A Mess ~ Part Three Continued...
by Lise

The Begining
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Part Three Concluded...

Elizabeth had gone back to work. She was scheduled to open the new Queen Elizabeth Ward of some hospital, which was not that unpleasant to do. It at least distracted her.

At home she sorted through the birthday presents she had received and the many cards. They required a reply that was both friendly and not too personal. There were always a few people who would see a personal note as an invitation to start a whole correspondence, but that was not exactly Elizabeth's intention. At the moment she was not feeling particularly friendly and she caught herself thinking some less noble thoughts, so she postponed writing the thank-you notes.

She had read about Henry in the newspapers and she was not quite pleased with it. He had phoned her too, but very briefly each time and she had not been able to vent. She had always been too happy that he called and she had temporarily forgotten her frustrations.

She agreed with him abandoning the negotiations. All that mattered to her was that he should come home as soon as possible, with or without a positive result. He was the Prime Minister. This kind of thing was not in his job description, she fumed silently. He should just come home and take care of his country and not think he had some global mission.

Why did he fly around the world to talk to people when he should come home and talk to her? She was his confidante, not people in other countries. If he had any doubts or plans, he should share them with her, not with them.

Her staff avoided her as much as possible. She was touchy and irritable and it was best to stay out of her way. Naturally they talked about her behaviour behind her back. Elizabeth knew she was not very nice, but she could not help herself. She tried not to take her frustrations out on people, but some of them were incredibly stupid. Of course if she did so she read about her temper in the papers a few days later and she vowed to control herself next time, but it did not always work.

She had eventually phoned the Prime Minister's office and lashed out at them for fifteen minutes, leaving them stunned. Perhaps they could convince Henry to come home. She had even gone so far as to suggest that they invent a crisis he would need to solve, just to lure him back.

Henry had no idea Elizabeth was spinning out of control. She always sounded calm and happy if he called. He thought she was also calm and happy off the phone until his office contacted him to say Her Majesty was seriously pressing for -- actually, ordering -- his return and that she would in all likeliness have to be committed if he did not obey.

He was amazed. He knew he was staying away rather long, but he had been thinking it was more effective to handle all business at once than having to leave again soon. Once he had done all this he would be able to stay home for a longer period.

Officially the continuation of the negotiations had been postponed, so people expected him to resume them any moment, but as far as he was concerned they were finished. He had talked to some people who had all pressed him to try again, saying he had made some progress. Unfortunately they had to be the only ones who could see this progress, because he certainly could not.

He questioned their motives in spurring him on. Maybe some wanted to take over, or they were wishing for him to fail, because anyone with common sense could see that they would never get anywhere. Yet he had to find out who were his friends and this was an excellent opportunity. Perhaps Elizabeth did not realise this. But, if Her Majesty preferred it, he would return.

While the papers had reported about Elizabeth's temper, some had thought this was too negative a picture and they looked for some different things to write about her. Small snippets of news always found their way to the press and so had the fact that she had taken the boys back to school. They had quickly been identified by a mother and another mother had known they were the Prime Minister's nephews, which was how the news had spread among the parents, who were mostly well-connected in the city.

It was easy to spot or invent a relationship between Elizabeth's taking the boys to school and her insistence upon their uncle's return. Because that too had leaked out and people loved to hear about disagreements between people in high places.

It was easy to invent a reason for her wanting the PM to return and they agreed with that reason. First Elizabeth had been called bitchy, but now she was seen as a defender of national and family values. She was quite right. What was the Prime Minister doing, forsaking his family and his country by staying abroad for so long? Elizabeth's temper was forgotten and they focused solely on her sense of responsibility.

She was an extremely responsible woman, of course. They were glad to have her as their queen.

The Prime Minister was representing them well abroad and they were glad to have him too, but public opinion could not quite make up its mind as to whether this was justified or not. Some thought it was necessary and some thought he should come home as soon as possible. It was more difficult to decide about him than it was about her.

Elizabeth did not care much about what they wrote. She knew how easy it was to lose their good opinion. It was only based on two little things anyway. Another two little things might alter it completely.

She was informed that the Prime Minister would land at two o'clock that afternoon and she debated with herself whether she would go out to meet him. It would not be wise, but by the sound of it people were expecting her to scold him anyway, so why not take advantage of this and have them believe that she was doing just that while she was merely having a private chat with him in a locked room at the airfield and…

She sighed.

Did she want that? She had been extremely frustrated with him. No, she had been extremely frustrated with his absence, not with him personally. So yes, she did want that.

It immediately hit him as soon as he came off the plane to walk to the terminal. Something was amiss and seriously so. There were reporters who had run to the plane as soon as it was safe to vie for his attention. He ignored their cries and microphones, but walked on steadily, pushing his way through the crowd. In his head he was already trying to figure out how he could defend himself, but that was difficult when he did not really know what was going on. It would have something to do with his long absence, that was all he could guess.

They had not prepared him for this reception. On the plane he had not been able to use his phone and he had no clue what this was about. People would know he was expected, because his departure had been delayed due to the weather, but he had no idea why the press had turned out en masse to meet him.

"What the devil…" Howard muttered beside him.

"So you don't know either?" Henry inquired. Fortunately there were security people keeping the reporters at a distance. He could not really hear what they were shouting at him because there was another plane taking off, which was probably just as well.

"No!"

"What's the commotion?" Henry asked the officials when they had been ushered inside the terminal.

"The Queen, My Lord."

"The Queen?" he repeated uncomprehendingly. "What's wrong with her?" He hoped she had not died suddenly and he could not help looking anxious.

"She's here."

"Here?" That was a relief if one had been fearing she was dead, but not such a relief if one thought of the consequences of her being here. Henry did not know what to feel.

"Yes, My Lord, and they're wondering why." The official gestured to the reporters outside, who were now pressing their noses and cameras to the glass of the windows to get a better view of what was going on inside.

Henry drew in his breath. "Oh." There was not much more he could say about this situation than that. "Isn't it time to make army airfields inaccessible to the public?" He had always been under the impression that they were guarded.

"They are, My Lord, but you're not at an army airfield. You had to land at a civilian airfield because of the fog."

"Christ," he muttered. He always had the greatest luck in the world. "Why couldn't we have waited for the fog to lift?" He would have preferred to land quietly and unobserved and why did Elizabeth have to come to a civilian airfield with the press in tow? How had they learned of that anyway? And how had his destination so completely escaped his notice? It was true that he had taken a nap on the plane, but someone could have told him all the same. They could have flown him off to Siberia without him noticing!

"My Lord, we did wait, for three hours, but it didn't lift," Howard reminded him. "We were redirected."

It could not be helped anymore and he had to move on. He would tell them later that he would like to know where they were taking him, even if he could have no influence on it. "Well, where is she?"

"Who?" the official asked.

"The Queen," Henry said patiently. Who else?

"In our VIP waiting room."

It was amazing that such a small airfield should have a VIP waiting room, but this was not the time to comment on that or laugh at it. "Lead me there," Henry ordered.

"Lead you to the Queen?" Henry's order seemed to puzzle the officials. They stared at him in confusion.

"Obviously." Henry had had others dictate his movements for the past few days, but he was taking control now. He had to take control. He wanted -- needed -- to see Elizabeth. There was no way he would leave here without having seen her. A few stupid officials could not keep him away from her. If they did not show him the way, he would find her himself.

Even knowing that she was nearby made his heart beat faster. He had never reacted to a woman this way before and before Elizabeth he had never thought it possible that he might. Of course he had never considered marrying anyone before either. He had reconciled himself to the fact that he was a bit of a cold fish when it came to loving anyone outside of his family, but apparently he had been wrong.

"But My Lord, she didn't say she came here to see you." They hesitated, not wanting to do anything the Queen would not like. It was true that they could not think of any other reason for her presence, but she had not said anything specifically and one should never assume anything with regard to Her Majesty.

"I don't care if she came to spot planes. She's here and I want to see her." Henry looked around for signposts pointing to the VIP waiting room. The building was small and it could never be far away. He would look behind every door if necessary.

"It's upstairs." All eyes turned towards the stairs the official pointed at. There was a woman at the top of the stairs and she beckoned. Then she disappeared. Nobody could guess how long she had been standing there.

"Yes, that's her," said Henry. It had clearly been Elizabeth. She had not smiled and he wondered what mood she was in. He was not aware of how his expression changed and that even the most casual of observers would begin to wonder why precisely he wanted to see her.

His own people accompanied him upstairs. Elizabeth stood waiting outside the room and he could not guess what she was thinking of his escorts. Her eyes had sought his, however, and he could not help but feel happy upon seeing her.

"Kindly leave me alone with my husband," she requested, taking pleasure in the looks of shock and surprise. Her directness had even stunned Henry, but he was quick to recover. Only this would have the desired result. They were never going to leave them alone otherwise and she desperately needed some privacy to talk to Henry.

"Symbolically, you mean, Madam?" Howard asked faintly. Lord Setchley had better not have worked himself into a mess of unimaginable proportions by being married. That would be the end of him and he would know it. "You could be seen as the Mother of the Nation, symbolically, and with a bit of imagination Lord Setchley could be seen as the Father of the Nation." He tried to talk a way out of it.

"That is a bit more imagination than I have!" Elizabeth answered. "He's my husband, period!" She stretched out her hand and pulled Henry's sleeve. "Come." She was impatient to be alone with him and reluctant to waste any more time or words. Her eyes were bright and imperative and nobody dared to oppose her.

Henry followed her into the waiting room. Nobody else was there, surprisingly, and he was amused to note that she shut the door in Howard's face. Within seconds she was in his arms and he looked down into her anxious face. The imperative look had vanished.

"I handled this all wrong, didn't I?" she asked softly. "But I was really going out of my mind. I missed you."

Henry held her against him tightly. "I missed you too."

"But why didn't you come home?" she said in a plaintive voice.

"I'm here now."

"Two weeks!" But all the longings and anxiousness of the past two weeks were forgotten now and she smiled up at him happily.

"You're even more beautiful than two weeks ago," Henry said sincerely, stroking her face.

"You're flattering me."

"I'm not."

She lay her head against his shoulder. "I can't be beautiful. I've been insufferable because you were away. I haven't been feeling happy at all, but who was I to stop you from leaving?"

Everybody had always left her alone, Henry realised. Mary had told him what Elizabeth had let slip about her schooldays. He loved her and he supposed her parents had loved her, but all of them had left Elizabeth alone and nobody had cared enough to wonder if she might be lonely. He pressed her against him as if to convince her that he was speaking in earnest. "I won't ever leave you again."

"Don't make promises you cannot keep, Henry," she answered, but this was what she had wanted to hear. She raised her head and lightly kissed him on his lips. She had enough courage to do that now. In Brazil she had let Henry take the lead, but she was a quick learner and she was no longer as startled by the feelings the touch of his lips aroused in her. However, after two weeks she was sufficiently out of practice to tremble.

Henry loved her so much that he could only hold her while he was trying to find a way to express his feelings. This would not be a repetition of Brazil. That had been an opportunity that could not be wasted, because they had known deep inside that there would not be any others. Right now, however, they knew there would be many others and there was no need to rush things. Elizabeth had been overwhelmed by her emotions then and she had stopped thinking, just like her emotions had made her insufferable during the past week, he supposed. He had always believed he could not be overwhelmed, or that it was an undesirable state, but standing here and sharing it with Elizabeth was extremely pleasant. Because she knew, just like he knew it about her. It was a little amazing.

