Chapter Text
For the past two years, seeing him had been like performing a complex military manoeuvre in order to escape the constant clicks of the cameras, so the amount of time they had spent together had greatly reduced. This had done nothing to ease the need to be together, with each snatched meeting more precious than the last. They’d spoken on the phone throughout his trip to Australia but had never been entirely confident with the security of the line and therefore conversation had remained on safe subjects. By the end of the trip he’d been phoning her constantly, for a scant few minutes at a time, and she’d known he’d used her voice as a way to calm himself. It had made her ache for him with the need to temper his anxiety. He’d phoned her when he’d reached St James Palace and, secure in their privacy, they’d talked until he’d fallen fast asleep whilst on the line. She’d placed the receiver next to her ear and had listened to him snore, knowing that was as close as she could get to him and had then rested her head on the pillow to allow him to ease her to sleep. Neither of them had broached what had happened in Australia; it hung like a sword.
Tonight, they are meeting at her sister’s house for dinner and her heart is pitter-pattering in anticipation of seeing him. Her sister’s household is as chaotic as normal and she gets stuck into the chaos quickly, rushing about the kitchen, doing a hundred jobs before the guests arrive. She contrasts this with her own parties, which run like clockwork, and smiles as she recalls how Andrew panics when she’s up in her room, pretending to be still getting dressed to wind him up, ten minutes before people are meant to arrive. She used to host enough events to manage a simple dinner party without stress but her sister seems to thrive on it so she never intervenes.
“Darling, the door! Get it for me!”
She knows better than to argue with her sister when she’s like this, even if really, Annabel should be the one greeting the guests. Her parents are at the door and she starts to help her father with her mother’s wheelchair before he tells her to get her brother, looking at her in shock and a touch of disapproval. Of course, she should know better than to do a man’s job whilst in a pretty dress. She makes to return inside but recognises Charles’s voice as he calls out to her and turns as he and her father help her mother up the steps. Beating abnormally loudly, her heart informs her of its pleasure to see him and as he kisses her cheeks in greeting, she feels her body sinking against his. It’s difficult to pull apart, made doubly so by how he kisses her lips, once, making her gasp out her breath. Then decorum dictates they must part so they do, and she attempts to greet her mother, who is in a daze of pain and barely acknowledges her.
He wants her attention all evening, demands it, even as he engages in conversation with those around him. His eyes are just on her, following her around the room, smiling at her, laughing with her. When they’re stood together, it’s difficult to speak as just this chaste distance makes her heart pang against her chest and she wants to kiss him so much it’s painful. It’s only much later on that she gets him to herself and she wraps her arms around him and pulls him down to kiss her and it’s fire.
Her sister interrupts them with a knock on the table and even then it’s difficult to pull away. They stand clinched, together, not wanting to return from the daze of each other. Realising that her sister is handing them both a glass of port, they are ushered into the snug and they sit huddled on the sofa, opposite Annabel and her husband, pressed as close to each other as possible, fingers entwined. She takes a sip of port before placing her glass on the side table, noting him mirror her and reaches to hold his other hand, her fingers gently stroking down his.
“So go on, tell us about what happened.”
Ever direct, her sister is more nosy than she is and she smiles as she presses her shoulder into his, feeling him adjust to accommodate her, to allow her to be closer. He’s nonchalant about the whole affair, telling them the facts but skips over any detail, despite Annabel’s prompting. A frown grows on her brow as she worries about him and her fingers press harder into his.
“We saw it on the news,” Annabel looks to her husband for confirmation, “and I have to say, Sir, it was frightfully worrying.”
“It scared me.” She uses her own feelings to prompt his but it just allows them to raise to the surface again.
“It was nothing, really.”
She feels his hand on her cheek, turning her face towards his and meeting his eyes with a jolt. “But it still scared me.”
“Don’t be scared for me. I was never really unsafe.” His voice is breathy and his eyes are boring into hers earnestly.
“But you could have been. That’s what scared me. It still scares me.” She feels her lip twitching with the effort of not allowing her emotions to take hold of her.
