Lucy Gordon - Princess Dottie

“That's terrible,” Dottie said, aghast. “No wonder you're so…so…”

“Yes, no wonder,” he said, understanding what she couldn't say. “Fritz, my dog, was everything the others weren't. He came from the wrong side of the tracks. He didn't have a bloodline-not a respectable one, anyway. He was spontaneous and he didn't understand rules. I can't tell you how attractive that was to a boy who was just beginning to understand how rules had to govern his life, and there was no escape for him.”

The light was fading fast but Dottie didn't light the lamp they sometimes used. She had a feeling that the darkness was helping him. This was a man who didn't confide his feelings easily, but today something had made it happen.

“What a pity that your mother couldn't ease up,” she said slowly, “just to make you happy.”

“She loved me in her way, but to her everything was subordinate to being royal. When I was old enough I had to give her a formal bow when we met in the morning. She was the queen, and only after that was she my mother. It wasn't her fault, it was the way she was raised.”

“Poor little boy!” Dottie murmured.

“It's sweet of you to say so, but don't feel sorry for me. That little boy doesn't exist anymore.”

He was so wrong, she thought. That lonely little boy was here with them this minute, so real that she felt she knew him. Such love as he'd received had come from a mother too rigid to show him real affection. His father had been kindly but weak, too selfish to limit his own pleasures to stand up for his son. Had anybody in Randolph's whole life loved him warmly, tenderly, unconditionally?

Yes.

She couldn't say, “It's all right, you've got me now,” because that would be to venture onto his private ground where he was still uneasy of intruders. He'd allowed her in, just a little, but there was a long way to go yet. But she could be patient.

The dog was gulping the last of the tidbits noisily.

“I expect he'll stay with you now,” she observed.

But the next moment a cry of “Brin!” came through the trees. The dog grabbed one last morsel of food, leapt onto the table and vanished through the window. From the distance came cries of welcome from childish voices.

“Obviously that was Brin,” Randolph said wryly.

Dottie took his hand and squeezed it. “Never mind. I come from the wrong side of the tracks. Will I do?”

He slipped his arm around her, and spoke more tenderly than she had ever heard. “I think you'll do very well, my Dottie.”

That night, for the first time, he slept with his head on her breast, and her arms around him.

The next day Dottie found a man who bred German shepherds and arranged to have a litter of three brought to Kellensee for Randolph's inspection. He chose one, but Dottie fell in love with the others and they ended up keeping them all. A visit to a local animal sanctuary produced two cats, but after that Randolph begged her to stop.

Then there was the time Bertha discovered a pair of paparazzi and managed to send them both flying into the duck pond. Grinning, Randolph complimented her, but added that her technique wasn't a patch on Dottie's.

The newspapers arrived and piled up, unnoticed. When she could spare time to read about their own wedding Dottie found herself studying a picture of the moment she'd tossed her bouquet. She was looking away from Randolph, into the crowd, but he was watching her with an expression that made her catch her breath.

The headline called it The Look Of Love. Underneath it the caption said, Those who thought this was nothing but a state marriage had their answer today in the look of adoration the groom turned on his bride.

Dottie studied Randolph's face longingly. Adoration? It could be read that way. He was smiling, oblivious of everything but his bride, the very picture of a man entering on his greatest joy.

But why did he never let her see that look?

She heard footsteps and hastily thrust the newspaper under a cushion, going quickly out to meet Randolph and be told that a deer had been seen near the hide, and they should hurry.

By day their happiest times were spent in the hide. Birds and animals came and went while they watched, entranced, in silence. In those silences she felt herself growing closer to im. She'd thought so often of what they might say, but now she knew that words were unnecessary. He'd brought her to the place nearest his heart, and allowed her in, and that counted, even though she'd had to nudge him.

“Why were you reluctant to bring me here?” she asked once as they sat by the window in the fading light.

“That isn't true, Dottie.”

“You never suggested it until I turned down Rome and New York.”

“I thought you'd find them more exciting. Don't you want to see the world?”

She smiled. “Do you have a world better than this?”

“No.” He smiled back. “There isn't one.”

“We will come back, won't we? Often.”

“That will be for Your Majesty to say,” he teased.

“No it won't. You're officially Prince Consort now. And about that, you never said anything.”

“I said thank you. It was our wedding day. Did you expect me to think about anything but you?” His voice became teasing. “I was a little disturbed to find my wife's mind fixed on state affairs while she was dancing with me. Seriously, I do thank you. It's just that such things seem less important now.”

“Wait until we get home and a mountain of paperwork descends on you. I give it all back. Well, most of it. You'll run the country much better than I could.”

“Dottie,” he said, shocked. “Surely not because I'm a man? Don't disillusion me.”

“No, you idiot,” she said, laughing. “Because you've had years of training, and you know all the things about this country that I don't. I'm going back to school. I need to know Elluria's history, which means,” she gave a gloomy sigh, “I need to know every other country's history, too.”

“Cobblers!” Randolph said sympathetically.

“Right. Oh heck, what have I let myself in for? There's so much for me to learn, and while I'm doing that someone must keep things going. I've managed so far on a smile and a load of chutzpah, but it's not enough for the years ahead.”

“What a wise woman you are,” he said tenderly.

