I look over to Keir for some help, but it’s the King who comes to my rescue. “Now, dearest, we shouldn’t pry. You know how private Keir likes to keep his love life.”
This might be the first time I’ve ever seen Keir blush. I’m definitely going to tease him about that later when we’re alone again. For now, I’m just happy to spread some of this awkwardness around. The Queen is lovely, but I can’t keep dodging her questions without seeming rude.
“Okay, okay,” she sighs, sneaking me a secretive smile. “I’ll stop for now. I just enjoy seeing people who are in love. It’s one of life’s simplest, greatest pleasures.”
“Keir, I want to hear about your trip to Kenya last year. Margot and I have to go to Ghana later this year to try and make amends. Tell me about your experience. Was the flight long?”
Keir looks thoughtful. He stretches out his arms along the banquette seat, looking out over the Seine. “I imagine that you have a lot of history to make up for. I went under the flag of Scotland, as opposed to England. It was tricky, because just a few years earlier I would’ve been forced to go under the English flag. As you can imagine, the reception was much more genial. I think in part because Scotland was also colonized by England.”
Margot nods. “I want to go to Ghana. I pushed for a large endowment of scholarships to be issued to anybody in Ghana that wants them. Our government was not thrilled by the prospect—“
“That’s one way to say it,” Stellan intones. “Another way is to say that Margot got death threats for about a year after she proposed it.”
Margot gives him a flat look. “Yes, but everyone is now in agreement. Right?”
Stellan leans back, jerking his head toward the royal guard that is huddled at a table near the front of the boat. “We had to double the number of security officers.”
“Ah. We are going through a bit of a growth spurt ourselves.” Keir sighs. “Ella seems to be taking it worse than Isla.”
“She doesn’t realize how intrusive they are on her private moments!” I laugh, a little outraged. “It’s different when you’re raised with security. If you’re an adult, you know what you’re losing. It’s bound to be a little awkward.”
Keir flicks a wrist. “You seem to be adjusting. I saw you come back from shopping yesterday. You were carrying two tiny bags and the poor guards each had two overflowing armfuls of purchases.”
Feeling my face grow red, I stick my tongue out at him. “They offered to carry the bags!”
Margot rolls her eyes. “I’ve been married to Stellan for three and half years and he still has the same gripes. Like he cares what I buy. Keir, surely you don’t begrudge Ella buying herself a few things on your charge account?”
“Not really.” Keir scrunches up his face, sliding his eyes to me. To my relief, there is amusement in his eyes. “Especially when I peeked in your shopping bag. There was some seriously shocking lingerie in there and I for one can’t wait until you model it for me.”
“Keir!” I cry, my eyes going wide. “I can’t believe you! This is the very definition of mixed company.”
He grins and Stellan chuckles. “If you feel like telling Margot where you got the lingerie, I think we would be very appreciative.” He pauses, tilting his head. “Maybe we could use it after the baby comes.”
Margot blushes. “You guys are the worst. Do me a favor and change the subject.”
Stellan elbows Keir and they both laugh. Margot shakes her head and I get up, pulling Margot along with me to look out the large picture window as a lovely view of nighttime in Paris sails by.
The King distracts Keir with a new story, making him laugh really hard. I sk Margot about her kid, and she starts talking about her older child and how much she’s enjoying her pregnancy this time around. I’m starting to relax now that all the relationship speculation seems to be over, and I can’t help but notice how happy Keir seems to be.
Yes, we’re having lunch with royalty. But they’re also Keir’s friends, his people. Aside from that brief moment when he started blushing—which was also adorable, by the way—I’ve never seen him look happier or more at ease outside the privacy of his penthouse.
He’s charming. He’s friendly. And if he was like this all the time?
God, there’s no doubt in my mind I would have fallen hard for him a long time ago.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
KEIRAN
Spending time with Stellan and Margot has turned out to be exactly what I needed. My family problems in Scotland feel like they’re a whole world away while Ella and I get whisked from one grand Parisian function to another with the royal couple.
Yes, we draw more attention than I’d prefer, but for once it seems the press and the public don’t give a damn about seeing me. They suck up all the oxygen in the room no matter where they are, and I fucking love it.
Aside from posing for a few photos here and there with the King and Queen, Ella and I have been left to enjoy the sights and act like a couple of common tourists. I haven’t felt so carefree in years.
Case in point—the four of us are walking into a museum where the Queen is scheduled to open an exhibit, and I don’t feel anxious or wary of the press at all.
Because they aren’t. Here. For. Me.
“We need to travel with these two more often,” I whisper into Ella’s ear. We step into the large central rotunda where Margot and Stellan will pose for pictures and give a couple of brief speeches. “We’re just part of the entourage. Nobody’s paying any attention to us.”
“Are you sure about that?” Ella nibbles at her lip as she looks around the room at the dozens of cameras pointed in our direction. “I feel like there’s a huge spotlight on us wherever we go.”
I’m surprised by her hesitation. I guess I’ve never really noticed how she reacts when the press and paparazzi are around, but it’s clear she isn’t a huge fan of all the attention. I reach over and give her hand a reassuring squeeze as the crowd starts to politely applaud the King and Queen.
“The spotlight is mostly on them today,” I say. “Would you feel more comfortable standing off to the side a little?”
She shakes her head, but I can tell she’s lying. “It’s fine. Really, it is. I just… you know me. I’d be happy to never have my picture taken by a stranger ever again.”
I feel a surge of protectiveness as she takes a step back and I make a mental note to do a better job of putting her at ease—or at least making her feel as comfortable as possible—in the future when we’re out in public together.
For now, I try my best to subtly shield her with my body while the press snap photos.
Overhearing part of her conversation with the Queen at lunch reminded me that Margot’s background is similar to Ella’s in a lot of ways. And Margot had to step into a much larger, international role when she married Stellan. Hopefully she shared some wisdom and insight with Ella about how to handle that kind of massive lifestyle change.
Except… why am I even thinking about that? After publicly telling anyone and everyone who will listen that Ella is just my nanny, am I really starting to think about a possible future with her?