The Royal Scandal: An American with an English Prince

"I hold the world but as the world…
A stage where every man must play a part,
And mine a sad one." ~ from The Merchant of Venice

Genevieve had promised herself that she would not succumb to the urge to do the one thing she knew would break her heart. Yet each ticking of the annoying grandfather clock had her fragile nerves and her carefully laid out plan shattering. Especially with the cheering she could hear coming from outside.

She tapped her bare feet in frustration as she sipped the hot cup of coffee she had just made, knowing that what she really wanted to do was push off the kitchen counter she was leaning against and walk over to switch on the TV. It was such a short distance to the end of all those agonizing thoughts that kept rolling around in her head.

Genevieve took two steps before she stopped herself, “Don’t you dare do it!”

Quickly she drained her coffee, glad for the bitter taste that matched her mood as she went to the sink and washed her cup and the dishes that had been piling up for days. When another roar of cheer went up, Genevieve jerked and dropped the plate she had been soaping onto the floor. She kneeled down and gathered up the tiny pieces, feeling like they were really the pieces of her broken heart. Genevieve bit her tongue hard to stop the tears that had been flowing nonstop for the last few days from resurfacing. She was normally a very calm and collected person, not a weepy waterfall. She had never been this upset over a guy in her life and of course this had to happen to her with the one person on earth she didn’t have a chance of keeping. Taking a heavy breath in, Genevieve calmed herself but then her little gray and white kitten, Mercutio, appeared. The tiny bell around his neck ringed with every step of his paw as he hurried towards Genevieve as if sensing her near breakdown. He tentatively settled onto her lap so trusting as he curled into a small ball against Genevieve. With a chocked sigh and the sting of tears in her eyes she tried to deal with the fact that today she had to be the only miserable person in all of England—and most likely many areas of the world. Genevieve also was one of the only people currently inside while hundreds and thousands of people had crowded the streets in hopes of catching a glimpse of the royal couple.

This wedding was what had her in such a dismal mood in the first place. It was because of this stupid wedding that she had ended up tossing and turning in her bed for hours all night. The morning hadn’t improved as she had tried to convince herself that she was fatigued and wanted to sleep until one in the afternoon. Genevieve hadn’t fallen asleep; instead she had remained in bed wide awake and stared at the ceiling until it was one fifteen all because she was trying not to turn on the television and watch the royal wedding.

If Genevieve did than she would see him…Prince Harry.

The man was supposed to have been a casual fling during her year in London but instead seemed to have become an essential part of her life. Who would have thought? Certainly not her. Genevieve had been sure that he was just another spoiled rich boy that wanted her, the American, to rebel against his family and duty. Harry had surprised her in wanting to keep any relationship between them a secret and after a little push she had agreed to a purely open and temporary relationship. Genevieve regretted terribly the day she had made the deal as the months passed by. Both had had enough of serious relationships that only ended in betrayal and they had wanted freedom, not commitment. Genevieve also knew that there was no way that she could ever expect Harry to want to take a commoner as his princess especially an American one. Kate Middleton may have caught the eye of another Prince even thought she was from a family of “commoners” that were really self-made millionaires but more importantly she was English. Genevieve was most definitely not either of those things which were the huge obstacles standing between Harry and her when their relationship had unexpectedly turned serious.

Harry was everything that she would ever dream of in a man. He had a witty and quick sense of humor that could make even the most serious of person laugh in abandonment. He put everyone around him at ease and knew just the right thing to say to make the most horrible day suddenly be the best. Harry could charm his way into any place or out of any problem. He had the body of a God and certainly knew what to do with it. Every touch and look made a woman feel like she was the center of his world. But it was much more than that. Genevieve had seen that beneath all his teasing and charisma there was a man that loved his family and cared deeply for his country. She had seen him drop everything in a heartbeat to be with his brother when William needed his help or he would hold Genevieve for hours when she wasn’t feeling well. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for those that he cared for and she loved that about him.

Genevieve loved him -- period.

