The Royal Couple: A Christian Romance (Royals Book 1) Read online

  During the limo ride back to Barbara’s residence, William suddenly announced, “I’ve got a great idea of how we can burn off that cake and gelato I so wickedly influenced you to eat.”

  Barbara’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Really?”

  “Do you play tennis?”

  She nodded. “You taught me, remember?”

  “Of course I remember. I was never so happy to play teacher. In fact, you’d gotten quite good under my tutelage if I recall correctly.”

  “I’ve actually improved exponentially since then.”

  “Exponentially? Wow! That’s a big word. Are you doing anything tomorrow morning because I’d like to test that assertion.”

  “That sounds like a challenge.”

  “Not at all. Just a friendly game of tennis. That’s all I’m proposing.”

  She accepted his proposal.

  Chapter 9

  Bright and early the next morning William showed up to collect Barbara in a midnight black Aston Martin. He declined to wait for her in the lobby of her building. Instead, he positioned his car so that he had the perfect viewpoint to drink in the sight of her as she strode out of the building.

  He wasn’t disappointed. She strolled out looking like the movie star she was: posh and pretty in a white tennis dress, white cardigan and blue sunglasses. Her high ponytail bounced up and down with each long-legged stride and her tennis racket was slung across her chest, as though she was ready to do battle, he noted.

  When she reached him he opened the door with a flourish and gestured to the car seat. “Good morning, Miss Dickson. Your chariot awaits.”

  She returned the greeting and grinned as she got in the car, leaving a fresh fruity scent lingering in the air about him. He inhaled deeply and smiled. Yes, it was indeed a good morning.

  “I hope I didn’t get you out of bed too early,” he said, as he pulled on his seat belt and started the engine.

  Barbara groaned and strapped in all in one motion. She yawned, seemingly in response to his question.

  William laughed in surprise. He checked the side mirror as he changed lanes. “You don’t look as chipper as you did when you bounced out of that building.”

  “I know, right? I had a shot of espresso and got off the elevator feeling as though I could conquer the world. I think when the sunlight hit me it zapped my energy,” she said drily.

  “Isn’t the sun supposed to have the opposite effect?”

  “Yeah, if you’re Superman.” She looked out the window. “Do you mind rolling down the windows? I think the fresh air would energize me.”

  “Sure.” William powered down the car windows.

  “Ah, that feels good.” Barbara inhaled deeply, clearly savoring the crisp spring air. “I’m normally a morning person you know.”

  “You, a morning person?” William said.

  “I am a morning person.”

  “Is that why you’re always so grumpy whenever I wake you early?”

  “Am I grumpy now?”

  “You’re getting there.”

  “Well, I find that if I go to bed after midnight, I struggle to get out of bed at 5:30 a.m., that’s all.” Barbara pulled down her sunglasses slightly and looked at him meaningfully over the top of them.

  William took a right turn and smirked as he headed down Lexington Avenue. He knew that Barbara was referring to the late night call he had made after he’d dropped her off the previous night.

  He still had a buzz from that night. The dinner date had been wonderful and after he’d dropped her home he couldn’t get her out of his mind. On return to his condo he’d felt so restless he couldn’t sit still. Was it possible that he was missing her already? He’d felt like a love sick teen.

  He’d taken a cold shower, fixed himself a cup of tea, and tried to watch television. Finally, he’d capitulated and called her. He’d thanked her for a wonderful evening. In turn she’d thanked him and before he knew it an hour had passed and they were still chatting and laughing. Eventually, reluctantly, he had said goodbye, comforted in the knowledge that he would see her hours later.

  “Where are we going anyway?” Barbara asked.

  “City View Racquet Club. Have you ever been?”

  “No. I’m surprised that a nature lover like you would want to play tennis indoors but I guess you go to the club during the colder months.”

  “Yes. Playing tennis, or most sports for that matter, when it’s baltic is not much fun.”

  “Baltic?”

  “Very cold.”

