The Prince's Secret (Prince Harry Fanfic)

Part 87 - Details and a Duchess

Samantha

The Queen and I finished our ride with more talk of horses and hounds. We did not return to the stables but instead dismounted close to Windsor Castle and handed the ponies off to Gerry and another groom.

Harry met me as we approached the castle, leaning in for a kiss as the Queen disappeared inside. "How did it go?"

"Okay, I guess. She did ask if I was pregnant."

Harry's eyes widened. "Well, that isn't a topic of conversation I thought she would bring up."

Hand in hand, we walked slowly towards the door. "Why didn't you tell me you would be joining us?"

"I didn't know. I received the summons from my father after you left."

His father. Another high-powered royal I was about to meet for the first time. "Are we in trouble?" I asked, lowering my voice as Harry held the door for me.

He laughed. "No more than usual. Don't worry, they're used to me being in trouble."

I wasn't used to being in trouble, especially not with my new royal in-laws, so this wasn't a very encouraging thought.

Harry squeezed my hand. "Don't worry. It's just tea with the Queen. It'll be okay."

There was, I learned, "tea with the Queen" that was a pleasant social affair with yummy pastries and innocuous small talk, and then there was "tea with the Queen" where the same pastries were an excuse to have a serious conversation. This was the latter.

I curtsied to the Queen when we entered, then realized I shouldn't have, because we'd already seen each other that day, but she graciously ignored my etiquette faux pas. Harry introduced me to his father as "my wife, Samantha," which felt totally strange and sounded kind of cringe-worthy when he spoke the words out loud.

Prince Charles took my hand as I curtsied, and I hoped I was getting better at it under Eugenie's tutelage. He looked older than I expected, with hair that was almost white, but his blue eyes were kind as he greeted me. "I've heard so much about you, Samantha. I'm glad to finally make your acquaintance." He tucked my hand into the crook of his arm, just like in one of those Jane Austen movies, and led me to a couch while Harry walked and chatted with the Queen.

As soon as we were all seated, with Harry and I close together on a sofa and Prince Charles and the Queen in chairs, she asked, "Have you seen this morning's papers?"

I hadn't, but by the looks on all the other faces, they had. "It seems that the news of your marriage is already being nosed about," Prince Charles told me.

"Ohhh," I said. Everyone looked at me, and I felt stupid, so I resolved to keep my comments to myself. Harry gave me a little smile and quirked his eyebrow, so I knew he was amused, at least.

"This does put some urgency in our plans to announce your marriage," the Queen said. "I have discussed the matter with the Privy Council and the Archbishop of Canterbury, as well as my barristers, and all agree that if I give my consent to your marriage—even if it is after the fact—that your marriage would be legal and binding, and would not affect the succession."

I held my breath, and Harry's grip on my hand tightened.

"Although this is not the way I would have liked to celebrate your marriage—and I would have preferred that you two had consulted with me before getting married—at this point I see no reason to postpone the inevitable. Like it or not, you are married, and I am not going to intensify the scandal by trying to force an annulment or having your marriage declared invalid just to prove a point. I will give my consent."