Page 21

CHAPTER 21

T he Range Rover crunched to a halt on the gravel, and Ash’s first thought was that the photos didn’t do Balmoral justice. The granite wasn’t just grey: it sparkled in the weak Scottish sunshine, flecks of black and silver catching the light like stars trapped in stone. Three steps led up to a thick wooden door, propped open today with what looked like... was that a curling stone?

“Home sweet home.” Victoria gave Ash’s hand one final squeeze before climbing out of the car.

A red-coated footman nodded to them, and Victoria returned the gesture with the easy familiarity of someone who’d grown up in places like this. Inside, Ash’s box-fresh Nikes squeaked against stone tiles as she turned slowly, taking it all in.

The fireplace was enormous, the dark wood mantel carved with thistles and stags and other things she couldn’t quite make out. To one side, a small army of wellington boots stood to attention next to fishing rods and walking sticks, like some posh outdoor equipment shop.

“Wellies are essential.” Victoria followed her gaze. “It can be absolutely Baltic up here, even in September. Last summer, I made the mistake of wearing trainers on a walk and ended up knee-deep in a bog.” She glanced at Ash’s feet with a grin. “When we walk, you might want to leave your Nikes here.”

They moved down the corridor, every few feet another door opened into another room, each one looking like something out of a period drama.

“Now I really feel like I’m in Downton Abbey.” Ash’s mum didn’t know Ash was here. If she did, Ash would probably hear the screams from St Albans. “It’s so bizarre that you grew up here.” Ash paused to examine an oil painting of Queen Mary.

“Summers and Christmases mostly, but I have nothing but fond memories. Father barbecuing on the lawn, Granny telling lewd stories and covering my ears, Mother actually relaxing. This is everybody’s place to chill, away from it all.”

Ash breathed in the smell of furniture polish, damp, and living history.

Victoria stopped in front of a statue, kissed her palm, then laid it on the stone woman’s shoulder. “This is Queen Victoria, my namesake. I always give her a little extra love when I pass. Isn’t it wild that centuries of my family have lived here?”

Her namesake. Because, of course, Victoria was going to be Queen Victoria eventually.

Ash pushed that thought to the back of her mind, and tipped her head to Victoria’s ancestor. “Your Royal Highness.”

Victoria grabbed Ash’s hand and led her to the end of the corridor, through an enormous vestibule, and then into one of the most impressive ballrooms Ash had ever seen.

Scratch that: the only ballroom she’d ever seen. The space felt alive with centuries of memories, golden light spinning through crystal to dance across polished floors that had hosted many kings and queens.

“I wanted to show you this.” Victoria’s face lit up as she looked around. “I love it here. I learnt to dance in this ballroom, and we have parties here in the summer. Loads of people come, and my gran used to make the most amazing cocktails. They were very potent, so it’s a good job she’s mostly stopped now she’s in her 70s. We need her fighting fit, especially with Granddad not here.”

“Is she up here on her own?”

“With staff, plus she knows quite a few people round here who come and have dinner with her. She’s a popular woman.” Victoria paused, eyeing Ash. She pulled her close. “I’d love to dance here with you. I’ve only ever gone to formal balls with men. I’d love to go with you.” She leaned in and placed the most delicate kiss on Ash’s lips. “I bet you’d look extraordinarily hot in a tux.”

Ash’s mind melted, between the kiss and the image Victoria had just painted. Her in a tux, Victoria in a gown, spinning together under crystal chandeliers. She’d never considered herself particularly dashing before, but the way Victoria looked at her made her want to be.

“I’ve got the perfect one in my wardrobe. Gucci lent it to me last year and never asked for it back.”

Victoria squeezed Ash’s hand, her brow furrowing. “You know, there’s a New Year ball every year at Buckingham Palace. Maybe we could go together. You in a tux. Me in a flowy chiffon number.”

“The two of us in public?” Ash’s heart thumped at what everyone would say. What the football world would say. Her parents’ reaction.

Victoria held her gaze. “It’s a stretch, and I haven’t figured out the logistics, but just think about it. It’s going to happen sometime. I would love to go to the ball on your arm. When’s your winter break?”

“Mid-December to mid-January. But I should warn you, I’m a terrible dancer.” Especially with the eyes of the world watching.

Victoria stared at her. “Having slept with you, I simply can’t believe that.” She kissed her one more time. “First, let me show you around. I can’t wait for you to see everything properly. The castle looks incredible at sunset, and there’s this little loch where we can go wild swimming.”

