Arranged British Love

Read the memo! (Please)

I gripped the plush, leather arms of the seat tightly; take-off and landing always made me nervous. The Royal Family’s jet had been sent to America to pick me, me up! But unfortunately that left me alone on this large plane, with the exception of the pilots and two air stewardesses. So there was no one with me to hold my hand and reassure me that the 8 hour flight would be fine.

Not that there was anyone to do that before. Except for my dad, Chris. Dad was the complete opposite of mum and had been utterly in love with her. That is before she divorced him for an upgrade in the form of the Step-creep.

Ten minutes after the plane had levelled out, one of the air stewardesses came over and offered me a drink of orange juice. I accepted and pulled out my laptop, putting it on my lap and connecting it to the plug in the arm of the chair. As soon as it had switched on, I clicked on my email. It was strange that only three hours ago, I was a normal teenage girl with a boyfriend and a prospect at a life of my own. I hadn’t even told my best friend in the whole wide world what was happening. I had known Mimi for twelve years and now I was going to be hundreds of miles away from her!

I clicked a few times and began writing an explanation to my closest friend.

Hey Mimi, guess where I am!

On a plane.

To London.

Yes, Mimi, that’s right. London. My stupid mother and Step-creep are forcing me to marry Ethan.

‘Who is Ethan?’ I hear you ask. He is, in fact, Prince Ethan of Wales. No I am not joking, yes I do realise what this means and yes, you can come out to visit any time you want. Email me as soon as you get this.

I’ll email you with an update tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Miss you loads already.

P.

XXX

After I had sent the message, I clicked the Google button and typed in the name of my husband-to-be. I scrolled down through the first few links before one caught my eye. ‘Is the Heir to the British Throne partying too hard?’ The link sent me to E! Online and I was met with a large picture of a tall, blonde haired teenager stumbling out of a nightclub with a girl on each arm, all three of them looking incredibly drunk. I shook my head. Why would anyone want to embarrass themselves like that? Sure he was a Royal, but that doesn’t give him the right to do whatever he wanted.

I could tell that this wasn’t going to be an easy marriage. The paragraph beneath the picture went;

‘The handsome young Prince Ethan was seen walking out of one of London’s hottest clubs last Saturday with a blonde bombshell on each arm. But we have to ask the question, is the heir to the British throne partying too hard, too much? If this photo is anything to go by, than yes.’

I stopped reading then, too horrified to carry on. We would never get on if this was how he acted. I wasn’t one to go out partying every night of the week. Sure, I’d been to parties at friends’ houses with alcohol and I’d gotten slightly tipsy (drunk enough to make two High School Musical playing cards make out), but I’d never been as drunk as Ethan looked in that photo.

“Would you like anything to eat, ma’am?” The stewardess asked, and I closed the laptop so she wouldn’t see my snooping into her employer’s son.

I nodded and relaxed against the chair. “A chocolate brownie would be much appreciated.”

Eight hours later, I was driven to a mansion in the countryside, close to Windsor Castle. The chauffer hopped out and opened my door for me, before rushing to the large oak front doors and opening them, then running back to the car to get my luggage. I thanked him quietly and walked to the door, in front of which two people had appeared. They waved me over and I walked up the marble steps before reaching the top.

And I realised who these two were.

It was the King and Queen of England.

I honestly nearly fainted right then and there.

They were both young, fairly wrinkle-less and dresses immaculately. The Queen smiled widely with sparkling perfect teeth and opened her arms. “Phoebe! It is so lovely to finally meet you! Your father has told us so much about you.”

I smiled and stepped into her arms, putting my arms around her and stopping myself from squealing that I was hugging one of the most important people in the world.

“My name is Arabella, and this is my husband Sebastian.” Like I needed to be told who they were!

Sebastian held out his hand which I shook and he grinned at me. “How was your flight over?” He asked in a strong British accent.

I nodded my head. “I was very good, much more comfortable than First Class.” I laughed. They laughed along and Arabella exclaimed, “Isn’t she darling! Her accent is even better than Chris’s.”

“You know my father?”

“Of course, he was the one that suggested you to us!” My soon to be mother-in-law ushered me into the house and then a large living room with a roaring fire; it was a cold April in England. “You see, Ethan does not exactly...act, the way we would prefer him to. Partying wildly, drinking heavily, and we knew that if we did not act fast, he would never find a suitable wife. And your father told us that you were exactly what we were looking for! So here you are.”

“Yes, here I am.” I said, raising my eyebrows slightly, making a mental note to murder my father when I see him next. “So...where are we? Your house? I thought that you guys lived in Buckingham Palace...or Windsor Castle.”

Sebastian laughed. “Yes we do sometimes. This is more of a family home. It is where we decided that the children should live. By that I mean Ethan and his younger sister Juliet. And, now you.”

Ah yes, Princess Juliet of Wales. How could I forget that cute little face? As if she had been listening in, Juliet ran around the corner and jumped onto the sofa beside me.

“You’re here! I’m Juliet.” The twelve year old grinned widely, hugging my waist.

There was a cough from in front of us and Juliet released me from her grip and smoothed her dress down. “Sorry.” She said in her high, English accent.

“How about, we go for a walk. You’ve just been on an eight hour flight, it’ll be a chance to stretch your legs. We can go across the road to walk the dogs.” Arabella smiled, standing up.

I nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

We exited the house with two golden Labradors walking by our heels and Juliet dragging on my hand.