To Marry a Prince - By Sophie Page Page 0,87

of other stuff I forget.’

‘Hey, I thought you weren’t reading them,’ said Richard in concern.

‘I’m not now. But I wanted to know what all the noise was about.’

‘And now you do?’

She shrugged. ‘Nothing I can do about it. If someone hates you, they hate you. They’re not going to change their mind.’

There was a pause. Then he nodded soberly. ‘That’s a tough one, isn’t it?’

Bella swallowed. ‘Yes, it is. There’s one blogger who scares me bit, she’s so spiteful.’

Richard was silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘LoyalSubjekt101?’

‘Yes. You’ve read it? Do you know who it is?’

‘Not yet,’ he said grimly. ‘I’ve got people looking into it.’

Bella was doubtful. ‘Can you do that? I mean, what about free speech?’

‘I can’t stop her saying anything, unless it’s libellous. But I agree. There’s something about the tone of that one that is disturbing. So we’re digging a bit.’

‘Oh.’ A wisp of cold touched Bella happiness.

‘Hey, don’t look like that. It’s probably some strange person who has fantasies about marrying me herself and wouldn’t actually hurt a fly. Might not even be a woman. It’s just a reasonable precaution to find out who it is.’

‘Yes, of course.’

He gave her a comforting hug. ‘Mostly these things come to nothing. They fall in love with somebody else, or go back on the medication, or win a story-writing contest or something.’

Bella smiled. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

‘Do that. I’ll keep you safe.’

But if Richard was sympathetic about the nasty blogger, he just laughed when the Daily Despatch, who had run the original falling tiara photographs for several days, called Bella a klutz and commissioned a number of cartoonists to envisage things that she might drop, break or crash into.

‘They’re not as fervent as your father, but the Despatch has never liked us since my father had its editor-in-chief escorted out of the Royal Enclosure at Ascot for pinching a waitress’s bottom.’

‘Did he?’ Bella was fascinated. It didn’t seem in character with what she had seen of the absent-minded King.

‘Don’t get him wrong. He likes to play the old buffer, but when he gets the bit between his teeth, he really goes for it. And he doesn’t like bullies.’

‘I remember you saying your grandfather—’

Richard stared pointedly at the driver’s head and Bella stopped.

‘So, I’m afraid you’ll just have to put with the Despatch. If they weren’t calling you a klutz, it would be something else. Price of joining the family.’

She didn’t care about the family. But it was a price worth paying for loving someone as special as Richard, she thought.

The more she knew of him, the more certain she was that he was right: they were made for each other. Nothing seemed to faze him. She regularly forgot to check out with the Guard House when she stayed overnight at Camelford House and he would receive calls from an irate security officer. He never lost his temper, not with Bella, not with the Guard House. Once she was late for a date because she got absorbed at work and he forgave her; more, he made a joke of it. Yet she knew how tight his schedule was and she could have kicked herself. Especially as she was surrounded by a self-appointed support group. She sometimes wondered who Richard had who was there for him, not just for the Prince of Wales.

She said as much to her grandmother.

Georgia, who had come to the flat for an evening with Bella and Lottie, looked thoughtful. ‘He has you.’

‘Oh, well, yes, obviously. But I meant someone of his own.’

‘His own?’

They were in the kitchen and Bella was peeling potatoes. Georgia had a surprising weakness for English school food and had requested shepherd’s pie for a treat. But at her last observation Bella put the peeler down and turned to face her.

‘What does that mean?’

Georgia tried to dismiss the question. ‘Oh, nothing.’

‘Don’t start with the Forest Wise Woman on me,’ said her granddaughter crisply. ‘I know it meant something. Give.’

‘It’s just that, I suppose this engagement has all happened very fast.’

Bella was nearly dancing with irritation. ‘Don’t be enigmatic. I’ve had a long hard day making sense of an illiterate PhD proposal. I’m in no mood for guessing games. If you think I’m doing something wrong, spit it out.’

Georgia laughed. ‘I think you’re doing just fine, dear.’

And then Lottie came in and they started talking about important things like saving the rain forest and how to get red wine out of a silk blouse.

Later, as they were finishing their coffee, Georgia

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024