Being Margaret, page 13
part #4 of British Royals Series
“It’s not, Margaret.”
“Of course it is.”
“No. We need you. Britain needs you.” And it did. It needed both Margaret and Emma, each special and inspiring in her own way.
“Well, what about my needs?” Margaret said. “My wants? I’m thirty-six years old. I refuse to let my mother control my affairs for one second more than necessary. I want someone who’s my equal to do it, someone who won’t pity me and baby me.”
“Is that why you’re marrying Tessa?”
“Part of it, yes. We’re also good together. I love her.”
My appointments for the next few days crowded together in the calendar of my mind: Appearance this, appearance that, hospital, primary school, science centre, la da da. Nothing about meeting with my sister so she could marry a woman.
“No,” I said. “Permission denied. Call me when you sober up, Tessa.”
After hanging up, I called Treadie. He refused to apologise for keeping quiet about Margaret being with Tessa. “They’re both adults, Kath,” he said in an exasperating voice. “They deserve to live their lives without you and me interfering.”
Oh, I was furious. I eventually did forgive him but only after seeing how happy Margaret was.
Chapter Eleven
Margaret stood in the shower, rinsing off the scents of sex with Tessa. She hated to do it, but they could have sex again that night and make new smells, new memories.
She touched her fingers to her lips, inhaled the scent of Tessa on her and smiled. If she were fully functional, she’d grab onto the shower bars and do a little happy dance. She did it in her mind instead, not wanting to risk a colossal fall. Grab bars weren’t 100 percent.
Tessa had said yes! And them together was incredible, far better than anything with Adam and Alec. Alec had been great, but she hadn’t felt comfortable asking to do things to him—nor was she sure she wanted to.
Tessa let Margaret do a lot to her.
Tessa did a lot to her too, and it was so…good. So damn good. Perfect.
After the shower, Margaret blow dried her hair and brushed her teeth.
Dinner with Treadie and his boyfriend. It should be fun, but in a way, she wanted to curl up with Tessa, have more sex and enjoy her. Oh well. They had the rest of their lives for that, and Treadie and Josh were great guys.
In fact, they were exactly the kind of men she would be lucky to marry. Take Treadie, the former college basketball star. Tall, dark-haired, intense and insecure in his own way, angsty but goofy, he could’ve easily fit into one of her “husband” slots. Instead, he’d been instrumental in helping her solidify her relationship with Tessa.
“Hey,” he’d said after showing up at The Mark that first time. He cocked his head just so and held his hand out to Margaret after John let him in. “I’m Treadie. Katharine sent me.”
For a slight second, Margaret’s knees went wobbly at the vivid blue of his eyes, but she turned and she looked at Tessa.
No contest. She wanted this woman.
“Treadie,” Tessa said. “Hello. It’s nice to see you again.”
The three of them talked for an hour turning into two. He was easy to talk to. Tessa and Margaret didn’t hold hands or touch or anything like that in front of him, but he must have picked up on the vibes between the two of them.
Margaret knew that Tessa liked her, could love her very soon, but at this point, Tessa was fucking her because it was fun, because Tessa was tired of being a straitlaced detective who played by the rules. She wanted to live in castles, she wanted glam, she wanted to travel the world. She wanted to do something stupid and adventurous for once in her life, and Margaret seemed like a good person to do it with. Neither she nor Margaret could tell Treadie that, and he only smiled when it became apparent that Margaret would spend most of her nights with Tessa instead of at Treadie’s place.
Over the next few months, Treadie came out to them and introduced them to his boyfriend, Josh. Margaret started taking Tessa’s hand in front of him, in front of them, and Treadie and Josh acted like it was the most normal thing in the world.
When Margaret and Tessa became engaged, Treadie was the first person Margaret called. When she returned home to their apartment the next morning, he swept her into his arms and congratulated her.
And then there was the call to Katharine informing her. Margaret hadn’t expected her sister to be over the moon, and the call had gone about as well as it could have.