“Wild swimming? In Scotland? In September? Are you trying to freeze me to death?”

“Says the woman who goes to work in shorts all winter long,” Victoria countered. “Here was me thinking you’d be up for adventure.”

Ash kissed Victoria’s hand. “If it means getting nearly naked with you, count me in.”

“I promise to warm you up afterwards.”

Ash had to keep reminding herself that when she’d woken that morning, she’d been in her two-bed flat in St Albans, and had started her day as she always did with a bowl of porridge, topped with chia seeds, berries, and a banana. In the 12 hours since then, she’d flown on a royal jet, been driven to a castle by a princess, and promised said princess she’d go to a ball with her.

Honestly, this was her life now.

Following an afternoon of clay pigeon shooting (at which Ash had failed miserably and Victoria, after a lifetime of practice, was a sure shot), they were back at the castle. A real, live, honest-to-goodness castle. With turrets. She was glad she’d quelled her Instagram impulse, otherwise the impetus to share a story might have been too much. Instead, she was just enjoying being here, with a woman who was far from the two-dimensional princess the press made her out to be.

Princess Victoria was a fully formed human with a law degree from Oxford. She was also a devout Swiftie, loved women’s football, swore by Orangina (“the best fizzy drink, often overlooked”), and had a penchant for bathroom sex, which she’d just demonstrated one more time to a very flushed Ash.

Victoria was currently stood beside her dressing table, wrapped in a luxurious fluffy white bathrobe, shaking her hair in the sexiest way possible.

The princess eyed Ash, then frowned. “What is it?” She brushed down her front. “Do I have something on me? Is my hair sticking up at an awkward angle? Am I sunburnt from that weird afternoon sunshine that appeared when I was shooting clay moulds from the sky?”

Ash was sure she was sunburnt, but not Victoria. “You look perfect, and I was just wondering how it was possible that you manage that so often.”

Victoria did her laugh again. The one that made Ash’s insides quake.

“You’ve got post-orgasm glow,” Victoria said. “Anything I did would be incredible to you right now.” She walked over to Ash and kissed her on the lips.

Ash breathed the princess in, all lime-scented shower gel and shampoo. “You have a point, Ma’am, but so do I.” She smiled at her clever word choice.

Victoria looked her in the eye, a faint blush bruising her cheeks. “I swear, if you call me that in front of my grandmother, you’re dead. Save it for later.” She grinned, then placed a firm kiss on Ash’s lips. “Ready to go and meet the matriarch?”

“As I’ll ever be, Ma’am,” Ash winked.

Ten minutes later, Ash walked into the kitchen behind Victoria. She was about to meet another key royal. The Queen Mother, who’d been in Ash’s life forever. A national treasure. She was also standing at the farmhouse sink in Balmoral’s large- yet-cozy kitchen, wearing bright-yellow Marigolds and washing up what looked like the remains of afternoon tea. The Queen Mother was dressed in a tartan skirt and blue woollen cardigan, and her silver hair caught the overhead light from the window as she hummed to herself.

Even though Victoria had warned Ash that her family lived a far more normal life in Scotland, she still hadn’t expected the Queen Mother up to her elbows in soap suds.

Victoria cleared her throat softly. “How’s my favourite grandmother?”

The older woman turned, her face lighting up at the sight of her granddaughter, then breaking into an even broader smile as she spotted Ash.

“And here’s my favourite granddaughter, although don’t go telling Charlotte or Bridget that. Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you, but I’m sure you’ve made yourself at home.”

She stripped off her gloves and walked around the distressed farmhouse table big enough to seat eight, giving Victoria a hug before holding her at arm’s length. “It’s good to see you. And you’re glowing, that’s good to see.” She pursed her lips. “I hoped you were okay after the whole Dexter debacle, but clearly, you are. Your mother told me it was your doing.”

Victoria nodded. “It was, Gran. We’re still good friends. He sends his regards.” Then she turned. “This is my friend, Ashleigh Woods.”

The Queen Mother’s eyes, the same striking blue as Victoria’s, sparkled with interest. “Captain of the Lionesses, I know who she is. Meeting you is something worth bragging about at my next bridge game. Far more interesting than those politicians who drone on about fiscal policy over the pheasant course.” The older woman’s handshake was firm, her smile warm. She was also far taller in real life than Ash had expected. Taller than both she and Victoria. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ashleigh.”

Ash wasn’t quite sure whether or not to bow or curtsy, and ended up doing a mix of both and nearly tripping over one of the dining chairs. She grasped the back of one just in time to stop herself face-planting on the terracotta tiles underfoot.

