“Cinderella would’ve worn these.”
After which Daffy kissed her goodbye and ran all over the Clemency District hunting for one special item before returning to her flat to pack.
Saturday morning, Dad, Mum and Ella arrived to see her off and inspect her suitcase.
“Do you have everything?” Mum snooped through Daffy’s case, rearranged her socks and underwear, then moved to the closet to see if there was one more item she might need or want.
“Who’s going to do your hair?” Ella inspected two pairs of shoes. A pair of Wellies and a pair of boots. “You should take these. You never know.”
“I have Wellies and trainers.” Daffy tossed the shoes on the floor of the closet. “I’m doing my own hair. Mum, that jacket was hideous when I bought it. I meant to take it back but never got round to it.” Daffy closed her suitcase, putting the end to her family’s attempt to overpack. “I’ve got everything I need. My gown. My Louboutins. Clothes for Sunday. I’ll be back Monday evening.”
She had an interview with an art gallery Tuesday morning, another on Wednesday afternoon with an old Port Fressa family firm—Trumpeters, makers of fine furniture. They were very interested in her corporate curating ideas.
Dad stepped in from the living room. “Daff, love, we should get going in case there’s traffic.”
He’d insisted on driving her up to Dalholm in Mum’sRange Roverso the dress could lie flat. The queen texted to come round to the delivery entrance and sneak up to the servants’ quarters on the third floor. She had the old butler’s room prepped for her.
“He’ll never expect you to be there. Besides, all the suites are booked. Even Royal Guest One. Sorry, love.”
Daffy didn’t mind. She preferred those old spaces. In the 1950s, the family modernized and added bathrooms to each room of the servants’ quarters. She’d be perfectly comfortable.
Mum handed Dad Daffy’s suitcase, while Ella carried the gown, carefully cleaned by an expert at the Royal Trust, Alice.
“Well, have fun.” Mum squeezed Daffy against her bosom with a weepy sigh. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Me too, sis.” Ella hugged her next. “If you meet any eligible bachelors, get their number for me.”
“All right, she’s just going up to Dalholm for a ball, let’s not break out the waterworks.” Dad could always be counted on for leveling things off.
“Dalholm.” Mom whispered the word. “What a perfect place to say, ‘I love you.’”
“Didn’t you fall in love with Thomas in Dalholm, Daffy?” Ella, really, this was not the time.
“Morwena,” Dad said. “I tell you that I love you and you say to hush.”
“Hush and drive safe. You’ve plenty of time.” Mum opened the door and Ella passed Daffy the garment bag. “Are you just going to hide out when you get there?”
“Until five, when Gus goes out to the eastern portico for a family photograph.”
“Then what?” Ella and Mum walked with Dad and Daffy to the elevator.
“I run toward him, unless it’s raining, which it shouldn’t, and he scoops me in his arms, kisses me, and I swoon.”
“Crikey, that sounds like a line fromMy Life with the Prince.”
Precisely. Leslie Ann returned the diary by messenger along with a note. I’m sorry for hurting you. I don’t want our friendship to end.
After a day, Daffy responded with a text.Let’s talk next week.
After her conversation with the queen, she didn’t see any profit in holding a grudge. But she would let Leslie Ann know how she hurt everyone for her own gain and broke her promise to leave Daffy out of her future stories.
Gus called last night and they’d talked for three hours. One hour was his recap of his conversation with Coral and Chuck, how healing and freeing it was, and how he wished he’d done it long ago.
“Also, we need to talk about Emmanuel.”
“I know. We do.”
The other two hours Gus needled, pleaded, and begged her to come up to the ball. But she claimed plans she could not get out of without letting a lot of people down. But oh it was torture hearing the disappointment in his voice. She almost broke and told him twice. But the queen had been insistent so once again, she kept a secret.
