“Come on Dynastic.” Gaz again, bathed in sweat.
“Come on, Perpetual Ocean,” whispered Bea. “Oh, leave it out,” she said when I gave her a mock-scandalized expression.
And then, right out of My Fair Lady: “GO ON, MY GIRL. MOVE YOUR ARSE.”
It was Eleanor.
And it unlocked the room. Everyone began roaring and jumping in place, and when Dynastic galloped across the finish line a nose in first, Eleanor lit up so brightly that she may have emitted UV rays. Spectators below the Royal Enclosure looked up, cheering, the men tossing their toppers into the air to celebrate the Queen’s win. When an impromptu chorus of the anthem rang out, Eleanor waved with more vigor than I’d ever seen, before throwing her arms around a bemused Richard and knocking his top hat askew.
Gaz whooped and twirled Cilla. “My love, that’s four in a row. I’ve never had this kind of luck. It’s all down to you. You’re the Gold Cup,” he said, dropping on one knee. “Marry me, you distressingly foxy goddess.”
Cilla blinked. “What? Are you drunk? You’ve got two to go before your bet pays out.”
“If you say yes, then I’ve already won,” Gaz said. “Look, I’ll rip up the ticket right now to prove I don’t care—”
“No!” Nick and I shouted in unison.
“No, you clod, don’t rip up your bloody Jackpot,” Cilla said, though she had tears shining in her eyes. “I believe you. Of course I’ll marry you. Who else would be mad enough to do it?”
Gaz jumped up, grabbed Cilla, dipped her, and then planted a heroic kiss on her. Nick fairly clutched at me with delight. He’s such a sucker for this stuff.
“One condition,” Cilla sniffled through a joyful smile. “We are not naming our child after any of your grandfather’s fonts.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Gaz said. “The only other one that crackpot invented was called the Serif of Nottingham.”
Once Eleanor relaxed, the level of carousing ticked up a notch. Gaz’s Jackpot ticket did indeed win; Dim Tim started flirting vapidly with Lacey, prompting Freddie to inform him that with his nose’s new location, he’d need to stand six inches further to the right in order to sniff around her with more accuracy; and right before the fifth race, my mother told me she and Agatha had bonded over Orange Is the New Black and that Agatha promised to teach her to ride.
“She’s truly suffered at the hands of that dreadful Julian,” Mom said. “She can’t keep blowing out her own candle.”
“Please tell me that’s not a euphemism.”
“It’s from my therapy group,” Mom said. “It means that she’s not letting herself shine. I told her she should leave him.”
And as if my family fomenting Lyons marital rebellion wasn’t enough, I had Lacey to deal with when she corralled me before the sixth race.
“Bex, help me pick a horse,” she said, dragging me over to a quiet corner.
“Well, I heard David Beckham’s Left Foot and IWantItThatWay are hot favorites, but Gaz was talking up Who’s Your Monkey, and he hasn’t lost a race all day,” I said.
“I don’t actually care,” Lacey said. “I just want to tell you my news. I was late today because I had a meeting with a publisher.” She flushed excitedly. “I’m going to write a book!”
“Lace, that’s amazing!” I gasped. “I didn’t know you wanted to be a writer.”
“Neither did I.” She beamed. “But this editor contacted me, and it turns out she thinks I’d be perfect for writing a style book.”
“I’m so proud of you, Lace,” I said. “My sister, the author!”
“It feels really good. Like I finally have a purpose,” she said. “Whistles has been so unchallenging lately. I think my brain is getting flabby.”
I was delighted by the sight of her so thrilled about something genuinely great. All our lives, Lacey was happiest when she had a concrete project—and I hoped maybe her being at loose ends was the cause of whatever had started to curdle between us.
“It’s not a done deal,” she added. “I still need sample chapters, and all that. So when you have a sec, we should sit down and figure out how this might work.”
“We?” My heart started to sink.
“Well, yeah,” she said. “Your transformation from regular to royalty. I mean, honestly, before they made you use that Donna person, I was the driving force behind getting you out of bad pants. I think people will be really interested in how we—Bex, why are you looking at me like that?”
“Lacey, I don’t think…I really don’t think they’ll let me do that.”
“Why not?” Her face started to harden. “It’s positive press for you, and people love a sister act. It’ll be the Ivy League all over again.”
“For the hundredth time, that wasn’t a compliment,” I said, hearing Bea.
“You cannot be serious,” she said. “You are not honestly going to ruin this for me.”
I made a helpless gesture. “The Palace is never going to authorize that. I don’t even know how I would begin to convince Eleanor. We’ve only ever spoken twice.”
“Don’t know how?” she asked. “Or don’t want to try?”
“I would love to see you write a book. It just…”
“Sure. Got it,” Lacey said harshly. “Well, excuse me. I need to go place a bet. I hear My Sister’s A Bitch is running in the seventh and suddenly I think it’s a lock to win.”
She stomped away, right past Nick.
“Trouble?” he asked.
I wanted to tell him, but once I started, I doubted I’d stop, and this wasn’t the place. “Let’s just say it’s beyond good to have you back,” I said. “And you seem so happy.”
“I am,” he said, casting a surreptitious glance around the room and then giving me a quick kiss. “Other than missing you, I really love it out there. It’s the first time I’ve had such a tangible sense of purpose. Or that I’ve been confident any accolades I’ve gotten have been merit-based and not just because of…you know.” He waved his arm around the room. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.”
He took a long beat. “In fact, they might want me to go out again right away.”
“Okay,” I said uncertainly.
“It’s unorthodox, but it’d be brilliant for me,” he said. “See, they’re recommissioning an HMS Pembroke frigate, and they thought I’d like being on its inaugural crew. The Cleveland is being benched for an upgrade that’ll take a year, or even longer, so a transfer gives me more practical experience much faster than I’d get it otherwise.” His face was alight. “I’d be back well in time for the wedding. That’s doable, yes?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. I desperately didn’t want him to leave again, not having just gotten him back, not with the other sands shifting beneath me.