Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-seven
Scottie
As Dad and Remi dashed toward the waiting limo through a shower of glowing, colorful confetti, Remi glanced back at Scottie then shot the bouquet at her with the might of a major league pitcher.
While everyone cheered, Cap caught her eye and winked. Fritz did the same.
“You’re next.”
Okay, okay, simmer down. Maybe. No, probably not. She’d given Michael every reason not to trust her. Once the bride and groom whisked off in a carriage drawn by Dad’s beautiful shire draft horse Sampson, Fritz’s advice resounded.
“Don’t wait.”
There, under the twinkle of the tent lights, a wedding bouquet in her hand, Scottie knew beyond all doubt, she loved, really loved Michael.
Everything about the O’Shay takeover, the long-held secret of her mother’s identity, the notion her future was crushed, gave way to an overwhelming freedom.
She was free. Her feet were no longer cemented in Hearts Bend’s bedrock.
Spinning around to go, she ran into Jack Gillingham and his wife, Taylor. “Hey,” he said with a laugh. “Where’re you going in a hurry? Some of us are heading to Buck and JoJo Mathews’s place for—”
“Jack, Taylor, hey, I’m sorry, I can’t. But thank you.” She hurried around them toward her car.
“How about dinner next week?” Jack called. “I want to debrief with you, ask how you’re doing? What are your plans?”
“Can’t, Jack. But thanks.” She took a long stride back to him. “By the way, congrats on Boston Brothers taking you on as Marketing Vice President. You’re going to blow it out of the water.” She hugged him, then Taylor, before spinning away.
At home, she hammered up the stairs, her thoughts well ahead of her heartbeat. Yanking a large suitcase from the hall closet, she tossed it on the bed.
“Choko, where are you when I need you?”
Full of energy, full of wonder, Scottie folded clothes from one drawer after another into the case. She packed her toiletries and loaded up her carry-on bag. Online, she booked a first-class ticket to Port Fressa. It cost the moon, but who cared? Michael was worth it.
It was only after she’d crawled into bed, exhilarated and exhausted, that doubt crept in. Was she really doing this? Hopping a plane without telling anyone? Was she actually going to walk up to the palace door and reach for the polished brass knocker?
“Hi, Mom, I’m home.”
Communication with Kate had been sweet but sporadic. With Michael? Minimal at best. Lately, a series of emojis.
Her heart thumped as she considered her options. Stay home and cling to her safe and former life, such as it was, or take a chance to explore a brand-new life?
Breathing deep, she nestled down on her pillows and slowly drifted away, the events of the evening—Dad dancing with Remi, Cap with Freya, Fritz’s loving advice—melding into a sweet lullaby.
She pictured the night of the ball, laughing and dancing with her brothers and the crown heads of the North Sea nations, then with Michael, looking into his eyes, feeling his breath against her cheek, his strength holding onto her.
Suddenly a light filled her room. Startled, she sat up into a glow so like that of the Eye of God. She heard His voice. Emmanuel’s.
“What you’re doing is good.”
A million questions marched through her, but none formed into words. There was no need. He already knew what she wanted to ask, and the answers were within Him.
Trembling, Scottie snatched up her phone to text Kate.
Scottie: Can I come home?
She waited, plopped down against the pillows, a peace blanketing her. When Kate’s ping finally replied, Scottie smiled.
Kate: Yes, darling. Absolutely.
* * *
The next moment it was morning. Or so it seemed. She’d slept so deep and so soundly. Out of bed, she rushed about showering, dressing for travel, texting Dad, Shug, and Fritz, letting them know her plans.
Dad: I’m proud of you. Remi says we’ll fly over for Christmas.
Christmas? Would she be there that long?
Fritz: Shug and I are doing a happy dance. Well, as good as an old man and old woman can do. We’ll miss you but we always knew this day would come.
In the kitchen, bright with steams of sunlight, Scottie made a cup of coffee, called for a car to the airport, texted her housekeeper and lawn maintenance with instructions. The pool still needed to be covered, so she called Ned and asked him to tend to it this week.
At the sliding doors, she took her first sip of coffee and breathed in, awakening a few more rattling nerves.
But she was locked in. Committed. In her line of sight, the fall colors had just begun to touch the trees.
In a week, Hearts Bend would be ablaze with gold, orange, red, and brown leaves.
The season was changing. She was changing.
Finishing her coffee, she washed the cup, put it away, then rolled her luggage to the front door. Taking out her phone, she tapped the screen then hesitated. Should she text Michael? Or let her arrival be a surprise? This trip was about more than Michael. It was about Scottie and the House of Blue.
No. No, this wild hair trip was all about Michael Cross. She loved him more now than she did last night.
Scottie looked up when a distant car door slammed.
Was her driver here already? The rideshare app indicated he was still ten minutes away.
Scottie checked the driveway through the surveillance cameras to see a black sedan down by the gate and a man walking up the driveway.
Didn’t she text the driver the gate code?
Opening the door, she moved to the porch and squinted through the light. The man moved toward her with strong, controlled strides and the confidence of one trained in Her Majesty’s Special Forces. Dark hair flowed loose about his forehead, his deep and piercing blue eyes locked on her.
“Michael?” Scottie jumped off the porch, running toward him, not stopping until she flew into his arms and was locked against him. “You’re here. You’re here! How are you here?”
He caught her and held her tight, carrying her toward the house, filling her with his presence and the clean scent of his skin.
Dropping to the porch steps, he held her on his lap and kissed her slow and sweet, as if discovering something about her he never knew before. She felt weak with love as she savored his kisses, each one declaring over and over I love you.
When it seemed neither of them could breathe, he rose up. “I’ve missed you so, Scottie.”
