“Libby, that is the bloody understatement of the year.”
We burst into laughter, doubling over and giggling so hard we both have to wipe tears from our eyes.
“Mum must be having a coronary. Did she know you were meeting the King and the Queen?”
“I told her it might be a possibility,” Libby admits. “But I swore her to secrecy.”
“I understand.” I look around the room again, trying to soak up this moment. Me and my sister, alone in a grand chamber at Windsor Castle.
The door to the room opens and we both look up in alarm.
“Oh, thank God,” says Libby. “It’s just you.”
Edward walks in, looking confused. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. What are you doing in here?”
“Charlotte and I needed a moment alone.”
Edward doesn’t hesitate, and looks over at me with a small smile. “Of course. Take your time. When you’re done, come find me. Perry’s just arrived, and I want you two to meet.”
“Finally,” Libby says. “His friend Perry Kent flew in from Kenya just for Edward’s birthday.”
I nod, recognizing the name from the society pages. Peregrine, the Marquess of Kent. He’s set to become a duke when his father dies.
“Maybe we should introduce him to Charlotte?” Libby says teasingly.
I look at them in alarm. “Let’s not with the setups, shall we? I have enough on my plate without adding a guy to the mix.”
Edward laughs, and for a moment, I feel like we’re friends again. “I’ll leave you to it.” He blows Libby a kiss and then closes the door shut behind him.
We’re quiet for a moment after Edward exits. His presence is so powerful that it’s like he’s still in the room, even though now it’s only the two of us sitting in the dusk.
“He’s a good dude,” I say.
“He is. Thank you, Charlotte.”
“He takes care of you? Treats you well?”
“He does. He tries.”
“Then that’s all I can ask. When are you bringing him home?” Obviously, I’d fantasized a few times about triumphantly bringing Edward home to Wisteria myself, but it was more like a girlish fantasy than an actual reality.
Libby’s eyes bug out. “Never? How does never sound?”
“Libby!” I laugh. “He’s got to meet them sometime.”
“Cringe,” she says. “Mum keeps asking me to bring him around, but I don’t want to ruin it. We’ve only been dating a few months.”
“People have gotten married in less time.”
“Not when they’re only eighteen!”
“Tell that to his grandma. Wasn’t she eighteen when she married the crown prince? And besides: you’re nineteen now.”
Libby laughs. “I don’t want to freak him out. It’s a bit soon to bring him home, don’t you think?”
“Look, if you’ve already met the damn King and Queen, I think it’s okay to ask him to Wisteria for a bite with Mum and Dad.”
“I guess,” she says reluctantly. “I just don’t want anything to ruin it.”
“Libby, he’s head over heels for you. What could possibly ruin it?”
twenty-one
“So, Edward, tell me,” Nana says. “What are your intentions with my granddaughter?”
It’s a Saturday in early May, and the family has gathered in our sitting room at home in Midhurst. Edward takes a long sip of his water, trading a glance with Libby. The rest of us look at each other in alarm while Nana sits calmly in Dad’s favorite lounger. Her legs are crossed, arms resting on the chair. She reminds me of a scene from The Godfather.
When Libby decided to invite Edward home to Wisteria, it was meant to be a casual, low-key meeting—just the immediate family, and nothing special. Libby begged Mum not to tell Nana.
Mum couldn’t help herself. She’s always trying to impress her.
The morning of Edward’s visit, Nana showed up unannounced. She missed the country air! She wanted to stay for a day or two to spend time with us! What? Prince Edward was coming? What a lark!
The timing was purely coincidental, of course.
Now it’s me, Nana, Libby and Edward, and Mum and Dad. I took the train last night, but Libby and Edward had a car drive them from campus this afternoon. They’re heading back to campus tonight, while I’m planning to stay the full weekend.
I’ve snuck some sips of Mum’s white wine from the fridge while nobody was looking. Dutch courage.
Edward looks at Libby again in response to the question. She makes the tiniest motion with her eyebrows, as if to say, I told you my family was nutters.
“Well,” Edward says, clearing his throat. “I’m crazy for Libby, ma’am. That’s why I’ve introduced her to several members of my family—including my parents.”
“And why he was keen on coming here to meet you today,” Libby adds.
“So when she was introduced to the King and the Queen, it was as your girlfriend?”
Libby squirms in her chair, but Edward looks Nana full in the face and smiles politely. “Yes, ma’am.” We should have known better than to worry about Edward dealing with Nana. He’s clearly been trained for worse.
“That’s wonderful. Good boy.” Nana sits up higher in her chair, looking satisfied. She turns to my father. “Matthew, dear, would you get me a cup of tea?”
“Just tea? Not your usual double gin, Mother?”
“Just tea will be fine, thank you,” she snaps.
“I’ll get it,” Mum says, standing up. “Edward? Tea?”
“Yes, please. Thanks, Mrs. Weston.”
I push my chair back. “Here, let me help you.”
Once we’re in the kitchen, Mum turns to me. “Thank you, honey. Don’t think your father and I haven’t noticed the effort you’re making. You should be working on your app right now, not having to babysit us all. We’re incredibly proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mum. I am working, don’t worry. Bill is texting me nonstop, and I’m sending him back some wireframe sketches tomorrow. And, no, this isn’t my preferred way to spend a Saturday—but only because I’m worried Nana’s going to say something ridiculous and send Edward running for the hills.”
Mum laughs, brewing the tea and pouring it into a floral china pot. “It’s a miracle your father ever married me.”
“Don’t you forget it,” Dad says, coming into the kitchen. “Throw the scones on there, too, Jane.”
“You left the two of them alone with Nana?” I gasp. “Dad! What were you thinking?”
He shrugs. “The boy’ll have to learn sometime. We can’t hide the crazy lady in the attic forever.”
Mum shoots Dad a look. “Watch it, Weston. Regardless of how she acts, she’s still my mother.”
“You guys,” I say, stressed out, “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough.”
“Oh, relax, Charlotte,” Mum says. “Edward’s not fragile. That young man is capable of much more than people give him credit for. He knows how excited people like us get over royalty.”
“People like us?”
“Nonroyals. Commoners.”
“Peasants,” Dad adds helpfully.
She takes a plate of perfectly cut rectangular mini tea sandwiches out of the fridge: watercress and cucumber, smoked salmon and cream cheese, and egg salad.