She relaxed against him and smiled. "I'm going to take you home, Henry," she murmured.

"Please."

"We're going to talk to the press now," Henry announced when he came out of the waiting room.

"Both of you, My Lord?" Howard asked in alarm. He would not allow it if that was their intention. They had just spent some time in that room in private and it did not seem a good idea to face the press now, although he deduced they had spoken at least a little.

Elizabeth slipped out behind Henry. "No. While Henry distracts the press, I shall sneak out of the building on the other side." She briefly rested her hand on his back as she spoke.

Howard was still not reassured. "And what will you say?" he asked Henry, feeling slightly embarrassed at seeing this display of affection.

Henry was rather miffed. "Don't you all look as if this is the first time it occurs to you that Elizabeth is a woman!" They were studying her with far too much curiosity.

"I'm used to that," Elizabeth said generously. It had only been recently that it had occurred to her herself.

Henry put an arm around her. "I would only love a woman of flesh and blood!"

She grinned her assent and told him to go. "I'll see you later."

It did not appear to occur to the assembled reporters that Henry's stopping outside was a manoeuvre calculated to cover up Elizabeth's departure. They gathered around him and even fell silent when they discovered he was willing to speak. Given the fact that some came running from around the corners, nobody was left watching the other exits.

"It's bloody cold out here," Henry shuddered. "Let's go inside." There was a practically empty hall waiting for them, from where no one would be able to see Elizabeth's car leave. "If we organise this in an orderly fashion I'm willing to answer some of your questions."

This was the chance of a life time, so they meekly followed him inside and took the seats Henry indicated.

"My Lord," Howard interrupted in a concerned voice. He always said My Lord, even though any other person who had spent such long days with the Prime Minister might have begun to call him Henry. Howard knew the Prime Minister would not mind if he did -- he did not insist on formalities at all -- but he could not bring himself to be so familiar with him. Even the Queen said Henry; he had heard that, and he supposed Lord Setchley would call her Elizabeth to her face as well, but Howard was not one of those people who could easily do that.

"Howard, shut up," Henry told him amiably. "Let me handle this." He stood surveying his 'class' and rejoiced in the fact that there was in all likeliness but one plane a day departing from this airfield. Save for a cleaner in the corner and the airfield officials, the hall was empty. "We shall start right there," he pointed towards the right-hand end of the row, "and then follow down the rows to give all of you the chance to ask a question -- one question per person, to be fair towards your colleagues. And I should appreciate it if no one spoke out of turn. If necessary, we shall have a second round." He nodded at the man at the right end. "Yes, sir?"

Since this was the first one, he did not have such a very pertinent question prepared. "Did the Queen come to see you?"

Henry clasped his hands behind his back. "Yes, she did." He nodded at the next man.

"Why, My Lord?"

"Because she wanted to see me." He again nodded at the next person. Was this the serious press? They must be having an off-day as far as intelligent questions were concerned. He did not mind much, since he was not eager to give intelligent replies.

"I think, Lord Setchley," said this next person respectfully. "That it would be quicker if you just told us the entire story instead of wasting valuable time by letting us drag it out of you question by question."

"This is my game," Henry said with an amused smile. "My rules apply. Your question, please?"

"Why did she want to see you?"

"Because she knows that all men like it if there's a beautiful woman waiting for them when they come off the plane."

"Where is she now?"

"On her way home, thanks to your helpfulness," Henry smiled. He was amused that they realised only now that she had got away. One-nil to him.

"Is she angry with you?"

"No, she's not."

"Then why did she come to see you?" was the next question.

Henry sighed. "I just said she came to see me because she wanted to see me." They were appallingly unintelligent today. "Shall we switch to politics, gentlemen? You appear to be more knowledgeable about that."

The next journalist obeyed. "Are you satisfied with the outcome of the negotiations?"

"What outcome?" Henry asked rhetorically. "No, I'm not exactly satisfied."

"When will you continue?"

"I have just promised my wife I would not leave her again," Henry said with a shrug. "Unless the negotiations come to me, I will not participate in them anymore." The mention of his wife threw them off balance, he noticed.

Someone wasted his one chance by asking, "are you married?"

"You may depend on it that I am married if I mention a wife," Henry nodded.

"When did you get married?"

"A short while back," he answered without specifying the precise date.

"To whom?" Another bright star was wasting his opportunity.

"To my wife." Henry did not want to let them get off so easily. Revealing answers were not given freely. One had to do some creative and intelligent thinking in order to be thus rewarded. And it was really not that difficult. How many women had been brought up in connection with him so far? Three. Surely it did not require any genius to figure out that all three were one and the same?

"So if the negotiations were held here, you'd give it another shot?"

"If my wife could convince me to do so, I would." He was all for confusing the buggers.

"Why your wife?"

"Because she's a very intelligent woman," Henry replied. "I have absolute faith in her judgement."

"Does she know enough about politics to say anything about it?"

"Since when has that been a requirement?" He raised his eyebrows. "I've always assumed it was open to all. One does not need to be intelligent to speak about politics, nor does one need to speak about politics to be intelligent."

"Do you consider it a failure on your side to have abandoned the negotiations?"

"I believe it was the best thing to do," Henry answered. "So, no. I do not think I failed."

"So you are not displeased?"

"I'm not displeased at all. I'm very happy to be home again. Well, I have to admit that there's one slight matter that I was displeased with while I was in the Middle East and that is the coverage of my mobile phone network. I could barely use it."

"We've read that you phone your family every day. Is that true?"

"I don't lie, so I must say yes, except when I'm in the Middle East. My phone didn't work. It was very frustrating."

That led the next person, who had read about the phone calls to his family, to ask a question about the children. "Why did the Queen take your nephews to school while you were away?"

There was really a simple answer to that question, Henry thought. He was enjoying this. "Because they're not old enough to drive a car themselves."

"But surely there are other people who are more likely to do it?"

"A busy man never questions the motives of volunteers, but he is simply glad for their help," Henry orated. He was really spouting wisdom today.

Howard knew the Prime Minister had a knack for making journalists ask stupid questions and leading them away from the intelligent queries they had prepared beforehand. Perhaps a crowd partly made up of Royalty watchers only contributed to this effect even more. If the journalists were female they were usually even more stupid, but today they were predominantly male. Howard should think they were therefore less likely to be wrapped around the Prime Minister's little finger, but he was apparently wrong.

The Prime Minister's unpredictability had caused his staff many a sleepless night in the beginning, but by now they were sufficiently used to him to only have the occasional heart failure.

Howard stood watching and listening. He knew Lord Setchley well enough to realise that had the man wanted everyone to know about the Queen, he would have said so right away. At the moment he appeared to be toying with his audience, but it was not entirely clear to Howard if there was going to be a revelation at the end. So far there had only been hints, but some of those were big enough, he should think. "What is he doing?" he whispered to Johnson.

Johnson shrugged. "I think you and I should pray that nobody insults his woman." He had seen a slight tensing of Lord Setchley's shoulders when the journalist had questioned his wife's knowledge of politics. The reply had been light, but it was clear to those who knew him well that Lord Setchley was either unsettled or challenged by an insult to his wife. It was a fact that he would become even more unpredictable if that happened.

The questioning continued. "Why have you always hidden your exact relationship with your nephews?"

"How much more exact can I get than admitting they're my nephews?" Henry wondered. "I have never pretended they were my brothers." He was glad that they only had one question per person. Now they had been steered away from asking why his wife had not taken the boys back to school. The information had not really sunk in yet, apparently. "But if you meant to ask me why I never revealed that I consider them to be my children, I can only answer that I did not yet think of them that way two years ago. I do now, but I think it's better for them to be left out of this discussion."

"But what do they think of your dalliances with women?"

"They don't read the newspaper. They only know one woman -- and so do I, actually."

"Is that the woman from Brazil or has she been replaced already?"

"No, she has not been replaced and she never will be."

"But don't you think a beauty in a bikini is not quite the right sort of mother?"

Henry's eyebrows shot up. No, he did not think that! Elizabeth was beautiful, but he was sure she was a good mother. "That's a pretty sexist thing to say. I hate to burst your bubble, but my wife does not dance through the house in a bikini. If I caught her wearing a bikini in this weather I'd have her committed! But returning to your point, I don't think beauty has anything to do with being a good mother. Beauty doesn't even have anything to do with being a good person, although people who are good are more beautiful to me."

"They're well suited," Johnson commented in a low voice. "Doesn't that waffling remind you of the Queen's Christmas speech?"

"I didn't pay attention to it," Howard confessed.

"It was full of good and beautiful and love."

Howard was glad he had not paid attention to it then. It did not sound like his cup of tea. "She brainwashed him?"

"Undoubtedly."

His audience was sufficiently boggled, Henry noted in satisfaction when he took his leave. Some really looked lost. He had not revealed anything directly, but he was sure that deeper investigations into his statements would follow. Before the media would begin to spread false rumours, he and Elizabeth would have to come up with something good. The press had only temporarily been put off.

Elizabeth was practically singing as she arrived home. She could only wait for Henry now. Some people she passed gave her odd looks, which was no wonder given her behaviour of the past week. That was all over now. She was happy again.

Her mother noticed the change. "Is he coming here?" she asked, concentrating on her knitting.

"Yes, he is." Elizabeth stretched herself out on the couch. She did that an awful lot lately.

The Queen Mother said nothing and continued knitting. She knew that Elizabeth had gone to pick him up, something she had thought extremely daring, but fortunately Elizabeth had seemed wise enough not to take him back home directly.

They would have to come clean someday soon, she reflected. Perhaps they should have done so today. She imagined a long kiss on a windy airfield and sighed. People would love that, but it was unlikely that either Henry or Elizabeth would lose control to such an extent. Not yet, anyway. Elizabeth had always been a remarkably controlled girl and that was not always good.

She had not known if Henry was controlled until she had seen him deal with the attacks on his person in Parliament. He had won her respect then for his loyalty, but she had also worried for Elizabeth's sake. He might give in at some point and abandon her just because he was being attacked too much. But he had not done that.

Elizabeth only had to lie there for an hour -- Henry had ordered his chauffeur to drive fast. He bent over her and kissed her until the Queen Mother cleared her throat. "You blackguard! You stay away for two weeks and then you have the nerve to kiss my daughter?" she scolded him. Despite her words, she had a weakness for the man.

Henry sat on the floor. "Be glad I go no further."

"Oh, don't kill her, Henry," Elizabeth laughed softly.

"You think he could kill me?" the Queen Mother cackled. She had been married. She knew what could be done. It would hardly kill her to hear about it. Linnie, with her one and only man, would far sooner be shocked. And Henry was hardly a subtle man of the world. Well, verbally he might be, the Queen Mother conceded, but he did not appear to be as sophisticated in matters to do with women. "I could kill him! But it's no fun to try. It's too easy." She smoothed out the baby sweater she was knitting to see how much more she would have to do. That was how subtle they were! They did not notice a thing.

Both Elizabeth and Henry thought she was too old to really know what she was saying and they preferred to stare into each other's eyes. He wondered if anyone was going to notice that he was here. It was likely, but he did not care about that right now.

Elizabeth's mother went to bed quite early when they picked up on none of her clues. They were really quite tiresome in their thickness and perhaps she should leave them to themselves.

Elizabeth had hesitated for a short moment as she contemplated where she should take Henry. He was most obviously not leaving and she did not want him to, either.

"We're married," he said, guessing her thoughts.

"Not a guest room, then?"

"That's fine with me as long as you come with me."

