Page 33

CHAPTER 33

A sh curled up in the corner of her parent’s cream sofa, not really watching The Holiday . Kate Winslet was falling for Jack Black, but she couldn’t focus on the story. The Heroes tub had made several circuits, and Ash had claimed all the Eclairs, their wrappers scattered around her like crime-scene evidence. Her nutritionist would not approve, but she’d given herself three days off over Christmas. She deserved some joy in her life.

The knock at the door was sharp and uninvited. Whoever it was didn’t know them, because everybody knew the Woods didn’t use their front door.

Her mum frowned, pausing the film.

“Mark!” she shouted, but Ash’s dad didn’t answer. He was in the den, watching the first Ashes test.

“I’ll get it, Mum.” Ash jumped up, nerves jangling. She didn’t know why, but she had a notion this knock was for her. If the sweary door-knockers were back, she was going to give them a piece of her mind turning up on Boxing Day.

However, when she opened the door, she wasn’t prepared for who was on the other side.

Prince Michael, in jeans and a blue jumper. And next to him, the Queen Mother, who looked all sorts of out of place in their parents’ street.

“Beatrice!” Ash clamped a hand over her mouth. “I mean, hello again.” She sort of bowed, then cringed. She hated the bowing business. It really wasn’t her.

“Lovely to see you, too, Ashleigh,” the Queen Mother said. “Might we come in?”

Ash stood back. “Of course.”

The Queen Mother stood in their living room doorway like it was the most natural thing in the world, black handbag hanging from her arm. Michael hovered behind her shoulder. The older woman was dressed like she was about to go walking in the Highlands, tartan skirt and thick woollen jumper. Her makeup was immaculate, and her grey hair didn’t move as she turned her head.

“Oh my goodness, you are not who I expected.” Ash’s mum scrambled to her feet, picking up the chocolate wrappers from the sofa and scrunching them in her fist. “You must forgive the mess.”

“Nonsense.” The Queen Mother sat where Ash indicated, in the armchair nearest the door. “It’s Boxing Day. Homes should look lived in.” She glanced at the TV. “And may I congratulate you on your film choice. One of my favourites of the season, too. Jude Law is just divine, isn’t he?”

The paused frame of The Holiday showed Jude standing in the cottage kitchen, trying not to cry.

Michael caught Ash’s eye as he sat beside his grandmother, giving her a small smile that did nothing to settle the riot in her stomach.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Your Royal Highnesses?” Ash’s mum bowed, then took an audible breath and wrung her hands.

But Michael shook his head. “That’s very kind, but we can’t stay long. Victoria doesn’t know we’re here and she’d probably kill us if she did.”

“But we felt like we had to do something, and eventually, I persuaded Michael,” added Beatrice.

“With that in mind, Victoria’s miserable.” Michael winced. “Properly miserable. Not eating, barely sleeping. Just sort of... existing.”

Ash swallowed hard. She knew exactly how that felt. She waited to see what was coming next.

“And I need to confess something,” he continued. “It was me who leaked the story to the press. I don’t have a decent excuse.” He caught Ash’s gaze. “I’ve told Victoria a million times I’m sorry, but I wanted to tell you, too. I think in the recesses of my drunken brain, I thought it might force my parents’ hand. It did, but not in the way I imagined.”

Ash closed her eyes. Michael. She knew Victoria had hoped it wasn’t. She’d be crushed.

“You’re both miserable,” the Queen Mother observed, her sharp eyes fixed on Ash. “Where’s that smile you wore in Balmoral?”

“With all due respect,” Ash said, finding her voice, “it’s not that simple. Victoria isn’t allowed to come out, and I can’t go back to hiding or being the ‘close friend’ in public.” Not that anyone would buy that now. “I’m not standing on the sidelines and watching Victoria on some man’s arm.” She was very clear on that.

“Did you watch my mother’s speech yesterday?” Michael asked.

Ash nodded. She’d watched it three times, searching for hidden meanings in every carefully chosen word.

