the horse face and ancestors who had served the Royal Family for a hundred years was a commoner?
‘A technical term,’ said Richard dryly. ‘My father means not of the blood Royal. Bicycling Royals count. Daughters of an earl don’t. Pansy would never have been a candidate for a Royal wife and she knew it.’
‘And then you wanted me, without any sort of title in my family! No wonder she hated me!’
‘Poor woman,’ said the Queen. ‘No husband and children of her own. Just us and that flaky niece. And none of us really seeing her properly. She used to drive me mad, and I was so determined to be nice to her …’ Her voice trailed off.
She turned to the King then. For the first time since Bella had known them, she saw the King put an arm around his wife. He did it awkwardly. But it did not look insincere.
‘Right,’ said Bella, ‘I have something to say. Please listen. You’ve got to stop trying to live other people’s lives for them,’ she said, first to the Queen and then to Richard.
‘I know you do it with the best of intentions. It’s very sweet. I really appreciate it. Richard was willing to throw himself in front of an assassin’s knife for me and I don’t take that lightly, I really don’t. And the very first time we met, he took care of me. It’s very good of you, my darling, but it has to stop. If I can’t make my own mistakes, I’m not human. You ought to know that if anyone does.’
She turned to the Queen next. ‘And you have to stop trying to prevent him from taking risks. He’s so tender of you and his father, always trying to spare you worry. But he shouldn’t. He’s a grown man. He knows his own abilities. He needs to test himself, without thinking about you and the country and everyone else all the time.’
Nobody said anything. But the Queen rested her head against the King’s chest.
‘Now …’ Bella went to the door. ‘I am going back to stay with Lottie. Richard and I will go out, in public, whenever and wherever we want. I will come to the Palace the night before the wedding and not before. I’m taking my life back.’
25
‘The Day!’ – Morning Times
It was the morning of Bella’s wedding day. In the courtyard of the Palace, a golden coach awaited the new Royal bride. In her borrowed boudoir in the Palace, she sat in a gold-embroidered cream dress, with flowing mediaeval sleeves. Brilliant sunlight shone into the window, illuminating a tall mirror.
Janet Bray stood back and smiled dreamily. ‘You’re beautiful, my darling. Just like the woman in your picture. Happy the bride the sun shines on.’
Bella would have been just as happy if she had been stomping up the hill in Wellington boots to marry her Richard in the pouring rain in front of their tower. But she didn’t say so.
In fact she didn’t say anything at all. Because she thought she was hearing something that should have been impossible. A scraping at the brickwork, a sharp and probably profane exclamation, the rending sound of a creeper being ripped from a wall.
No, she told herself, it was her imagination. It couldn’t be happening. Not on her wedding day. Not with everything timed to a nanosecond. The Prince of Wales, in scarlet regimentals and a gleaming sword, would be getting ready to go to the Cathedral even now.
‘I so want you to be happy, my love. Even Finn says you two were born to be together.’
‘Yes, I know, Ma. He said the same to me. Mind you, he’s impressed that Richard has read all his books. Finn says it’s more than he has.’
Janet looked momentarily shocked. ‘Finn hasn’t read his own books? No!’
‘He puts them on tape and then forgets about ’em apparently.’
Bella tried to shift her position without actually craning round her mother too obviously. Was it possible that a face had just bobbed up outside the window?
No, of course not. It had to be her imagination.
Janet half turned to look out.
Bella said hurriedly, ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am to Kevin for walking me down the aisle.’
Janet beamed and faced her again. ‘He was so touched that you wanted him to do it.’
Bella breathed out in relief. ‘He’s a wonderful man. I … oh my God!’ she cried, jumping to her feet.
‘Darling, what is it? Are you nervous? Tell me?’
‘Yes. No. I don’t know,’