Being Margaret, page 9
part #4 of British Royals Series
She returned her attention to the dancers and gaped as her elder sister lost herself in the dance, in Treadie, in his arms. She trusted him to lift her and catch her and take care of her.
She was skilled and good and beautiful, Katharine was, and so was he. Blissfully happy, the both of them, confident and sharp.
“Where’s Veronica?” Margaret wondered.
“Oh, I’m sure she’s close by.”
The song ended, and raucous applause filled the room. A new song filled the air, and people started pairing off and dancing.
“Should we—I mean, should we—” Margaret swallowed.
“We don’t have to.”
“Can I dance well with the cane?”
Luckily, a sweaty Katharine and Treadie saved the moment. “Margaret!” Treadie cried, pulling her to him. “You came.”
“Of course I did. Well done, both of you up there. And congratulations, Treadie.”
Margaret caught the hopeful gaze on Katharine’s face. Perhaps Katharine thought Margaret had her memory, but Tessa shook her head in a jerky, almost unnoticeable, “No,” and Margaret tried to ignore it, tried to ignore that these people had their own communiques and language under the surface of Margaret’s life.
She also tried to ignore the glint of dismay in Katharine’s eyes at Tessa’s, “No.”
Fuck them. Fuck them all.
Cool it. Calm down. It’s Treadie’s reception. “Excuse me,” Margaret said. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Me too,” Katharine said, linking arms with her. “Come on.”
**
Katharine led Margaret to a private bathroom and locked the door behind them.
“I don’t really have to go,” Margaret muttered. “I said I did because I was getting mad.”
“I figured,” Katharine said. “Come here. Look.” She slung her arm around Margaret and coaxed her to the mirror. “Look at us.”
Margaret forced her gaze to the mirror. Beautiful blond Katharine with her dimples and her, brown-haired Margaret. They both looked like normal women with normal brains. Well, one of them was right in the head anyway.
Katharine turned Margaret so they faced each other. “I’m sorry for the situation. For everything,” Katharine whispered, placing her hands on Margaret’s waist.
“I overreacted.”
Katharine sighed. “Will you kiss her?”
“What? You mean on the mouth?”
“Wherever. When you go back out, kiss her somewhere. She could use something.”
“She’s beautiful. She’s very beautiful, Katharine, but I don’t remember our history!”
“Do you trust me, Margaret?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Please believe me when I tell you that you love her, you really do, you love her very much and next month or two months from now or next year when your memory is back, you’ll wish you had kissed and touched her during this time because then maybe she wouldn’t be slipping away like you slipped from her.”
“You think she is?”
“Yes.”
Margaret swallowed. “I don’t know how to kiss. Alec and I didn’t really do that, and as for Adam, he used too much tongue. He was too wet. I didn’t like to kiss him much.”
“It doesn’t need to be elaborate. Something simple and quick on the mouth and a squeeze of her hand or shoulder.”
“I don’t know.”
“Follow my lead. We’ll find Veronica first. Copy with Tessa what I do with Veronica. All right?”
“Okay.”
Katharine hugged Margaret. “Let’s go.”
Tessa was talking with Veronica and a few people Margaret didn’t recognize when she and Katharine found them. Katharine approached Veronica from the back. She wrapped her arms around her wife’s midsection and kissed her on the neck. “Hey, love,” Katharine said. “Wanna dance?”
Oh God oh God. Margaret’s heart hammered, and Katharine gave her a meaningful look as she and Veronica walked away.
Margaret didn’t know these other people with her and Tessa. What if they…ohhh. She hated this. She hated being Margaret.
“Margaret,” Tessa said. “This is Bradley Whittaker. You and I met him at the homeless children fundraiser last month.”
“Yes,” Margaret lied. “Of course! How are you, Bradley?”
**
A few minutes later, Margaret excused herself to check on the baby. “I’ll be right back,” she promised Tessa.
Margaret went over to Phil and asked for the phone. She typed into Safari, “Princess Margaret Tessa Donovan.”
