Inconceivable! (29 page)

“You’re practicing your toast, aren’t you?” Tilda guffawed.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes! I love it!” Pru interjected.

“It’s really lovely.” Tilda’s voice had an uncharacteristically sentimental ring to it.

Pru thrust her glass in the air. “I propose a toast to John. He’s ridiculously perfect and completely loyal. He’s a loyal royal. Pfft!” The laughter burst through her loose lips and tears seeped from her eyes. Her giggling heightened into a playful squeal.

“How do you embroil a loyal royal in the U.K.? By remembering he’ll
pound
anything.” Tilda lightly tapped her fist on the table as she howled at her own joke.

“So, do you know where John’s taking you for your honeymoon?” Since we arrived at Finn’s, Sara had peppered me with questions, and it was starting to irritate me.

“I have no idea. Now that there’s so much buzz in the press about us, I can’t imagine we’ll stay in Europe.”

Tilda took a swig from her wine glass and said, “On your honeymoon, you know he’s bringing his scepter, right?”

“Oh yeah. He’d better.” I knew where this was going.

Pru joined in, suppressing a chortle. “John has the most important scepter in our family. We’re relying on you to polish it, rub it, and stroke it.”

“Am I the only one who’s responsible for maintaining his scepter?”

“Heavens, no! John’s been polishing that thing for years.” Pru chuckled. “But he’s ready to give the job to someone else. Think you can
handle
it?”

“I have just the place to put it.” We cracked up, and I topped off everyone’s wine glass.

Without warning, the door leading from our room to the pub flew open and flashes sent shockwaves of bright light toward us. We let out small shrieks and covered our faces. Bernard was at the door in an instant, pushing the men back and shutting them out on the pub-side of the door. He spoke briefly into his sleeve to call in back-up.

“God! That was crazy!” Sara said. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got to go to the restroom.”

“She’s been throwing back more drinks than usual.” Her phone buzzed on the table, tempting me to pick it up. “What’s that all about?”

“Who in the world has she been texting all night?” Tilda leaned over for a peek at Sara’s phone. She gasped. “It’s a text from Clarence Watson!”

“What?” He was the biggest a-hole of all the reporters who stalked the royal family. In addition to slinging mud for
Xpress
, he had his own television show on E! Europe.

“What does it say?” My whole body jittered.

Pru was the first to grab the phone. “If there’s a spy among us, ladies, we need to smoke her out.”

Pru slid her finger on the screen, which apparently required no password, glanced at it, and handed it to me.

There was a long string of texts between Sara and Clarence. She’d told him we were going to be here tonight. I scrolled back through the older messages. Apparently, they started texting a week before Winter’s Feast. Shock and anger surged through my body like poison, making me lightheaded. Just then, the door to the kitchen swung open and Sara walked into the room.

“Hey! What are you doing with my phone?”

“Finding out exactly what kind of backstabbing bitch you are.” I hurled the words at her, holding tight to her phone. “Bernard, would you kindly escort her out?”

He approached us, his imposing presence daring Sara to move. He put his hand over his mouth, turned his head, and spoke into his sleeve.

Sara grabbed my arm. “Hatty, listen to me…”

“I don’t have to listen to one word from you. You’ve been eaten alive with jealousy since I first started dating John. It’s killing you that a royal chose me. As if you ever stood a chance with any member of his family.”

“As if
you
did. You’re just his rebound relationship from Claire Léglise. Why do you think the queen wants such a quick wedding? So John won’t change his mind. None of them like Claire or her family. So, a fat American no one likes is better than the daughter of an alcoholic casino owner who’s up to his greasy armpits in debt. Try to keep up, dearie. You really should read some of the magazines that cover you.”

I briefly considered slapping her, but the kitchen door swung open and two palace guards rushed toward us.

“Miss. Please come with us,” the taller man said. I handed the other guard Sara’s phone.

As she walked out between them, Sara turned to me. Mascara-streaked tears ran in rivulets down her cheeks. “Hatty, I’m sorry.”

Even though she apologized, her hateful words found their mark and pierced my heart. Did the Meinrad family really believe John wouldn’t want to marry me if we waited several months? I had a lump in my throat the size of an apple.

“Let’s get you home,” Tilda said, putting her arm around my waist.

“C’mon, you.” Pru wrapped her arm around me from the other side.

Bernard spoke into his sleeve again and held the door open for us. We walked through the kitchen to the back exit.

Bernard stopped us. “There are a lot of reporters with cameras out here. We’ve moved them back. Duchess, how do you want to proceed?”

“Open the door, Bernard. We’ll just walk to the car.”

He did, and we did. The cameras flashed. The reporters yelled. Anchored by Tilda and Pru, I walked to the car and got inside as though it were just another day in the life of a duchess. And I suppose it was.

rince John Weds American in Lavish Private Ceremony

By Clarence Watson

January 5, 2014

Sorry, ladies! It’s official! Prince John is taken. The bells of St. Joseph’s Cathedral in Roeselare rang out the news of the nuptials Sunday as a select group of guests witnessed Prince John Meinrad and Duchess Hatty Brunelle, originally from the United States, exchange vows.

“They couldn’t take their eyes off each other,” a palace insider told Xpress exclusively.

Sources close to the happy couple say the queen kept the pair apart after she set their wedding date. She announced the date just hours after the palace released news of the engagement.

The Timing

Speculation abounds about the spectacularly short engagement.

“There are any number of reasons for a quick ceremony,” said royal observer Nic Capucine. “The most obvious one is Hatty’s pregnant. We know securing the line of succession will be their first order of business, so if she’s already expecting, the palace will just call it a ‘honeymoon baby.’”

Publicists for the pair sharply denied the timing had anything to do with the duchess being pregnant.

What They Wore

Duchess Hatty reportedly walked down the aisle in a dress custom-made by Mathias Bonhomme. He’s the chief designer for Valise, the same fashion house in Paris that made many of the outfits worn by John’s late mother, Princess Beatrix. The strapless dress had a sweetheart neckline with a fitted bodice. The elegant full skirt swirled out from her waist. The bodice was adorned by a few flowers and vines that echoed the lace pattern on the veil.

Bridesmaids were Lady Prudence Hanover of Sydney, Australia (cousin to Prince John), and Tilda Mburu of Roeselare (Duchess Hatty’s closest friend and chief of staff to Assemblyman Hans Aalders). Lady Pru and Tilda wore dresses made of champagne-colored raw silk. These gowns came from a tailor in Roeselare who reportedly turned them around in record time.

Prince John’s brother Henri, their cousin Count Gerhard Hoehenstaufen of Leipzig, Germany, and the Australian boyfriend of Lady Pru were also in the wedding party. Prince John accompanied them to Cypress where they were fitted for black tuxes. A tailor on the island has a long-standing relationship with the Meinrad family. Their black tuxedos offered a stunning contrast to the bridesmaids’ dresses.

Luxurious Honeymoon

Mum’s the word on the honeymoon location! The palace won’t say where they’re spending their first days as a married couple, so we asked some of our Xpress staff to weigh in on the possibilities.

“I think he’ll whisk her away to the Caribbean. What’s more romantic than the sun setting over clear blue water?” asked Suzette Schultz, Xpress advice columnist.

“He’ll surprise her with a safari in Kenya where they can behave like a couple of wild animals. Grr!” predicts Jean Piquet, Xpress Europe fashion editor.

“These two lovebirds will cozy up in a posh ski resort in St. Moritz, Switzerland where they can lie in bed together and NOT watch it snow,” speculated Genevieve Hastert, Xpress beauty editor.

We’ll just have to wait and see if this is a honeymoon or a babymoon!