“Are you okay, dear?” the Queen Mother asked.

Ash wanted the world to swallow her up as she steadied herself.

“She will be when she gets over meeting you, Gran. Remember, you’re a living legend,” Victoria said with a grin.

“Better than a dead one!” Her gran put an arm around Victoria’s shoulder. “Let’s go into the parlour and have a pre-dinner drink, shall we? I asked Chef to prepare your favourite this evening, and Edward brought a delicious bottle of red up from the cellar. A 1982 Chateau Latour. It’s not every day my granddaughter pays me a visit with a new friend, is it?”

Was there the slightest of eyebrow raises from the Queen Mother to Victoria when she said that? Ash had probably imagined it.

The Queen Mother led the two of them out of the kitchen and down the breezy hallway to the parlour with its intricate cornices, corner bar and pair of cherry-red Chesterfields either side of a roaring fire.

“Please take a seat,” the Queen Mother said, indicating the sofas before disappearing behind the bar. “I took the liberty of pre-mixing my new favourite cocktail. A Last Word. Have you had it before, Ashleigh?”

Ash shook her head. “I haven’t. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on this round as I’m in pre-season training right now.”

“A little sip won’t hurt, will it? You should definitely save any alcohol tokens for the wine, but I’ll just pour you a little one.”

Ash glanced at Victoria, who gave her a tight smile.

She understood. “Just a small one, for a taste.”

The Queen Mother grinned. “I knew my granddaughter would have good taste in… her friends.”

Right at that moment, Victoria’s phone blared in her pocket. She pulled it out, stared at the screen. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, before standing. “Sorry, Gran. I’ll be five minutes. I just need to return this call. It’s from a potential sponsor of my homeless charity, and I said I’d call her today. I’ve lost track of time.” She glanced at Ash, knowing full well why she’d lost track of time.

“Don’t you have staff for that?” Victoria’s gran asked.

“Of course. But I wanted to provide a more personal touch for this project. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“You do what you have to do.” Her gran brought over two cloudy green cocktails of equal size in crystal martini glasses, and placed one on the wooden table in front of Ash. “It means that Ashleigh and I can get better acquainted, doesn’t it?”

Victoria held up five fingers, mouthed the word “Sorry!” at Ash, and disappeared.

Then it was just Ash, the Queen Mother, and the crackle of the fire. Ash dredged her brain for all the media training she’d been put through. Some of it surely had to be useful here.

“A gorgeous home you have here. So full of character and history.”

The Queen Mother nodded, her gaze intense. “It is. I’d love to claim it’s all my doing, but we have interior designers come in every few years to cheer the place up.” She glanced around the room with its dark green walls and antique rugs. “But this room is one of my favourites. Cosy, and perfect for reading, which is one of my favourite things to do.” She paused. “Do you read?”

Ash shook her head. “I don’t really have time. The last books I read were when I did my degree, but they certainly weren’t for pleasure.”

“What was your degree in?”

“Business.”

“Smart girl. Just like Victoria. Getting a backup in a business like women’s football is essential.” She tilted her head. “Although somehow, with your skills and good looks, I think you’re going to be okay. A little like Victoria, who has a job for life. But it never hurts to get educated and broaden the mind, does it?”

Ash shook her head. “It doesn’t.”

The Queen Mother shifted a little closer.

Ash’s nerves and heartbeat rattled skywards.

“Shall we take a sip of our cocktail?”

Ash nodded. Anything to break the intensity of the moment. When the liquid hit the back of her throat, her eyes widened. This cocktail was potent. Definitely not on her list of things that would aid her football progress. But she couldn’t say no to the Queen Mother.

“What do you think?” the Queen Mother asked, taking another sip. “Pokey, aren’t they?”

“That’s definitely a word for it.” Ash’s hand shook as she put her drink down.

“While Victoria’s away, I wanted to let you know that I understand.” The Queen Mother raised both eyebrows.

“You understand?” Was she getting at what Ash thought she was getting at?

The older woman nodded. “Yes.” She paused. “I know. What this is.” She looked very pleased with herself.

“What this is?” Ash was not going to fall into a trap.

“I mean, I think I do. Victoria likes to keep things to herself, and I understand that. We all have secrets. But I’ve been watching her all her life, and I know this secret is getting harder to keep. Dexter was a lovely boy, but quite clearly gay.”

Ash choked out a cough. If she’d had any drink in her mouth, it would have landed on the opposite Chesterfield.

