floor. I spot equine art on the walls, and a smile passes my lips. Did Xander inherit his love of horses from Princess Helene?
My brain continues to observe and record as I walk. I’m in complete awe of the opulence around me. Will Princess Helene have gilded furniture? Will the carpet in her living room be red, like the carpet Xander hates at Buckingham Palace? Will her furniture be all family antiques that have been around since Queen Victoria’s reign?
That thought nearly knocks the wind out of me. Xander’s history is linked to Queen Victoria.
Someone I read about in history books.
My panic kicks up another notch as that little fact sinks in.
The butler turns to a room on the right, and I freeze with fear as I hear different female voices speaking. My stomach is in knots. I have to do this now. I have to sit in this living room and somehow make it through cocktail hour without making a fool of myself. My heart thumps nervously against my ribs.
Please let me make a good impression on Princess Helene.
Please.
The butler pauses in the doorway. “Your Royal Highness, Ms. Poppy Davies is here to see you.”
He turns and leaves me in the doorway. I see Liz and Clementine sitting in houndstooth armchairs, smiling brightly at me as I tentatively enter the elegant room. I spot a young woman with long, dark hair in another chair. That must be Lady Amelia Westbrook, one of Liz’s closest friends, who is a wizard with fashion. Liz told me she would be joining us this evening.
My gaze sweeps past the round, rosewood coffee table with a lush arrangement of pale-pink flowers and greenery in a lux crystal vase to the tartan Chesterfield sofa, where I see Victoria sitting next to a beautiful woman with a chic platinum bob, who is wearing one of the coolest black biker jackets I have ever seen.
And then I see her.
Princess Helene rises from the sofa, a smile lighting up her face as she moves to greet me. She cuts an elegant figure in a zebra-print blouse and flowing black trousers. Her grey-white, wavy hair cascades just past her chin, giving her a modern air.
“Ah, Poppy, I’m so excited to meet you,” she says warmly.
I immediately dip into a curtsy, praying my heels don’t skid and make that dreaded fart sound.
“The pleasure is mine, Your Royal Highness,” I say. The room is quiet. Hurrah! One hurdle ticked!
I rise, and Helene arches an eyebrow at me. “That will be the only time you call me that, my dear girl. We don’t operate on titles in Apartment 1A.”
Some of my uneasiness subsides. I see so much of Xander in her right now that comfort begins to take root in me.
Then she takes my hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “And I am to be Helene to you.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding happily. “Thank you for inviting me this evening.”
“Oh, my motives are selfish. I wanted to meet the woman who has my great-nephew so smitten. You do know I want the inside scoop about you and Xander, don’t you?” Helene asks, a twinkle in her eyes.
Now giddiness takes over my emotions. She knows Xander is smitten? Has he talked about me to her?
I think I need some inside scoop of my own.
“You might as well spill it now. You have no chance once Jillian serves her gin and tonics,” Victoria teases.
Jillian. I turn to the chic woman who has now risen from the sofa. This must be Clementine’s Jillian. Xander’s decorator.
No wonder Xander’s cottage looks so amazing. Jillian is so fashionable and gorgeous. She has to be in her late sixties or early seventies, like Helene. She’s wearing black leather leggings and a Sex Pistols T-shirt, with the black biker jacket thrown over the top.
“I’m Jillian Park,” she says, extending her hand to me. “Clementine has told me so much about you. I’m so happy to meet you.”
“Likewise,” I say, shaking her hand.
Next, Amelia rises from her seat, coming towards me. “Hello, I’m Amelia Westbrook. It’s so lovely to meet you.”
I shake her hand. “Lovely to meet you, too.”
“You need to sit with us, darling,” Helene says, putting her arm affectionately around my shoulders and guiding me towards the sofa. Victoria pops up and moves to a plush silver chair that is next to the fireplace. I sit down in the middle, and Helene sits next to me. Jillian moves across the room to the bar cart.
“Gin and tonics, ladies?”