But something was different today. There was a little extra joy and anticipation this morning, and I understood why just before the close of the service when the vicar stood at the altar, rocking slightly back on his heels as he beamed at us.
"Before I give the benediction, I had a special request this morning." Father glanced over at our side of the chapel, and to my surprise, my sister and Rhys rose to their feet, walking hand-in-hand to the front of the chapel.
"Lord Rhys Corbyn let me know that he and Miss Bria Duncan were married in a civil ceremony earlier this month, in the States. Today, they ask the Church to bless their union as they renew their vows before their family, their friends, and God Almighty."
I turned to stare at my husband, who only winked at me and leaned over.
"Surprise, darling. Merry Christmas from your sister."
This time, I didn't even try to hide my tears as we all watched Bria and Rhys promise to love, honor, and cherish one another as long as they both would live. After the vicar pronounced his final blessing, the couple faced us, their joy and love shining on their faces.
It really was a very happy Christmas.
Christmas Day lunch was a giddy and joyous affair. The formality of our Christmas Eve dinner the night before had given way to relaxation and laughter as well as many oooohs and awwws when the cook came in carrying a large white wedding cake, setting it down before my sister and her husband.
As the servers passed around slices of cake, Alice tugged at my sleeve.
"I want to give Gan-Gan my gift. Is now a good time?"
I glanced at Nicky, who shrugged as he looked to the head of the table where the Queen presided.
"I don't see why not." He helped our daughter out of her chair. "Remember not to interrupt—wait until Gan-Gan sees you."
We both watched as she walked up to the Queen with all of the confidence of a four-year-old beloved great-granddaughter. Her Majesty was speaking with the Duchess of Cornwall, but when the Duchess spotted Alice, she smiled and gestured to the child.
The Queen saw Alice and slowly eased her chair away from the table. With some help from the Earl of Wessex, who sat at her right hand, Alice climbed into Her Majesty's lap. She touched her great-grandmother's cheek and held up the paper in her hand.
The Queen took the gift from our daughter, listening carefully as Alice pointed, apparently explaining all of the details of the drawing she'd been working on for weeks. Her Majesty asked a few questions before she hugged Alice close to her for a long moment.
And then she eased Alice to stand up as she herself slowly rose. All the talk at the table stopped.
"My family," the Queen began. "My dear family. Thank you so much for being here with me this year. I will admit that I was rather dreading this Christmas, the first without my beloved Philip." She paused. "But you all have surrounded me with such love that I couldn't help but feel comforted. And now our own young Alice—" Her Majesty lay one hand on our daughter's head. "Alice has presented me with a most priceless gift." The Queen held up Alice's drawing. "She drew her family—all of us—together, and she showed me that Grandpa is still here, right next to me, even if, as Alice points out, I might not always be able to see him." She took a deep breath. "My dear ones, remember this Christmas. No matter what might change in the future, you have each other. Our family is blessed. Never forget that you are loved for who you are . . . and you belong." She pressed one hand to her heart. "I am so grateful to you all."
Around the table, I noticed that I wasn't the only one dabbing at wet eyes. Alice scampered back over to us, and Nicky swung our daughter into his arms.
"Well done, sweetheart." His eyes met mine, and the love I saw there, the promise for our forever, warmed me.
In that moment, there were no worries, no fears—only trust in the hope of our bright and beautiful future.
Together.
Epilogue
And now, it's Christmas again.
But this year, everything has changed.
Our son, Duncan Philip Albert, was born at the end of August. I was blessed with an easy, uncomplicated pregnancy and birth, and the day after I left the hospital, Nicky, Alice, Baby Duncan and I all flew to Balmoral, where the rest of the family was gathered as was traditional for the end of summer and start of autumn.
Her Majesty was frailer than I'd ever seen her, and her bright blue eyes were tired. But still, her smile was wide and bright as she held her newest great-grandchild and pronounced him to be perfect. We enjoyed a quiet visit over that weekend before flying back to London so that Nicky could keep his scheduled engagements.
A little over a week later, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II was dead.
It was surreal. None of us—aside from the new King and the Princess Royal—remembered a time when she hadnotbeen our queen. And of course, on a more personal level, Nicky and his sisters and cousins had lost their beloved Granny. While we knew she was nearing the end of her life—she was ninety-six, after all—sometimes it had seemed that she would go on forever. We'd had such fun celebrating her Jubilee earlier in the summer. The Queen had appointed the new Prime Minister just days before. I had had every expectation that we would all gather for the holidays, perhaps back at Sandringham this year.
But in the end, Her Majesty left this life with the same dignity that she had lived and reigned. Nicky had scrambled to join his cousins to reach Scotland in time to say goodbye, but all of them had been too late.
"It's all right," he told me when he returned home to Chiswick the next day. "We had our goodbye last weekend. She knew how I loved her."