  “Right. Seeing that my best friend’s British I feel like I should have known that.”

  “Don’t worry I’d be happy to tutor you in British slang, completely free of cost,” he returned with a wink. “Actually, not completely free. You’d pay me with the pleasure of your company.” A part of him felt that he might be laying it on too thick but he was too happy at that moment to care.

  William neatly parallel parked his car next to the building on Skillman Avenue where the club was located.

  At the receptionist desk they were greeted by a well-toned brunette with a broad smile who scanned William’s membership card and provided Barbara with a guest pass. They proceeded to the tennis courts. They were already two players facing off against each other there.

  William and Barbara played for an hour and a half. William restrained his competitive spirit. It was hard to go full throttle when one was playing against the love of one’s life. Still, he won the match 6-2; 6-3; 6-1.

  ~*~*~*~

  After the game they breakfasted at the Club’s café. Barbara shook her head and sipped her all fruit smoothie.

  “I can’t believe you talked me into getting out of bed at 5:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning and then hammered me at tennis. You call that a friendly game? You were like a combination of Federer and Nadal out there. That was not cool,” Barbara complained.

  William laughed. “Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad. You played a good game. That’s why it went on for so long.”

  Barbara took a few more pulls from her straw.

  “So, besides smoking your opponents at tennis, what other sporting endeavors do you enjoy these days?”

  William finished chewing a piece of his croissant.

  “Sailing and polo. I haven’t had the opportunity to indulge in either since January when the work on the China subsidiary intensified.”

  Barbara recalled a headline she had seen the previous year about a British polo player who had been killed in a polo accident. It triggered an instinctive sense of concern for William.

  “You still play polo, Wills? Isn’t that game a little dangerous? I read last year about this polo player who died after falling off his horse and then having it fall on him.”

  William’s eyes looked sad. “Yes, Carl Santina. I knew him well. He was a good player. What a tragedy that was. I’ll admit that polo is not a sport for the faint hearted. Don’t worry though, that was a freak accident. Such incidences are actually quite rare. The whole game of polo is like a list of safety measures and rules.”

  “Still,” Barbara insisted. “Accidents happen.”

  William took a sip of his tea as he thought about her comment. “Yes, but these are minimized if you follow the rules and if you have superior riding ability. I’ll admit that falling off a horse is always dangerous and should be avoided at all cost but I’ve been riding horses since I was three and playing this game since I was nine. I’m very skilled and I’m careful.”

  “I’m not convinced. I still say the game’s dangerous. Superior riding ability or not, accidents happen.”

  William shrugged. “The fact remains that in life, as in sport, there are going to be risks. I refuse to live a life paralyzed by fear. Love is a risk, yet what would life be without love?”

  Barbara busied herself with wiping away the condensation on her cup and didn’t respond.

  After William dropped her off he asked about her plans for that evening. Barbara told him she was meeting her sisters
for their quarterly Girls’ Night Out. She suspected that he was going to ask her out again and she was relieved that she had an excuse. Not that she needed an excuse. Okay, maybe she did need an excuse because she couldn’t seem to stop herself from saying ‘yes’ to his invitations.

  ~*~*~*~

  Barbara munched on a vegetarian burrito as her sister, Dana, regaled her, and her sister Ronnie, with tales of her five-year-old triplet’s latest exploits.

  The three sisters were dining at Toalache, a Mexican restaurant a short walk away from the Broadway theatre where they would soon be going to watch The Phantom of the Opera.

  Dana was a former supermodel turned actress who lived in Los Angeles with her movie star husband, Robert Cortelli, and their three kids. Ronnie, christened Ronalda after their father Ronald, worked as a legal assistant at a law firm in Chicago.