She clicked on a random result, which led to the official announcement of their engagement:
A statement from Their Majesties:
Their Majesties are delighted to announce the engagement of Princess Margaret to Ms. Tessa Donovan. The wedding will take place in the fall of this year. Further details will be released in due course.
Her Royal Highness and Ms. Donovan became engaged earlier this month. The couple will live at Kensington Palace.
Margaret switched to “images” and scrolled through numerous pictures of her and Tessa smiling and holding hands and laughing. They looked happy and very much in love. Same as they had in the three-ring binder.
Margaret struggled for a memory. Something. Anything.
She found the royal family’s official website and navigated to the link for “HRH the Countess of Wessex.”
Tessa’s smiling, glowing face greeted Margaret. She sat at an oval table and seemed to be doing craft projects with older people.
Her Royal Highness the Countess of Wessex, born Tessa Donovan, married Princess Margaret at St George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle. The princesses have one son, Prince Henry. The couple's official residence is Kensington Palace. The Countess undertakes royal duties in support of the Queen, both in the UK and overseas. She also devotes her time to supporting a number of charities and organisations.
Margaret skipped to the section marked “Career.”
Her Royal Highness joined the New York City police department after obtaining her associate degree. For a time, she served as one of the Queen’s bodyguards when she attended Purcell College as crown princess. Her Royal Highness subsequently earned a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice and a master’s degree in law enforcement and public safety. She worked as a detective when she became engaged to Princess Margaret. She has extensive experience in drug crimes and cold cases.
The next section was “Charitable Work.” Margaret pressed the back arrow and found her own page, “HRH the Duchess of Wessex.”
Princess Margaret, Duchess of Wessex, is second in line to the throne and the second child of His Majesty King Henry and Her Majesty Queen Amalia. Her Royal Highness married Tessa Donovan at St George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle. They have one son, Prince Henry...
Still no memories, and Margaret looked up to see Treadie in the distance laughing with a group of men. She typed in the phrase, “Treadie Princess Margaret walk down aisle.” She clicked on the first result, a video.
A zoom-in on a car making its way down a street and under the arch leading to the chapel. Margaret saw herself and Treadie in the car and waving to the people lined up. Hmm. At least the masses seemed comparable to those who turned out for Emma’s and Katharine’s weddings.
The car rolled up to the exasperatingly high staircase leading into St. George’s Chapel, and Margaret held her breath. The rehearsals for Emma’s wedding had been stressful. Margaret refused to go through the other entrance that would be much easier and that guests and old people used. She wasn’t old! So, she was driven to the castle once a day. She practiced several times daily making her way up that staircase alone and without a cane like a regular maid of honor would. No go. She ended up being escorted by her cousin William, one of Josephine’s sons.
At least she’d glided down the aisle beautifully and alone.
Still holding her breath, Margaret watched a black-suited man hurry to open the car door. He helped her out, and she took a few steps forward. Treadie, handsome in his suit, worked with the man and another woman to arrange her train. It seemed impossibly long and dangerous, but Margaret ascended the first portion of the staircase just fine and by herself, as Emma had. Then, like Edward did with Emma, Treadie and Margaret linked arms to progress to the top. Not once did they have to stop. Edward and Emma had to stop once when she stumbled slightly.
Not Margaret and Treadie. Margaret looked normal! You wouldn’t know she often walked with a cane, and pride swelled inside her.
Okay, fine. Treadie, a man Margaret had no recollection of meeting and who was her sister’s ex-boyfriend, did walk her up the stairs and down the aisle. She hoped it hadn’t been because Edward was fed up at the prospect of having to do a third lesbian wedding. But, no. Margaret and Treadie began down the aisle, and as if on cue, the camera showed Edward with his wife. Both smiled and looked happy.
Margaret wanted to watch the rest of the progression down the aisle, but she had been on the phone long enough. She checked the baby’s video feed, and the nurse was giving him a bottle. Margaret handed John the phone back and said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Certainly, ma’am.”