It wasn’t a recent development but it was a recent admittance. She had realized this she had wanted more out of Harry. Suddenly Genevieve wanted to commit to him and hated when she saw him with other woman. It hurt the most that he didn’t want the press to see them together hence why she wasn’t his date for the royal wedding. She refused to think about the casual way he had brushed her away when he had informed her she wasn’t coming with him and the ensuing argument. The insults he had thrown at her still echoed in her head and she couldn’t help the tear that escaped her eye. Genevieve angrily brushed it aside and stood abruptly, getting an irritated meow from Mercutio.

She hating the puddle of pity she had been drowning herself in for the last few days. Genevieve was a strong woman that did not need a man! If Harry didn’t want her than it was his loss, he’d had his chance and blown it. That man was not about to ruin the rest of her life, she could move past this. To prove it to herself she entered the living room and put the TV on.
There was no need to flip the channel as every one of them was broadcasting the royal wedding. At the moment the reporters were recapping the ceremony as the audience waited for the newlyweds to appear on the balcony. Genevieve couldn’t help the acceleration of her heart rate as Harry was shown waking into Westminster Abbey with his brother earlier that day. He looked so handsome and not at all effected by their argument and separation as he grinned good-naturedly. Damn him! She thought.I am a total wreck while—no, no! I am fine and strong and I can do this! She closed her eyes to regain her composure but when she opened them again it was to find the smiling face of Harry’s ex-girlfriend on the screen. Genevieve swore and stood in outrage. Harry hated her yet she had still been present at the wedding!

“How could he invite her and not me?” she yelled seriously having the urge to hurdle her TV out the window. Of course that was illogical as it had cost her quite a lot of her spare and hard earned money. Plus with mobs of people outside it would most likely end up hitting someone on the head and she would have to deal with a lawsuit on top of everything else. “Do you believe this?” Genevieve was talking to her cat and it seemed to understand her quite well because from his position on her arm chair he meowed and stared at her with his green eyes. “I am actually having a conversation with my cat,” she shook her head and ran her fingers through her wild and uncombed strawberry blond hair. “I am going to turn into a cat lady when I am old just like…” She didn’t want to dwell on who had said this so snapped her mouth shut and sat back down. Genevieve was starting to regret her decision to be the strong woman she knew she wasn’t where Harry was concerned and was about to shut the TV off when the royal couple appeared. Kate looked amazing and full of happiness on the arm of her new husband, Genevieve envied her joy since where love was concerned she seemed destined for it to always end with her as the injured party left behind.

Even if the new Duke and Duchess of Cambridge were the center of attention her eyes were instantly drawn to the handsome red headed man to the left of her screen that exuded a magnetizing presence that she couldn’t resist. It had been like this for Genevieve since day one, he had somehow captured her gaze and held it as she fought it every step of the way. Seeing him, even on a screen, after so many days apart made her feel like she was home again. She hungrily soaked in the sight of his sinfully broad shoulders in that sexy uniform which made him look like a Prince straight out of any fairy tale. The medals and cords on the dark uniform proudly displayed Harry’s achievements and Genevieve knew they meant the world to him. His striking red hair had that messy yet neat look about it that she adored and she remembered the many times she had run her hands through them, always marveling at the color. Genevieve had never known that red hair could be so sexy. I am independent and happy, she repeated to herself. Harry’s face was slightly rosy which always happened to him because of his complexion but it was strangely appealing. Those magnificent, hypnotizing blue/green eyes sparkled in humor as he made the lovely woman
next to him bite back a laugh.

The camera cut away from Harry and returned to Kate and William allowing Genevieve to remind herself that she didn’t need a certain man nicknamed “The Spare” which lasted about ten seconds. When Harry reappeared there was the ever present smirk on his face that made every woman wonder what was going on in that devious head of his yet not care at the same time because they were too busy staring at his lips and knowing they were made for earthshattering kisses. Harry looked relaxed and thrilled to be where he was as he looked over at the woman next to him yet again and rub the back of his neck.

Genevieve froze and her stomach dropped as the realization that is was over between them hit her full force. In her heart she had already half forgiven Harry because she knew that for all his faults he was a good man caught between obligation and her.

But all that didn’t matter.

Genevieve remembered the first time Harry had rubbed the back of his head in the manner that he had just done a second ago, it was the day they had met. As they had drawn closer together she had realized that it was a tell of his for when he wanted something—or someone.

Harry wanted someone and it wasn’t Genevieve.

He wanted Pippa Middleton.