Margaret had left London intending to stay for at least a few months in New York, and she’d gotten her few months in. It was time to return with her future wife.
**
Logistics were all Tessa could think about when Margaret discussed booking their flight to London. Tessa’s job. Should she quit sooner rather than later? Tomorrow? What about her nonexistent savings? Where would they live? Telling Tessa’s family.
Better than thinking about the horrible call with Katharine. After the queen hung up, Tessa and Margaret sat in a sort of uncomfortable silence until Margaret whispered, “Kiss me,” into Tessa’s ear, and the world came into focus again. Mostly, anyway, because their engagement had yet to feel fully real. The call to Katharine even had a feel of playacting. Tessa wished she could simply go with the flow and enjoy herself, but she’d never been wired that way.
“You’ll need rings,” Treadie said the morning of their flight out. “Before you fly to London.”
Rings. Yes. A ring on her finger would help. A ring would make this engagement feel more real, more genuine. Tessa and Margaret had been watching a movie on TV, a comedy, lots of curse words and dirty jokes in it, nothing romantic, definitely not a cheesy romantic film, but midway through, Tessa had turned to see Margaret crying.
“I’m happy,” Margaret explained. “And I’d really like to marry you, Tessa.” She got down on her knees and grasped Tessa’s hand. “Please, will you marry me?” Margaret didn’t have a ring. She’d proposed on the spur of the moment. She didn’t have anything but herself, and that was all Tessa needed to say yes.
Could Tessa and Margaret somehow get their hands on two rings in the next couple of hours before the airport?
“I got a ring for your sister,” Treadie told Margaret. “Ages ago, in college. I saw it and knew it was perfect. I also knew it would be a while before she was ready for me to propose, but I bought it anyway.”
Tessa remembered Treadie telling her about it. He’d been so determined to marry Katharine.
“I took it out after you called to say you were engaged,” Treadie continued. “It’s beautiful, it really is, and it’s been sitting in a box all these years. I’ve realized that…” He cleared his throat. “I’m finally over her. I used to still think about her some nights, you know? It’s pathetic, but when you’re a guy like me, a gay guy with the parents I have…she’s the only woman I could see myself with. I really wanted to marry her. It would’ve kept my life neat and perfect and intact.”
“Or maybe you always knew she was unobtainable, and that messed with your mind,” Tessa suggested. “It made you want her more.”
Treadie gave her a lopsided grin. “Hey, be nice. Play along. I’m offering you two a ring if you want it to tide you over. It’s a good ring. I don’t do small and cheap.” He drew a black box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a stunning emerald. It would’ve gone beautifully with Katharine’s blond hair, but it would also be lovely with Tessa’s red hair.
Margaret seemed smitten with it too. “I’d marry it,” she whispered.
Treadie shrugged. “Like I said, something to tide you two over until you get the rings that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, or maybe you already have plans for that.”
“No,” Margaret said. “We haven’t talked about rings yet, and this is a real ring, Treadie. Any woman, even the queen of England, would be lucky to wear it. Let’s see who it fits.”
On Margaret, the ring was slightly too loose. On Tessa, it fit perfectly. She held it up and admired the sparkle of the emerald. She and Treadie had sat in a dorm room sixteen or seventeen years ago talking about this ring, and now she wore it. Treadie’s ring, Katharine’s ring, Margaret’s ring, Tessa’s ring.
“Seems meant to be, hmm?” Treadie said with a smile. “Will you let me know something, though? Tell me how Katharine likes it. I’ve always been curious to find out. Don’t tell her it’s from me.”
After he left, Tessa pulled Margaret to her and kissed her hard. They were engaged. This really was going to happen.
**
There was still the matter of a ring for Margaret to wear, but they decided that Tessa’s was enough for now. They landed in London, and Margaret’s stomach kept doing somersaults.
