pantyhose. Nick and I had to look scrupulously appropriate, and even though the paparazzi wouldn’t be able to see my legs, deferring to Eleanor’s nylon preferences was a goodwill gesture with the added benefit of ensuring that my duchess persona—which didn’t fit as neatly after so many weeks on the shelf—wouldn’t slip. I was about to leave when something winked at me from atop the dresser: a pin, in the form of the Union Jack and the Stars and Stripes, crossed at the poles. It had been a friendly gift from Nick back when we were pretending we didn’t have feelings for each other, and for years, I’d worn it—often secretly—as a talisman of our love. The last time had been pinned to my underwear on our wedding day. On a whim, I opened the top buttons on my dress and affixed it to the center of my bra. It felt right to have it on again, known only to me, as if to drive home that I was still myself no matter what lay ahead.
Nick had caved to only one of his father’s demands, shaving his mustache but leaving his longish hair on the unruly side. But if he was trying to pick a fight with Richard via his grooming choices, he didn’t get one. When we arrived outside the Chinese Dining Room in the east wing of Buckingham Palace—Richard’s favorite place to have a Conclave outside of Clarence House; Freddie once theorized that his father must identify with the dragon painted on the ceiling—Richard ignored Nick, but held up a hand in front of me, like a posh bouncer at a very uptight nightclub.
“Not you,” he said. “Her Majesty has requested your presence in her chambers.”
Nick turned to me with a flummoxed look on his face. I’d only been in Eleanor’s room once before, when she’d dazzled me with tiaras before essentially threatening me into renouncing my American citizenship. The idea of facing her now that she had real cause to loathe me made me queasy, but I wasn’t about to let Richard see me falter, so I put a reassuring hand on Nick’s arm.
“It’s all good,” I said. “I’ve got this.”
“There’s that American can-do spirit,” Lady Elizabeth sang, pushing past us, her pregnant belly having swollen to a truly impressive girth over the last two months. She was technically a duchess now, as Edwin had been given his father’s dukedom, but to me and the press and everyone else she would always be Lady Elizabeth—much like how, to most people, I would always be Bex. We both liked it that way.
“Hang on, is Elizabeth taking Edwin’s place now?” Nick asked his father. “I can’t believe you allowed that.”
Elizabeth chortled. “Pet, it’s easier if I do this bit! Eddy’s no good at linear thinking, we all know that.” She gave me a rushed hug. “Welcome back. I’ve been wanting to ask: Where did you consummate it? Eddybear and I have tried all over St. James’s and there were never any closets that could—”
“We’d better begin,” Richard interrupted. “Nicholas, take a seat. You, wait here for Marj.”
And then he closed the door in my face.
“No problem,” I said to the door, which didn’t seem impressed by my false confidence.
The barren hallway was peaceful, with just the ticking of the hand-carved walnut grandfather clock to keep me company. I would’ve loved to take off and explore on my own en route to Eleanor, but Buckingham Palace had 775 rooms, and I could barely make my way through the ones that were on the public tour, much less find the Queen from a dining room I’d never seen before today. Instead, I wandered to the large window overlooking the private park that stretched out behind the palace. The last time I was out on the lawn, Clive’s threats were closing in around me, and it seemed possible that I’d never return to it. I looked down at the Lyons Emerald, sparkling once more on my left hand. At least we’d gotten this far, even if the route had been ugly.
“Fond memories?”
Marj had appeared behind me, as comforting and grandmotherly as always in her light shawl and the half-moon glasses she wore hooked to a thin gold chain.
“Memories, anyway,” I said. “It’s good to see you, Marj.”
She smiled, but did not offer a hug. “Let me walk you to Her Majesty’s quarters. I’ve got a few items to discuss on the way.”
“Thank you for having Donna send me something to wear,” I