"Well, I was just thinking that people might find you in the morning," Elizabeth said doubtfully. Just as he had nephews barging in, she had her staff. They might be shocked upon finding Henry with her. No space was truly private here.

"I'd say they'd have to get used to it," Henry answered matter-of-factly.

"I know, but you might not like it."

"Don't mind me. I know you come at a price." He pushed her softly into her bedroom. He had been there once and it still looked the same, except for the bedclothes.

Henry stood behind her and slid his hands around Elizabeth's waist to rest them on her stomach. It felt different. This was not the lean body he remembered. Was he even allowed to think such a thought? He would not mind if it had changed, he told himself. His hands explored a little and he found that the body was still lean, except for the stomach. It seemed to have grown. That was strange. His breath caught in his throat as his mind jumped to conclusions. This usually happened to pregnant women only. He had to know. "Linnie, have you told me everything?" He did not suppose she would have withheld this from him, so perhaps she had not noticed it, although that would be odd.

Her head turned. "Yes," she said in wonder. "What do you mean?" She had not felt anything strange about his touch.

"This." He lay both his hands on her stomach, more gingerly than he had done at first. If his guess was correct, he had to be careful with it now.

"Oh, I got a little fatter," she said in embarrassment and tried to push his hands away.

"No, Linnie." His hands resisted the push. Nothing could get them away from there and certainly not if she was going to have a baby. "Are you pregnant?"

Elizabeth's head turned again, in shock this time. "Pregnant? I-I-I can't."

Henry stroked her stomach. "Where does this come from then?" he asked very gently. It protruded enough for him to question the fact that she could not have children. Doctors were proven wrong sometimes.

"I've wondered about that too," she confessed. "But --"

He buried his face in her hair as he stifled a gasp. She had wondered. One did not wonder about ordinary things. "So it isn't normal?"

"No, but --"

"Linnie!" He wished she would see the obvious too.

She choked. "I never told you, but I can't get pregnant." She closed her eyes so she would not see his reaction. He would be disappointed.

"Says who?" Henry said challengingly. He would not believe that anymore unless a good doctor told him it was indeed so.

She winced at his reaction. It was quite normal for him to question her words. He would have expectations. "It's painful for me to talk about it."

He realised that, but he also realised that it had to be done. "You need to." If he had not come along, she would have ignored the matter until she was too old, for fear of being disappointed and hurt. She would never have put her body to the test, simply because someone had once said something that might have been wrong. It was a lot less painful to remain disappointed than to have her hopes killed -- he knew that. Still, it would be far more painful if things went wrong simply because she had been afraid to face the truth. Suppose she had a miscarriage. He wanted to spare her that pain.

"No, I don't. Please just accept it."

Henry's voice became softer. "Linnie, I read about it. I knew it might hurt you, but I wouldn't have brought it up if I hadn't felt your body has changed."

Elizabeth stifled a sob. "How could you know my body?" They had only been married for such a short time and they had hardly spent enough days together for him to know her body well. She did not want him to be wrong. That would hurt so much. She would rather not know.

"You know your body and you know it has changed," Henry persisted relentlessly. Her reaction convinced him that Elizabeth had realised very well that something had changed and this supported his belief.

She closed her eyes and leant against him. She was about to give in. "I didn't understand it."

Her use of the past tense gave Henry some encouragement. She was beginning to accept his words. "You wouldn't allow yourself to hope." He understood that. Poor Linnie. She would not have been able to reconcile these facts to her beliefs, but facts could not be changed and beliefs could. It was simple.

"No," Elizabeth admitted. She had not allowed any hopes to enter her mind. She left it all to Henry now. He was good at solving this. He made her feel as if any outcome would be alright and it made the tears stream silently down her cheeks.

"But if you think about it, all the conditions for conception were met -- a man, a woman and an opportunity."

That brought a smile to Elizabeth's face and her tears suddenly trickled into the corners of her mouth. "A man, a woman, attraction and an opportunity." There had been lots of opportunities with men she had not been attracted to. They had not automatically led to something.

"Tell me you haven't been getting your periods." Henry hoped fervently that this last thing would not spoil everything. He had not got her to the point of smiling only to see the entire imaginary structure collapse.

"No, but --"

"Linnie!" he groaned almost triumphantly. He was almost going to say something about her being blind, when he realised that one's outlook coloured one's perceptions. She would not have attached any importance to these signs. A woman trying to get pregnant would have interpreted them quite differently.

"But I skipped a month last year and I wasn't pregnant then," she protested, trying to suppress the feeling of excitement that came bubbling up.

"One month! And this year?"

"I don't know. A few. Two. But I tend to skip them when I'm on the thin side." She could not completely give in to optimism just yet.

"And you said you'd got fat. Linnie!" There was no doubt in Henry's mind anymore. She was pregnant. "Go and see a doctor."

"Oh, I cannot. Everyone would find out."

Elizabeth had a very restless night because she kept worrying that someone might find Henry with her in the morning. She knew the whole world had lovers who stayed the night and nobody ever considered that a problem. However, if she was seen -- or caught, which was how it felt -- with her husband, everybody would consider this a problem.

She kept imagining servants come into the room and then imagining herself telling them that Henry was her husband before they could think anything else. It was stupid and she knew it. She did not have to defend herself. It was nobody's business just what sort of relationship she had with Henry and how they expressed this.

After such a positive turn in her reflections there was invariably a gloomier one. She wondered why she had such problems with what people might think. Did she not love Henry enough? But she did. That was not it.

Her fidgeting drove Henry crazy. "Let's make a nuisance of ourselves," he said close to three o'clock in the morning, when it felt as if he had taken only three five-minute naps because she was constantly tossing and turning.

"How?" Elizabeth was becoming irritated with her own restlessness. She hoped he had a plan to make her sleep.

"Get dressed."

"Now? I want to sleep," she protested.

"We'll go to my house and sleep there." He got out of bed and started to pull on his clothes. Initially he had considered it a good statement to stay and to be found there, but this far into the night he simply wanted to sleep and any statement could wait. "I don't have any people coming into my room in the morning."

"Did you say we?" Elizabeth tried to look at him in the dark. If he was going anywhere, she was coming along.

"I did." And if she was not coming voluntarily, he would make a good effort at kidnapping the Queen from her own palace.

"Isn't it just as conspicuous for me to be discovered at your house as it is for you to be discovered in my bed?" she asked doubtfully. In that case she would not sleep any better there than here. Perhaps his staff was less loyal and discreet than hers.

"If the bed isn't why you're fidgeting I'll go home alone." If it was her possible pregnancy, then it would not help matters at all if they changed beds. If it was a combination of both, it would become less if they relocated.

"No!" Elizabeth switched on the light and blinked. "What do I take with me?" Her tired brain tried to deal with this question, but it was a hard one.

"Clean clothes for in the morning," Henry advised. "That's going to take you ages, isn't it? While you sort that out, I'm going to arrange a car."

"But you don't know how!"

"I can find out." Even if he could not find a car, someone would find him if he roamed the Palace at three in the morning. At least, he expected security to be attentive enough for that.

"And what will you tell them?"

"That we need to continue this crisis meeting at my place, because I don't have some crucial documents with me," Henry said glibly. Security knew he had arrived, but he did not know whether they also knew he had not left yet. Perhaps he was trustworthy enough to be ignored if he took Elizabeth with him. He was trusted to take care of their welfare, so in theory he should also be trusted enough to take care of their queen.

If their nocturnal trip should leak out, it would have to be their staff, Henry had thought, unless there were freaks who kept a permanent eye on either of the residences. The night guard had let them in, but he had long ago stopped wondering why the Prime Minister came home at a certain hour. There were meetings that ran late quite frequently.

Henry's move had been wise. Elizabeth had not been restless here and she had slept soundly. She watched him with feelings of wonder as she woke. How could someone like him love her? He was too good, too handsome, too sweet, too everything. This was how it should be -- just the two of them, no staff peeking in to see if she was ready. She had never minded that they did, because what had she really had up till now that could not be seen by them? Her night gown? Henry looked charming enough in his sleep not to be hidden, but it was not Henry himself that would be the problem. It was how far or close she might be to Henry that was the worrisome thing, when that was really only the result of their feelings. But she was still afraid that someone would criticise her feelings.

Henry felt a soft touch on his cheek and he opened his eyes. She was gazing at him far too seriously and he did not like that. They should be happy and relaxed here. Fortunately he saw a smile begin to creep into her face, starting with the eyes. That was good. That was how it should be.

Last night he had taken her into this room in the dark, because Elizabeth had insisted on only turning on the light in his sitting room so as not to reveal to possible watchers outside that she had been in his bedroom at all, but in the daylight flooding the room now he could see that it was perhaps not fit to entertain a lady in. The floor was strewn with clothes, documents and books and it was a wonder they had not tripped. Most of it had been kicked under the bed as Henry had led Elizabeth into the room, but enough of it was still visible.

She did not seem to notice. "It's ten o'clock. I'm almost afraid to look out of the window." Someone must have found out by now and they would be waiting for her to come out.

"Are you expecting snow?" Henry inquired, although he knew very well what she was fearing and it was not snow. He was not as worried as she was, knowing that if there was really an angry mob outside, he would have been warned already. Not even leaving the phone off the hook could prevent people from contacting him in some way or another.

"I'd be happy with snow."

"I'd be happy to show the world that I love you," he said quietly, in case she had any doubts about that. Nobody would wonder what he saw in her. People who did not know her personally would see she was the most beautiful woman on earth and people who did know her would know she was a wonderful person. The problem was that not many people saw her as a person.

"I'd be happy too, if I knew people would accept." She was not ashamed of him, but she did not want any unfair criticism. So much was expected of her that it was undoable for a human being to even try to live up to these standards. She could not help failing at being a saint.

"Make them accept and you can't do that if you don't look certain of yourself. I know you are, but you don't always look it yet."

"Thanks for knowing that I am."

"That took us nearly two years." Henry reached out and laid his hand on her stomach. He would nearly forget that. "How do you really feel about it now?"

"I'd love it," she said softly. "I don't have to ask you, do I? But it'll be your fourth." She wondered if it made a difference to him.

"You don't sound very doubtful about it anymore," Henry noted. "It'll be your fourth as well, my dear. You have three stepchildren now." He knew she would not ignore them and neither would he.

They lay thinking about that for a while. Eventually Henry replaced the telephone receiver that he had taken off the hook last night and immediately it began to ring. It was Mary and she was reasonably agitated. "Why are you at home? Have you been watching TV? There were things on TV this morning."

"What things?" Henry asked. He had an inkling that he was not going to like those things.

"Elizabeth picked you up from the plane, they say, and then you said you were married, but they don't know to whom and they think Elizabeth went there to tell you off, but that you tried to cover this up by saying you were married." Mary paused to catch her breath. "That was this morning before school. I don't know what they're saying now. The break isn't long enough for me to check."

"Er…" It was all bit much for Henry. "This is on TV?"

"Yes! There are people outside the Palace."

"Then they're in the wrong place," he concluded with a relieved grin. "She's here. And that is not to tell me off."

"Who is that?" Elizabeth asked. She did not want everyone to know she was here. This had better be a trustworthy person.

"Mary." Henry handed her the receiver. On the one hand he was curious about what was being shown on TV, but on the other he did not want to see it at all. He was glad he had kept the phone off the hook and his mobile switched off. More people would have been trying to call him.

"Mary?"

Mary repeated her news again. "It was on breakfast TV!"