She’d have to see her mother. What would that meeting be like? They hadn’t talked since before Margaret left for New York. Margaret had been surprised, even hurt, that Amalia stayed away. However, Amalia had obviously put two and two together owing to the presence of Tessa Donovan.
Since Tessa told Margaret that Amalia killed Henry, a sort of numbness filled Margaret. Logic told her that her mother disgusted her, that she hated Amalia.
Her heart still loved the woman, but it wanted to understand. It needed to understand.
In any case, Margaret and Tessa walked hand-in-hand through the airport after their flight as the engaged couple they were. Around her, Margaret was acutely aware of whispers like: Is that Her Royal Highness? Fuck, look, Princess Margaret! She’s been in New York, hasn’t she? Who is she with? She’s holding hands with a woman! Oh God, not another lezzie.
She tried to focus on walking. She needed to save as much energy as she could for the hours to come and not waste precious mental space trying to care what people said. Her cane was packed away because with Tessa holding her hand, she didn’t need one. Another reason having a wife was better than having a sister run her affairs.
**
“Kensington, ma’am?” John asked as he fired up the town car.
“Yes.”
Soon enough, the car pulled up to the palace, to the wing where Margaret had her rooms. It was early evening, May, and like Margaret never left. Then she looked at the woman with her, and she smiled. Everything had changed.
Holding hands, they entered the palace. Margaret wondered if Katharine had told Emma or Amalia about the engagement. She must have told Veronica. You told your wife things.
“Ma’am,” said one of the security officers inside. His name was Yules. He was a decent sort. Margaret liked him better than she liked John and Sasha.
“Come here,” Margaret whispered, pulling Tessa.
“Yules,” she said, “I’d like you to meet Tessa, my fiancee.”
Yules was like one of the Buckingham Palace guards. Nothing fazed him. “Oh!” he said, expressing pleasure even if he felt shock. “Is that right, ma’am? Lovely!”
“Thank you,” Margaret said, her heart fit to burst as Tessa shook hands with Yules. She’d dreamed of falling in love, of finding the one, and here she was.
After they left Yules, Tessa grinned, her eyes shining, and took in the palace, the grand staircases, the art hundreds of years old, all the things she no doubt looked at two years ago with Emma and now maybe she was seeing it as home. Something close to home, anyway.
Emma must have been told of their arrival because Margaret’s younger sister rounded the opposite corner of the corridor leading to Margaret’s apartments at the same time that Margaret and Tessa rounded their corner.
A second later, Margaret saw Emma wasn’t alone. She was with Katharine.
**
Tessa’s head churned. After leaving Emma two years ago, Tessa had to dig deep inside herself to ignore Emma’s attempts to get back in touch. She found consolation in one thing: She’d never have to see the princess again, never have to look into her blue eyes again and gaze at these lips that caressed her own, that sucked at her breasts. Why would she?
Except they were about to meet again and under extraordinary circumstances.
“Your Majesty,” Tessa said, bowing her head. “Your Royal Highness.” The ring felt heavy and substantial on her finger.
“Detective Donovan,” Emma spoke. Both she and Katharine wore gloves, the kind they greeted members of the public with. It cut down on germs. Were they trying to send Tessa a message, that she belonged on the outside?
You’re reading too much into it.
Tessa smiled what she hoped was a warm smile and held her hand out.
Katharine and Emma saw the ring. Something flickered in Katharine’s eyes, and for Treadie’s sake, Tessa attributed it to jealousy that it wasn’t her ring, she loved it that much on sight.
“Margaret,” Emma said. Katharine still hadn’t spoken. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Margaret let out a little laugh. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m in love! I’m getting married!”
“Margaret, stop,” Katharine said, anger in her voice. “And you, Tessa, stop. What are you trying to pull?”
