Page 95 of Royally Redeemed
It was an eventful morning for The Prince of Wales and his staff. His Social Secretary fell unconscious in the middle of an engagement. A statement from the Prince’s camp explained the following:
“Miss Mills experienced a serious complication from acute appendicitis, requiring emergency surgery. All speculation regarding any other cause for her illness is unacceptable and inaccurate. The delegation will skip an engagement this evening to ensure Miss Mills is well and has the support she needs.”
This was after several news outlets—upon seeing the Prince’s reaction to his young secretary’s incapacitation—claimed Miss Mills was pregnant with a love child. The palace has unequivocally denied this, and it seems she’s had a life-threatening medical emergency instead.
“They’re demanding a statement,” John said.
“Who?” I asked.
“The film crew.”
“While Ella is in surgery?”
“Can you please just give them five minutes? I know it isn’t ideal but the more you hide back here, the worse it is.”
I rolled my eyes and strode to a visitor’s lounge to give the crew a statement. They fumbled to pick up their cameras and mics in time to capture my statement. The delight on Cressida’s face was in stark contrast to the worry I felt thinking about them rolling Eloise into surgery.
“Miss Mills needed an emergency appendectomy,” I explained. “But her privacy comes first, so I won’t say more.”
“And you’re… allowed back there?”
“Yes. Eloise doesn’t have any family nearby. John and I have been keeping her company. We’re waiting for updates.”
A dubious look crossed her face. She didn’t buy it and I lacked time to address it. Not now. Perhaps, not ever if Eloise remained rightfully outraged. Still, as sad as I was with the possibility that I cocked it all up again, I was more worried about Eloise—my girlfriend. Until she told me otherwise, that’s what I called her.
Thankfully, I was saved by my mother.
“That would be Her Majesty. Excuse me,” I turned.
“Duncan, what on Earth has happened?” My mother asked.
“Miss Mills is having a procedure to remove a burst appendix. She’s otherwise fine, Mum,” I answered like an actor in a medical drama.
“Why was she working with a bad appendix?” Dad asked, protectively.
“If you are insinuating that I forced her to work, I never would have. She said she was fine.”
I left the part about period cramps out. She blamed it on that all morning. And given that I knew those weren’tfun, I thought that was all it was. It seemed a likely explanation. Now, I felt like world’s worst bossandworst boyfriend.
“What is this thing about a love child?” Mum asked. “Lucy says there is a rumor.”
“I referred to her as Ella while were attempting to bring her to. The media ran with it and now they are sure I have impregnated her and this is all a cover up. We released a statement. It’s not that.”
“Well, I should hope not!” Dad was exasperated and indignant.
“You flew off the stage fast enough, Duncan,” Mum wasn’t buying it.
“Look, I care. That’s all.”
“Yes, I am sure that’s all.”
“If John had fallen, I would have run off the stage, too. I care about the people who work for me. So, sue me!”
“Duncan, if you are going to lie to me, be more convincing. Don’t lie to me. I won’t?—”
“Fine,” I sighed, knowing lying only made this worse. “We’ve been… seeing one another.”
“Seeing one another or you came onto her and?—”