"Oh…" Elizabeth sighed as she tried to think of a way out. "Statement, statement…"

"Apparently Henry's been giving out some very confusing statements already." Mary could interpret them correctly, but no one else appeared to have been able to do that so far.

"If they had a single working brain cell in their heads, they would have figured it out already," Henry commented. "Tell her she doesn't have to worry about it."

"You don't have to worry about it," Elizabeth told Mary, but she was not at all certain that saying this was going to work. "That doesn't help, does it?" she asked gently. "Let me tell you some good news before you go back to your lessons."

"Hasn't your lesson already started?" the headmistress inquired as she saw Mary sneak back into the school a considerable time after the buzzer had sounded.

Mary's happy smile left her face immediately and she looked anxious when she looked at Mrs Taylor. "Er…" She checked her watch. "Y-Y-Yes, I think so." She had heard the buzzer and meant to act upon it as soon as possible, but apparently more time had passed than she wished.

"I think so too." The headmistress crossed her arms. "What were you doing outside?" She sounded more interested than reproachful.

"I had to call my father." Mary continued when there was no reaction. "I was going to return to class on time, but -- but Elizabeth had some good news for me…" She did not finish her sentence, as it might reveal too much, yet she wanted to reveal enough to make it clear that it was a really important phone call.

"Don't they know you're at school?" She did not want to encourage the girls to phone their parents during school hours. The mention of Elizabeth intrigued her, however. By her father Mary would mean Lord Setchley and apparently he was with Elizabeth. That was interesting, given the news on TV.

Mary cringed. "Yes and I was going to hang up in time, but I had to listen to what she was telling me. It was important. If I had said I had to go, she might have felt that I didn't like her news." She looked at the headmistress pleadingly. "And I think that maybe a lot of people won't like it, so it was really important."

"And you will?"

"Yes." Mary nodded. "I will. But my schoolwork won't suffer. I'm only a little late for this lesson," she said hastily, heading off any remarks to that effect.

"Because you were concerned about your uncle. Or father. What is it nowadays? It's good that you mentioned him. I wanted a word with you about him, Miss Breckingham. This morning on the news I saw some worrisome things," said Mrs Taylor. "Perhaps I am the only person who believes he married Elizabeth, but such a marriage would make you the Queen's stepdaughter." That would lead people to be interested in Mary and also in the school. And it had suddenly placed Mary in the heiress category, girls at risk. They had a few of those at school and she always had to make sure they did not go with the wrong people.

"Yes." Mary smiled.

The headmistress did not want to scare the girl unduly by telling her she would have to be more careful now. She decided not to say what she had planned about dangers, but changed it into something light. "Well, I'm glad that your father at least had the presence of mind to choose an alumna of our school. Let's hope he'll have more time to spend on you now."

"Elizabeth will and she promised me that even after the baby she wouldn't forget us." Mary was thinking too much about that, still worrying a little despite the promise, and she did not realise what she had just said.

Mrs Taylor had and she did a double take. If this mess was not big enough already they had to add a baby? Elizabeth and Mary were quite right in thinking that some people were not going to approve of that. It was not that those people begrudged her any children, but they would not like how she would have them with the Prime Minister, who should have been busy with politics rather than the monarchy. Again, the girl should not worry about this. It was something for the adults to solve themselves. "Oh my goodness. Lord Setchley already has three children he can't handle. Why does he want a fourth?" she said humorously.

"He didn't want anything," Mary defended Henry gravely. "It just happened. And he can handle us. No problem."

Mrs Taylor remembered the heartbroken heap of a girl who had been brought here two years ago by a no doubt well-meaning, but clueless uncle. Both niece and uncle had changed considerably. But still, she recognised, the girl needed a mother figure to fill the painful gap the death of her parents had left behind. Elizabeth obviously had gaps too. After all, she had been the one to take the first step towards that strange arrangement they had made on the school's anniversary.

She had only ever seen the children with one of the couple, never actually the couple together, so she could only guess at what role the children had played leading up to this marriage. Even Elizabeth had seemed fond of them and Mrs Taylor could not really tell whether Elizabeth was fonder of the children than of Lord Setchley or which feeling had come first, although she had her suspicions. "When did they get married?"

"The day after Christmas. We went to walk the dogs with my Uncle Tom and then Grandma, Henry, Elizabeth and Amanda all went somewhere else and when they got back they were married."

"She spent Christmas with you then?" She suppressed the desire to know more about that. She was supposed to help this girl, not to hinder her.

Mary nodded. "She was with us and we were with her until we went back to school."

The headmistress nodded as well, but more slowly. "Thank you for telling me. You see, people might inquire and I prefer to know the truth when they ask me anything, so I know just what I should avoid telling them. If I only know one detail, I might not know that detail is important and I might tell people about it."

"W-W-Would people ask you?" Mary looked frightened. She wondered if she had revealed too much.

"They already did," she said dryly. "There was quite a big fuss about your brothers. Of course I was contacted too. They wanted to know who brought you back to school. I told them I never give out information about girls to people other than their parents." The media had found their way to her once and they would find it again. She was sure of that. But Mary looked relieved by her answer. There would be an official statement soon, however, and she could only hope that the couple would think of the children as well.

Elizabeth's mother had also seen the commotion on television and outside. She had discovered that her daughter was not even at home to react to the news. That was perhaps for the best, because Elizabeth might become nervous if she felt the palace was besieged by reporters.

Henry's words of the day before needed a clarification. To the careful listener they were clear enough, but apparently no one was sufficiently careful. Either that, or no one dared to believe them.

Henry had taken the first step and now someone had to take the second. There was no turning back. Someone had to tell the public Elizabeth and Henry were married and quite frankly, the Queen Mother could not see either of them do it themselves. It was unthinkable for Henry to do it without Elizabeth, given his lower social ranking. It was equally unthinkable for Elizabeth to do it all by herself, for personal reasons. She would not want to and she would not be capable of doing it well. Having them announce it together was an option, but the Queen Mother thought nothing good could come of that for as long as they were still used to hiding anything they felt in public. Linnie would act stiffly or Linnie would giggle -- she was not entirely certain about that, but neither reaction was desirable for a queen who was seriously confessing her love. If she was too stiff, they would not believe she was in love. If she was too giggly, they would not believe she was serious.

Elizabeth's mother had her mind set on doing it herself anyway. Linnie and Henry did not know how to sell themselves when they had to. It should be left to the older people and at any rate, this was a task for the parents and not for the married couple themselves.

There was nobody outside his house who was not normally there, so Henry had a quiet breakfast with Elizabeth. After that he took her downstairs into his offices. They were surprised to see her there, but not overly so. After all, some of them had seen her yesterday at the airfield where she had said Henry was her husband. It was not all that strange for her to have been with him. In fact, should they be asked for their opinions, they would say that wives ought to live with their husbands, although perhaps not in this case. Henry stopped them from calling emergency crisis meetings about the situation. They loved those, but he did not and he would try to hold off on them for as long as possible. He was sure they were holding meetings among themselves anyway, but he did not care much.

Henry had insisted on going with Elizabeth to the doctor's, but it would of course be very suspicious for him to accompany her and certainly now. He had come up with a different construction and they had discussed it over breakfast. "Howard, make an appointment with a women's doctor for Mary. For today." It had to be done today, when things were still relatively quiet.

Howard pulled a face. "Which one?"

Henry studied a scrap of paper. "This one." He gave it to Howard. "Elizabeth says it's a good doctor. The appointment should be the last appointment of the day. Ask if it can be squeezed in."

"Why is that, My Lord?"

"Because I don't particularly want to be seen."

Howard understood that, but there were easier solutions available, he should think. "Why can't you send your sister with her then?" Or even his new wife. He glanced at where Elizabeth was sitting, ostensibly reading a file. She did not seem to pay attention to the conversation. Howard would, if it were his wife, try to make her do all the evil chores like visiting doctors with girls. Perhaps one could not make queens do something. And perhaps she did not even like the fact that Henry had children. She might want him all for herself. Yes, indeed. Reading a file was the ultimate silent protest. He studied her mouth to see if she pouted.

"Because I need to see that doctor as well," Henry said patiently, wondering why Howard was gaping at Elizabeth. It was true that she looked exceptionally well today and Howard could perhaps not believe that she was married to his boss.

"Do you want to become a woman, My Lord?" Howard inquired.

Henry groaned. "I have a woman, Howard. You've just been gaping at her."

Howard gulped. He was rather embarrassed upon seeing the Queen raise her eyes from the file to look at him in curiosity. He returned a few minutes later. "Fixed it, My Lord. The doctor has her last appointment at five o'clock and will see you -- Mary -- after that." He took care not to glance at the Queen anymore.

"Thank you." Henry glanced at Elizabeth. He knew she had heard it. She had already made her own arrangements.

Elizabeth would prefer not to do anything. If she stayed in here out of sight maybe everything would blow over and if action was really needed maybe someone else could take it for her. She sat reading documents and files in Henry's office as if nothing was the matter. It unnerved Howard and his companions that she could remain so calm.

Henry had called a few people in regardless. "What do I do?" he asked his advisors. This was not the kind of thing he was good at. Some people liked intrigues and scandals, but he did not. "What's the latest news?" They looked a little hesitant because of Elizabeth's presence, but he gestured for them to speak.

"You and the Queen were seen taking the same boys to the cinema."

"So?"

"This was significant. They reviewed your acquaintance over the past two months to see if you were friends and they noticed some interesting things. One, you were both in Brazil. Two, she was at Oakhurst and so is your niece. Three, you both attended the same funeral after which you had a meeting. Four, she dined at your house with foreign politicians and she left at 5am. Five, she went missing during the holidays, yet she was seen taking your children back to school. Six, she was at the airfield yesterday. Seven, she is here."

"Eight, we were born on the same day," Henry cut in sarcastically. "Nine, we read the same files every week. Ten, our fathers are both dead and we've inherited their titles. Eleven, we're both right-handed. Twelve -- need I go on?"

"We need to provide an explanation nevertheless."

"We're married," Henry announced. He did not think that explanation was something they had been considering.

That caused a great shock among those who had not heard it yet. "Married?" They stared from one to the other, finding the news hard to believe.

Elizabeth lowered the file she was reading. "Yes." She had been fearing this moment, but now that it had come it was easier than she had been thinking. She could not have done it like Henry, though. Henry seemed to enjoy it. He had far less to lose.

"That's impossible. No one can just get married to the Queen," said one of the men.

"Not anymore, no. She's already married now," Henry said dryly with a wink at Elizabeth.

"But why? Is there a reason?" asked someone who was already wondering how to explain this move to the public.

Elizabeth hastily scribbled her initials onto the file as a sign of having read them. "I'm sorry Henry, but I'm not staying for this." Queens could not be seen to blush and stammer and she had better leave before any of that happened. And she would most certainly start blushing if anyone began to examine why they had got married. She was not as good at this as Henry was. He could probably say he loved her without blinking, but she would even blush upon hearing him say it. She had managed this far, but she feared she would not be able to stand having to defend her reasons for marrying Henry.

Henry did not mind much. He understood her wish to leave and he would see her later that day anyway. In fact, it was probably easier to talk to his staff without her. He would not have to worry whether she thought he was expressing himself too unemotionally, even though Elizabeth herself was fleeing at the first sign of emotions right now. He did not want to put her through anything that was still difficult for her and he caught her hand when she replaced the file on his desk. "It's alright, Linnie," he said softly.