“Are we really married?” Margaret whispered, suddenly wondering if the search results and footage were an elaborate joke put on for some reason. “Me and Tessa?”
He looked dumbfounded. She hoped he would crack up in the next second and say, “Ah, you got us! We’ve been playing a prank.” But he only regained his placid expression. “Ma’am,” he said. “You and the countess are indeed married and extremely happy together.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Margaret’s gaze found Tessa across the room. A flock of admirers surrounded her, and she was good at smiling and laughing with them.
Margaret shouldn’t have come. She should have allowed Tessa her night out. She wanted to finish watching the wedding video and bask in the familiar routines, even if the person who walked her down the aisle and the person she married were strangers.
“John,” she said. “Can you get the car ready? I’m leaving in a few minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “My name is Phil, by the way.”
“Phil. Got it. I’m going to say goodbye to a few people.”
“Tessa?” Margaret said a few moments later, interrupting a lively conversation among Tessa and four people. All five of them stood confidently and looked like models, slim and toned and strong and laughing.
“Margaret!” two of the people exclaimed.
Margaret shot them smiles. “Oh, lovely to see you! Great necklace. Can I borrow Tessa for a moment?”
“Excuse me,” Tessa said, breaking apart from the group. She and Margaret found a nearby quiet spot.
“I’m leaving,” Margaret said. “I want you to have fun tonight, and you won’t if I’m around.”
Dismay in her pretty eyes. Or maybe it was excitement. Margaret imagined Tessa disappearing into a back room with a sexy young man or woman. A flare of jealousy streaked through her like a lightning bolt, hurting down to her toes. Margaret hoped it meant that feelings of love lurked around the corner.
“Stay,” Tessa said.
“It’s loud and crowded and overwhelming. I can’t.”
“Okay,” Tessa said, smiling a nursemaid smile. “We’ll both go.”
“I want you to stay and have fun.”
“Let’s head outside for a minute first.” Tessa led her through a small side door into a courtyard where a group of people smoked. Other than the smokers, they were alone, and Tessa guided Margaret as far from the entrance as possible.
“What are we doing?” Margaret asked.
“I wanted a minute before you left. I should have done this at home. It just…you seemed especially repulsed when you came into the nursery this afternoon.”
“I wasn’t repulsed. Very surprised is all.”
“I know, but your surprise makes me feel like…” She shook her head. “We’re getting off track. Can I have a hug before you go?”
“Yes.”
Tessa wrapped her arms around Margaret and showed no sign of releasing her anytime soon. The feel of her was firm, her breasts pressed into Margaret’s, and she smelled of many things: booze, perfume, flowers, cologne, the scents that gather at wedding receptions.
Margaret allowed herself to relax and to sink into Tessa’s touch. Then she realized Tessa was crying. Alarmed, Margaret drew back.
“I’m sorry.” Tessa wiped at her eyes. “I miss you. That’s all. You can go now.”
“I’ll stay.”
“No. Go. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“In the morning? Not tonight when you get home?”
“I can if you want.”
“I do. I think.”
Tessa smiled. “Okay. I will get in bed with you, but I might be in late.” She yawned. “Although maybe not.”
“That’s fine. Whatever time you get in. Will my memory be gone in the morning or if you wake me up when you get home?”
“Probably not. It’s the afternoon naps that do you in.”
Chapter Nine
Several years earlier, Margaret fell asleep on Tessa’s couch for the first of what would be many naps, and she awoke hours later. She wanted a shower, and afterward, she came into the living room wearing nothing but her teal towel despite the pajamas Tessa put out on her bed.
Tessa’s body reacted, and she forced her gaze to stay level on Margaret’s face. No dipping to look at her cleavage or legs, no, no. It was bad enough having to look at her slicked-back wet hair, collarbone and bare neck.
“Hey!” Tessa said, covering up her discomfort. “How was the shower?”
