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Chapter Six
“You are a member of the British Royal Family. We are never tired, and we all love hospitals.”
—Mary of Teck
Two visits in two months.
Before this new reality, he hadn’t been to Buckingham Palace twice in twoyears!
He’d been shown to a different room this time and recognized the blue-and-gold-silk-upholstered furniture and cream-colored wallpaper as the decor of a private family room. Releasing the buttons on the suit jacket he wished he wasn’t required to wear each time he visited, he settled on the edge of a silk-damask settee and pulled out his phone to quickly check his work emails.
Twenty minutes later, the door opened, and Louisa entered, carrying her ever-present tablet and a leather folio embossed with the Palace’s logo. She was dressed as impeccably as ever, although her pinched lips and furrowed brow telegraphed her pique.
“I apologize for not being here to greet you, Your Royal Highness. They just informed me of your arrival.”
Irritation had long since tightened his chest and heated his skin.He stood, rebuttoning his jacket. “The meeting was scheduled for tenA.M.”
“Right. The punctuality took me by surprise.”
From your family.
The words were unsaid, but her meaning was clear.
“I,” he said, being clear with his emphasis, “don’t believe in wasting people’s time.”
“You’d be the first royal to believe that,” she muttered, placing her items on the round marble-topped table in the center of the room. Then, as if she were remembering to whom she was speaking, her face flushed a deep red, clashing with her hair. She dropped her head. “Please forgive my impertinence, sir.”
He waved away her apology. She was right. His family thought very little about how they inconvenienced others. For most, it wasn’t malicious, just the natural result of growing up with your needs always met and cared for by others.
And she did have to track you down a couple of weeks ago.
“Can we get started or are we waiting for the queen? I need to get back to campus. Driving back and forth from Birmingham is playing havoc with my schedule.”
She stared at him. “There must’ve been a misunderstanding. Your meeting isn’t with the queen.”
He froze. “Then why am I here?”
“I thought your being here was your decision. I needed to talk to you, but it could’ve been handled by phone.”
He didn’t know how he managed to resist throwing his head back and screaming to the impressively high ceiling in frustration. He’d had to find another professor to take over his lecture and reschedule several office-hour appointments. Adjustments he was loath to make.
“I’ve had the privilege of being added to the queen’s schedule at ten-thirtyA.M.for daily briefings,” she said in a tone that expressed she considered the inclusion anything but. “That gives me twenty minutes. In the interest of brevity, I’ll get right to it. The queen doesn’t think a concert will be enough. She has decided to extend the celebration to a week.”
“A week?” Shock seized Jameson’s throat. “How many events is she planning?”
“Five, including the concert.”
“The concert is in three months! How do you plan to pull that off?”
“It’s the royal family,” Louisa said, astonished, as if that answered the question.
And he supposed it did. Venue owners and vendors would move anything to do business with the Crown. Especially for an event of this magnitude with a worldwide audience.
“It’s why I’ve been so busy,” Louisa continued. “I need to finalize a few last-minute details. I’ve been granted permission to inform you that everyone we’ve invited has accepted. We’ll unveil the event next week and announce the performers. To ensure everyone’s secrecy, we’ve had all parties sign NDAs as part of their contracts. That way, we can control the release of the story.”
“You’re announcing everything?”
“Yes, and the queen wants you there.”