  Dana paused to take another bite of her Platos Fuertes, then continued. “Robert told me that when I was in Paris shooting the Lancôme commercial, he took them to this birthday party. It seems that Aaron was teasing this little girl and then ran back into the house. So the girl chased after him. Then Adam, who had gone inside to use the bathroom, comes outside minding his own business and the girl hits him thinking that he’s Aaron. So Alex, who’s seen the whole thing, comes up and shoves the girl and says, ‘Don’t you hit my brother!’ The girl’s mother comes over, asks what’s going on and then the girl says that Adam was teasing her, which of course he denies, and then guess who appears, all innocent, Aaron.”

  Barbara gave a snort of laughter and shook her head.

  “That’s what you guys get for always dressing those boys in the same clothes. I keep telling you it’s freaky.”

  “I don’t know, I think it’s cute,” Ronnie interjected.

  “Really? How would you like to be dressed exactly like someone else? You don’t even want to wear the dark business suits you’re supposed to wear in that legal firm of yours. You said and I quote, ‘I’m not dressing like I’m going to a funeral every day’.”

  “So,” Dana said, eyeballing Barbara as she sipped her Chablis. “What’s this I’m hearing about you seeing Lord William Lamport?”

  Barbara’s eyes widened in surprise. She tried to keep her tone light when she asked, “Where’d you hear that?”

  “There’s a picture of you two leaving the Waldorf together and another one of you two entering The Lion on the front page of The Stargazer. When I was in the airport bookstore this afternoon I saw them.”

  “Why would you even look at the Stargazer? It’s trash.”

  “If I see my sister on the front page with a billionaire playboy you bet I’m going to look.”

  “He’s not a playboy.”

  “Okay, you’re getting defensive. So, it’s true then,” Dana persisted. “You’re seeing him.”

  “What did the headline say?” Barbara wondered if her earlier ruminations had been prophetic.

  “I don’t remember! Will you stop stalling! Are you seeing him or not?”

  Barbara brushed a bit of lint off her royal blue sweater. “We’re just friends.”

  She was hoping against hope that this would put an end to the questioning.

  Dana paused and took another sip of her wine.

  “When did you become friends with William Lamport? Where’d you meet him?” the interrogation continued.

  Barbara sighed impatiently. “He’s Prudence’s cousin, okay? That’s how we met. Now can we drop it?”

  Dana ignored Barbara’s request. “You and Prudence have been friends for years and you’ve never mentioned him. Did you only meet him recently?”

  Barbara said nothing. She leaned back in her seat, folded her arms across her chest and stared defiantly at her sister.

  Ronnie looked from Barbara to Dana and then back to Barbara again. She knew how things could get when Dana got bossy, which was often, and Barbara got stubborn, which was often. It could get nasty. She said cautiously, “Shouldn’t we get the bill? It’s practically time to go.”

  Dana glanced down at her wrist. “We’ve still got half an hour to spare. We can leave in another 15 minutes.” She looked back up at Barbara and her expression softened. “Barbie, honey, why are you freezing us out? We’re family for heaven’s sake. It’s not like we’re going to blab to the press.”

  “I’m not freezing you out, Dana. It’s just that the whole William Lamport thing is complicated. I don’t even know how I feel about it myself.”

  Dana’s eyes widened. “Now, you know, after a statement like that you’ve got to spill everything.”

  Even Ronnie who had just signaled for the bill, drained her cup of coffee and watched Barbara with an air of expectancy.

  Barbara sighed in defeat and contemplated whether she should tell her sisters everything. Maybe it was time. Maybe she could finally talk with someone about it and not get emotional. “Okay, I will. I’ll tell you on our walk over to the theatre. It might take a while so we’d better leave now.”

  As the three sisters strolled down 8th avenue they received a few stares from people, mainly tourists, who recognized Dana and Barbara. Some whipped out their phones and took pictures of them.

  Barbara tightened the belt around her royal blue, lightweight jacket.

  “Do you remember several years ago when I went with Prudence to her family’s estate in West Sussex? It was about a year after The Lady came out.”

  Dana and Ronnie both nodded.

  “Well, that’s when I first met him. That’s when I met William.”