Her rather strained expression softened and she smiled. Henry understood. She felt her cheeks grow warmer, but this was a pleasant blush, not one of embarrassment. She stood looking at him, wondering if she had the courage to kiss him goodbye in front of all these men she did not know. He gave her hand an almost imperceptible tug. Henry would not mind if she kissed him, that was clear enough. It was her self-control he was pulling at, not her hand. At some point in time he would succeed and it would all be gone. She was not that far yet and she still needed to be pulled. However, she had progressed far enough to lean in slowly to kiss him on the cheek.

Henry regarded it as a victory. It meant more to him than any dutiful kiss on the mouth would have done. He too had not had more courage than to pull her hand, hoping she would do the rest. "See you later," he whispered.

As Elizabeth was led out of the building to her car, she had an increasing sense of living in two worlds: a public one and a private one. At the moment she was a private figure being led through a public world. That had rarely happened before. She had always only been truly herself at home. If she thought about it, it was a little frightening to be exposed like this without having a role to hide behind, but there seemed to be a comfortable shell around her somehow. She was vaguely aware of people's stares as she passed them, but she kept her eyes cast down as all these thoughts crossed her mind. Theory was very different from practice.

Last night she had not taken any difficult clothes to Henry's flat and therefore she might not look like an impressive monarch at the moment, but oddly enough it did not worry her at all how she looked. She kept recalling Henry's face and that would make her feel good for as long as she would be able to recall it. She did not know that lost in thought she looked very happy. All she knew was that as long as she hung on to this feeling, it did not matter whatever happened around her.

Of course there were journalists around the car. They had all flocked here to see which VIP was leaving. Their presence registered in Elizabeth's mind, but she gave them a beaming, if absentminded smile. She could hear them ask respectfully what she had been doing here, but were they really thinking she would give an honest answer to that? Thinking about telling the truth made her smile rather wickedly to herself, even though she was certainly not going to tell it and she certainly did not owe these people an explanation. It was just that their question brought to mind how Henry had laid his hand on her stomach and that was something that she could not begin to explain perhaps even to Henry himself. It was maybe not the most felicitous feeling to come to mind in this situation, but it would not go away.

In the car, alone and not bothered by anyone, she wondered how she had come across. She had not said anything. What would people think she had been doing there? She might have had perfectly legitimate professional reasons for being there. Henry and she needed to co-operate on a regular basis. Everybody knew that.

Elizabeth wished she could make up her mind about public opinion. Should she care or not? It could not alter anything. Even face to face with the enemy she would have thoughts about Henry. Just a moment ago the outsiders had not been able to penetrate her shell either. They had not been able to influence her own thoughts, because those had been stronger. Would they ever manage if they tried really hard?

Suppose everyone disapproved of her and Henry. She explored that possibility. It was her greatest fear and she had not really wanted to think about it so far. Why would people disapprove? It could not be anything personal. It would probably have to do with their jobs.

Her job was too much a part of her life to be merely a job. She did not really know who she was without it. It was not something she could simply abandon. Henry was also something she could not simply abandon. People had better not make her choose. They had no right to, anyway. No, they certainly had no right. Elizabeth grew a little more confident and then lost this confidence again as she realised she was back at square one, where she had been before Henry and she had had that argument. Unless Henry had reconsidered giving in, they were back at exactly the same point should it come to making choices. He had not wanted to give anything up then and neither had she. It would be wonderful if they did not have to, but life was not always wonderful.

Perhaps tonight things would have changed. Elizabeth placed her hand on her stomach and thought about it. A pregnancy would bar one option for certain. The public would not know, but if she was truly pregnant there was no way she would drop Henry. She rocked to and fro a little as she weighed the alternatives. There had to be a way to use the pregnancy. Her mother, queen of manipulation, would certainly know how, but someone would have to tell her mother about it first. Perhaps Elizabeth would rather tell the public. How did you tell your mother that after years of having been exemplary you had given in to temptation, had fallen for the one person you most definitely should not have fallen for and had seduced this person too by going to him in a bikini?

Those things were difficult enough, but there were worse things, Elizabeth reflected with a wry smile. How did you tell your eighty-year old mother that you had then done the unmentionable thing with this person? Her mother had always told her that it was not worth the trouble, certainly not in her position, and that it would be very irresponsible. Elizabeth, dutiful and responsible person that she was, had believed this.

However, her mother had not expressed any real disapproval about Henry so far, only a few teasing remarks. That was odd. Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. Or had getting married made everything alright?

Elizabeth went to see her mother as soon as she returned home. She frowned in confusion upon seeing her mother knitting something for a doll or a baby. Why was she doing that?

"Where have you been, sweetie?" the Queen Mother asked. "Where did Henry take you?" She had made her inquiries, naturally. In fact, she usually spent her days making inquiries and there was not much in the palace that escaped her notice.

"To his home." She bit her lip, wondering how she could break the news. "I couldn't sleep here."

"Why not?"

"I kept wondering what people might think if they found out he'd been with me all night." That sounded infinitely stupid.

"People would think you were in love."

And they were. Elizabeth wondered why this was a problem to her then. "Why won't people allow that?" she said sadly.

Her mother put down her knitting. "My dear, nobody has so far expressed any disapproval. This might have escaped your notice, because you're so afraid of disapproval that you're expecting it everywhere, but it certainly hasn't escaped mine."

Elizabeth looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know about the outside world, but how many times have you been disturbed while you were chatting to our dear Prime Minister here?"

Her daughter shrugged. "I don't know. Not very often, I think." She had not counted the instances. She could not even recall them.

"How many times do you think people refrained from disturbing you simply because you were chatting to our dear Prime Minister?"

"Er…I-I-I wouldn't know." She raised her eyebrows in confusion. "Not if they decided not to disturb us, would I?"

"Sweetie, the entire palace has known about you and Henry for ages. It's old news. They might heave a sigh and say finally! but I doubt that anyone would be shocked or surprised to hear he spent the night here." The Queen Mother decided not to mention how people had gossiped behind Elizabeth's back during the first weeks two years ago. She had come to hear all that gossip herself and truth be told, she had contributed a good deal too, finding it just as exciting as the next person.

"Why didn't anyone ever tell me?" Elizabeth felt silly and embarrassed.

"It wouldn't have worked on you. You would have run away from him."

Elizabeth uttered something unintelligible. "And I suppose everyone knows I might be pregnant as well?" she said in resignation. Instead of dropping a bomb on her mother, she had had a bomb dropped on herself.

"Just me, sweetie." Her mother beamed at her.

It was unthinkable that Elizabeth could stay home on a day like this to reflect on her sins. No, she had to go out and meet people. She had an engagement. Fortunately it would finish before five, so she could see the doctor.

Life's irony was even more enormous. Elizabeth mused that it could probably only happen to her that the morning after discovering she might be pregnant with the Prime Minister's baby she was to open a renovated government crèche.

They were perhaps a trifle surprised to hear her ask which departments this crèche was for, but they could not know that this was a prospective parent speaking and not the Queen. It was not likely that she would ever leave a child here, but the mere fact that Henry qualified was unsettling enough.

It raised some questions she had not yet thought about. She would not be facing the dilemma whether to stop working or not, unlike other women. She had no choice but to continue. That meant she had to leave her baby somewhere if she had an engagement. Having been to Henry's office now, she did not see that as an option. The men there had not even accepted her, let alone a baby.

She looked around herself. It looked cheerful. There was nothing wrong with it, but she did not think she could ever leave her child here every day. It was true that she had not planned it, but if she was indeed having one, she wanted to spend some time with it as well.

She was not listening to a word they were saying about the monthly fees and waiting lists, but she kept looking at the small babies in their beds and she felt sorry for them. When they were older they would be sent off to a boarding school so their parents could work and live without disturbances. If they were lucky their parents would visit them at school. If they were not so lucky they would not see their parents very often.

Elizabeth could not voice any of this directly. These people here were obviously enthusiastic about the place and maybe she was the only one who thought this way. What did she know about such matters anyway? Would these places exist if they were truly bad for a child? No. Who was she to talk? Work was less important for her. She did not have to work for money. She could afford to work less. Some people could not.

"The ideal situation is still to take care of your own child, isn't it?" she said hesitantly, not wanting to offend anyone.

"Some would go crazy if they had to do that all day," said the director of the crèche.

Elizabeth looked at her with faint incredulity. "Do you mean some would rather work?" While she was considered a workaholic, she was not sure she would prefer work. It was a good substitute for something you did not have, she was beginning to think, but that was all. But it was a complicated issue.

"I know what you mean, but not all of us are the same. Am I right in thinking you would not have brought your children here if you had ever had any?" the director asked. "Assuming you were not the Queen." Queens would leave their children with one or more nannies and governesses.

This implied that she was never going to have any children. Elizabeth understood why people could be thinking that, but they were wrong -- she hoped. "I'm not too old yet to have any." She could say that. Nobody could hear what the director and she were talking about.

It surprised the director that Elizabeth would be hopeful. "Er…I wasn't saying you were, Madam."

"Yes, you were, but you might have a tiny point, what with my being forty. Still, it's a very tiny point, as you may discover one day, hopefully." Elizabeth quickly changed the subject before she gave everything away. "Anyway, I took care of some children once and I wouldn't even have had time to work, let alone time to think that I might want to. And they were big! I didn't even have to do everything for them."

"Not the Prime Minister's nephews by any chance?" The director had read about that, but she had not known if there was any truth in it. This was an excellent opportunity to find out.

"Yes. How do you know that?"

"I read about it. Such news interests me. I work in government and I work with children. It might have been children I know, although we get more civil servants than politicians. But we had those boys here once two years ago when the Prime Minister didn't have a proper nanny network set up yet."

"Aren't they sweet?"

"Frankly, all they did was cry," the director apologised. "I didn't think them particularly sweet."

"But their parents had just died," Elizabeth said pityingly. "I don't blame them. They don't cry anymore, except when they've had a bad dream, but then they come to sleep with me and it's alright. I wonder what they do at school," she mused, suddenly concerned. "They can't go anywhere there. But sorry," she said, recollecting herself. "We were talking about something else. I forgot what it was, though."

"We were talking about the fact that you wouldn't bring your own -- or someone else's -- children here," said the director, studying Elizabeth carefully. If she already took care of other people's children, she would certainly take care of her own should she ever have any. Elizabeth did not appear to think she was too old. Her age was but a tiny point, she had said. She looked young and healthy and there was no reason to assume her age mattered in this respect. What mattered more was that she did not have a partner -- or did she? "But isn't all that academic, considering that you don't have a partner?"

"Queens cannot have partners. They must have husbands," Elizabeth corrected her with a smile. "And time will tell whether they're entitled to even a husband."

"What do you mean?"

"I fear some people might trust my husband with their welfare, but they might not trust him with mine. Or that they will stop placing their trust in him, simply because I placed my trust in him too. However, would I do that if he wasn't absolutely trustworthy?"

This partner was no longer hypothetical, but very real and the director did not have to guess his identity, even though she was surprised that he had somehow become a husband. She could piece little bits of evidence together and conclude who he must be. "I'm surprised that you'd talk about him."

"I'm only running a few hours ahead of my mother's official statement," Elizabeth said with a shrug and a resigned smile. "You will see it on television tonight. She'll be saying the same thing, but more explicitly, of course. Not everyone might infer who I'm talking about. But I do wonder about myself too. It's just that I have a very bad need to tell everyone I meet and we never seem to be talking about anything that cannot be linked to him."

At a quarter to five Henry and Mary entered the private practice. It was located in a beautiful old house that indicated that the doctor's fees were probably rather high. He had picked Mary up from school and she had not been told much, but since this was probably a lot more exciting than staying at school, she had not protested.

