Page 51 of A Royal Mistake

“So, speak. You’ve got my undivided attention.” Henry casually shifted his weight, keeping his feet spread wide.

Just in case.

“I don’t know what’s going on between you and my sister,” the prince said, dropping his voice low, “but it needs to stop. The last thing Pippa needs is more tabloid gossip. She’s a sweet girl and I will not sit by and watch while you drag her reputation through the mud.”

A muscle ticked in Henry’s jaw. Was this some kind of fucking joke? Pippa was headline news, with or without him by her side. Hell, if anyone had cause to worry about the paps, it was him, not The Princess Royal.

But pointing it out wouldn’t get him very far.

He sighed, done with the conversation. All he wanted was a hot shower and a goddamn plate of eggs and sausage. “I don’t know what you think you saw,” he said, delivering the denial with smooth precision, “but Pippa’s a grown woman and she’s perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Perhaps if you recognized that fact, she’d take your advice more seriously, and you’d be having this conversation with her instead of with me.” He clapped the prince on the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go clean up. I’m meeting Pippa to work on her business plan.”

13

Pippa’s handsshook with nerves as she took her seat across the table from Nigel Chamberlain, one of the wealthiest men in Valeria and a top patron of the Royal Foundation. Like many of Valeria’s founding families, Lord Chamberlain’s fortune could be attributed to a combination of inheritance and well-timed investments. And from what she knew of him, he rarely turned down an opportunity to give it away.

Please don’t let today be an exception.

She stole a glance at Henry, who sat to her right. He smiled encouragingly, but said nothing.

Right. She was on her own today, flying solo.

This whole thing had been his idea. He’d insisted she practice her pitch for Stanley International on a soft target, someone predisposed to saying yes and who wouldn’t flinch at making a large donation. He’d argued that she’d be better prepared to solicit donations and network at the upcoming fundraiser in Liechtenstein if she could do a test run in a one-on-one setting with someone who didn’t scare the crap out of her.

At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Smart, even.

Now? Not so much.

Pippa smoothed the front of her navy jacket. It was stifling and restrictive and she felt eighty years old wearing it, but at least she looked the part of a professional businesswoman. She’d finished the look with light makeup and a sleek chignon that was pinned so tightly it was giving her a headache.

None of that mattered, though.

Deep in her gut, she knew her appearance would do little to sway the man across the table. She needed numbers, plans, passion. Not a tidy hairstyle.

Then again, judging by Lord Chamberlain’s crisp pinstriped suit, neatly trimmed beard, and manicured nails, a little polish couldn’t hurt.

Lord Chamberlain smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and some of the tension leaked from her muscles. He was a regular guest at the palace for both business and social events. She’d known him for years. If she couldn’t ask him to support her cause, she’d never be able to ask complete strangers.

Just think of all the good you’ll be able to do. And don’t throw up.

Right. In little more than a week, Henry would be leaving. It was time to stand on her own two feet. She could do this.

Pippa forced a smile and clasped her hands together in her lap, willing them to steady. “Thank you again for accepting my invitation,” she said with a slight warble to her words.Stupid freaking nerves.“Can I get you any refreshments? Tea? A glass of water? A biscuit?”

“Water would be lovely,” Lord Chamberlain said, straightening his tie. “I never could tolerate a hot beverage in the summer.”

Henry moved to pour them each a glass of water from the pitcher at the end of the table, serving Lord Chamberlain first.

They exchanged pleasantries, and her nerves faded. She could do this. She’d practiced her pitch a hundred times in front of the mirror, despite Henry’s warning that it might come across stilted and rehearsed if she repeated it too many times.

As far as she was concerned, better to be over-prepared than under.

Especially when her parents were no doubt waiting for her to fail and fall back on a political marriage. She would not give them the satisfaction of saying‘I told you so’. One way or another, she was going to make Stanley International a reality.

With any luck, she wouldn’t have to knock on every door in the country to make it happen.

“As I mentioned in my invitation, I’m launching a new charitable endeavor this fall, Stanley International.”

Lord Chamberlain nodded thoughtfully, and she pressed on, pulling a proposal from her portfolio and sliding it across the table. As he flipped through the pages, she shared her vision for the organization, watching him closely for cues, just as Henry had taught her. Though he was there for moral support, he was no safety net.