“Gay?” she spluttered, like it was the first time she’d heard the word.

She dimly recalled a module on this very topic. How to deal with reporters who asked inappropriate questions on your sexuality. How to shut the conversation down. Those reporters weren’t as hard to deal with as an insistent grandmother, though.

“Yes, gay. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. Likes a musical. Kisses boys. Or girls, if it’s the other way around.” She took another glug of her cocktail as if it wasn’t blow-your-head-off strong. “Which I’m assuming you and Victoria are. Let’s put it this way: I got Edward to make up the spare room for you because Victoria asked, but I know it won’t be used. Whereas when Dexter was here it was expected he would share Victoria’s room. However, the bed in the spare room was always ruffled and then badly remade in an attempt to cover up the fact they weren’t sleeping together. That’s not the case with you and Victoria, is it?”

Was there a right answer in this situation? If there was, Ash had no idea what it was. She cleared her throat, but no words came out. Instead, she gave the older woman the briefest shake of her head.

“Good.” The Queen Mother put a hand on Ash’s knee. “I want you to know, I approve. Of Victoria living her life, and of you.”

“Thank you.” Ash wanted to slap herself in the face for being so monosyllabic, but she simply couldn’t muster up any other words.

“But I’ve read up on this. I understand I can’t tell Victoria I know until she tells me. Hence, I’m waiting. This is our little secret, if you’ll indulge me.”

Ash nodded.

Still no words. But a cascade of relief washed through her like a tidal wave. Maybe, with the Queen Mother on their side, this might not be such an uphill task.

Maybe.

“However, if you want to suggest I might be open to Victoria telling me, that would help. Just if it comes up, you understand. She’s dancing around it. Her mother’s dancing around it. And every time we meet, it’s like the elephant in the room.”

Ash had not expected any of this today. “How long have you known?”

The Queen Mother smiled. “Forever. She’s dated a few men, all impeccably behaved. But none as lovely as Dexter. All as queer as a nine-bob note.” She paused. “Not that I expect you to know what that is.” The matriarch smiled. “I want Victoria to be a happy monarch, to love whoever she wants to. I wasn’t allowed to do that. My marriage was arranged, and while we tolerated each other, it was never enough. We both looked outside for comfort. It was the way things worked in the olden days.”

And now the Queen Mother was divulging extra-marital affairs? Ash glanced up at the door. Victoria was still not there.

She took another sip of her drink.

It burned all the way down.

She was suddenly glad of it.

“But with Victoria and Michael, I see a new dawn. They don’t want to do things the old way. I allowed my daughter to marry outside her class because she begged me. Oliver has proved a good choice. Solid, reliable, and he knows his role is to support. Now I think she needs to do the same for her own daughter. The monarchy will only live on if the people in it are happy to be there. Happiness breeds happiness. For Princess Victoria to become Queen Victoria with a smile on her face, progress and change needs to happen. Just so you know, I’m on your side.”

Ash stood at the window, watching moonlight paint silver across the wilderness. Sleep eluded her, though today had been perfect: the company, the castle, even the wine she’d barely tasted.

When it was just them, hidden away with Victoria’s irrepressible grandmother in this corner of Scotland, everything felt possible. Magical, even. But reality waited beyond these ancient walls, and that was their real challenge: not what they felt for each other, but what the world would make of it.

Having Victoria’s grandmother in their corner gave Ash hope. It also reminded her of her own pending confession back home. She’d been avoiding her own mother lately, knowing those shrewd eyes would read her heart in seconds. But this weekend had crystallised everything. Victoria wasn’t just another chapter in her story; she was the whole book. Soon they’d both need to face their truths, because Ash couldn’t deny it anymore. She was falling completely, irrevocably in love.

Two hours later, Ash had proof of just how hard she was falling: only love could explain why she was up at 6:15am, wearing a borrowed swimsuit and heading to a loch for a dawn swim. She’d expected a chauffeur, but Victoria had gleefully taken the wheel herself. “No need on our private estate,” she’d explained. Now, as the sun peeked over the horizon, Ash didn’t regret allowing Victoria to coax her into this mad adventure.

The heather bloomed across the hills like spilled wine, deep purple against the grey Scottish sky. Ash pressed closer to the window, watching the ancient Scots pines rise dark and proud between patches of silver birch, their leaves just starting to edge into gold. A cluster of rowan trees blazed with red berries, bright as emergency lights against the forest’s sombre green. The bracken was turning, too, painting the lower slopes in copper and rust, while the occasional juniper bush huddled dark and dense near the roadside. The whole landscape felt like it was holding its breath, caught between summer’s last flash and autumn’s slow advance.

