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That was part of the problem. Julian was rarely denied what he wanted. That’s how he’d ended up in this position. And despite what Catherine seemed to think, Jameson didn’t believe his uncle would pivot and be the monarch the country needed when it was his time to ascend to the throne.
“Don’t feel sorry for him. He made his own bed.” Realizing what he’d said, Jameson winced and closed his eyes while his friends laughed.
“The one I feel sorry for is Fiona. Everyone knows she’s wanted to have another baby for a while now. It’s her duty as the Princess of Wales. The whole heir and a spare. She finally gets pregnant and she can’t even enjoy it because of that pop star.”
Dani shook her head. “It may make me a bitch to say it, but I’m just glad that pop star’s attention is focused on someone else. It was exhausting. So, I personally want to thank Julian! If he hadn’t gotten involved by trying to trip up Jay, he wouldn’t have brought her here.”
“He’s been a sleaze since he was in knee pants,” Harriet scoffed. “That’s why it took so long to marry him off. The queen probably threatened to disown him... or to live forever.”
Dani laughed and snapped her fingers. “You are one shady bitch, Harriet.”
Harriet tilted her head and pressed a hand to her chest. “Call me Hetty and awww... Thank you!”
Nothing they were saying was news to Jameson, yet it was a telling indication that his family was no longer held in the same high regard as they had been in the past.
Give his grandmother credit for seeing the precarious situation the monarchy was in and trying something—anything—to right the sinking ship.
He wished the something she tried didn’t have to include him.
“I saw the pictures. Fiona’s barely showing, but the dress she wore emphasized her tiny bump perfectly,” Mary said.
“She looked gorgeous.” Harriet sighed. “I’d hoped seeing her in person and pregnant meant everyone would behave.”
“You mean you’d hoped the queen had found a way to muzzle the press for just one event,” Jasper said.
Harriet nodded.
Jameson curled his lip. Ah, the naivety.
“There will always be one who figures the short-term gain of getting the scoop is worth whatever punishment the palace metes out,” he said.
“And when theDaily Standardasked if Fiona was going to havea joint baby shower with Banks...” Jasper’s grimace was absurdly comical.
“That actually happened? At a royal event?” Dani asked, eyes wide.
“It was brutal watching the clips on Twitter. I can’t even imagine seeing it in person,” Mary said.
“She rushed off and left Julian standing there. He seemed to forget all of his press training and proceeded to go on a tirade about the media’s lack of deference and how things were going to change whenheascended to the throne.”
“It was not a good look,” Harriet summarized.
“That part wasn’t on Twitter,” Mary said, her voice rising in shock.
“Security escorted the reporter off the premises after his question to Fiona,” Jasper continued. “I guess the other invited outlets didn’t want to risk the palace’s wrath. And the rest of us in attendance, well... we know better than to say anything publicly.”
Jameson knew that well. Other than Dani, everyone in this group had been put through loyalty tests to ensure they were interested in his friendship and not his ties to the royal family. Everything from telling Rhys the toes on Jameson’s left foot were webbed to see if he’d leak that “fun fact” to the media to “confiding” in Ollie the James Bond–like machinations Jameson and his cousins plotted to get into the hottest bars in London, including the use of the code name Buttocks Whimplesnatch, and waiting for the hordes of their Eton mates to attempt the scheme.
However, as he sat there, basking in the laughter and camaraderie, he realized while they’d earned his friendship, he’d never truly let them in. He’d seen them socially, but they hadn’t enjoyed many evenings like this one. In his efforts to protect himself from the limelight, he’d withdrawn into the darkness.
How lonely he’d been.
“Damn!” Dani brought a closed fist to her mouth. “It’s like a real-life soap opera! I wish Nyla was here. She’s always saying she needs to write her own stuff to get good material to play. This would be perfect.”
“You aren’t the only one wishing she were here,” Rhys muttered into the depths of his glass.
“Are you missing her?” Dani asked in a singsong voice. “Do you want to see her?”
“Yes!” A chorus of agreements from Jameson and their four friends.