“I was on my way to see you.” She brushed his hair away from his face. “I texted Kate last night. Why are you here?”
“Her Majesty sent me on a special errand yesterday. I’m booked at the Hearts Bend Inn.” He kissed her again. “She has a special gift for you. But Scottie, can we begin again? Can we be husband and wife, lovers, partners? I’ll go where you want to go, be where you want to be.”
“I want to be with you, Michael Cross.” She kissed him tenderly. “And did you just propose to me?”
“Yes, love, I believe I did.”
* * *
Four hours later, aboard Royal One, Scottie once again opened the leather journal her mother had sent by a very special messenger. Her mission crossed in the night with Scottie’s revelation of love.
She’s flipped through her Grandfather Rein’s journal of letters from Shug while on the porch steps, but she was too excited, to bursting with love, to give it her proper attention. So she waited until now.
Michael stretched around her to switch on the brass and crystal sconce anchored beside her seat. Scottie met his gaze, then rested her head on his shoulder.
“I can’t believe Shug and King Rein wrote to one another.” She’d confirmed with Shug before leaving, tears in her eyes as she hugged Scottie goodbye.
“Our letters were how I knew this day would come. He wanted to know you, Scottie. And so he did, in his way.”
Between the journal’s linen pages, the king had secured Shug’s letters and photographs of Scottie. Shug’s even script flowed across her personal stationery embossed with the initials OBO. Octavia Broadripple O’Shay.
“I like this one,” Michael said, tapping a Polaroid of Scottie in her high chair, covered with mashed sweet potatoes. “What a mess, love.” He laughed and kissed her cheek.
“Yeah, well wait, buddy, until I see your mom and ask for baby pictures of you.”
“Which she’ll gladly show. I was a beautiful child.
” Scottie threw her arms about him, drawing him in for a kiss.
“Your mum says to read the unfinished letter first.” He gently turned the pages to the end.
“Here, this one. The king died before he could send it. When I found the book in the cellar, his letter was tucked in the front. R. Vinter was his code name. R for regent. Vinter is Danish for winter.”
Scottie smoothed her hand over the crisp paper lined with her grandfather’s handwriting.
* * *
December 19, 1997
To: Octavia O’Shay
P.O. Box 9702
Hearts Bend, TN
Dearest Shug,
I cannot tell you how much your letters and photographs of our Scottie have meant to me over the years. It was lovely to speak to you in October as well. I wish to heaven I could share all of this with Catherine, but I fear it would undo everything she’s worked so diligently to put behind her.
She’s a fine mother of her sons and it is often best to let the past lie in its own dust. As for me, I continue to battle heart disease.
I’ve often thought to fly to Tennessee to see Miss Scottie, kiss her before I depart this life, but I could not return home with such a secret.
Take care of her, my friend. Love her extra for me.
Wishing you and yours joy and peace this Christmas season and a Happy New Year.
Yours,
R. Vinter
* * *
“Stone, news is rolling from Perrigwynn Palace this week. The Chamber Office announced today Letters Patent by the queen. Lady Royal will be granted HRH status as Her Royal Highness Princess Scottie O’Shay Blue. Michael Cross will be knighted as Sir Michael Cross of the Realm of Lauchtenland.”
— Melissa Faris, Royal Reporter, the Morning Show
with Stone Brubaker
* * *
From the Chamber Office
CATHERINE THE SECOND, Regent by the Grace of God, Queen of Lauchtenland, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith, declares this day, her daughter, Lady Royal Scottie O’Shay, daughter of Trent O’Shay of Nashville, Tennessee, SHALL by these Letters Patent under the Great Seal of Lauchtenland, be CROWNED and STYLED as Her Royal Highness Princess Scottie O’Shay Blue, a princess in the realm with all rights, honours, precedence, and privileges.
IN WITNESS we have caused these Our Letters to be signed and sealed at Clouver Abbey on this day, the First of December in the Year of Our Lord.
* * *
“Swoon times a million. The new Princess Scottie gets to spend her life with that gorgeous Michael Cross. Did I miss when the queen knighted him? Does anyone have a link?”
— @StefwithanF on IG
* * *
“Rumors are flying that designer Eloise Bright, owner of Eloise Ltd., will design Princess Scottie’s wedding gown.
Eloise Ltd. lost a property battle with Reingard Industries two years ago, crushing plans to build a ready-to-wear design house.
‘The princess has been generous to us. We’re grateful she’s become a friend,’ said Bright.
Stay with @RoyalWatcherOne for updates on our next royal wedding. ”
— @RoyalWatcherOne
* * *
“Great question, Tuppence. I’ve not become a fan of Princess Scottie merely because she discovered the truth of my family’s misfortune and thus fortune.
Nor because Her Majesty restored the land and title taken from us.
But she ostensively ended a family feud.
The princess has a lot in common with our mutual ancestor Wenthelen, also the unrecognized love child of a sovereign.
She’s helped me understand the power of truth and forgiveness.
She won her crown, in my book. After all, a true princess wears the crown of healing and that’s what Lady Royal has done for us. ”
— Hamish Fickle, Lord Midlands, on Tuppence Corbyn & Friends
* * *
“The Secretary of Infrastructure announced road repairs and beautification initiatives to begin in the Highcrest Mountains today. It’s rumored HRH Princess Scottie and Sir Michael Cross’s wedding will be held in the ancient Wenthelen Chapel.”
— The News Leader
* * *
“The RECO party announced their disbandment today, citing lack of interest and funding.”
— CNC, Cable News Channel
* * *
“Is Princess Scottie getting married in The Haskells? What’s up there besides ski lodges and woods?”
— @EyeonPrincessScottie on IG