Page 3 of The Forever Match

“I mean, we’d talked about it, but I never thought anyone would propose to me. I’m hardly a catch.”

“Four, three, two, one.” Ash stared at Victoria. No hiccups for at least ten seconds. Had they conquered it? Maybe. She stared, and neither one of them broke eye contact.

“The love of my life. My soon-to-be-wife. The future Duchess of Cambridge. Always my queen.”

Ash winced, but hoped Victoria didn’t see it. She was still processing the name changes that came with getting hitched. Once they were married, they were going to become joint Duchesses of Cambridge. Ash was going to lose so much of her life once she was swallowed up by the royal machine. Her professional name was important to her, and she was determined to keep that. If for no other reason than Duchess Of Cambridge was a bugger to fit on the back of a football shirt.

“I can’t wait for you to be a duchess. Will you be a duchess for me, Ash?”

Ash nodded: she wasn’t going to disappoint Victoria tonight.

“When we get married, I’ll be whatever you want me to be.” She pushed herself up from her squat, and pulled Victoria up, too. “I’ll be your duchess, your wife, and also your chief hiccup-extinguisher.”

Victoria slung an arm over her shoulder and grinned. “My nearly wife. My beautiful fucking nearly wife.”

Ash placed a bruising kiss on her lips, then took her hand. “Let’s get you home. No more dancing for you. You need to save some of that energy for our next lesson.”

Chapter 2

Days Until The Royal Wedding: 13.

The next morning, Victoria clutched her head and rolled into Ash with a groan. Inside her skull, chair legs scraped across concrete, nails scratched down a chalkboard, and a crack squad of bongo drummers pounded away, high on life. She winched open her leaden eyelids, as nausea rose in her throat. She fumbled for the volume control in her head, but the remote was long gone.

Today was not a good day.

“I think I might be dying,” she mumbled into Ash’s back. “You might have to go cake-tasting solo.” She curled a hand around Ash’s waist and pulled her close.

If she was dying, at least this was a pretty good way to go. Wrapped around the woman she loved. It was a shame she hadn’t survived until the wedding, but you couldn’t always get what you wanted in life.

However, even as she snuggled into Ash, she could already feel her pulling away. Victoria clung a little harder, but she was fighting a losing battle.

Ash gently peeled her arm off her skin, then rolled over. Even though Victoria was officially dying, her fiancée’s gorgeous features raised a tiny smile.

“You are not getting out of cake tasting that easily. Your mum is going to be there. More to the point, my mum is coming. You’re not leaving me with both of them, face down in a pile of sugar.”

Ash turned up her smile, then pulled Victoria close, stroking her back.

Victoria arched into her touch like a cat.

She couldn’t go to the Palace today. That would mean being vertical, which was a step too far right now. The bongo drummers launched a new, louder rhythm at the mere thought. Or was that the rain outside that had been banging on the windows all night? Perhaps a mix of both.

“I can’t face my mother today. She’ll be unbearable if she knows I’m hungover. She thinks drinking too much is vulgar on a woman. Michael did it for years, and that was fine. The handful of times I’ve done it? Unladylike.”

Double standards were real in the Richmond family household.

“You can face her. Suck it up, Princess.” Ash kissed Victoria’s lips. “Put on some sunglasses, and I’ll locate some Nurofen Plus. You’ll thank me when you taste the cake. Trust me, there’s nothing better for a hangover than sugar, butter, flour and cream.”

“Apart from a McDonald’s.”

“I’ve already messaged Tanya to get one delivered.”

At those words, Victoria’s spirits soared. She leaned in and kissed Ash firmly on the lips. “I knew I chose my future wife well. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ash replied, then slapped her arse. “Let’s get up, have coffee and food, and get a wriggle on.”

They ran from their car and into the Palace at double-speed. Even though the entrance was covered, the rain was so heavy, it seeped into everything. Victoria hadn’t brought an umbrella, and had spent the whole drive fretting about her hair. Today, she couldn’t afford to look dishevelled. Her mother would seek out any imperfection because she was the world’s leading expert at doing so. Would Victoria be like this with her own children? She was going to try her best to buck the trend.

“Good morning, your highness.” Desmond, her parents’ butler, greeted them with a bow. He’d had his hair cut, exposing his greying sides. “Ashleigh, lovely to see you again.”