“I think we’re retiring upstairs now. Everything’s locked up so you can head up when you want.” Her sister nudges her husband out of the room, leaving them. She knows they’re giving her space to talk to him and she’s grateful.
“It was that little of a danger, I did my speech straight afterwards.”
His fingers are caressing her face and it’s difficult to maintain the conversation.
“But you’re allowed to cry if you need to.”
She shakes her head, annoyed with herself. “You were amazing to deliver that speech. I don’t think most people would have managed to do that. I was so proud of you.”
“It was nothing.”
She feels a stray tear flee her eye and race down her cheek, flinging over her chin and down her neck. He traces the pathway with his thumb before kissing her neck, making her heart ache. “It wasn’t nothing. You don’t realise how special you are.”
“Why are you crying? You knew I was alright.”
It wasn’t that. It was that you didn’t care. I saw your face, you just… It was as if it genuinely didn’t matter to you what happened. Charles, I need you to care…”
“I do care, my Darling. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get in touch with you. I wanted to terribly when I realised how big the story was, but by then it was like everything was deliberately conspiring, not letting me reach you. There wasn’t a break in the engagements and I had no one around me I could trust to phone you. Then there was that awful storm… But I know that’s no excuse. I should have phoned you right away but I didn’t think…”
“I don’t mind about that. That’s not what upset me so much.”
“I’m sorry, though.”
She feels his lips kissing her neck in penitence and it’s difficult to keep questioning him, it would be far too easy to reach for him instead. “Why didn’t you care about what happened to you?”
He pulls away from her immediately and she doesn’t try to stop him although her heart pangs.
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth, Darling. Always the truth. Even if you think I won’t like to hear it.”
“I’m cold.”
She pulls a blanket from the wicker basket at the end of the sofa, knowing he’s stalling, letting him organise his thoughts. Wrapping it around the both of them, she feels him wriggling until he has his head on her chest. Gently, she eases them down onto the sofa, their legs entwined and then she adjusts the blanket around them again. She waits.
“I was disappointed.”
He stops but she doesn’t interrupt, just strokes his head softly.
“It wasn’t real. I don’t want to die, don’t worry. I just… even an assassination attempt wasn’t a real one. I knew it wasn’t a real gun. The sound wasn’t right. It was pathetic. Just like me.”
“You’re not pathetic, Darling. Please don’t think that.”
“I could just imagine Diana laughing at me for making a scene and I don’t want to embarrass the boys any more than I already have. They already think I’m weak.”
It makes her heart ache for him. She kisses the top of his head.
“And then I couldn’t even ring you and I turned into a monster. I shouted at all my staff. I was obnoxious to everyone. So rude. My father would have taken me to pieces if he’d had heard.”
“You are allowed to be upset after what happened. You are human.”
“You were upset with me, weren’t you.”
“Yes.”
“You wouldn’t even come to the phone. Andrew answered for you.”
“I didn’t answer because Andrew didn’t want me to worry you, I wasn’t not talking to you.”
“Andrew needs to stay out of it! He’s always interfering. I was worried that you weren’t talking to me. If you’re upset, I still want to talk to you. I want to make you feel better. I still want to talk to you if you’re upset with me; I want to fix us, to make it alright. I thought you must have been so angry with me. I sat and stewed for two hours, waiting to call you. I’ve worried about this for two weeks.”
“I wasn’t angry with you. I promise. And I wouldn’t do that to you. Well I was a tiny bit angry but not like that. You could have demanded that Andrew pass the phone over.”
“If you were angry with me, me doing that would have lit the fuse.”
“True. I’d not thought of that.” That makes them both giggle, despite the conversation.
“Your eyes if I’d done that… I’d have loved to have been a fly on the wall but there is no way I would deliberately cause that!”
She smiles and her fingers caress his face, running along his cheek, over his lips which reach out to kiss her.
“I’m sorry for making you upset. If I’d been able to phone you earlier, you would have been fine.”
“It’s okay. I’m tough.”
“I know. But I’m sorry you have to be. Was Andrew good with you?”
“Yes.”
“Well that makes a change.”
“No it doesn’t.”
“He’s never there for you when you’re upset. I know. I’m the one who holds you when you’re crying.”
