more O’Shay than the air in my lungs.” This was so weird. What was he not saying? “Is, um, everything all right?”
“Scottie, stop. I’m just encouraging you to enjoy being with your mom’s people. Don’t worry about things here.”
Okay, that made sense. “I’ll be home before you know it.” Said with cheer. A bit forced. Yet absolutely true.
Though she sensed something rumbling between her and Dad. Was it because she chose to spend two months with Kate? He said he understood, but did he? The tone of his voice seemed to cloak something.
At the knock on her door, she turned. When she opened up, footman Miles stood in the corridor.
“Her Majesty is anxious to see you, miss,” Miles said. “She’s requested dinner for tea since the hour is late.”
“How is she today?” Scottie tucked her phone into her pocket and regarded Miles
“She’s the queen, miss,” he said with a bit of a grin. “What else can I say?”
Of course, Miles wouldn’t disclose anything about Her Majesty’s health.
Discretion was paramount to his livelihood.
Down another corridor where sconces lit the textured wall, around another corner toward the back of the castle, then Scottie arrived with Miles at the familiar door of the royal suite, Monarch One.
The footman rapped on the heavy, ornate door, then backed away. Hilda, Kate’s maid, escorted Scottie to the small dining room, then exited, closing the door behind her.
“Ah, here she is.” Kate smiled but remained seated, her hands tucked into her lap. She looked tired and her pale skin a bit too thin. Thank goodness her eyes were clear and bright. “I’m so sorry I’ve spent most of your first week napping away the hours.”
“Your health is more important.” Scottie sat across from her mother at a small table set for two with bone china and gold flatware, and goblets of water and wine. “Are you resting well?”
“Fairly,” Kate said. “I feel like the effects of my last treatment will never end. I am in a bit of pain.” She sighed, reaching for her water. “How do you like Michael? Are you getting on well?”
“I’ve not spent a lot of time with him, but he seems like a nice man. He gave me a tour of the Garden Party tents and explained how everything works.”
“Rather handsome, don’t you think?” Kate raised the lid of the blue-and-white tureen, releasing the aroma of chicken and vegetables in a thick sauce covered with a golden-brown crust. The fragrances filled Scottie with a sense of home.
“He comes from the very esteemed Cross family, who have served the Crown for as long as the Blues have been on the throne.”
Kate tried to serve dinner for Scottie, but she bobbled the plate and dropped the lid, clattering it against the tureen.
“Kate, hey, hey, let me.” Scottie retrieved her plate and the serving spoon teetering on the edge of the table. “You don’t have to be a hero. I know your treatments leave you weak.”
“But it’s your first week here.” Kate curled her hand into her lap.
“We’ve done nothing together except drink tea, and I’m half asleep before we finish the first cup.
I want to do all the motherly things I couldn’t do when you were growing up, but then I remind myself you’re not a child.
You’re thirty-eight years old. Look, now you’re spooning dinner on my plate instead of the other way round. ”
“Well, if you want, I’ll let you pat me on the back later, see if I burp.”
Kate’s laugh was quick and hearty but with a swift fade, like she was out of breath. Looking down, she confessed, “I refuse to let this, this disease triumph.”
Kate’s diagnosis with Guillain-Barré was one of the main reasons Scottie first agreed to meet her long-lost, fabled mother.
Prince John came looking for Scottie in Hearts Bend two years ago and convinced her to visit Perrigwynn Palace. Along the way, he fell in love with Gemma, a Hearts Bend gal who had lost herself in Hollywood. Her love gave him hope after a year of grief. His love rescued her from shame.
Kate tried for a bite of chicken pie, but her spoon nosed downward.
“Here, let’s make this a team effort.” Scottie scooted her chair around, dragging her place setting along, rearranging the goblets and the ornate crystal vase, then scooped a small portion of the pie.
“I feel rather silly,” Kate said, eyes locked on Scottie, not moving toward the spoon.
“Either this or get half of it in your lap. Or starve.”
Kate made a face, breathing out. “Well, all right, but only Edric has done this for me in the past. Let’s keep this to ourselves, shall we?”
“It will be our secret.”
And so it went, a choreographed routine of a bite for Kate and a bite for Scottie. She buttered a roll for her mother, who could manage holding that on her own. And with two hands, she could sip her water.
“Arabella would have a day if she saw us.” Kate exhaled back against her chair. “But God love her, she’s opening the symphony tonight for me.”
Arabella, Kate’s younger sister, was married to Sir William, with one child, Princess Rachel. Arabella was lively and outspoken—or so Scottie had observed—and the classic younger sibling of a ruling monarch. She marched in line with the Family yet was eager to make her own mark.
Kate went on. “Edric had never missed a fishing trip with his mates until I was diagnosed, and I refuse to let him miss another one. John is tending to my duties, as well as his own, and his family. The same with Gus and Daffy. I won’t be seen as the poorly queen who demands everyone stop living to hold my hand.
” She motioned to her plate. “Though I can barely feed myself. This was not how I envisioned our visit. I was feeling so strong when you called. As if the disease was faded.” She held up one weak fist. “I was winning. Until—”
“Kate, we’re together. Isn’t that the point?” Scottie took a bite of the chicken pie then raised her mother’s spoon to give one to her. “I’ll be here for you.”
Kate glanced down at her trembling fingers, folding her napkin over and over. “Well, then… So, how was your father when you left?” She’d asked the same question when Scottie first arrived. “He had to be a bit miffed by it all.”
Scottie lowered the spoon. “Can we put the past behind us and go forward from here? You don’t have to apologize to me or Dad or anyone.
You did what you had to do, and let’s face it, hardly anyone in the world has been challenged with such a decision.
You didn’t want to abandon me and Dad, but you weren’t the ordinary girl next door. You’re forgiven.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “You’ve never said it so plainly before.”
“I was being stubborn, not wanting to meet you after I knew the truth,” Scottie said. “My life was set. I didn’t need a mother. Especially one who’d walked away from me. Never mind learning you’re a queen living four thousand miles away.”
“We’re living a unique experience, aren’t we? You’re the only woman whose mother left her to be raised by her father because she was a crown princess.”
“You think they’ll make a movie about us?” Scottie reached for her wine and took a small sip.
“Of course they will.” Kate, with a burst of exaggerated energy. “Who do you want to play you?”
“Oh gosh, I don’t know. Who do you want to play you?”
“Dame Silver Leckwin. She’s a marvelous and loyal Lauchten. One of our stars.”
“Maybe Chloe Daschle could play me,” Scottie said. “I loved her in the Revolutionary War film Bound by Love.”