The Prince's Secret (Prince Harry Fanfic)

Part 52 - Make It Happen

Harry

I thought about my weekend in Cornwall with Samantha while I walked through my usual duties, shaking hands, listening attentively, asking the right questions to make people feel at ease. I thought about Sam, bloody after her fall during the hunt, determined to get back in the saddle and continue riding even when she knew she was injured, and could not hold back a smile. Determination like that, in the face of adversity, was a good trait to have if she was dating a royal.

I agreed, reluctantly, when Colin told me it was best that I not call Sam or text her until he could get me a more secure phone and service, so that our messages would be less likely to be hacked and published. He offered to monitor my old phone and let me know if there were any important calls or texts. It was only a few days, and I'd already told Sam I would be out of touch, so I didn't worry too much about it.

My father asked me to take on additional duties because he had a bad cold and could barely speak, so I found myself on a plane bound for Edinburgh to take his place at a charity dinner. Luckily his speech had already been written, so Colin and I had to make only a few changes to it and it was good to go.

I leaned my head against the cold window as London faded into the distance. I had participated in these charity dinners dozens of times, but now I pictured how much more pleasant this unexpected trip would be if Sam was with me. We could put our heads together and talk on the flight, and then I could watch her get dressed in a beautiful figure-hugging gown for dinner. When the velvet-lined jewelry boxes were brought out, I could help her choose which sparkling necklace and earrings to wear. We could exchange glances during dinner, fraught with meaning, and then, when it was all over, we could retire to a quiet comfortable room together and laugh, strip off our public personas, and just be Sam and Harry, eager to be alone and explore each other.

It was the first week of February and I had known Samantha for almost two months. She had only been in my life for eight weeks, and already I felt closer to her than I did to Meghan, even though we had been dating for two years.

I no longer wondered if Samantha was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I no longer felt the conflict within myself that I had felt when I first discussed the situation with Will at Christmastime. I knew who I wanted—who I needed—and unfortunately, it was not the woman I was engaged to.

It was a relief to realize that the conflict was gone and resolution had taken its place. Now I just had to figure out how to make it happen with the least amount of suffering and scandal.

I might have had a bit more to drink with dinner than usual, since there was no one at my side to raise their eyebrows every time my glass was refilled. Didn't really matter, because I wasn't driving to Holyrood and my flight back to London was late in the morning. I went to bed after a few more nightcaps with every intention of sleeping late.

Eight o'clock in the morning was not exactly late, but that's when I woke up. Footsteps had been pacing back and forth in the sitting room outside my bedroom for at least an hour, but Colin knew better than to knock on the door and wake me up.

Eventually the pacing and stopping, pacing and stopping, was enough to pull me out of sleep. Swinging my feet out of bed, I called out, "What is it?"

Colin immediately stuck his head in the door, so I knew he had been waiting for a signal. "I don't want to bother you, Sir..."

"Too late for that. What is it?"

He handed me a brand-new phone. "I had this rush-delivered from London this morning. It's a new number, but it's run through a few aliases so it should be harder to trace. It should be very secure, Sir. Virtually unhackable."

"And what is so pressing that this new super-secure phone had to be rushed to Scotland this morning, when we will be back in London this afternoon?" I asked.

"You might want to check your texts, Sir. And, uh...#Cinderella."

I took the phone and scrolled through the texts, muttering under my breath. As I stood up to pace and call Sam, Colin said, "Sir, you might also want to know...before you call..."

"What?" I barked.

"The staff at Nottingham Cottage received word that Miss Moran will be returning sometime next week."

My fingers tightened on the super spy phone and I would have thrown it across the room if it weren't so new and critical to my communication with Sam. "Fuck..." I growled, drawing the word out on a long breath.

"And Her Majesty requests your presence as soon as you are back in London."

I let loose a string of swear words that made Colin raise his eyebrows and would have impressed even my pilot buddies back in the Army. I tossed the phone to the safety of the bed and went to my suitcase, yanking on my travel clothes.

"Okay. But get Duncan on the phone and the two of you figure out somewhere...somehow...I can meet Sam for an hour."

"But Sir—I wouldn't advise that you try to see her right now. If you are photographed together again—"

"Thank you, Colin. Your words are taken under advisement." I gave him the look that brooked no argument, the look that Will often said made me look just like Prince Philip. "I understand. However, I need to see Sam before this situation gets way out of hand. Figure out a way to make that happen."