“I’ve never let him know I’m upset.”
“Why?”
She shrugs but he doesn’t say anything, waiting for her to continue. This is uncomfortable; she feels a cold prickle down her spine. He never usually picks at her marriage. “To never give him reason to not want to come home to me.”
He sighs and she knows he’s annoyed with her, or perhaps annoyed with Andrew. “If you ever do that to me, I will be so angry with you. I love you, my Darling, not the cultivated fragments of yourself you feel you should proffer to keep me happy. With me, in person, alone like this, are you always yourself or do you feel you have to perform?”
“That’s a level of honesty I’m not sure I can always manage.”
“What about most of the time?”
“Are you always honest with me?”
“In person, yes… Most of the time…”
“Then I’ll try for most of the time.” She smiles and wriggles down so she can reach his lips. “On the subject of honesty, tell me what you were thinking.”
“At that moment, not very much. Disappointed, like I said.”
“And after?”
“Fear. Not of death itself, I don’t fear that. Fear that I could die without being true to myself. Fear that I could die thousands of miles away from you and not see you before I have to go. I’m not ready to give up. I must find a way to be with you or there’s no reason for existence, even if I can’t see a way forward. Oh, Darling, you’re crying again.”
“Only a tiny bit.” But her heart is beating so hard, he must be able to feel it against his hand as he spreads his fingers over her chest. This love is so different from anything that came before. His words encompass and soothe her even as she’s trying to help him, to listen to him. She feels his soft kisses across her cheeks and on the tip of her nose.
“I would be so happy with you. I’ve always known that. And I believe I would make you happy, if we married. I think it’s the only solution available to us.”
“Marriage?”
“Yes, Darling. I can’t have you subject to the constant indignities of being my mistress. Marriage is the only way forward.”
“I’m not so sure other people would agree.”
“Well we’ll have to show them. Darling, you’d be quite wonderful. I know you would.”
“Would I be Queen Camilla? Even saying the name sounds ridiculous.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You’d be Her Majesty, The Queen.”
“It’s ludicrous. You’re sounding like Andrew.”
“Andrew said I would make you my Queen?”
“I think Andrew was just joking about which titles I could bestow on him were I to become Queen. But he was having a laugh. He wasn’t serious.”
“Well I am.”
“And I would happily marry you in this fairytale land you’ve concocted.”
“Only in a fairytale land?”
“I would marry you in any land.”
“Marry me now.”
“I take thee Charles Arthur… to have and to hold…”
“I take thee Camilla Rosemary… for better, for worse…”
The words had started as a joke but the second he says her name, she realises it’s not. It’s a longing too desperate to give any inch of escape but she can’t help it, the words come tumbling out, “To love and to cherish…”
“Till death us do part.”
They’re lying nose to nose and she can feel his breath heavy against her lips. “I mean it.” The words are whispered but she says them loud enough for him to hear.
“As do I, my Darling, as do I. One day. I promise you.” He bites her nose, making her giggle and she tries to retaliate but he pulls away each time, making them both laugh.
“Now we’ve remedied that infliction, was that the only thing that bothered you?”
“Are we not going to consummate the marriage first?”
She giggles at him, kissing him firmly, letting it linger until he reaches to kiss her again then she pulls away. “No. Later. What else bothered you?”
“Loneliness. Unfulfilment. Boredom. Dissatisfaction with life. Love or the lack of love.”
“I love you!”
“I know. But you’re not with me and I spend my time pining for you, longing for your love.”
“You need to soak it up when you’ve got it. Store it up and make it last.”
“Does that work for you?”
“Well… not exactly…”
“It doesn’t work for me at all. Perhaps if I could spend enough time with you to get fully charged up? Then I might just need to be topped up but I run down to zero the day I leave you and I know how far away the next time will be and I live on empty, clinging onto your voice when we speak on the phone.”
She closes her eyes at his words, her face scrunched as if to deter the tears but he wipes them from her cheeks and kisses her heavily.
“And yet again, I’ve made you cry. I’m so sorry.”