She hoped nobody would see her enter this practice, because it would certainly raise questions. "All these people will see me and think I had sex," she whispered in disgust, concerned enough to dare to mention it. Suppose her grandmother was shopping in town! Grandma would think she had to go on the pill or something. Mary blushed in embarrassment. It would be even worse if the girls at school found out about it.

"If I hadn't taken you, they would have thought Elizabeth had sex," Henry whispered back as they climbed the stairs to the waiting room.

"But she did!" Mary thought it a bit hypocritical for Henry to get Elizabeth pregnant and not own up to it. That baby was going to come out eventually and then what? Would they claim she was the new Virgin Mary? She had always thought Henry was honest.

"She's not supposed to!" And certainly not with him.

"You should have thought of that before you slept with her! But why would they think of Elizabeth if they saw you?"

"They would see me with her. I have no excuse to be here on my own, do I?" He was not a woman and this doctor only treated women. He only had business here as a partner or father.

"Am I your decoy?" Mary asked.

"Yes, sorry."

"So why is it so really bad that people think that of Elizabeth? It's far worse that they think that of me! I'm only fifteen and she's forty. Is she here too, by the way?" She deduced that Elizabeth would be here too. It could not be otherwise.

"She should be."

"And why wouldn't people suspect her if she's alone?" It still did not sit very well with Mary that Henry and Elizabeth were not being honest by trying to hide their real purpose.

"Because you only take a man with you if he's involved. For all ordinary health problems you can do without men." This made Mary giggle. She was clinging to the railing and he pushed her onwards. "Please act nervous. You have an appointment." He went into the waiting room. "Good afternoon," he politely greeted the ladies who were waiting there. There were three doctors in this practice and all three had at least one more patient waiting. Elizabeth was not even there yet. The women recognised him alright, but since they were all unaccompanied, all they could do was stare at him.

They stared at Mary too and she felt ashamed. She wanted to say it was her stepmother who was guilty, not her, but instead she began to read a magazine with a red face. She even forgot to giggle.

When Elizabeth came in, Henry wondered if people were expecting him to start talking to her. He gave her an uncomfortable look as she sat down not far away from him. "Oh," he said.

Elizabeth looked as if she did not really know what to say. She picked up a magazine at random and started to leaf through it. "Oh God," she said in irritation as she came across a really unflattering picture of herself in a dowdy green dress. She showed it to Henry when he glanced at her inquisitively.

He tore the page out, crumpled it and threw it in the bin. "Gone."

Mary had found a very old picture of Elizabeth and a friend on a boat, both in swimwear and taken about ten years ago. "Is this one better?" she took it over to Elizabeth. It should be. And damn Henry if he thought she was going to pretend she did not know Elizabeth.

Elizabeth frowned at it. She did not want to be associated with swimwear for the time being. After a brief hesitation she tore out the page as well and it followed the previous crumple into the bin.

Henry had picked up a new magazine. "If we start tearing out all of your pictures, we might as well throw most of these magazines straight into the bin," he commented after looking through it. "Not to mention…er…" he pointed up at the official portrait of the Queen that hung on the wall. "I have that one in my office too, by the way."

"Really?" It surprised Elizabeth a little. She had not noticed it that morning, but it was of course more interesting to look at Henry than at pictures of herself.

"It's rather obligatory," he explained.

"Why are you and Henry pretending not to be pregnant?" Mary whispered to Elizabeth when it became something too important to remain silent about.

"Because it's easier."

"You'd rather have people think I had sex," Mary whispered accusingly.

Elizabeth looked startled. "No!" She did not want people to think that at all. And why would people think that anyway? Just because Mary was here? But there were lots of other things one could come here for.

"But that's what they'll think."

"No! I'm sure they do not." They had not looked at it from this angle at all, but Elizabeth realised Mary might have a point. People might wonder what Mary was here for. If possibly being suspected troubled her, it would trouble Mary even more.

Mary looked serious. "I don't want people to think that. Eeew! You're using me."

There was a troubled look on Elizabeth's face. Yes, they were using Mary. "I'm sorry." She glanced at Henry, who was watching their whispering in suspicion. It was only visible to her and Mary, probably, but he seemed to become more nervous by the second and that was not their doing. He wanted to know if he was going to be a father or not and he had no control over that at the moment. She was touched by his nervousness and she gave him a reassuring look. Then she looked back at the girl and took her hand. This was hard, but at the same time it was not. "Do you want me to be honest?"

"Yes," Mary answered. "I don't know. It doesn't feel right like this."

Elizabeth looked genuinely contrite. "I'm sorry we didn't consider your feelings. Would you forgive us if we started being honest right now?"

"Pff!" Mary exclaimed. "Do you mean you would tell those women you and Henry…" She could not imagine that.

Elizabeth was not sure how it would be done. "Would you forgive me?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth smiled at her. "Thank you."

As she sat wondering how to do it, the doctor's assistant came into the waiting room. "Miss Breckingham?" she inquired, looking at Mary.

"Oh," said Mary anxiously. Would she really have to see that doctor now? She was a little afraid of doctors. There was nothing wrong with her and maybe the doctor would be angry that she was wasting his or her valuable time.

"Mrs Breckingham," Elizabeth corrected. She had never called herself that before, but it sounded nice. This was a good opportunity and she had to take it. It was only an hour or so before her mother would reveal everything anyway.

"Oh, I am sorry," the doctor's assistant apologised to the Prime Minister with confusion written plainly on her face. "I had no idea. The person I spoke to this morning specifically made an appointment for your daughter." She glanced at the young girl. She was far too young to be married. How could he have done it?

"I have an appointment with the doctor now," said Elizabeth, rising to her feet. She could see that Henry was regarding them rather stupidly. Fortunately this was not immediately visible to those who did not know him well. To them he would merely be looking impassive. He was thinking about something, but what?

The assistant's eyes widened in panic. She did not want to contradict the Queen, but she was going to have to. "No Madam, you're after Miss -- Mrs Breckingham."

Something dawned on Elizabeth. "She's not Mrs Breckingham." Could this silly woman really believe that Mary was Henry's wife? The girl was fifteen!

"I got the last name wrong?" the assistant asked anxiously, checking her list.

"You got the person wrong," she said calmly. "I'm Mrs Breckingham." To her satisfaction she saw that this woke Henry up sufficiently for him to cough. He had not expected that bold confession, had he?

"B-B-But I thought you were er…" Perhaps Breckingham was an alias, although it was funny that the Queen should accidentally have picked the name of another patient.

"I can be both," Elizabeth said quite seriously.

"Oh…" the assistant was nonplussed. "Er…I'm not sure I understand…does that mean you have two appointments?"

"No, I only have one."

"But the Prime Minister's secretary made an appointment for the Prime Minister's daughter. He phoned this morning. She was going to be the last appointment of the day until the doctor told me you would be the last. And her name is Breckingham."

Elizabeth nodded. "And his and mine," she said. "We all belong together."

…The Queen Mother will address the nation about a matter of great importance…

"I'd like to talk about my daughter," Elizabeth's mother began. She had enjoyed herself tremendously, what with nobody knowing what she was going to say. Everyone had tried to guess and she had not revealed anything. She could speak without reservations -- at her age she was past caring what people thought of her.

"Elizabeth has always done what people expected of her, except in her private life -- some people did not even allow her a private life. Everybody is always interfering. Over the years I have read so many things about her that were simply untrue and that made me wonder if this was any of your business? That my daughter wanted to remain single was her own choice. You'd never have got her to marry someone she didn't love. At the same time there's no way you could stop her from marrying a man she does love.

"If you find love and marriage difficult matters, you'll understand that they are even more difficult for someone in Elizabeth's position. It's hard to find someone who is more or less an equal. And she has to love him too -- I can safely say that a lot of men in the circles we move in could not really excite a woman." She winked a little. "Yet she was never given the chance to get to know anyone else at her leisure.

"More than once a promising acquaintance was ruined in the past because the press made too much of it. They saw her with the same man twice and immediately decided this was her boyfriend, whereas he was never more than an acquaintance. She can read what you write. I'm not entirely sure whether you realise this, but she read it and broke off the acquaintances before she would be manoeuvred into an untenable position.

"I can now say no harm was done then, because she would never have married those men, but back then I still didn't have a good idea of her tastes and I did regret it a little. I was beginning to fear she had built up too many layers for anyone to notice she's really a good girl. If you got past the sense of duty and the controlledness all your efforts to get her interested in a man would bounce off a concrete wall of cynicism and sarcasm. I speak from experience.

"Men became infinitely more interesting if they were not thrust at her. That doesn't mean that she automatically embraced any man I considered unworthy, because she would consider him unworthy as well. It was somewhat more subtle than that. Mainly, I think, it applied to men I had not yet seen, because Elizabeth always has more faith in ideas that originated in her own mind. I never said she was perfect.

"So, the only kind of man who'd stand a chance would be one I wouldn't have been the first to see. But this was the catch: Elizabeth was never the first to see any men. I was always much more observant, because I had nothing else to do.

"The case of my son-in-law was an exception. Elizabeth had seen through him, while I was only seeing him. He wouldn't let me see through him. That might be because I'm a mean old woman and the methods I employ aren't always kind. He thwarted all my attempts, consciously or not.

"I never asked Elizabeth anything about him. If I had, she would have stopped making innocent remarks about him. What she told me was quite enough and I used that to fire devious questions at him. He is clever. I developed a great respect for him as he tried to answer my irreverent and suggestive questions.

"I don't know whether he took me seriously. Perhaps he thought I was senile. But it was a wonderful game at any rate, yet I knew that if he played this same game with Elizabeth they would never be getting anywhere. I began to witness some of their interactions and saw there was hope. It was all in what they did not say, do and sound like. As long as they were speaking the same secret language they would know exactly what the other meant -- I hoped.

"But you can only take that so far. At some point you want to be certain. Even these two had to reach that point. I kept expecting him to kiss her or something like that, but that didn't happen until at least a year later. You might be wondering how I'd come to know about it, but it's a fact that Elizabeth can't be silent about anything she's excited about. She won't bring it up directly, but she'll bring up related issues, but as long as you're good at reading between the lines that's not a problem.

The Queen Mother still had not revealed the man's identity and she was not planning to do so just yet. Let the public squirm and beg! "As I was saying, it only happened a year later, but I'll save the juicy bits for later. We must talk about his character a little more."

"I had no inkling that the sentence he thinks… was something I would be hearing many times after that. I didn't take it very seriously the first time. You don't expect good-looking people also to be intelligent, except Elizabeth, of course. But he is too. I hadn't expected him to be, honestly. Oh, can he think, dear? I said. And she would look at me, thinking she was not going to burn her fingers by answering. But he could think. He saw she was capable of more than just cutting ribbons.

"She never once said he was handsome. Never -- even though he was. She probably thought that at my age I wouldn't notice anymore, but let me tell you that even eighty-year-olds would appreciate a handsome son-in-law better than an ugly one.

"He is perfect -- for her. I have enough common sense to know he is not completely perfect. Take for instance the fact that it took him well over a year to gather enough nerve to -- but I wasn't going to mention that just yet.

"Still, it illustrates that he is a very decent man, if probably too decent, because the fact that he didn't do anything almost made me wonder if he didn't know how, but then he is excused by the fact that it was a queen he was madly in love with. Although madly is perhaps not the right word. One may fall madly in love with a queen on the inside, but outwardly one must stay in control of oneself. And one must leave all the initiative to the queen. It's unthinkable to seduce her.

