The Prince's Secret (Prince Harry Fanfic)

Part 83 - Catherine and The Moonhorse

Samantha

I was really curious to know what Catherine had heard about me, and whether she had heard it from Harry, the rest of the family, or the media, but I wasn't going to ask.

Catherine took George's hand and bent down towards him, as much as she could with her pregnant belly. "Do you remember what I told you about names?" she asked, her voice low and conversational.

"It's not nice to say anything about people's names!" Charlotte recited in a sing-song voice, skipping in behind me.

"That's right."

George looked crestfallen but nodded. "I 'member," he said quietly.

Catherine kissed the top of his head. "That's good. Do you think your new friend Sam would like some biscuits?"

He looked up at me hopefully.

"I would love some biscuits," I said.

"I'll go get some!" he said, and zoomed off down the hallway.

Harry and I settled on a sofa with Charlotte between us, but it wasn't long before she was stretched out across both our laps playing with the ends of my hair. George bounced around the room with the plate of biscuits, offering them to everyone, until Catherine suggested that it was time for baths.

"Could we please have a story first?" George begged, and Charlotte echoed, "A story! A story!" until Catherine agreed.

George ran to me and leaned into my lap. "What kind of a story do you like?" he asked.

"Sam likes stories about horses," Harry said. "Do you have any about horses?"

"Yes!" George said, and was off like a rocket for the stairs, Charlotte right behind him.

Catherine gave me a weary smile. "I hope they aren't too much for you. Some people—" and she gave Harry a meaningful look, which made me wonder if she was referring to Meg, "—some people aren't too fond of other people's rowdy children."

"I don't mind," I said with a laugh. "Back home in Vancouver I used to help out with the Pony Club short stirrup kids. That got pretty crazy sometimes when there was a big group of them."

The two youngest Cambridges came back carrying a book called Moonhorse, with an illustration of a little girl riding a winged horse through a night sky on the cover. George plopped the book in my lap.

"Here, I'll read it," Catherine said. "Maybe Samantha would just like to listen this time."

Two little pairs of eyes looked up at me, and I melted.

"That's okay. I'll read it," I said. "Hop on up here next to me."

George and Charlotte settled in on either side of me, wedging Harry to the end of the couch. He listened for a few minutes, then he and William slipped quietly out of the room. The children, engrossed in a story they had no doubt heard many times before, did not notice, and Catherine just gave me a conspiratorial look.

After I finished the story the kids clamored for another, but this time Catherine was firm. Their nanny, Maria, appeared in the doorway to take them upstairs for baths, and Catherine promised to come upstairs and tuck them in bed.

The room was quiet when they had gone and Catherine breathed out a lengthy sigh. "Thank you for reading to them. I hope they weren't too tiresome. They get so excited when we have guests."

"They were no trouble. Really. George seems to be learning to be a good host," I said.

She laughed. "Oh, yes. He takes that job very seriously." Settling back on the couch, she rested her hands on top of her baby bump. "I'm so glad to finally meet you. I've been meaning to send you a note asking you to stop by, but I wanted to give you time to settle in first. This family can be a bit...daunting to tackle."

I held back a grimace and tried my best for a smile. "Yes. Well...I've only met a few people so far. Eugenie's been very helpful."

"Eugenie is lovely but she grew up on the inside," Catherine said. "She doesn't quite understand what it's like to wake up one morning and suddenly realize that you are a princess."

She gave me an encouraging smile, and I knew that of all the people in this family, Catherine was the only one who would truly understand what I was going through.

"It's kind of scary," I said, my voice low, glancing at the hallway where Harry and William had disappeared earlier. And then I added, "I mean...some days it's scary as hell, you know?" Unconsciously I traced the scar on my left cheek, and dropped my hand when I realized it. "Somebody did this just because they were angry that I was dating Harry, because they thought he should be with Meg and not me." I knew my voice was shaking, but the words continued to tumble forth. "I don't want to spend my life wondering when the next blow might come. I don't want to worry about people's reaction when they find out that Harry and I are married....I mean, when we get married."

The next thing I knew, Catherine was beside me on the couch patting my hand. "I'm so sorry you've had to go through this," she said, and I could tell that she meant every word. "Will and I dated for almost nine years before we were married, and I had plenty of time to get accustomed to the craziness before we made it official. You and Harry haven't had that. You've been thrown out of the plane without a parachute. I can't even imagine what that must be like."

I laughed shakily at her metaphor. "Yeah, I feel like the cartoon character who's using a hankie held over their head instead of a parachute, and still hopes to land safely. If it weren't for Harry...I don't know what I'd do."

As I sniffed back something that felt suspiciously like tears, determined not to bawl all over the Duchess of Cambridge on our first meeting, Catherine hugged my shoulders.

"You're not in this alone. I know that you and Harry have...rushed things a bit," —this was her oblique reference to our elopement— "and things might be a bit difficult for you for a few months. I want you to know that I am always here to help you, even if all you need to do is vent after a long day standing in high heels, smiling so much you feel your face will crack from the strain. I'll give you my phone number, and I'm only five minutes' walk across the park."

"That is so sweet of you," I said, "but I know you're busy. You'll have another little one to take care of soon."

"Very soon, I hope," she said with a rueful laugh. "But we have a nanny to help with the children, and after a week or two I will probably be bored silly and needing someone over the age of six to talk to."

"I was supposed to come over here and cheer you up tonight," I said, rubbing at the corner of my eyes, "and I think I've failed miserably. But you've made me feel immensely better."

"Oh, you've cheered me up," Catherine said. Leaning closer, she murmured, "I was afraid I was going to have to spend the next several years standing next to Meg and pretending I liked her, and wondering what Harry ever saw in her. I don't think I'll have to pretend with you."

A door slammed suddenly, far down the hall, and Catherine and I both jumped.

"Harry!"

Harry came into the room, brows lowered, his mouth tight, William on his heels.

"Harry—I didn't mean—"

"I know what you meant," Harry said.

I got to my feet, pretty sure the visit was over. "Thank you," I said to Catherine.

She nodded, looking between Harry and her husband, clearly puzzled. "You're welcome here any time."

"Not so sure my brother feels the same way," Harry snapped.

He held out his hand and I took it, wondering what had gone on while Catherine and I were chatting, and followed him out the door.