  Chapter 10

  Nine Years Earlier

  Barbara Dickson was 20 years old and she was a movie star. After just three film roles, she had been propelled to stardom due to the great success of the major motion picture The Lady in which she had played the lead character.

  The role had led to numerous cinematic awards. Her name was on everyone’s lips. The media feted her. Everyone from Oprah to Jay Leno wanted to interview her. Her gorgeous, young face graced countless magazine covers. One couldn’t turn on a television or open a magazine without there being some story on Barbara Dickson.

  The road to stardom had been almost instantaneous. She had gone from being a ‘nobody’ to being instantly recognizable. There was no such thing as privacy anymore – everything she did was news, everything she ate, everything she wore, everything she said.

  If she had actually had time to think about it she might have been overwhelmed. As it was, she didn’t have time to think – period. Thanks to her agent she was constantly busy: speaking to journalists and reporters, posing for magazine shoots, attending movie premiers and other high octane functions, reading scripts.

  When the buzz for The Lady had died down and after she’d finally selected her next role, the lead in Joan of Arc, she’d been so exhausted that she had wanted to crash. When her friend Prudence Brennan invited her to retreat with her at her grandparents’ estate in West Sussex, England for the summer it sounded like heaven.

  On the two-hour drive to the English countryside from Heathrow Airport, Prudence told her that spending the summer at her grandparents' estate had been a tradition ever since she had been a child and that even though she and most of her cousins were now grown most of them still loved to spend at least part of the summer there.

  Barbara asked Prudence if she would be welcomed.

  Prudence laughed incredulously.

  “Are you kidding? Everyone’s so excited to meet a real life Hollywood star.”

  Barbara was exhausted and dozed off during the ride. When they reached the estate Prudence gently shook her awake. For a moment Barbara was so disoriented she took one look at the massive, imposing structure before her and asked drowsily, “Are we at Buckingham Palace?”

  Prudence laughed. “Barbie, you are too funny. Come on let’s go inside.”

  Prudence’s grandparents, Charles and Jane Foster, the Duke and Duchess of Westminster, were so warm and welcoming that Barbara felt instantly at home, despite the
intimidating house – if you could call a 15,000 square foot, classic period home of grand proportions set on 50 acres of land, simply a house.

  Prudence had given her a little history lesson on their way to the estate so Barbara was aware that the Fosters owned large areas of land across Britain and several properties in eighteen cities across the world.

  Prudence told Barbara that the house, called Rother Hill Manor, had been built back in 1775 and had undergone extensive renovations thirteen years prior with new services throughout. It was a beautiful house with exceptional equestrian and leisure facilities, river frontage, stabling, superb views of the breathtaking Sussex countryside and three further cottages.

  Barbara had never seen so many servants before in her life.

  “I didn’t know that people still lived like this,” she whispered to Prudence in awe after the tour of the manor.

  The Fosters had six children and these in turn had eleven children altogether, only six of whom had indicated that they would definitely be spending some of the summer at Rother Hill Manor that year.

  The Duchess, who at 73 was a study in understated elegance, indicated that three cousins, Peter, Richard and Penelope, and Peter’s wife, Sue, had arrived the previous day and were out horseback riding.

  Barbara had already been informed by Prudence on the ride over that two other cousins, twins Doris and Delys, were due to arrive as soon as their semester at boarding school in Wiltshire was over in two days. Three other cousins were spending most of the summer in the Caribbean with their parents but would spend the last two weeks of their holiday at the manor.

  Patrick, the oldest of the grandchildren wasn’t coming. He had stated that he was extremely busy and couldn’t take the vacation that year. Prudence confided, “I think he believes he’s gotten too old for this. He hasn’t come for the last three years.”

  Prudence also informed her that the other cousin had started working for his father’s company the previous year and was overseeing a merger with a Japanese company. As a result, he wasn’t sure if he would be taking the holiday – but would try his best to make it if he could.