“The theme of change wasn’t just plucked from the air,” the Queen Mother said. “That was about you. Both of you. Victoria spoke to me yesterday, quite forcefully I might add. And I spent the evening speaking with her parents. Times are changing. The monarchy must change with them, or become irrelevant.”

“We’re working on a plan,” Michael added. “A proper one, with the press office involved. No more hiding. No more arranged dates. It won’t be easy, but we’ll handle it properly this time.”

Ash's heart bloomed, and her mind dared to dream. Could it really all be possible? “What do you want me to do?”

“Come with us now,” the Queen Mother said. “There’s no time like the present. We can drop you in Kensington. Victoria is there.”

Ash glanced down at her grey tracksuit. “Now? But I’m not dressed to go anywhere.”

“Then get changed,” Michael said. “We’ll wait.”

They weren’t taking no for an answer.

Ash looked to her mum, silently asking a question. Her mum seemed to understand.

“You should go, love,” her mum said softly. “You’ve been going through the motions ever since you split up. If there’s a chance to make it work, isn’t it worth a shot?”

Ash looked at her mum, then at these unexpected visitors who were offering her a way back to Victoria. Back to happiness, maybe, but this time without the shadows.

If not now, then when? She stood up. “Give me ten minutes. I need to find something suitable to wear to surprise a princess.”

The Queen Mother’s eyes crinkled with approval. “Take 15, dear. Put a brush through your hair. Some occasions deserve proper consideration. While we wait, maybe your mother can divulge her delicious Yorkshire pudding recipe. Victoria has not stopped raving about it.”

Michael led Ash past the kitchen door, and the taste of Victoria’s risotto sprang to her lips. Someone had dressed the hallway since she was last here, with garlands wrapped around banisters, and twinkling lights in every window. The house smelled of pine and woodsmoke.

“She’s been in there all day,” Michael whispered as they approached the lounge. “Just sitting with a book she’s probably not reading, and playing that Taylor Swift album on repeat.”

Ash knew precisely the one. Something twisted beneath her breastbone.

“Just to let you know, you’ve got the house to yourself. I’m getting straight back in the car and going to the Palace for an evening with Gran. Apparently, there’s a game of monopoly in my future. You wouldn’t believe what a tyrant Gran is at that game.” He gave her a soft smile, then pressed the door handle. “Ready?”

Ash nodded, though ready wasn’t quite the word.

How could she ever be ready for this?

The door opened silently. Victoria was exactly where Ash had imagined, curled into her oversized armchair, firelight playing across her face. She was wearing silk pyjama bottoms and that ridiculously expensive cashmere jumper Ash had worn on a couple of occasions when she’d stayed. Her hair was loose around her shoulders. A book lay open in her lap, but her eyes were fixed on the window, watching the frost patterns forming on the glass. On the speakers, Taylor was singing about her cardigan.

Victoria looked up at the sound of the door, probably expecting Michael. When she saw Ash, she stood quickly, the book slipping from her lap, landing softly on the carpet.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was barely a whisper, like she thought she might be dreaming.

“Your grandmother and Michael came to my house. They were very persuasive,” Ash told her. “Although if they hadn’t come, I might have been brave enough in the New Year. They just sped things up a little.”

“Gran went to St Albans?” Victoria’s hand flew to her mouth.

Ash nodded. “She did. Sat on my parents’ sofa. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mum so shocked.”

“She’s terrifying when she wants something.” Victoria tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

How Ash had missed seeing that.

“But I’m glad she did. I’ve been—”

“Miserable?” Ash supplied. “Yeah, me too.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of nearly two months apart hanging between them. Then Victoria moved, closing the distance in quick steps, and Ash met her halfway. The kiss was desperate at first, hands clutching at clothes, trying to eliminate any space between them. Then it softened, became something more like coming home.

When they finally broke apart, Victoria pressed her forehead against Ash’s. “I’m so sorry. I should have fought harder.”

