“I was going to say, I don’t know you if went through this when the two of you . . .”
I nod. “When we were deeply, madly, passionately in love and banging like rabbits twenty-four seven. You can say it.”
She laughs. “When you were dating.”
“At least I didn’t sleep with him.”
“Small favors. But you’re really not mad at me any longer?”
“I’m not mad!”
“Okay. Good,” she says. She exhales, looking visibly relieved. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“But don’t stop—tell me more. You don’t know if I went through what when the two of us were dating?”
“The family stuff. The pressure. It’s constant. I feel like we’re a team, so when he’s stressed because his dad is getting on his case for some reason or another, I’m stressed. But he has me to talk to about it, and I have nobody. Sometimes I feel like I’m going to be crushed under the weight of it all. You must have seen that piece in the Sun this week.”
I nod. “India showed me.”
“They haven’t run a new photo yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Edward is hugely private—much more than I realized—and he’s terrified of me being hounded by the paparazzi. They’ve already been following us, and I feel like I’m being hunted every time I turn a corner.”
“Vultures.”
“I don’t mean to complain.”
“You’re allowed! God knows you’ve heard me go on and on in the past.”
She looks tentative, fiddling with a tassel on a sofa pillow. “It’s just . . . I have to juggle him with schoolwork and with applying to university. He’s always got a crisis at home. His father is an absolute handful. We have an event to attend every weekend, and I have to act appropriately so I reflect well on him. It might sound fun, but it’s not—it’s bloody exhausting. I feel like I’ve stepped into the lion’s den: there are all these unspoken rules and codes and it’s impossible to navigate.”
“He doesn’t make you feel bad about it, does he?”
“No! He’s incredibly supportive. But I can tell Helen can’t stand me. She’s always making snide little comments when he’s not around about ‘new money’ and ‘suitable girls.’ Nothing I can report back to him without sounding paranoid, but she’s clearly being passive-aggressive. Edward’s a dream, and his cousins are fairly down-to-earth, all things considered. But the people who work for them are nightmares.”
“Like Downton Abbey? Carson the butler being snobbier than Lord Grantham?”
“Exactly. And I have nobody to talk with. Not speaking to you was torture. India tries to be supportive, but she and I don’t get on the way you two do. She’s so . . . remote. Flossie scares me—I can’t explain it, but I don’t really trust her. And everybody else is nice enough, but their allegiance is to Edward, not to me.”
“Yeah, that’s smart,” I say, thinking of how I felt ditched by the group after Edward and I broke up. “India and Flossie aren’t about the warm fuzzies.”
“I’m so happy with Edward. He’s so wonderful, and I know it sounds daft, Charlotte, but I think . . . I think he could be the one. We get on so well, and we understand each other, and we have the best chemistry.” She blushes. “Not that it matters, but—”
“Of course it matters! Otherwise you’re only friends. Chemistry is crucial.”
“And he’s introduced me to so many interesting people, and I’ve already had so many opportunities. I’m volunteering with a great charity, and I’m learning all about polo and horses, and I’m finally taking photography lessons.”
“You are? Yay! Finally!”
“I thought about you when I signed up,” she says, smiling.
“As you should.”
“He and I have so much in common. He gets me. He makes me feel safe.”
“Huge.”
“Yes. But—”
“I was waiting for the ‘but.’”
“It’s still hard. I worry at times I’m betraying myself by being with him—that I’m betraying womanhood, as cheesy as that sounds. I’m happy to let him shine in public. But I’m not cool with always walking two steps behind my partner, literally and figuratively.”
“Nor should you! Because he’s a man?”
“Because he’ll be king.”
The simplicity with which Libby says this takes my breath away.
My protective instincts kick in. “Let me help you. What can I do?”
She shrugs helplessly. “This helps. I missed you so much. I desperately needed somebody to talk to. My life consists of precisely two things right now: studying and Edward.”
“That won’t do. What are you doing this weekend? Wanna hang out? I’d say let’s take the shuttle into London, but Mum and Dad cut off my credit cards. Maybe we can walk into town?”
“Mum mentioned they froze your cards,” Libby says. “Sorry.”
“I’m managing.”
“Unfortunately, we have a lunch with his cousin,” she says apologetically. “I’m booked the next five weekends in a row.”
“Five?”
“The royals schedule out. What’s funny is he doesn’t even like going out. We’d both rather be vegging in front of the telly with a takeaway.”
“Then you’re perfect for each other,” I say, thinking back to all the stir-crazy nights I spent with Edward in front of the television. “We don’t need to get wild. What about lunch in the dining hall? Whenever you’re free. I want to be there for you, Libs.”
“I’d love that,” she says, looking pleased. “And I want to be there for you. I’ve missed you. Even if everything else is going right, it’s like part of me is missing if you’re not there. I don’t feel whole.”
We smile at each other, and I feel a calmness settle over me. Something clicks back into place in my heart.
“Enough about me,” she says. “What’s been going on in your life?”
“Well,” I say, “kind of a whole hell of a lot.” I get Libby up to speed with the app. “Bill is like totally intense and so we’re moving forward at this breakneck pace. I have a phone call on Monday with his designers, and they’re going to turn things around pretty fast, I think. Then Bill will send everything to the coders, and we should have a working app in the next two months, by June.”
“That’s amazing!”
“I wasn’t sure if India told you. I’m surprised Flossie didn’t say anything.”
“I don’t hang out with Flossie very much, and it’s always awkward when I do. The only thing we talk about is horses. I get the impression she’s waiting for us to break up. She makes me a little uneasy.”
“Eh, that’s Floss. She’s nice enough, when you get past literally everything that comes out of her mouth.”
“I suppose,” she says, shaking her head. I realize that she’s taken on some of Edward’s and India’s mannerisms and phrases.
“Your voice sounds different,” I say.
She looks embarrassed. “Helen made a few cracks about my accent, so I felt insecure about it. Edward thought I was being silly, but he arranged for a friend to give me elocution lessons. Just as a favor. Somebody comes twice a week to campus and gives me private lessons in my room.”
“Elocution lessons? Get you! Soon you’re going to be way too posh to hang out with little old me.”
“It’s mental, isn’t it?”