“You have my love. You have all of it. It’s yours. Take it. Take all that you need. Take more. It’s the most natural feeling in the world and it grows and grows. I give it all to you and it’s still there, overflowing.”
“Mine isn’t like that. Mine feels like a solid structure, part of me, grown throughout my life into what makes me, me. I worry I don’t share it enough with you.”
“You gave me your heart thirty years ago. I kept it here, safe.” She taps her chest. “It’s a part of me now. You need to remember that you possess mine.”
“I find it so difficult when we’re apart for so long.”
“I know, Darling. But I’m here. I’m always here for you. Was there anything else? Anything else that troubled you in Australia?”
“Just that it was such a poor attempt. He didn’t even make the effort to do it properly. I wasn’t worth the effort.”
“He was protesting. He wasn’t trying to kill you.”
“I know that now…”
“It’s a stupid reason, being disappointed.”
“Just a pathetic little man with an agenda.”
Seriously, Charles. You sound like a spoilt brat.”
He scoffs but she can tell he finds her amusing. “I am a spoilt brat. I think that’s the entire point of being a Prince.”
“You don’t get to be a spoilt brat around me.”
“Yes, I’m aware… I’m on my best behaviour at all times around you.”
“Christ. That’s your best behaviour?”
“If it had been a real assassination attempt, and I’d escaped unscathed, or possibly with just a very attractive mark which would turn into a war wound, then you’d be so beside yourself with worry, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me.”
She giggles. “Especially if you’d been terribly brave and apprehended the armed man with your bare hands.”
“And saved all the people in the event from his tyranny.”
“You are a hero, Darling.”
“And then I handed him over to law enforcement and pulled you to me.”
“And I was overcome with how astonishingly brave you are.”
“And you kissed me in front of everyone.”
“Desperately.” Her stomach spins and she squeals loudly as he flips her over onto her back and then her skin fires with the anticipation of kissing him as he grasps hold of her wrists and hoists them above her head. She hears the side table hit the floor with a loud thud and they both giggle.
“What else would you let me do in celebration of my heroics.”
“Anything you want to do.” She strains up to kiss him, hearing the moan leave his mouth but he pulls away and looks down at her, his eyes impossibly dark.
“Jesus, Milla.” He reaches to kiss her again and she tugs her wrists from his grasp, reaching up to hook her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her, kissing him, the rush through her body immediate and fierce.
“This might…” Her words trail off as he kisses her harder, his hands dragging down her body making her strain to get closer to him. “…shock people.”
“Let it.” The words shoot out with his breath as he pulls down the straps of her dress and his hands against her bare skin shoot through her into a thousand separate strands, piercing through her body, making her call out. She can’t pull him close enough.
“For Christ sake Camilla. I put you in the back bedroom so you’d be on the other side of the house to us. This room is directly under our bedroom. I’m not having it.”
She pulls him against her to shield herself, and starts to giggle at the expression on her sister’s face. Her giggle sets Charles off and Annabel is not amused, turning on her heel and shutting the door with a thud.
“She’s jealous.”
“Oh absolutely.”
They giggle to themselves, kissing intermittently, trying not to get carried away with the kisses.
“Let’s stay here. We’d have to be quiet. Not get caught by my sister.”
“Oh no. You promised me that you’d do anything I want. I most certainly don’t want to be quiet. And I don’t want you to be quiet. And I need more room than on a shabby old sofa.”
“Well you can start me off here.”
“You think you can be quiet?”
“Yes!”
“Are you positive?”
She bites her lip, her eyes gleaming up at him. She feels his hands grab hold of her legs and he pulls her roughly to him, making her stomach fly, making her squeak slightly.
“Your sister will be really annoyed if she has to listen to you after that.”
But he touches her and she can’t stifle the moan even as he presses his hand against her mouth and he laughs, reaching down to kiss her.
“Upstairs.”
“Yes, Sir.” She giggles again as he raises his eyebrows at her before wriggling out of his grasp and rolling off the sofa onto her feet. Holding her hand out to him, her face gleams as he tugs it, threatening to pull her on top of him and then he lets her pull him up and charges at her, holding onto her as he manoeuvres her backwards out the door, both of them giggling, unable to stop kissing each other.