“Your father’s—”
“Yes! He touched her inappropri—her bloody arm, Burt.”
“Oh,” he places a hand on his chest, “you gave me a fright.”
“They frightened her, too. Save for one. He was a bit forceful. Upon his final breath, he understood the error of his ways. Now, you’ll steer her away from Madeline’s beady eyes, too,” I snap.
Burt scoffs. “Ahhh, dear Heavenly Father, I’ve to keep peace amongallthe lady folk?”
“Amen.” I chuckle.
“That was not a prayer, Victor.” He wipes my jaw with a steamy towel. “The Lord of Lord’s said this is an impossible feat. He further elaborated that bringing Luxury home may have been just as detrimental as allowing her to stay in New York.”
My eyes roll away as I sit up in the seat.
After a helicopter ride, I arrive at Buckingham Palace. The conversation that is soon to occur between my grandmother and me consumes my mind.
I've toed the line for years, delegating most issues at my duchy. Really, there should be no problems. But with my grandmummy, who knows.
A staff member escorts me into the greenhouse where Her Majesty often takes elevenses.
Thank God.Burt’s prayer must’ve accounted for something as this location indicates Grandmother is in good spirits.
A table’s set for two. A light rose tea kettle and cups are out, as well as the Queen’s favorite scones.
Hands behind my back, I glimpse the various flowers Luxury would know by name.
My Little One had called me a tapered, red rose bloke. At one time, I was not.
“Oh, my handsome Victor,” Grandmother says.
I glimpse over my shoulder then spin around. Grandmother’s wearing a light purple dress and blazer. The tiara atop her head matches the twinkle in her eye.
“I’ve never caught you unawares, Victor.” As we hug, her assessing gaze flickers over me. “How many times have I called off the royal announcers over the years?”
Fuck, time to focus.“You blow me away, Grandmother.” My hand cradles her cheek.
“Please sit, please sit. Though time has passed since you've graced me with your presence, I don’t require boasting.” She waves a hand to excuse any such flattery I can offer. “Compliments are for a weaker sort.”
Over tea and scones, we chat about old times.
“My dear Victor, there were so many times that I considered taking you from that brut. In the beginning, I expected your mother to take a direct stance. However, taking Silas’s firstborn may have been a blessing and a curse.”
“I survived.”
“Have you, my dear grandson?” She pauses to sip her tea, but I realize there is more for the Queen to say, so I wait. “There's a pressing matter that has come to my attention. You’re cavorting around with a young woman—”
“I thought Americans were among our greatest allies.”
“You understand what I’m referring to?”
I steep my fingers together. “Sad thing is, I believe I do.”
“Similar to your father, you appreciate suchuniquebeauties. Yes, the young lady is very keen on the eye, or so I’ve been told as is every young lady your father entertains. Albeit this is your first, your last?”
“I assure you, there will never be any others. Just Miss Whitson.” Using my finger, I push away my cup of tea. “I—”
“Of course, there won’t. You did not inherit such a negative trait from your father. However, you must grow tired of her soon.”