Even though Ash was outside for her job every day, it never made her feel like this . Like she was a part of something far bigger. Like she could take in lungfuls of air and still never get full. Like she had the space and freedom to truly be who she wanted to be.

It seemed like the magic of Balmoral wasn’t just for royalty.

“Play me your favourite Taylor song,” Victoria told her, offering her phone. “I’ve got to warn you, I’ll totally judge you.”

Ash picked up the phone. “Challenge accepted.” She cycled through the most-played, but then went for a lesser-heard album track that always spoke to her. When the intro filled the car, Victoria turned her head and raised an eyebrow, then nodded her approval.

“You pass the test, Ash Woods.”

“So do you, Victoria Richmond.”

Five minutes later, they were out of the car and stood on the edge of a large loch.

“My advice? Don’t think about it. Take my hand, and we’ll go in together. It’s a shock at first, but you soon get used to it.”

Victoria shrugged off her dry robe, and Ash was temporarily distracted by her tempting body that she’d spent another couple of hours exploring last night. Safe to say, the sleep specialists at the Royal Ravens would not be happy with the amount she’d clocked up this weekend. They would, however, be happy about this cold-water immersion.

“I might not wild swim, but I have to do hydrotherapy as part of my job. Which includes ice baths. I’m not a complete novice.” Ash shrugged off her outer layer.

Victoria squeezed her hand. “Perfect!” she said, with the calm assurance of someone who rarely heard the word ‘no’. “Ready?”

With that, she yanked Ash’s hand and they broke the water. Ash gasped as the cold water climbed her thighs, but Victoria’s steady presence anchored her. They counted down from three, then plunged shoulder-deep in unison. The shock punched the air from Ash’s lungs, Scotland’s ancient waters wrapping around her like a living thing. On the opposite side of the loch, a red deer paused at the water’s edge, and for a moment, everything was wild and possible.

Suddenly, Ash got it. If Victoria could do this, she could do anything. Perhaps this was why she did it so often, to challenge herself. Taking the plunge was all about taking the first step. Being a professional footballer, she knew that more than most.

Victoria grinned at Ash, then leaned back, resting her head in the water, floating.

Ash did the same, reaching out for her hand. Her teeth chattered, but as she took deep lungfuls of air, her temperature levelled out.

They stayed like that for a few long moments, watching the day break through the scattered clouds.

“I sometimes wish I could stay here forever.”

“I understand that now I’m here.” Ash squeezed Victoria’s fingers with her own. A few minutes later, they swam further into the loch, then stopped to admire the scenery.

“Drink this in. Nobody around. It won’t be like this for a long while now.” Victoria’s jaw twitched as she spoke.

“Especially now I’m back in training. First proper league game in two weeks. And you’re off to Wales to open factories, pat babies, and help to save the planet?”

“Something like that. One royal visit at a time,” Victoria said. “That’s why having this time was so important. You mean a lot to me, Ash.” She licked her lips. “I can’t wait to watch you play more often again. This time as your…” Victoria trailed off, then glanced at Ash. “Can I say girlfriend?”

The water around them rippled as Ash moved towards Victoria and took her in her arms, flushing their bodies together as one. “It would be my honour to be your girlfriend, Ma’am.”

Victoria’s eyes flickered with delight. She kissed Ash again, and the world swam around them.

When they pulled apart, Victoria stared at Ash like she hung the moon.

“There’s no need to look at me like that,” Ash said, heat rising to her cheeks. “My hair is plastered to my head, and it’s still the middle of the night. I’m sure I look like a frozen sausage.”

Victoria snorted. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Spot on.” She rolled her eyes. “I have a question for my frozen sausage.” She paused. “When you score a goal, do you have a celebration?”

Ash shook her head. “Not really.” She had plenty of teammates who did, but Ash just went for the standard air punch.

Victoria licked her lips. “If you score at the weekend, will you do a special celebration to camera just for me?”

Her face was so full of joy, Ash couldn’t refuse. “I’ll do anything for you.” She meant it, too. Even in these icy temperatures. “But I should warn you, I don’t score that much. Although my creative coach and I identified it as something I should focus on this season.”

Victoria’s arms snaked around her neck and pulled her close. “I think you should listen to your coach, focus, and score. I have faith in you. Just remember how much you scored this weekend,” she added. “I know you can do it again.”