Sinclair nodded. ‘That’s why Philip’s so keen to keep the monarchy trim and hardworking. His family were ousted from Greece when he was a baby, and he wouldn’t want a repeat of that.’
The thought crossed her mind that perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Philip in her article – well, J. Marshall’s article.
They went down the back stairs, headed to the staff door and then out onto the street.
‘Do you think they have a good marriage, the queen and Philip?’
‘By all accounts it was a love match. The queen’s been head over heels for him since she first set eyes on him aged thirteen. Fortuitously, he happened to be royalty, too.’
‘Did Elizabeth have to marry a prince?’
‘Well, her father married a British aristocrat, so not necessarily a prince. It made things easy, I suppose. They’re distantly related, which must be a little odd, both of them great-great grandchildren of Queen Victoria.’
‘How curious! But it must have been a big decision for him, to marry a woman who would be queen. He knew he’d have to play second fiddle, give up his life for the crown. And what does he get in return?’
‘Not a great deal,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘He hates living in the palace, never being able to get away from his wife’s family and advisors. The servants drive him mad – recently he began a footman training programme to bring them into the twentieth century. He must truly love her, not to mention his children, to put up with it. But Isuppose he never had much of a family life, with his own scattered across Europe. Here with Elizabeth, this is his family, his home.’
The thought lingered inside Miranda’s mind. Is love where we find our home?
Miranda prided herself on being a vagrant, roaming from one friend’s hospitality to the next. But Betty had made her feel part of the family, integral to the home. She hadn’t felt like that since her childhood, since before her mother’s accident. And without knowing what was happening, she began wondering what it would be like to have a proper home, a place where she could live forever.
But wasn’t that how she’d felt about Jack, their home in Connecticut? The day she’d left was still clear as a bell, the overwhelming grief as she saw him in every corner, at every door, how she’d thrown some clothes into a suitcase and left, not even stopping to tell her father.
And she’d been running ever since.
‘What is it?’ he said, smiling as his eyes met hers. ‘You look a million miles away.’
And just like that, she snapped out of it, stepping back, away from him, reminding herself that she needed to stay focused. The past was long gone, and she couldn’t have Sinclair distract her from her journalism, from her independent life. Jack’s death had nearly wiped her out for good. She had to put herself first.
But when she looked up, she saw Sinclair watching her, trying to read her thoughts. Then he said, ‘Do you know, I think I win.’
Baffled, she enquired, ‘What do you mean?’
‘My story.’ He nodded at her. ‘Maybe my sorry tale beats yours.’
He’d hinted at something gone awry, and now Miranda’s curiosity was piqued. ‘What is this sorry tale, then?’
He drew a deep breath. ‘My fiancée called it off the night before our wedding.’
‘Oh, goodness!’ Without thinking, she put a hand on his arm. ‘What happened?’
He laughed at her bluntness. ‘I’ve asked myself that very question numerous times. My conclusions range from my own stupidity to hertreachery.’ He frowned. ‘It was probably somewhere in the middle, a graph with two lines converging in the centre.’
Miranda frowned as she tried to picture it. ‘Was there someone else?’
‘A so-called friend of mine.’
‘That sounds complicated.’
‘Precisely,’ he said with a sigh. ‘It was astonishing how much everyone else seemed to know while I was completely oblivious.’
‘Didn’t you suspect anything?’
He shook his head. ‘I was working abroad a lot, but if I’m honest, I was burying my head in the sand, hoping the clues didn’t add up.’
‘You were lucky to escape.’
‘Yes, but it was humiliating, and I was heartbroken – although perhaps not as much as I would have been if not for the affair.’ He shrugged it off with a small laugh. ‘That’s why I’m looking forward to my new posting in Rome. I can finally move to another city, put her and London behind me.’
