The Last in Line (The Royal Inheritance Series Book 1) (27 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

THERE WAS NOTHING to do now but wait.

Her coronation gown hung on a headless mannequin waiting for the only time it would be worn before being installed in a museum. Tomorrow at ten in the morning when she would be crowned as queen. The gown was beautiful. Heavy silk with tiny jewels and crystals sewn in on the bodice and along the sweeping hem. When she had asked Roberts how much it had cost, he had cocked his head and said they would find out in the yearly expense report. It was heavy and though the corset felt like a medieval torture device, it gave her a fantastic silhouette and when she had topped it with a powder blue sash and turned to look at the unrecognizably regal woman in the mirror, she’d blurted out, “I want to wear this next Halloween!” Her fingers itched to try it on again, but it was so heavy and perfectly fitted that it took two assistants to help her get it over her head, pulled down, and buttoned up the back.

She and Audrey and Cassandra leaned against the window sill watching the snowflakes drift down onto the bustling street below. It was Christmas Eve and the street was busier than usual with taxis and people filling the sidewalks with packages in their arms. Lights twinkled from street lamps and windows, and down the street she could see the warm glow coming from a pub’s windows that was open late on Christmas Eve.

“Let’s go out,” said Renee suddenly.

“You’d be spotted in a minute,” said Audrey, but her eyes were sparkling.

Audrey had stayed late to assist with the preparations. She and Roberts had spent hours going over every detail of the schedule, triple checking the musical selections, helping Renee remember the lines she was supposed to speak, when and how she should look and sound when she spoke them, choosing the location of the cameras, confirming that everyone who was supposed to participate was actually in the city and ready for the show because that’s what it was: a massive televised show of pomp and ceremony. Renee had the easiest task, she thought—just show up, look good, and say a few words whenever somebody asked her a question.

“I’ll go!” said Cassandra.

“Oh no you’re not,” said Leanne, not taking her eyes off of the television. “You promised to watch a ‘Merry Country Christmas’ with me. I love satellite television. Will we have this in the Palace?”

One of the perks of becoming the official heiress presumptive was the installation of a satellite on top of the hotel for Renee’s viewing pleasure. No more dependency on a few channels.

“Who says you’re living with me in the Palace?” muttered Renee, feeling let down. She was jittery with excitement, but with no outlet. The image of Simon Coakely flitted across her mind. Perhaps he’d be up for a drink. No. It was Christmas Eve. He was probably home in some grand manor with his family sipping mulled wine or sitting around a fireplace with stylish friends dressed in fabulously expensive cashmere sweaters. She wanted to wish a Merry Christmas to Chase, but she hadn’t seen him since he had appeared with the evidence against Bretton.

The Magna Carta had been recovered in a boat down the Thames, but there was no trace of Bretton. It made her uneasy to know that he was still out there; She was certain he would stake his claim to the throne even from the gallows. She had no right to call Chase. He had barely looked at her when presenting the evidence against Bretton and now he was leading the manhunt against him.

Roberts closed his folder. “Everything is all done. Tomorrow will be the most magnificent coronation in history. A Christmas coronation, just think of it! If only we could have got the elephants from India, though! But the Lord Mayor wouldn’t allow it. Ah, well, three-hundred tartaned clansmen and a thousand cavalry will have to do. Oh, and we can’t forget the cowboys. This will definitely be a first. I do hope they don’t get too rowdy. And did they really have to keep their guns? It was like SALT II trying to get the authorities to approve a waiver for them to bring their guns into the country.”

Renee smiled. A contingent of Texas Rangers had volunteered to ride honor guard, which the royal household and government had immediately vetoed, but at Renee’s insistence, they had been allowed to bring up the rear of the royal procession with the Texas and American flags, and pistols at their sides. It was important to her to pay homage to her roots.

There was a knock on the door.

“Right on time,” said Roberts, looking at his watch.

Renee couldn’t imagine who it could be.