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Margaret commanded. “Show her respect. And show me respect. I have done nothing all my life but show you respect, Katharine. When you came out, I was by your side. I stood up for you. I supported you even though I was fighting health battles of my own. When you became queen and flew home, I curtsied. I showed you respect when no one else was inclined to. I set the tone. I know that I am thirty-six years old and I can’t fully be in control of my affairs because no matter how much I recover, my mind may always have a mind of its own. It could cause me to act badly or impulsively or stupidly at any time or cause me to forget important things, and no one wants me gambling away our artwork or millions of dollars, but you will show me respect, and you will show my fiancee respect. I am competent in this moment, I have been more competent and more aware of what’s really going on than I have been in months and years, and I am going to marry my wife whether you like it or not. Whether you give your queenly permission or not.”
What a turn on. Tessa had chosen well.
Katharine shrunk. So did Emma. Margaret was the one in charge now, and she said, “I’m feeling peckish. You can join me and Tessa for a snack, but you have to behave.”
“Yes,” Emma said. “Yes, yes, of course.” She stared at her sister as if Margaret had suddenly grown five feet. In a way, she had.
“Hug her,” Margaret commanded Emma.
“Hug—okay.” Emma clearly didn’t want to, but she pasted on a smile. She put her arms out and she hugged Tessa long enough for it to count. Tessa was glad that her body didn’t react. Margaret’s fiery speech and hot kisses tended to erase the memories of Emma.
“Now you,” Margaret said, eyes narrowed at Katharine.
Katharine opened her mouth. She almost, almost argued, but something made her stop. She held her arms out, leaving Tessa to do most of the work. Fine. Tessa would take it. She stepped into Katharine’s embrace, and it was Margaret’s sister who deepened the hug and made it real.
**
“Look,” Emma said after the four of them had suffered through a few obligatory sips of tea and a nibble or two of biscuits. She addressed Margaret: “It’s not the fact that you’re engaged or that we think you’re incompetent. It’s that this came of the blue. We would be this same level of surprised no matter who it was. We have to make sure we marry the right people.”
Margaret had to smile. “I recall Katharine bawling you out for becoming engaged after a day or two. Oh, dear. We both made Katharine mad.”
Emma and Katharine pursed their lips, not enjoying the reminder.
“I disapproved of Emma’s engagement because I saw no foundation for it. Emma and Cheryl barely knew each other. They met. They got engaged the very next day! You, Margaret, you’ve known Tessa for, what, six months?”
“Six months is sufficient time,” Margaret said. “Six months is not two days.” The teacup in her hand would look good flung against the wall. Her body trembled, and she fought to place the cup back neatly instead of give into childish impulses.
“You like men,” Katharine said. “Let’s start with that.”
An uncomfortable giggle from Emma.
Margaret recalled the tilt of Treadie’s handsome head, Alec shirtless, Alec raking his hand through his luxurious hair, Adam’s jawbones and beautiful soft eyes. But these men didn’t matter because she had Tessa.
“I do not have to justify myself or my sexual orientation or any goddamn thing,” Margaret said. “You of all people should know that.”
“I do,” Katharine said quietly. “It’s just that…the three of us? You, me and Emma, all married to women. You were supposed to be the one who got a Prince Charming. The one who would make it more acceptable for Emma and me to be gay.”
Frustration caused Margaret to dig her fingernails into her skin. “You know who you sound like? You sound like Mum many years ago. I was shot in the head, Katharine, and for many years of my life, I’ve been at the level of a toddler. I’ve made a life for myself now. I want to get married, but how far I’ve come doesn’t matter. It’s the fact I’m marrying a woman that’s getting all the attention.”
“Part of it really is the time thing,” Katharine had the gall to say. “Six months.”
“Oh, come on!”
“Let me finish. Tessa has never seen you in a bad spell.”
“I hope to never have one again.”
“Of course, but what if you do?” Katharine’s gaze flickered to Tessa. “Could you handle it if she starts forgetting who you are or if she starts sucking her thumb again?”
“Jesus, Katharine. You don’t have to embarrass me like this. Why bring up the thumb sucking?”
“Because it’s information Tessa needs to know. She needs to know what she is getting into.”
