Page 103 of A Royal Mistake
“What is the meaning of this?” the king demanded, appearing as if on cue. The queen was just a step behind, lips pursed in consternation.
“Your Majesties,” Henry began, realizing too late he should have discussed his proposal with her parentsbeforedelivering it in front of the entire court.
Talk about making an impression on the future in-laws.
“Father. Mother.” Pippa squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She stood toe to toe with her parents and he could see the king’s stubborn jaw reflected in his fiancée and the queen’s sharp, expressive eyes. “It’s quite simple, really.Prince Sebastianhas proposed and I’ve accepted. Engaged by summer’s end, just like you wanted. Isn’t that wonderful news?”
The queen paled and the tip of the king’s nose turned red, but for a long moment, no one said a word.
Then Prince Alexander stepped forward and clapped Henry on the back, loudly bellowing, “I’d say this calls for a toast! Bring on the champagne!”
The prince might’ve hit him harder than was strictly necessary, but Henry had never been happier to see Pippa’s overprotective brother. Chaos erupted in the garden as servers scurried about, passing flutes of champagne. The orchestra played a lively tune, and the news of their engagement spread through the gardens like wildfire. It was probably also spreading online, but if that was the price of loving Pippa, he’d gladly pay it.
Hell, he’d pay it tenfold.
Prince Alexander and Evie hugged Pippa, congratulating her on the engagement before Evie turned to him with a playful smile.
“Good luck,” she said, eyes sliding toward Their Majesties, who were engaged in a lively conversation with Princess Elena. From the looks of it, the disaster-prone princess had spilled her champagne on the hem of the queen’s dress. It would only delay the inevitable, but he couldn’t deny he appreciated the distraction. “You’re going to need it.”
“We’re only just engaged,” Pippa said, slipping an arm around his waist and patting his chest with her free hand. “Please don’t scare him off just yet.”
“Don’t worry, love, I don’t scare easily.” He kissed her temple, relieved they no longer had to mask their feelings for one another in public. “But I would like to hear more about this deal you made with your father?”
Pippa threw her head back and laughed. “Tonight,” she promised. “I’ll tell you all about it tonight.”
He chuckled, the low vibration humming through his every nerve ending. After a week apart, he doubted there would be much talking tonight, but that was alright. He’d get the story out of her eventually. After all, they had the rest of their lives.
EPILOGUE
“What the hell?”Pippa yelled, using her hands to block the spray of water that shot up from the well. Not that it did any good. The water blasted her in the face, knocking her on her arse. She scrambled in the mud, trying to get her bearings as the volunteers stared at her in openmouthed horror. “Don’t just stand there! Do something.”
To be fair, they were all green as grass and probably didn’t have a clue what to do, but surely they could think of something other than staring at her, right?
One of the guys pulled out his cell and snapped a pic of her rolling in the mud like a bloody piglet.
Well, then.
Before she could get her trainers under her, a pair of powerful hands gripped her arms and pulled her to her feet.
“Need a hand?” Henry drawled with barely contained amusement. Even now, the low timbre of his voice sent a bolt of desire straight to her lady bits, but this was hardly the time for such distractions.
“No. I’ve got everything under control.” It was a bald-faced lie, but a woman had to protect her pride. She straightened her now soaked t-shirt and took a step forward, trying to get a closer look at the dripping pump. Her trainers sank into the mud with an undignified squelch, but c’est la vie. “Just a defective pipe, I think.”
Henry snorted. “Defective my arse.”
She arched a brow and gestured to the pump. “See for yourself.”
“Oh, I will.”
Arrogant arse. Still, she couldn’t help but smile. He’d get his soon enough.
Pippa glanced down at the plain silicone band she wore on her ring finger during field missions. It had been six blissful months since she and Henry had exchanged their vows at St. Peter’s Chapel, and she’d never been happier in her life.
Which was saying something, since she looked like a bleeding swamp monster.
Once Their Majesties had gotten over the initial shock of their engagement—and she’d agreed to a spring wedding—her parents had come around. Oh, her father hadn’t been keen on releasing her trust, but she’d held her ground, and the king had eventually made good on his promise. He’d tried to poke holes in her business plan and done everything he could think of to dissuade her from moving forward with Stanley International, but with a solid business plan, she’d proven him wrong at every turn.
Pride warmed her blood as she remembered the afternoon he’d finally conceded defeat, admitting her plans were well thought out and remarkably feasible.