Chapter 17 #2
She tripped the first two turns, learning the music and the feel of Michael. She laughed softly as he encouraged her, his warm breath in her ear.
“Turn under my arm,” he said. “Now you’re on my right side, step forward with your left…there, you got it, love.”
The movements were melodic and romantic with couples peering up at each other. Scottie locked eyes with Michael’s, only breaking her gaze when she turned under his arm for the next iteration of the dance. On and on it went, the couples moving around the floor in a large circle.
When the song and dance ended, Scottie was facing Michael, his arms firmly about her. All around them couples kissed and hugged, several gave a whoop and returned to the sidelines to see what the band played next.
But Scottie and Michael remained locked together, his gaze so intent she felt captured, unable to move. His attention drifted to her lips, and she ached for him to kiss her. But if he did, then—
“We should go.” She pushed out of his arms, away from the romance of Michael, the music and the dance, and the tug of a world not her own. “Even though Edric is there, I need to check on Kate.”
Cutting through the tables and chairs, she burst into the clean, cool air swirling through the street where the afternoon light gave way to the purplish light of evening. She breathed deep, clearing her head, clearing her heart.
“Scottie, wait.” Michael came after her.
She whirled around to him. “We forgot to pay. We should go back and pay.”
“I’ll pop round later,” he said, concern in his eyes. “Talk to me.”
“I wanted you to kiss me in the doorway, Michael, and again after the dance, but let’s remember who we are and what we’re about. We’re not a couple of teenagers on summer break, going back to school soon, only to fall in love with someone else.”
“I wanted to kiss you every bit as much.”
“Then let that be the first and the last.” She swerved toward the sound of an old steamer boat horn, the large vessel drifting toward the quay. The lights, the sounds, the scent on the breeze…Kate and Hadsby…Michael…they were all becoming a part of her. “We’re breaking all the rules.”
“Do they matter so much? I’ll request reassignment—”
“Yes, Michael, yes, they matter. I’ve lived my life by the rules. They held me, kept me safe when the pieces of my story didn’t make sense. In Hearts Bend, I know who I am. But here?” She looked away, shaking her head. “Here, I don’t. So yes, the rules that govern my heart matter very much.”
They arrived in silence at the gate in the woods.
Michael punched in the security code and Scottie headed off through the trees, stumbling over roots, crashing into low branches, aiming for the castle’s front door, bypassing the secret of the secret passageway, leaving the taste of Michael’s kiss among the flora and fauna.
* * *
“Yes, Perry, Lady Royal came to my office. Wanted to know why I’m a republican.
Why I think the time of kings and queens is over.
She was completely out of line and I’m wondering if the whole reason she’s here, with an old title dug out from the moth balls, is to tug on the people’s emotions regarding our history, to find out what I’m about and bring down the RECO party.
The House of Blue is using their American relative to do their dirty work.
This business of staying out of politics when the Family is the head of the country is ludicrous.
Our very government is formed in Her Majesty’s name. You cannot be more political.”
— Hamish Fickle on CNC: Cable News Channel with Perry Copperfield
* * *
“I applaud Lady Royal for asking that bloke Hamish Fickle for the skinny. I’d like to know the answer meself.”
— @LadyRoyalFan on IG
* * *
“What do my wandering eyes see but Lady Royal and her equerry doing the romantic Ildys dance at the Belly of the Beast. It’s a grainy shot but you can see it’s her.”
— @AllAboutGossip on TikTok
* * *
Michael
He was trying to distract himself and failing. Sitting in the football stands on his day off, watching Finn on the pitch seemed the perfect elixir. But the effects were taking too long to kick in.
He relived the moment Scottie turned away from the Belly of the Beast and started up Wells Line. It stirred an old, familiar feeling, and he determined to be rid of it forthwith.
She’d been right. They were breaking all the rules. He was certainly betraying the code of a protection officer. Yet deep down, their conversation in the middle of Centre Street forced him to realize he was not enough for her. Not enough to change course. To consider him as part of her future.
“Finn’s becoming an exceptional player.” Michael glanced round to see Dad squinting against the afternoon sun as he made his way up the stands. “Think he’ll stick with it? I couldn’t get you off the pitch at his age.”
“He seems keen,” Michael said.
“He takes after his Uncle Mick.” Dad whistled and applauded, calling for Finn to take a shot on goal. Which he did, and the ball soared into the top left corner of the net. Finn’s clever approach to the net caused the goalie to go to the right.
Michael leapt to his feet, along with Dad, cheering. Football was his world. How he grounded himself. Forget the royal household and duty and the beautiful American daughter who’d marked him with her kiss.
Football brought him back to his center. The scent in the stands. The fragrance of the pitch. Even the aroma of sweaty lads after a rough match raised his sentiments.
In his youth, Dad and Evan, along with his Cross grandparents, cheered him at every match. For Evan, they all sat for cricket games and plays at the local theater.
These thoughts surfaced as he watched the Cross PF Youth lads take it to the boys from The Haskells. He blamed Scottie’s kiss for all this ruminating. It’d done something to him.
“Dad,” he said. “Have I ever thanked you?”
“For what?” Dad rose up, eyes on the pitch, ready to cheer. Piers’s son just tackled the ball. “Thataway, lads,” Dad shouted. “Nick the ball.”
“For being there for us. For not punting us off to boarding school.”
Dad looked down at Michael. “I loved you boys with everything in me. You’d been crushed enough by your mum.