“But don't think you're going to have it all your own way.”

“That thought never crossed my mind,” he said truthfully.

“I still want my parliamentary reforms in time for the next election and I'll be breathing down your neck to make sure I get them.”

“Just like before, really.”

“But you can do as you like with the boring stuff.”

“Thank you, Dottie. Your faith in me is deeply moving.”

“You don't fool me.”

“And you don't fool me. This is nothing but a trick to off-load 'the boring stuff' onto me, leaving you free to indulge in a good fight whenever the mood takes you. Oh no! We'll be a team. It works better that way. To be honest, I was never much good at the smile and the chutzpah.”

“You're getting better at them.”

“Only when you're around. But you're not getting off that easily. Stick to your studies. I hear your languages are coming on splendidly. Your tutor says you have a natural ear. Your German is excellent, your French not far behind.” A sense of mischief that he'd never known he possessed made him add, “One day you may even stop mangling the English language.”

She gave him a gentle thump. “I'll get you for that, just you wait!”

He murmured softly in her ear, “Must I wait?”

His breath tickled her ear and sent scurryings of pleasure through her. “Randolph, I'm trying to be serious.”

“So am I. Very serious.” His lips were at work on the soft skin of her neck, distracting her.

“It's important.”

He rose, drawing her with him, and moving toward the bed. “What could be more important than this?”

“But we were discussing urgent matters of state.”

“Hang urgent matters of state.”

As the summer faded people looked anxiously at the sky and feared for the weather on coronation day. But the morning dawned pale and clear, with no clouds in the sky, and the promise of warmth to come. As she was picking at tea and toast, having no appetite for more, Dottie took a phone call from her head groom.

“With Your Majesty's permission I believe we could risk the open carriage.”

“I agree,” she said with relief.

As her ladies dressed her Aunt Liz remarked, “People would have been so disappointed not to see you properly.”

“Yes, it's really their day,” Dottie agreed, turning a little to survey the coronation gown in the long mirror. It was a magnificent creation in cream satin, embroidered with the four emblems of Elluria, each one studded with tiny diamonds. More diamonds were worked into the curve of the neckline, and in the long train that stretched behind her.

“What a day!” Aunt Liz enthused. “Who would have thought it would ever happen?”

“Nobody,” Dottie murmured, “because it shouldn't have.”

How could she tell anyone that her heart was heavy on what should have been her day of triumph? Who would ever understand that she was miserable at what today would do to the man she loved? This should have been Randolph's coronation. Instead he would hand her to the place that should have been his, and swear loyalty to her with her other subjects. And he would do it with a smile on his face.

That smile scared her, because he never told her of the pain that lay beneath it. It was kind, tender, understanding, and it shut her out. But surely, today of all days, he would give her a glimpse of his true feelings?

“Leave me for a moment,” she said suddenly.

Her ladies, who had been fussing about her, curtsied and withdrew. Dottie paced the floor, feeling a dozen years older than the unaware girl who'd arrived here six months ago. She stopped at the open French windows, looking out onto the park, where the colors of autumn were just being seen. This was the day when her future should stretch ahead, clear and triumphant. Instead it was shrouded in mist.

She turned at the sound of the door. It was Randolph, and she thought he had never looked more splendid.

“Are you quite ready?” he asked.

“I shall never be ready for this,” she burst out. “It's all wrong. This should be your day.”

“It is the day we shall share,” he told her gravely.

“No, no,” she shook her head. “That's just pretty words. I'm stealing what should be yours and I don't know how not to. I'm not really queen and we both know it.”

“Listen to me,” he said, shushing her as he took her hands between his. “I told you once before that you must believe in yourself before anybody else can do so. That was never more true than now. You have made the throne your own, not through your ancestors, but with your heart. You've won your people's love, and because of that they are truly your people.”

“But I was given the chance. You'd have taken it, too.”

He shook his head. “No, I never knew how. They respected me, but they didn't love me. I've always done my duty, and thought that was enough. It was you who showed me that duty could-should-be done joyfully, so that people's hearts reached out to you. I never had the gift of winning hearts.”

“You won mine.”

“Yes, and that's my best hope. When they see that you love me, they may think I'm not so bad after all.”

She couldn't bear that. To the horror of both of them she burst into tears.

“Dottie, Dottie…” he drew her close. “Don't cry.”

She couldn't stop. The sadness of his resignation overwhelmed her. She'd never wept for herself, but she wept bitterly for him.

“That's enough,” Randolph urged her, half tender, half commanding. And when she still couldn't stop he gave her a little shake. “Listen Dottie, for I'm speaking very seriously now. This is the twenty-first century. Kings and queens have survived a long time, but we can't go on in the old way, depending on respect, fear or power. Now our people have to want us. They have to love us. And it's you that they love. It's you that has the power to take this monarchy, this country, into the future. I know it, and your people know it. So now go out to them, and let them see that you are theirs. This is your day of glory.”

“But it should have been yours,” she said huskily as he dried her eyes.

“Is there only one kind of glory then? Haven't we discovered another kind?”

He spoke softly in the voice he used at night when there was only the darkness and their passion, but Dottie couldn't let herself off the hook that easily.

“Yes, we have, but you know you need more than that. You know you couldn't be happy if you weren't doing your job.”