“Shhh.” Ash kissed her forehead. “I was very clear what I wanted. You respected that. But somehow, even after this long apart, things weren’t getting better.” She kissed her lips again, and Victoria whimpered as she returned it. When Ash pulled back, she swiped her thumb across Victoria’s bottom lip, and they both took a huge intake of breath.

“We both made mistakes. But Michael said there’s a plan for you to come out?”

Victoria nodded, leading Ash to the leather sofa near the fire. They sat close, fingers intertwined. “The press office are coming over tomorrow to discuss it. Mother and Father have agreed it has to happen, and Gran convinced them there was no time like the present. I wasn’t sure they’d really see it through, but did you see her speech?”

“I did. Your grandmother said it was about us.” Ash couldn’t help her gaze dropping to Victoria’s lips. She wanted to kiss them again, feel them on her skin. She would, but not right now.

“It was.” Victoria rubbed her ear. “The key thing about that is she recorded that before my gran arrived. Which makes it mean so much more to me.”

Ash’s mouth formed an ‘O’. “Wow.”

The Queen was an intimidating woman, but she clearly cared about her daughter’s happiness. That was good to know.

“She talked about change, about tradition bending rather than breaking. About the monarchy evolving.” Victoria squeezed Ash’s hand, then held her gaze. “I think she might mean it this time.” She took a deep breath. “I want to try again, Ash. Properly this time. No hiding, no pretending we’re just friends. But only if you want that.”

Ash yearned to say yes to it all. But was that wise? She didn’t know. All she did know was that what she wanted was sat right in front of her, asking her to try again. If this was football, she’d agree immediately. Try again, learn from what went wrong last time, make this time a success.

Maybe it really was that simple.

“I’ve missed you so much, too. I’ve been a mess. But if we do this—”

Victoria squeezed her hand so tight, she almost cut off her circulation.

“—it has to be on our terms. I’m not letting them push some sanitised version of us into the world. We hold hands. We support each other. We’re a couple in public.”

“Agreed,” Victoria said firmly. “We need to control the narrative from the start. Father was talking about a strategic photo opportunity? Something that shows us exactly as we are?”

“I could use my socials, too. Get my team to help. Marianne will love the challenge. Soft launch us in the New Year.”

“Talking of the New Year.” Victoria stood, stripped off her jumper, unbuttoned her pyjama top, then straddled Ash, her breasts right in front of Ash’s face.

Ash cupped Victoria’s breast with her hand, and the touch of Victoria’s skin sent an arrow of desire right into her centre.

Victoria leaned down, put a finger under Ash’s chin and lifted her gaze to meet her own. “New Year,” she whispered, her voice a husk. “Focus.” A smile ghosted over her lips before she pressed them to Ash’s. When she pulled back, it was by mere inches.

“The New Year Ball.” Victoria’s eyes were dark with want. “I want you to come with me, as my date. That’s going to be our first outing as a couple. It was agreed last night. Now we just have to break it to everyone else.” She ran a fingertip down Ash’s cheek. “What do you think? Will you be my Prince Charming?”

“I would love to be your Prince Charming.” Ash cupped the back of Victoria’s head, and brought her down into a bruising kiss.

This kiss was different: heated, purposeful. Ash’s hands found their way to the soft skin of Victoria’s back, and then Victoria stood up and shook off her pyjama bottoms, before pressing her lips back to Ash.

“Fuck me, please,” she said, all royal protocols out the window. “It’s been two months of wanting you every day, and I can’t wait. We can take it slow all night long if you like, but right now.” She straddled Ash once more, grabbed her hand, and guided Ash to her very core.

“Just there.” Victoria’s breath was hot in Ash’s ear as her head slumped forward.

“You’re so wet,” Ash whispered, knowing she was, too, but this wasn’t about her. Right now, she had to show Victoria how much she’d missed her.

Ash slid her fingers inside Victoria, and ever so slowly, began to fuck her. As she did, she had a moment of wonder. A big part of her had thought she’d never be in this position again. Making love to the woman she loved. But as Victoria ground her hips into Ash’s lap, gratitude rose up high inside Ash. Forces had tried to pull them apart, but this moment showed her they were meant to be together. She was put on this earth to make Victoria tremble against her, to make her eyes blaze with desire. This time, she was going to hold on tight, no matter what life threw at them.