I wasn’t going to send you away to some cold, rigorous, albeit elite boarding school where mates your own age became your family and filled your heads with foolishness. We were a family, with or without Mum.”
Michael stared ahead. “Thank you, Dad. Ev and I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t. Well, hold on, pay me back by getting on with your life, Mick. I worry about you.”
“I’m fine, Dad. What about you getting on with your life? Lady Royal’s father is near your age and he’s marrying for the first time.”
“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. I saw the business about you and Lady Royal. A chap from the diplomatic showed me a dark video of you—” Dad’s whole body tensed as Finn dribbled the ball through a couple of defenders with skill. “Have a go, lad! Put it away!”
But Finn, in stride, crossed the ball to his teammate, who sent the ball between the goalie’s legs.
“From twenty yards out,” someone called.
“Brilliant,” Dad shouted, hands cupped around his mouth. “Well done!”
Michael’s pride swelled. Finn could’ve taken the shot, but he crossed to his mate. Not only was he a skilled player, but he was also a top-drawer teammate.
In celebration, the Cross PF lads carried Finn and the maker of the goal away on their shoulders.
When Finn spotted him, Michael gave his nephew a nod with a thumbs-up. The team always came first. One could not keep the ball for himself.
That was it, then. He must consider the team—the HMSD, Lady Royal, Her Majesty, and the entire House of Blue. Tonight, he’d put in a request for a transfer to another assignment. Lennox was more than capable of finishing out Lady Royal’s stay.
As the family gathered in the car park, Dad called out, “Burgers on me. How about Fletcher’s?”
Finn whooped—Fletcher’s was his favorite—and begged to invite his best mate.
“Hurry on, then,” Dad said, then turned to Evan. “Meet you there.”
Michael walked with Dad to his Audi. “Can I ask you something?” he said.
Of course it was rhetorical, so he went on.
“Why did Mum leave? Why couldn’t she have worked for Pratt while you carried on with the Cross tradition?
Why weren’t we enough? Evan and me? To make her stay?
She never came round much once she’d gone. ”
“It wasn’t you and Evan, Mick. It was me.
I wasn’t enough for her.” The Audi beeped and blinked as Dad aimed his key fob.
“I should’ve talked to you boys about it when she left, but I was hurting, angry, and afraid I’d say things you didn’t need to hear.
I tried a few times when you were teens, then I thought, ‘The boys are settled. Don’t stir the calmed waters.
’ As for Pratt, your mum didn’t think she’d be more than a mid-level manager.
She was frustrated but loyal to the family. ”
“The Pratts and Crosses have that in common.”
“Then her grandfather retired, and her father crowned her his successor. Shocked the company and the family, he did. Jeanette jumped in, sinking in up to her neck. She loved it. She secretly feared her uncle, Hugh, would stage a coup in favor of his bungling playboy son. A woman had never headed up Pratt.” Dad patted Michael’s shoulder.
“I don’t think she intended to leave you and Evan behind.
It just happened. She lost all interest in being a Cross woman or helping maintain tradition. ”
Michael considered his father’s answer, fitting his words into the blanks of his understanding. Then he patted his old man on the shoulder. “How about this, Dad? You work on finding love again and so will I.”
“Really?” Dad said, surprised. “Are you ready? Are you saying Lady Royal is—”
“No, not Lady Royal. She’s going back to Hearts Bend. Her life is there and mine is here. But I think I’m ready to try again. Purnell would want me to fall in love, marry, have children.”
“You may not want to hear this, son, but be glad you found out Lady Royal’s intentions before you gave her all of your heart, not just a piece or two.
” Dad reached for his car door. “As for me? I’ll give it a go but give me a head start.
You’ve a larger selection of women to choose from and I daresay, more recent experience. ”
Michael laughed and offered his hand. “Deal.”
“Ah, this jogs my memory regarding our phone conversation.” Dad reached inside his motor for a folder and handed it to Michael.
“I did some digging in the archives and couldn’t find evidence to corroborate Hamish Fickle’s claims. I doubt they have any merit.
However, my assistant came across an old ledger listing Wenthelen Chapel as home for some obscure records.
I checked with Royal Records, and they said there’s nothing to it.
But if you want to find your way up to the chapel, might be worth a look.
If nothing else, get a nice hike in the woods, see how the old chapel is standing. ”
“They’ve still not fixed the roadway up to the chapel?”
“Not that I’ve heard. The Family, the Blue estate, nor the Royal Trust haven’t accessed the chapel in decades, which, on the balance, seems rather odd, given its royal and historical significance. The only way to the Wenthelen Chapel, and the Eye of God, is climbing a mountain pathway.”
Michale opened the folder that contained a single parchment carefully preserved and sealed in Mylar. The ornate script had faded yet clearly denoted that records had been moved from Perrigwynn Palace to Wenthelen Chapel, August 1643.
“A treasure hunt.” Michael glanced at his father. “You think it’s worth it?”
“That’s for you to decide.” Dad pointed to an old-fashioned map behind the document. “Follow the red line. See you at Fletcher’s.”
Michael sat in his motor, the engine idling, reversing his previous resolve. He’d not be resigning tonight. Once more, Scottie would get her wish. First, she’d requested a visit to the Midlands, then to meet Hamish Fickle, and now Wenthelen Chapel.
The “stir stick” was moving things in an interesting direction. Who knows, maybe they’d run into Ernst’s friend, Emmanuel, God with us.