“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.”
“But I shall be doing it, through you. It's the same. Hush…” he laid a finger over her lips. “There are things about me you don't know yet. They can only be told at the right time, and perhaps that time will never come. Try to trust me, and believe this, that there is no bitterness in my heart today. Only love for you. My darling, why can't you believe me?”
“Because… Oh, I can't wrap it up in posh words.”
He laughed. “That's my Dottie. Blunt to the end. Be blunt then, and tell me why you can't believe that I love you.”
“Because it's your duty to love me. And you always do your duty.”
“Is that what you think? Only duty and no more? Dottie, Dottie what a short memory you have. Haven't there been nights when I've held you against my heart and we've been soul of each other's soul as well as flesh of each other's flesh?”
“Yes,” she said wistfully. “I've felt that then, but why have you never actually said you loved me before?”
“Because I didn't want to win your contempt. Don't you remember once saying to me, 'Would you have been crass enough to try to make me think you were in love with me? I suppose I should be grateful to have been spared that piece of dishonesty.'? My darling, blinkered Dottie, how was I supposed to speak of love after that?”
“But I…I didn't mean it. I was angry. I'd have said anything.”
“That I believe,” he said with a touch of humor. “But when you stopped being angry, you didn't take it back.”
“How could I?”
“Hush. We tangled ourselves in such a web, and words only made it worse. I tried to show you my love and hoped you'd understand, but you seemed to be pining for Mike…”
“Not really. I've loved you longer than you think. It was Sophie I was afraid of.”
“Never fear, and never doubt.” He drew her close and laid his lips on hers, caressing them tenderly. “Do you doubt me now…and now?”
If only they would all go away, she thought, and leave the two of them alone in the place where they could love and be happy. But the world couldn't be shut out for long. A noise in the outer room made them sigh and draw apart.
“There will be later for us,” Randolph said. “Now you belong to your people.”
“Not without you,” she said urgently.
“I am always beside you.”
She stood for a moment, composing herself. Meeting Randolph's eyes, she saw his slight gesture indicating that she should lift her chin, and did so. His smile reassured her.
Her ladies were waiting to attach the heavy ermine and velvet cloak to her shoulders. She took Randolph's arm and they walked out of the state apartments into the broad corridor. To left and right of them people were curtseying and she smiled. This was her day, because Randolph had given it to her. Now she would take what he had given, and make of it something better still.
Down the grand stairway, left along the crimson carpet to where the sun gleamed in the courtyard, then out through the wide arch to the open carriage. The waiting crowds cheered as they appeared and at first she acknowledged them, but the next moment, Dottie-like, she forgot regal dignity in the excitement of a discovery.
“It's him,” she told Randolph. “It's Jack, leading the horses.”
Before he could speak she slipped away to where the head groom stood holding Jack's bridle. The old horse stood proud and beautiful, a plume nodding from his head.
“It'll be his last outing, ma'am,” the coachman said proudly. “But I promised him he wouldn't miss this great day.”
“I'm so glad.” She planted a swift kiss on Jack's forehead. “It wouldn't have been the same without him.”
“Dottie,” Randolph said patiently, “I'm glad to see him too, but can we get on with the coronation?”
Smiling she took his hand and let him hand her into the carriage. The crowd, who'd understood what was happening, cheered louder than ever. That was Dottie, their queen.
The carriage door slammed behind them, then a signal to the horses and they were on the move out of the palace gates. Bunting flew in the breeze overhead, more bunting was draped from the lamp posts, almost everyone in the crowd seemed to be waving a little flag.
As they drew up outside the cathedral Randolph turned to her. “Remember,” he said. “Together.”
“Together.”
The cathedral was cool and dark as they entered it. There was the master of ceremonies watching their arrival, clutching a mobile phone with which to alert the organist. It all went smoothly and at the exact moment that they stepped forward the organ pealed out overhead.
Dottie had expected this part to be a blur. Instead she found her senses heightened so that she could hear each note of the music and pick out individual faces. Almost every country had sent a representative to her coronation.
Near the front she saw Prince Harold and his princess, invited because diplomacy demanded it. Sophie's face