Victoria’s hands grasped Ash’s shoulders, her nails biting into the fabric of Ash’s shirt as she rode her fingers. Ash’s mouth watered with the need to taste Victoria’s skin, but she focused on the task at hand, her fingers moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made Victoria groan and shake.

Ash didn’t think she’d ever seen her look more beautiful than right at this moment.

She wasn’t the heir to the throne. She was simply, Victoria.

The room around them melted away, leaving only the sensation of their bodies moving in tandem. Ash’s fingers curled slightly, finding that spot that made Victoria gasp and arch her back. The sight of her, so open and trusting, sent a thick pulse of yearning through Ash, a reminder of why she was here, why she’d come back.

As the tension built, Victoria’s breathing quickened, her body coiling like a spring. Ash’s thumb brushed against her clit, and she felt the shiver run through Victoria, the spark that ignited the flame. Victoria’s hips jerked, then her body stilled before her orgasm ripped through her. Ash held her close, her fingers still moving, drawing out the pleasure as Victoria’s cry echoed through the room. Damn, she’d missed the sound of Victoria in full flow.

As the aftershocks subsided, Ash’s fingers slowed, her touch gentle as she stroked Victoria’s sensitive skin. Victoria’s head fell forward, her forehead pressed against Ash’s shoulder, her body vibrating with the aftermath. Ash withdrew her fingers, then wrapped her arms around Victoria, holding her close as they sat there, the only sound the gentle crackling of the fire and Taylor Swift still serenading them.

Victoria eventually righted herself, her cheeks flushed, a satisfied smile on her face. “I will never listen to this song in the same way again.”

Later, tangled in Victoria’s cotton sheets after they made it to bed, Victoria traced lazy patterns on Ash’s stomach. “These endless weeks have been hell,” she said. “I never want to lose you again.”

“Agreed. It’s going to be a car crash though, isn’t it?” But whatever happened, now they both truly knew what they wanted, she could cope. “Do you think we’ll be the subject of countless radio phone-ins again, debating the rights of queer people?”

“I don’t doubt it.” Victoria pressed a kiss to Ash’s shoulder. “But we’ll be ready. The press office will have a plan, as will your team. Security will be increased for both of us and our families. Plus, this time, nobody’s being blindsided. We’re leading the story.”

Ash put her hand over her eyes. “Dammit, my mum’s going to need media training. Ask her a question, and she might divulge all our secrets.”

“She can tell the world I love her Yorkshires, and then give everyone the recipe. When you think about it, we’re doing a public service.” Victoria grinned. “But honestly? Let them talk. Let them write their headlines and make their commentary. We’re not the first royal couple to face scrutiny, and we won’t be the last.”

“Royal couple?” Ash raised an eyebrow. “Am I actually part of a royal couple?” It still sometimes took her by surprise.

Victoria propped herself up on an elbow, suddenly serious. “You are, Ashleigh Woods. I want to build something real with you, something that lasts. Whatever we have to face, I want to face it together. For real this time.” She paused, her eyes glassy. “I love you, Ash.”

The rush of love she got for Victoria took her breath away. She pulled her in for a soft kiss. “I love you, too. And yes, we’ll face it together. But first, can we just stay here for a bit? Just us, before the whole world gets involved? For the next, I don’t know, five years?”

“Five years sounds good,” Victoria agreed, settling against her. “Just us, and our favourite Deliveroo driver seeing us through.” She kissed Ash’s breast, before looking up. “Though fair warning: Gran will probably arrive before lunch tomorrow to discuss wardrobe options for the Ball.”

“The Queen Mother is coming for lunch?”

“She never misses a chance to meddle in my love life. Speaking of which…” Victoria’s hand wandered to Ash’s thighs. “We should probably make the most of our privacy while we have it.”

Ash rolled them over, pinning Victoria beneath her. “Now that's the kind of royal directive I’m happy to follow.”