Roberts opened the door and a tall, white haired man with an American flag pin on his lapel walked in.

“Mr. Ambassador!” said Renee.

“Ms. Krebs,
er
, Your Highness. On behalf of the United States of America, I congratulate you and wish you a long and successful reign. You’ll forgive me if I do not bow.”

“You wouldn’t be a proper American if you did,” said Renee and held out her hand, which the Ambassador shook warmly.

“We’ve squared it with the IRS and Social Security that you will no longer be making payments, but there is one last piece of business that we must take care of.”

Renee looked at him blankly.

“Your passport.”

Renee jumped out of her frozen state. “Oh! Of course.” She scurried to her room, flustered, and found the passport at the bottom of her sock drawer, and returned to the ambassador. She ran her thumb over the embossed eagle on the front cover. Giving up the passport was like giving up who she was and absolutely nothing—not her coronation dress, not the passage of the Bill of Succession, and not the arrival of two men in her Texas town with an unbelievable tale that she was the next queen of England—nothing brought home the reality of the situation as the moment when she handed over her passport forever. A large lump in her throat prevented her from speaking or otherwise marking the momentous occasion as she watched the passport get zipped into a diplomatic pouch.

“What will happen to it?” asked Renee.

“Well, normally, expired or returned passports get destroyed”—and seeing Renee’s stricken face, hastened to add—“but in this case we will make an exception. I swear to you that we will keep it safe.” He bent down and whispered in Renee’s ear, “You will always have a home with us.”

Renee crumpled into his arms and clung to him, the last link to her home country. The ambassador patted her on the back, seeming to understand her emotions. Audrey came over and gently extracted her. Renee was embarrassed to see that the Ambassador’s suit was damp from her tears and wet nose.

“Thank you,” said Renee, wiping her red eyes. “God bless America.”

The Ambassador nodded and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, clearly emotional himself, and then, knowing he should do something, but not wanting to bow as Americans did not recognize the superiority of royalty, he saluted Renee and then walked stiffly out of the hotel suite, the diplomatic pouch containing her passport in his hand.

“Well, that’s that. I’m a Brit now,” said Renee, wiping her eyes.“Don’t expect me to eat your food, though.”

“No worries. The British don’t even eat British food,” said Audrey. “It’s all about curry now.”

The ornate telephone rang and Roberts answered. He sighed. “Yes, patch him through. Ma’am, this call is for you.”

Renee had an idea of who it might be and put the phone to her ear. “Yes?”

Ray’s voice crackled through the line. “Hey there, Darlin’. We’ve got unfinished business. I can come back as many times as it takes. All I’ve got to do is sign.”

“So why don’t you?” said Renee. She was thoroughly sick of him.

“We need to discuss what you are going to give me in exchange for my signature. You could be a free woman, Renee. You play fair with me and I’ll play fair with you.”

Renee considered him for a moment. “I bought a jar of Nutella before I left. It’s probably still in the cabinet. You can have my half. Fair’s fair.”

“Bitch,” he spat. “I’m going to take you to court. You abandoned the marriage. Half of your assets are mine.”

“Then I’ll see you in court. I’ve got more important things to do right now,” she said and slammed the phone down.

Renee felt drained from the encounter with Ray. He was the final loose end, but she couldn’t just snip him off like an irritating thread.

Cassandra had gone to stand by the window.

“I’m sorry, honey,” said Renee.

Cassandra shrugged and went back to looking out the window. “Look, they’re bringing lawn chairs and sitting on the sidewalk under blankets,” she said, pointing.

“On Christmas Eve? It’s snowing!” said Renee.

Audrey joined them by the window. “It’s a tradition to camp out before a big royal event. They’ll drink hot cider and sing songs all night so that they can see you go by tomorrow. I did the same thing when the Queen’s niece got married. It’s a lot of fun to wear a big floppy hat with the Union Jack on it, probably the only time we can express our patriotism without feeling too ridiculous. As long as it’s done ironically, it’s okay.”

