Princess Dottie

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.”

Chapter Twelve

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?