When they finally pulled apart, they were both smiling.
And then Teddy shocked her by falling to one knee.
“Marry me, Beatrice.”
She couldn’t speak as Teddy unbuttoned his coat and reached into his jacket pocket for a velvet box. He opened it, revealing a beautiful sapphire engagement ring.
At the sight of it, a memory stirred loose. “This isn’t the first time you’ve given me this ring, is it?”
Teddy smiled in cautious hope. “It was my grandmother’s, and, yes, you’ve seen it before. The night of your accident.”
“You’ve been carrying it around this whole time?”
“I’ve wanted to marry you this whole time. I guess I was just waiting for the right moment. Please, Bee, let’s get married,” he said again. “I can’t wait any longer.”
It took a moment for Beatrice to realize what he was suggesting. “You want to get married today?”
He smiled again, a bit shyly. “Why not? Everyone is already here; the palace is decorated. We can still give the guests a royal wedding, even if it’s not the one they came for.”
“That’s—” Beatrice fumbled for the right word. Outrageous, impulsive. “Unprecedented,” she said at last.
“So is having a Queen of America. I thought you and I were throwing precedent to the winds, remember?”
Beatrice tugged Teddy gently to his feet, and he stood, still holding the velvet box.
“Please don’t do this just because you think it’ll help avoid a public relations scandal,” she told him.
Teddy’s gaze was intent, his hands steady as they went to rest on her shoulders.
“I’m doing this because I want to be married to you. I’ve never cared about the wedding part; I care about the part where I’m your husband. In my mind, this is actually a bonus,” Teddy added, his blue eyes dancing. “I have no desire to plan a wedding all over again. This way Daphne and Jeff did all the heavy lifting, and we can just take over their wedding without any effort.”
Beatrice hesitated. “It’s not such a terrible idea.”
If she and Teddy got married today, the guests would still get a royal wedding—and not just of the prince, but of the queen. Some of them might consider that an upgrade. And it would certainly deflect attention from the Jefferson-Daphne scandal. Anju would be thrilled.
“This isn’t our guest list,” she reminded him.
Teddy shrugged. “My family is here. That’s all that matters to me.”
“We didn’t pick the food, or the band, or the flowers.”
“I don’t really care. Does it bother you?”
No, Beatrice had to admit, it didn’t. Still, she kept going. “There’s no chance I’ll fit into Daphne’s wedding gown.”
“Good thing your wedding gown is still in the palace,” Teddy reminded her.
At that, a wild, eager laugh bubbled out of Beatrice, the sort of giddy laugh that was normally Sam’s territory. Teddy was right. They could step into the wedding that Daphne and Jeff had planned as easily as understudies filling the places of actors who’d gotten called offstage.
But that wasn’t the reason she wanted to agree. She thought of walking down the aisle, seeing Teddy waiting for her at the end of it, and a deep satisfaction thrummed through her body.
She didn’t know what the future held. No one could. But Beatrice was determined to stop worrying about the past, fretting over memories that might never come back. She needed to lean on the things she did feel certain of. The job she had been trained for, and the people she loved.
“Okay,” she said slowly. If loving someone was a leap of faith, then she was ready to jump.
Teddy sucked in a breath. “That’s a yes?”
“It’s a yes.”
He startled her by reaching under her armpits to lift her, spinning her around in the air so that her hair whipped out in the wind.
“Teddy!” Beatrice laughed so hard it brought tears to her eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Celebrating,” he said simply.
When he lowered her back to earth, he brushed another quick kiss on her lips. Beatrice whistled for Franklin, then looked back toward the palace.
“Let’s go get married,” she declared.
Samantha was used to being her family’s decoy, the one they could count upon to reliably deflect attention, so she wasn’t surprised when Beatrice asked her to do a walkabout.
Beatrice made the request as she and Sam hurried down the hallway toward the Brides’ Room. The wedding, which the world still thought was Jeff and Daphne’s, was scheduled to start in one hour—and Beatrice needed to get into bride mode.
“Can you just distract everyone for a little while?” Beatrice pleaded. “Give social media something to buzz about, so they don’t realize how behind schedule we are. You can take Mom, if you want?”
Sam smiled. “I think Mom would rather be here with you. How did she react when she heard about Jeff and Daphne?”
“She’s worried for them, but it’s all happening so fast that I doubt she’s had time to fully process it.” Amusement glittered in Beatrice’s eyes as she added, “Anju literally squealed. She’s downstairs getting my gown out of storage right now.”
“I’m so happy for you, Bee.” Sam’s voice snagged on the words.
Hearing it, her sister halted in her tracks and pulled Sam in for a hug. “I love you, Sam,” she whispered.
Sam closed her eyes, willing back the tears. Beatrice had been so many things to her over the years: her opposition when they were children, her fiercest advocate when they were older, and always her role model. Quiet and selfless and brilliant and strong.
Beatrice deserved every ounce of joy that was headed her way today.
“I can’t believe you’re going to use Daphne’s wedding,” she couldn’t resist adding. “It’s just going to be so…” So full of white flowers and frilly lace linens and pink champagne, everything that Daphne thought of as happily ever after. “So princess-y,” Sam concluded.
Her sister snorted out a laugh. “That’s okay. I don’t mind a little bit of princess-y.”
“In that case, I’ll go buy you as much time as I can,” Sam promised. “See you in the throne room, Bee.”
When she stepped out into the cold winter afternoon, a sea of noise greeted her, and an unwitting smile rose to Sam’s face.