The streets were filling up quickly and it seemed as if the Union Jack had exploded across the entire street. Renee saw many of the flag patterned hats that Audrey described as well as scarves, banners, flags draped across laps like blankets, and funny large glasses that seemed to have been left over from the last Olympic Games. It was becoming a sea of blue, white, and red. Renee caught herself automatically turning the order into red, white, and blue. A feeling of loss ached at her heart.

Roberts joined them at the window. “You know, this reminds me very much of when we won the war. The streets were filled like this and everyone was singing.”

“Good God, are you really that old?” exclaimed Audrey.

Roberts ignored her. “The streets kept filling with people until I thought they would burst and everyone was in such a jolly mood. The Queen—she was a princess then—thought it would be good fun to go out among the people to join in the celebrations. She and her cousins wore hats pulled down low to disguise themselves and we went out and stayed out all night. Everyone was so happy and singing.” His eyes looked far away and he smiled at the memory.

Excitement took hold of Renee. “Let’s do that!”

“Do what?” said Roberts, coming back from the distant memory he had been immersed in.

“Let’s go out in disguise and mingle. It will be so much fun and I’m going crazy cooped up in here,” said Renee.

Roberts looked perturbed. “I really don’t think—Not safe.”

“Oh, come on, Roberts! You just told me that you and the royals slipped out.”

“Times were different then,” he said.

“Or maybe you were different then,” said Renee. Roberts looked offended so she added, “It’s important for me to
meet the people
and to understand
the national mood
. What better time to do that than now?”

He continued to look doubtful. Renee couldn’t believe that she was about to be crowned the monarch and she had to beg permission to walk out of her door. But she knew that Roberts was only thinking of what was best for her so finally she said, “Harry will go with us. It will be perfectly safe; nobody’s expecting me to be out anyways. And you’ll be there. What could go wrong with you there?” Renee felt a little guilty appealing to his vanity, but she really wanted to go.

“I suppose if you take Harry….”

“Thanks!” said Renee, not waiting for him to change his mind or finish his sentence.

She and Audrey immediately put their heads together to try to figure out how they could get Renee down to the street unseen and disguised. It was decided that Audrey would go out and pick up some British flag paraphernalia of the type currently in fashion on the street below. “The tackier the better,” said Renee with shining eyes. Audrey left and returned a half hour later with an enormous shopping bag.

“The souvenir shops are still open, doing big business. They’ll probably be open all night and tomorrow. Look what I got us.”

She spread everything out on a table. There was a tall, bear fur hat of the type worn by the Palace Guards, which she made Roberts try on to everyone’s enormous amusement. He looked murderous under the black fibers that nearly hid his eyes. There were also some glitter-covered bowler hats in the national colors and even a cowboy hat with a Union Jack pattern. There was a yellow crown made of felt. “Here, try it on,” said Audrey to Renee, who immediately complied. “Your Majesty,” said a giggling Audrey and curtsied. There were several scarves, various buttons, and a t-shirt with a picture of Renee’s face on it that said God Save the Queen. Renee thought it would be funny to wear it, but both Audrey and Roberts vetoed that idea—“The idea is to blend in, not announce yourself,” said Audrey—as well as a banner with the royal emblem on it, a pinwheel, some traditional rosettes, and several pairs of the funny, large glasses they had seen earlier. One of them even lit up in different colors when a tiny switch was flicked. “Those are mine,” said Audrey, and put them on her face. The tiny red lights lit up her flame red hair.

They got down to the business of deciding who would wear what. Roberts removed the furry hat with as much dignity as he could muster and selected a simple Union Jack button, but Audrey kept the glasses, added a rosette and a glitter hat. Renee also put on one of the glittering bowler hats and draped a Union Jack scarf around her neck. She topped the getup with a pair of the glasses. “Do you recognize me?” she asked. “Not a bit,” said Audrey.“And you can even pull the scarf up over your face if you’re worried about being recognized since it’s so cold out.”