"However, if something strong has been set in motion there is no stopping it, no matter how slowly it moves. I could see them progress a tiny, tiny bit each time they met. You cannot fool an old woman. If the press consisted of old women, they would have found out long ago. But considering that my own daughter was pretty blind for a while, we cannot blame the press for being it too.

"But now, I am happy to say, she is happily married to my son-in-law and I wish them all the luck in the world. They are perfectly suited and I am extremely glad that they found each other. They have my undivided support and it is my wish that the rest of the country will give them the same amount of support. Thank you for listening."

It dawned on some people behind the scenes that the Queen Mother had ended her speech without revealing her son-in-law's identity. The other revelation had been shocking enough for them not to notice this immediately. They looked and whispered at each other in confusion. Action was undertaken and the Queen Mother was respectfully informed of her oversight by the presenter who had been sitting close to her, just out of sight.

"Ooooooh," she said very slowly and very innocently. "I thought it was very clear whom I was talking about. Isn't it enough for you to know she's happy with him?"

"People would like to know who he is."

"I'm not sure that it matters. People have now heard they're a good match. I don't really want them to change their minds about that just because they hadn't envisaged this particular person as my daughter's husband."

"He's not a likely choice then?"

"Oh, he is, if you know them well. It's just that nobody knows them well enough to know that. People think they know Elizabeth, but they do not. It's the same thing with our Prime Minister. We were all so shocked after Brazil. Nobody knew he could do such a thing, but before that time nobody had ever taken an interest in the fact that he was human."

The presenter did not have the faintest idea how the Queen Mother had hopped onto this track. He knew better than to interrupt her, however.

"Those of us who knew were not surprised, just like those of us who know Elizabeth is human will not be surprised that she got married."

"I'm sure people know she's human."

"And I'm quite sure that people will forget that once I reveal the all too obvious identity of my son-in-law. Could it still be a mystery to people? It wouldn't be a mystery if you saw the human side of it. If you still don't know," she said to the presenter, "you're still not seeing Elizabeth as a woman and you still don't deserve to know, because then you'd say it was shocking and how could they.

"How could they, indeed. How could they ignore it for two years? That is the shocking part. Not that they eventually gave in. That was inevitable. Although it did leave them rather stunned and stupid. It took a while for them to recover.

"And the amazing thing is that nobody ever concluded the right thing about Elizabeth. Oh yes, people certainly noticed some very quirky behaviour, but this was accepted as if it was normal. Apparently it's perfectly alright for queens to be whimsical and moody. They even wrote about it, saying it was her personality. It is not. Would I allow my daughter to be touchy and short-tempered for no reason? I would not. She is kind and patient. Any abnormal behaviour always coincided with the prolonged absence of a certain gentleman. It usually improved a little after he phoned, but not always for very long, depending on where he was. Who said men don't phone? This one did, twice a day if he could."

"May I interrupt, Your Royal Highness? You have been speaking about this man for a long while now, but you still haven't told us who he is," said the presenter.

"Then you have not been listening very well. Should I start from the beginning again?"

"Er…I do not think that is necessary," the presenter said with as much politeness as he could. "It should be impossible for the Queen to get married in secret. I don't quite understand how it could be done. Apart from the fact that it could never go unnoticed, there are so many other considerations with regard to succession and tradition and…and legally…what about permission?"

"Had she asked, she would have received mine."

"I was under the impression that members of the Royal Family had to ask for permission to get married."

"She had to ask her own permission and that was granted, as you might well be able to imagine," the Queen Mother said with a chuckle. "Perhaps she would have needed to ask the Prime Minister's permission, but I can imagine it would have been granted as well."

The presenter of the news show wondered why the Queen Mother was beaming at him so delightedly. His mind was spinning. "Yesterday the Prime Minister also said he had got married. One would almost think they had married each other."

"Well," the Queen Mother shrugged. "You'd only have to see whether he matches the description I gave you. I believe I have given everyone enough food for thought. The intelligent listeners will have understood me. My opinions may be taken as the official Family viewpoint." It was so easy when the family consisted only of her and Elizabeth, who would most certainly agree. "My son-in-law has my blessing, he has the Queen's blessing, he has the Prime Minister's blessing and what is probably much more important, my daughter's marriage has the blessing of some important young people, or so I heard."

This was the point to end it. So far she had not had any questions about the matter of succession and she did not want them to be raised yet. First the marriage, then the baby. A too quick revelation would make it look as though it was the other way around and people might have their doubts about love in such a case. Also, speculation about a possible heir would unnerve Linnie, just like speculation about a possible husband had always unnerved her. Her mother had not forgotten what it felt like to have the entire country hoping and wondering. In her case it had taken forever. Maybe that had only been the logical result of so much pressure. By no means did she want Elizabeth to experience the same, especially not when she was so close. The Queen Mother was almost certain, but not completely. There was still some uncertainty. After all, she only had her intuitions.

However, Elizabeth had to be suspecting now too. Why else had she gone to a doctor? Her mother was eager to go home. She wanted to know what the doctor had said.

Elizabeth had startled the doctor by crying, whereupon the doctor feared she had delivered some horrible news. Henry had been affected because Elizabeth was and he had not been able to say much either. It had been up to Mary to explain that Elizabeth was in fact happy with the news. She had done so very awkwardly, because she had not known exactly what was the matter with Elizabeth.

Elizabeth had explained it to her as they had walked away. Henry had not been able to hear everything they said, but he had noticed that they had paid sufficiently little attention to him not to know where they were being led. They had followed him blindly and when he stepped aside to allow them to enter a small Italian restaurant they were surprised.

"No, Henry," Elizabeth said, backing off automatically, but he pushed Mary ahead so she pushed against Elizabeth.

A friendly waiter showed them to a table. Mary sat down next to Elizabeth and Henry smiled at them after they had ordered drinks. "We cannot bring Mary back to school without a proper dinner and breakfast. I'm sure they'll interrogate you. Your headmistress doesn't trust me much."

"Breakfast?" Mary asked. She had thought she was going back to school that evening.

"I have a meeting tonight," Henry said apologetically.

"Gahh! I don't know why you go."

"I have to go." He was important, although he hated to think that.

"So you're taking me back in the morning?" Mary liked that better, actually.

"Yes," he sighed. "I finally got your headmistress to agree with that. She kept saying there was nothing wrong with you, no reason to visit a doctor, because the school nurse had never noticed anything. She thinks I'm abusing my position to bend the rules again and she kept saying that Elizabeth didn't."

"Bend the rules?"

"And abuse your position. Alumnae are saints, apparently. I told her I could never be as good as Elizabeth because I haven't gone to school there. I learnt all the wrong things at my school, of course."

"You did," Elizabeth teased. She laid her hand over his. "I cured you of some of your bad things."

"You gave me yours, you mean," Henry protested. "I never had any."

The waiter had recognised them, apparently, because a short man and an even shorter woman appeared to say they were extremely honoured. Elizabeth spoke to them in Italian. Henry was not as thrilled as the owners to find out Elizabeth spoke Italian, because he did not understand a word. She might be talking about him and he did not know what she was saying. However, despite her earlier reluctance to enter the restaurant, he could see she did not mind the interruption and she was handling it well.

At a point when the Italian woman was looking anxious, Elizabeth turned to Henry with a smile. "Say you'll have your picture taken." She did not mind that her picture would be hung on the wall.

"Me?" he exclaimed.

"He will," she promised the woman, who looked delighted and then left them to make their choice from the menu. "Come on, Henry," Elizabeth said. "Make the woman happy."

"I only want to make you happy, Elizabeth," he said with his eyes on the menu.

"And me!" Mary piped up. "Not me?"

"And you, of course. Sorry."

"Well," Elizabeth continued. "Someone ran out to get cousin Paolo's camera, so you have no choice but to pose."

"I don't really mind. I didn't know you spoke Italian."

"You never asked. I have a yacht in Italy."

Henry looked up from the menu. "Must you spend time on it regularly?" Even the mention of a yacht was enough to render him slightly nauseous. He was not going to set foot on it.

Elizabeth frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He gets seasick," Mary explained. "Always. Even if there are no waves."

"Really?"

He nodded. "You'd have to drag me on board if you wanted me to come. I wouldn't come voluntarily. Boats are evil." His seasickness was the only thing that had saved his life. He should not lose it.

Mary understood and she bent her head. Elizabeth did not, but she felt something was the matter. She would ask about it later and change the subject. "Our hands might be tied during the summer anyway," she commented.

"Tied?"

"We will have enough to do if all goes well."

That could make Henry smile again.

"Would you like a boy or a girl?" Elizabeth asked. It did not matter to her. Anything was fine.

"One troublesome girl is quite enough," Henry said teasingly with a glance at Mary.

She stuck out her tongue. "I wish you girl triplets."

Elizabeth had a frown on her face. "But that would be too difficult with regard to succession. Who'd be the heir?" The one who was born first? But then the others might protest because it was all so arbitrary. Or maybe the entire monarchy was arbitrary if you looked at it.

"Er, you're having a baby, not an heir," Henry commented.

"Says Lord Setchley."

He understood her point. "But there is David. Besides, people might not even accept our marriage, so they might not accept any offspring either."

"They elected you. How could they disapprove of you?"

"It's not quite the same thing. We'll see. I might even have to resign." Henry hated to say that. He had always told himself he would never do that. Things might have changed. He might have changed. He was not sure.

"No, you cannot. I won't have you sulking at home all day," Elizabeth said immediately. She knew he did not want to be forced. It would be alright if he chose to do it himself.

"I could ask your mother to teach me how to knit."

Henry had gone to his meeting, leaving Elizabeth and Mary at the restaurant to have a dessert and a cup of tea with the owners. It was surprising that nobody dared to ask any questions about his marriage. The committee had all been very busy, but someone must have heard about the Queen Mother's announcement. Yet nobody mentioned it. Henry was glad for it. He did not want to drag the meeting on for longer than necessary, because he was eager to go home. It was finished at a decent hour and he practically ran away to avoid any questions.

Elizabeth's mother was surprised to see that Elizabeth brought home a girl. She could guess who it was, however. It was Henry's niece. "Does that mean the rascal himself is due here tonight as well?" she inquired.

"We are married," Elizabeth told her. Of course he was due here. She hoped so anyway. They had not really discussed where they would be spending the night. What if Henry preferred to sleep in his own bed? With or without her?

"And is he going to stay? He's not going to take you away in the middle of the night again like last night?"

"I don't know yet."

"Do sit down, Linnie. Stop pacing so nervously. I dropped a stitch." She was knitting green baby socks, but it was of course practically impossible for the Queen Mother to truly drop a stitch, what with her experience and composure.

Elizabeth had been wondering how to break the news of her pregnancy. She sat down obediently and nearly immediately got up again. "How did the announcement go?" she asked, postponing the moment.

"We'll read about it tomorrow," her mother shrugged. "I didn't give them a name, only a description, but I think it was fairly obvious."

"Oh God, you didn't give them a name?" Elizabeth asked in worry. She could already imagine the speculations, knowing how vague and mysterious her mother liked to be. Things would be worse than before the announcement. At least some people had not known anything before it.

"It was more fun not to."

Elizabeth looked a little desperate. "Mum, I thought you were going to tell everything to put an end to all these speculations."

"I could never tell them things you haven't told me yet." Her mother looked at her expectantly. There was one thing in particular that she was fishing for. Why did Elizabeth not give it to her?