“Wonderful,” Margaret said. “Thank you.”
“Need anything?”
“Yes. I think it’s called…hair dryer?” Margaret formed an “L” with her hand and imitated blowing her hair dry.
“Yes, hair dryer. Sure.” Tessa jumped up from the couch and retrieved the dryer from below her bathroom sink. “I do it in the bedroom. There’s more room that way.”
They moved to the bedroom, and Tessa wasn’t sure why she stayed, but she did, and she watched Margaret blow dry her hair, snuck plenty of looks at her neck and legs and backside and…well. It was nice having a semi-naked woman in her apartment again even if nothing would happen or could happen.
The Chinese food arrived, and they ate and watched a silly comedy. Being with Margaret was easy. She was funny, had a quirky perspective on life unlike anything Tessa had experienced, and she was stunningly smart. Brilliant. Sure, in a few ways, her issues were obvious, but everyone had issues. Everyone!
They retreated to Tessa’s bedroom about eight-thirty when John and Sasha moved in for the night. Margaret didn’t appear tired, nor did Tessa feel tired. John and Sasha seemed about ready to keel over, though.
“I feel bad,” Margaret said again, surveying the air mattress next to Tessa’s bed. “You should let me sleep on the mattress. I’ve intruded.”
“We’ll decide later,” Tessa said. “Do you want to read the story Katharine and I wrote? Play cards or Scrabble?”
A devilish glimmer came into Margaret’s eyes. “We should sneak out after John and Sasha fall asleep.”
“Margaret!” Tessa had to laugh.
“I’m serious. They won’t see it coming, and we’ll be back before they wake up.”
“If you get caught, you will never have an alone moment again. Security will breathe down your neck always.”
“Nah. I’ve done a few runners. After a week or two, the guards lapse back into thinking I’m weak and helpless.”
“Oh, Margaret.”
“It’s worth it,” Margaret said. “If I can get one night of freedom.”
“Where would you want to go?”
“Different places. A dance club. Your favorite bar. Oh, and college,” Margaret said. “We could go to the library and study. I’ve always wanted to go to college.”
“Okay,” Tessa said, unsure what she’d stepped into. “Studying. That’s certainly something to do on a Saturday night. Well, uh…hmm. No calculus, though?” she teased.
“Yes, calculus. Why not? Please?” Margaret said, getting a strange, desperate, pleading look in her eyes. “I’d like to go somewhere with a friend and not have bodyguards along. I know we’re not friends, you’re a detective and I’m a killer, but we can be friends for tonight, can’t we?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I think I’m not going home,” Margaret whispered. “Not for a while. I need to find myself and learn who I am and figure out what I’m doing about my father’s death. Will you help me?”
No. I’ve spent the past sixteen years trying to forget that your lot exists.
“Yes,” Tessa said. How could anyone say no to Margaret? They’d have this one night together, and undoubtedly, reality would crash back in for Margaret tomorrow. A princess, the second-in-line to the throne, couldn’t up and abscond her duties, especially with the mother she had. Especially with a tiny child the only person standing between her and the crown. In fact, Tessa wondered sometimes if Katharine married Veronica and birthed Alexander so that Margaret wouldn’t be forced to become queen one day.
They waited until ten p.m. and snuck out under the cover of darkness in Tessa’s living room. It was thrilling, Tessa sneaking out of her own apartment, and it made her feel edgy, not like a boring detective approaching middle age. Okay, already in middle age. Young middle age!
The many hours of sleep had re-energized Margaret, plus going down exerted less strength than going up. Within ten minutes, they were in the lobby of Tessa’s building.
“I’ll order an Uber,” Tessa said.
“No, I want to hail a cab the old-fashioned way. Let me do it.”
The air hung heavy with recent rain, and it smelled different than it had the night before. It whispered of adventure and possibility. Tessa gazed around her, her gun secure in its holster. Across the street, a woman in a short skirt argued with a man in business clothes. Other than them, she and Margaret seemed to be alone.
