I considered the option. “I’d really like to see the looks on their faces when they discover they’re here to arrest Prince Andrew.”
Andrew smiled at that. “Seriously, it’ll take five minutes and then, if you want, I’ll be out of your life for good and you’ll never have to see me again.”
I made more of a show of thinking this over than was actually necessary. Much as I hated to admit it, it was nice to see him again, and I did need to talk to him at some point to tell him I was pregnant. I didn’t want to be one of those women who kept a baby from a man, no matter what the circumstances.
“Do you want a drink?” I asked.
“No thanks,” Andrew said, relieved that he seemed to have been given permission to stay. “I’d rather have a clear head.”
“All right.” I sat down on my sofa. “Shoot.”
A brief spasm passed across Andrew’s face which suggested that though he’d got what he wanted, he had been in no way prepared for such an occurrence and was now wondering what the hell he was going to say.
“I found out about the whole engagement plan a few months ago,” he began. “It never really seemed…real. You know? Just another bullshit thing my mother came up with. I get handed a schedule every few months saying I’m doing this charity event, this dinner, this ceremony where I have to wear silly robes and wave a sword about. And some of them I do, and some I duck out of, and some just don’t come to pass, and I don’t really think about any of them.”
“You put your own engagement into the category of ‘don’t think about it at all’?” I asked. I’d decided that I’d hear him out and not interrupt, but some things did require clarification.
“In hindsight,” Andrew continued, “that may have been a bit shortsighted. But I have an explanation. I tried to tell you the other day, but you were quite agitated.”
I sighed. “Well, let’s hear it.”
“I honestly never really thought the engagement would happen. I mean, I’ve known Alexandra since we were kids, and I like her well enough I suppose, but I figured it was just one of my mother’s scare tactics. She’s done it before, you know; acted like some wedding was being arranged between me and some aristocrat’s daughter, just to frighten me into settling down. It’s never worked before, and my so-called ‘future fiancées’ always happened to meet someone else within mere weeks of my mother telling me about the alleged future engagement. So it was never real. Just a stupid scare tactic my mother used on me whenever I got in trouble in the gossip columns or something.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So yes, she told me about the upcoming Alexandra engagement thing. But then I met you. And once I met you, her whole plan just faded into insignificance. I never even gave it a moment’s thought until she brought it up again the other day. I figured it would turn out the same as the last few so-called engagement plans—I figured Alexandra would take it about as seriously as I did and meet some other guy, and my mother would forget about the whole thing and leave me be. So when she started talking about it again, I didn’t object; I just sat there and said what she wanted to hear so that I wouldn’t cause a big argument. And that’s what you overheard. Call me a pussy if you like; it’s true, I really acted like one. I’m sorry for that. I should’ve said something to you about it, and I should’ve bloody well told my mother to stop interfering with my life.”
I didn’t say anything for a moment as his words sank in, and he ran a hand through his hair and spoke again. “I know this must be hard to believe, but this is just the way royalty works.”
“What way is that, exactly? As a commoner, I’m still a little confused,” I said, my voice tinged with sarcasm.
“Your life isn’t your own. You’re a symbol and you have to be that symbol, even in your personal life. And that means that your personal life is stage-managed to fit with someone else’s preconceived notions of what it ought to be.” He sat, looking glum. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always kicked against it. Gone my own way and thoroughly pissed people off in the meantime.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you trying to make me believe that sleeping around and getting hammered makes you some sort of revolutionary?”
I had limited patience with privileged people feeling sorry for themselves.
“I guess that might be stretching a point,” Andrew admitted. “But in my own way…” he paused, obviously trying to order his thoughts, which was actually quite adorable. “You know how all kids rebel against their parents?”