"But I don't really know how to tell you," she said crossly.

"Why not?"

"I don't know what you might say." Her mother might disapprove.

The Queen Mother did not usually clarify anything, but in this case it was absolutely necessary. Things would go wrong if she did not. "When I call that man a rascal I mean that sarcastically, Linnie. And I am sarcastic because it does not take a rascal over a year and a half to finally take some action."

"W-W-What sort of action?" Elizabeth asked softly, with wide eyes. It sounded as if her mother only disapproved of the long time it had taken for anything to happen, yet how could she have known something was bound to happen some time? "You mean the kiss?"

"And anything that followed," the Queen Mother said invitingly. She winked at Mary, who began to giggle. At least she and the girl understood each other. "Linnie, why don't you just tell me? Don't you think I'd like to know?"

"Oh alright then. The doctor said I was pregnant," Elizabeth said matter-of-factly, but there was a slight quiver in her voice at the end of the sentence.

"And she cried," said Mary, who felt there had to be an addition to this unemotional statement.

"Of course she cried. I would not be able to imagine that scene without tears," said the Queen Mother. She put her knitting pens away. This rarely happened. She walked over to her daughter and softly spoke to her.

It made Mary cry too. She felt it was silly to cry and that she should leave them alone, so she left the room unnoticed to sit down outside it. She sat here undisturbed with her head between her knees until someone said her name and put an arm around her. It was Henry. She had not heard him approach over the thick carpet and she looked up in surprise.

"What is the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said sheepishly. "Elizabeth had to cry when she was talking to her mother and it made me cry a little too and that was silly, so I left and then it really didn't stop, because I felt happy for her and sad for myself, because I don't really have a mother. Well, I have Elizabeth now, but I can't expect her to…er…I don't know. So I left the room. They didn't even see me. Maybe they don't miss me at all."

Henry gave her a squeeze. "How long have you been here?" He could not believe Elizabeth would not have noticed Mary's absence. Mary had not been here for long.

"I don't know. They wouldn't miss me because I'm not their daughter. They want to be alone."

"I'll be alone with you. I'm not their daughter either. They're not going to want me either."

"But you love Elizabeth."

"And I love you too, so if I see you're sad I must do something about it," Henry reasoned.

"But you don't like crying girls."

"Well, that's only because I'm afraid it's contagious," he confessed. "And that would look strange."

"It didn't look strange to see you were happy that Elizabeth was pregnant," Mary said in a small voice. Her tears began to flow again. "I liked that, but at the same time I was a bit afraid and I feel a little bad about that."

Henry comforted her. "I'll still love you and the boys. You don't have to worry about that." He did not know what else he could say to reassure her.

"But I do. We're not yours. The baby would be more yours."

Henry did not quite agree. They had become his and they should not worry. "My brother was very much like me. Anything he had could have been mine, so…"

"Would it be really bad of me if I said I liked you better?" she said with a choke. Perhaps she was betraying her father by saying that, but it just happened to be so that Henry had replaced all the old memories.

That did it. He might have learnt at school that boys should not cry, but sometimes they came very, very close. "I would never say that was a bad thing."

Elizabeth came looking for them some time later. She was hiccuping inelegantly. "What are you doing here?" she wondered anxiously, afraid that it was something she had done or neglected to do. Suddenly she had realised that Mary was missing. She stared at their red eyes, especially at Henry's, because she would not have expected it of him. Why were Henry's eyes red? "Are you alright?" They would be looking happy, if it were not for the eyes.

"Yes, we're alright," Henry replied. Elizabeth had been crying. He wondered why.

"Did I frighten you away?" she asked Mary. She wanted to ask Henry something too, but that could wait.

"No, I wanted to be alone. Did you talk things over with your mother?" Mary asked timidly.

"Yes, we did," Elizabeth said with a little smile. She was happy that they had. There would not be any more worries on that front now. "Did you, with your father?" She looked from one to the other. They obviously had.

"We did too."

Elizabeth hesitated a little and then sat down on the floor in front of them, her fingers playing with the carpet until her mother came out of the room.

"What is this conference out here?" the Queen Mother inquired, observing them. "And on the floor too. We have some perfectly good sofas in the sitting room, you know." But the sofas would lose out if there was a perfectly good husband out here. She knew that very well.

"I don't always want to sit on those," Elizabeth replied, still running her fingers over the carpet.

"As long as you don't plan to sleep here, sweetie," her mother shrugged. "It is rather late and I know the carpet is very soft, but it wouldn't do at all. Good night."

"Good night," three voices echoed.

"I want to go to bed too," Mary said. Someone would have to show her a room. This place was too big to find one herself.

"I'll show you one. What time do you have to be at school?" Elizabeth asked.

"Half past eight."

"I'll take you. I have less to do than Henry." He probably had to be at his office by that time. She knew he always started early.

"But if you take her, darling, that headmistress is going to think I'm shirking my responsibilities again," he protested mildly. "I told her I would do it." If he left it to Elizabeth again, the headmistress would certainly never let him take Mary from school again for short trips.

"I think I need to come along to tell her you're not." Elizabeth got to her feet. She smiled as she imagined appearing there with Henry. It would not be their first time ever to go somewhere together, but it would certainly be the first time that people would know they were a couple.

The advantage of having a chauffeur was that you were able to do some work in the car. Elizabeth and Henry were both reading and Mary leant against her stepmother to see what documents she was reading. They were not interesting enough for her to stay awake. Nobody should have to read that so early in the morning, with the help of a little torch because it was still dark outside. She was rather comfortable like this and Elizabeth did not seem to mind, so her eyes slowly closed.

Shortly before they reached the school she woke up again. "Good morning," Elizabeth said with a yawn. "I hope you won't fall asleep during your lessons now." She had not been able to move much, what with Mary leaning against her, but she had been quite pleased that her new stepdaughter would feel comfortable enough around her to do something like that.

It was a quarter past eight and Mary would have enough time to get ready for her first lesson. If she did not have to go to the headmistress with them, that was. "Do I need to come upstairs to see Mrs Taylor?" she asked.

"Yes, to tell that woman you were really needed," said Henry, who still feared he was going to be severely reprimanded. He knew he was bending the rules.

"But I wasn't."

"Yes, you were. Just for a second. She has to see you returned safely."

Mrs Taylor, who did not live at the school and therefore never had breakfast in the dining hall with the others, was drinking tea in her office, by the window to be precise. She had seen the car arrive, curious as she had been to see whether Lord Setchley kept his promise.

He was on time. It was an official-looking car and perhaps it was not him but Elizabeth who had come to bring Mary back. Both of them might have such a car. She watched Lord Setchley get out of the car to get his coat from the boot. That answered her question. He was doing it himself. Mary got out too and Elizabeth -- the headmistress was surprised to see that. She had been thinking one of them would do it, not both. Perhaps last night had changed matters.

She had not known they were married, although she had definitely suspected that they were a couple. They no longer had to hide that now. Lord Setchley hung a coat over his wife's shoulders. The gesture surprised her. Elizabeth appeared to be surprised too. She said something to him and they laughed.

It did not take long for them to come upstairs. Elizabeth was the first to enter, then Mary and finally Lord Setchley. She would agree with what the Queen Mother had implied, that he did not always have a lot of courage. But he had nothing to fear now. He had brought Mary back on time. She shook their hands. "I'm happy to see you made it on time. Please have a seat."

"I won't be making it somewhere else on time," Henry muttered.

"Henry!" Elizabeth nudged him. "Be nice. I'm with you."

"Can I go?" Mary asked. There were only two chairs and she did not see why she should stay. "Does anyone want me to stay?" Nobody said yes, so she kissed Henry and Elizabeth goodbye and hurried to her classroom.

"I saw your mother's announcement last night," said the headmistress, noting the warm embraces. She had seen Elizabeth with the three children right after the Christmas holidays, but her mother had not mentioned the children at all.

"We haven't seen that yet ourselves." They had gone almost straight to bed last night and they had risen too early to watch any television that morning. "Was it really bad?"

"She was surprisingly positive about your husband, but she never named him." She liked to tease Lord Setchley a little. She had to agree with the Queen Mother about this as well and she could just imagine how it had gone. It was very appealing to try and shake him.

"Yes," Elizabeth shuddered. "She told me. There's nobody else I could be married to, but still."

"He was identified in subsequent discussions," Mrs Taylor said gravely.

"Subsequent discussions on television or subsequent discussions between you and Mr Taylor?" Henry cut in. There would be a large difference.

"Mr Taylor was in another room watching football. He would not have cared about the identification either if there hadn't been any football, I think."

"I hope they identified Elizabeth's husband as me," Henry remarked. "I wouldn't really like it if people thought she could be married to someone else."

"What did people say?" Elizabeth was more concerned about that.

"Most found it funny, actually," said the headmistress.

"Funny?" It would never occur to Elizabeth to characterise her marriage as funny. She looked confused.

"Would you only be satisfied if they called it appalling?" Henry wondered.

"No, no, no!" Elizabeth laid her hand in his and leant over towards him earnestly. "But funny sounds as if they don't take us seriously."

A joint appearance on television would immediately change that, Mrs Taylor thought to herself, especially with those peculiar fears and ideas they came up with all the time. They were obviously well-suited. In their minds they were so occupied what with people might think and yet their actions were completely the opposite of standard behaviour. If you turned the sound off to simply watch them, you would not get any other impression than that of a couple, especially now that they were holding hands.

Henry rolled his eyes. "I don't take you seriously either."

"But you're allowed to take me with a grain of salt as long as you don't say tomorrow that our marriage was a joke."

"I like the joke, though." He squeezed her hand. "Can we sign Mary in now?" he asked the headmistress. "I need to go to work."

She gave them the book, amused by their interaction. It would be hard to deny that they were happy. They were also very sure of each other, although not of what others might think of them. She watched them sign the book L. H. N. Breckingham, and surprisingly, E. N. Breckingham. They might have written Lord and Lady Setchley, but they did not. It was not their style to splash out with a lavish wedding either and there would probably never be a public occasion. "Do you still have to have a church wedding?" she inquired out of curiosity. In that case they might have to make it more public.

"I hope not," Elizabeth confessed. "I always find them boring. We have to attend a royal one next week, so we'll see how that goes." If she managed to survive that, she meant.

"Next week?" Henry asked. He usually had so many engagements that he never looked that far ahead. He had known about this vaguely.

"Yes, you knew that. It was planned months ago. We're going together as this country's representatives, but we might not even be in the same hotel." If there were too many guests, they might have put the same kinds of people together.

"I think we are. Even months ago my staff knew I wanted to be in your hotel."

That was news to Elizabeth and she looked amazed. "They did? How?"

"I told them," he said with a grin. "I told them that wherever we go, we always need to be in the same hotel because we always have a lot of business to discuss."

Mary discovered that she was suddenly much more interesting than before. "Did your uncle really marry Queen Elizabeth?" the girls asked her.

It was not clear to her what they hoped to gain by suddenly becoming her friend. Did they really think she was that stupid? "Yes, he did," she answered curtly.

"What's she like?"

"She's nice."

"Does she talk to you too?"

"Duh!" This was all she could say, even though Mary had asked Henry a similar question a long while ago, after he had first met the Queen.

"What does she say?"

"I don't know. Everything."

That was a bit hard for the girls to imagine. "You mean she knows your name and that's it?"

"I don't care if your mothers or stepmothers act that way. Mine doesn't," Mary said haughtily.

Part Three Concluded...
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