Page 100 of Scandal Queen

“What do we do now?” I squeaked out to change the subject.

“Daisy, what else happens in the Christmas story?”

“The kings come with gifts.”

Ollie leant down and kissed the top of her head.

“That they do, sweetie.”

Later we were squeezed onto the small double bed in Nana’s spare room. I curled myself around his chest, snuggling my face into the soft cotton of the grey pyjama T-shirt he wore. Daisy’s light snores drifted up from the spare mattress on the floor.

“Question.” His chest rumbled beneath me with his whisper.

I shook my head “No questions. Sleep. If we’ve got to try to drive through snowdrifts tomorrow to get to Bernie’s, I want to have all my wits about me.”

His laugh rocked me slightly and I warmed on the inside; all hot and tingly down to my toes.

“Remind me to take up the driving lesson discussion in the new year.”

“Whatever,” I grumbled into his chest. “Okay, let’s sleep.”

“Leia, it will probably rain tomorrow and all the snow will wash away.” I groaned my disappointment. “You really are keen for a white Christmas aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” I stopped for a moment, pushing into those memories I’d always kept locked up. “When I was small, I saw White Christmas on telly, the one with all the singing in it.”

“With Bing Crosby?”

I sniggered and gripped his chest harder. “I don’t fucking know. I was a kid. The next Christmas we didn’t even have a telly because mum had sold it for a hit.” I laughed but it met a wall of silence.

His fingers, stroking my hair, stilled and his hold grew firmer. “I wish I could take away every bad thing that happened to you.”

I lifted onto an elbow and read the shadows on his face. “But you can’t. And they led me to you. If my life had been rosy and happy, I’d probably never have been at Bright Futures that day. As much as everything hurt, it seems almost worth it now. I’m so happy with you, and I’m sorry I’m making this difficult and I’m not the kind of woman who can slot into royal family life.”

“Leia, how many people’s lives do you think we will affect tomorrow when we turn up and show what we can do by giving our time to Bernie’s shelter?”

“That’s not quite true is it? We are going be there because there is nowhere else to go.”

He shifted down and caught my fingers in his hand. “Don’t be naïve. I’m Oliver Beaufort. I could have rung The Savoy or The Ritz and they would have made room for us.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because this is the path we are on. If I don’t use this opportunity to make a statement about who I want to be, then walking away today would have all been for nothing. How can I show my parents I mean business if I run away from them straight through the door of five-star luxury? What message am I sending? What am I showing my people?”

I almost breathed a sigh of relief. “So you aren’t giving up on being king one day?”

“No. I’m showing I will only do it my way. The way that you inspired.”

“Okay.” I settled back down.

“So it’s not that you won’t love me the same if I’m not destined to be king?”

I lifted my face again. “Are you kidding? That’s ridiculous.”

“Oh I’m ridiculous now, am I?”

“One hundred percent.”

He caught my face, fitting his lips to mine, sweet but intense. I forgot to breathe.