The Thrill Is Gone

“What’s got you in a tiff? Did they not get the crease on your pants right?” asked Harry, thinking that a bit of light teasing would stop his brother’s fussing, but his teasing earned him a few choice curse words that blared from the car’s speakers. “Oi!” he exclaimed. “Wills, come off it. There’s a lady in the bloody car. Ya can’t curse at me in the company of a lady, that’s just not done! Imagine what Gran would say if I were to tell her.” Harry shot Paulina a little smirk as he made a left turn. “She’d go off on one of her rants, she would, but lucky for you, I don’t very well feel like snitching on you. So go on, tell your brilliant brother what’s wrong.”

“You’re a wanker, that’s what’s wrong.” William spoke into his cell phone.

“What’d I just say about there being a lady in the car?” Harry slowed down as they turned onto the road that led to Ham Polo Club. “Absolutely no respect,” said Harry, quite overdramatically. “And everyone says he’s the better behaved Prince. Aren’t I better behaved, Paulin?”

“You really want me to answer that?” she asked, raising her brow slightly.

“Of course, but not verbally, just give us a nod or a shake of the head. That’ll suffice.” Harry spoke.

“How will I know then?” asked William. “I can’t bloody see over the mobile!”

“You’ll just have to believe whatever I say.” Harry smirked. “And she’s nodded!” he fibbed. “See, I told you that I'm the better behaved one. It’s just this smirk that makes everyone think I'm wicked. I'm not though. I'm a perfectly sweet angel, and Paulin knows that.” He wiggled his brow suggestively at her, and she burst into her laughter, her daisy rose colored lips parting as a booming laugh rushed through them.

“You’re so ridiculous,” she said in between her laughter.

“Am not!” cried Harry. “I was very much serious, thank you very much. And you nodded. I don’t know why you’re laughing if you nodded. You’re just being an arse.” He scrunched his nose at her.

“What happened to not cursing in front of a lady?” asked William, a smile forcing away his displeased frown.

“That only counts for other people.” Harry said. “Anyways, what were you going on about? You were all angry and screaming and not making any sense at all. So what’s got you worked up? Is Wynn alright?” he asked William, inquiring as to the latter’s horse.

“Yes, yes, of course Wynn’s alright. It’s something else . . . you see, well, there was a bit of an accident this morning, nothing to serious to speak of, but given the circumstances it’s quite grave, though not for the person in question.”

“Get on with it!” Harry ordered. “There’s no need to dance around the bloody point with me. You know I hate it when people did that.”

William let out an annoyed sigh. “I was building up to the point.”

“Well I reckon ya built up to it enough.”

“Sometimes you’re such an annoying git,” said William. “But since you’re in such a rush to know the point, the point is that Baron Davenport will no longer be able to participate in the match. Apparently, he slipped in the shower earlier today, and made a mess of his back, which means we might have to cancel the event due to insufficient players.” He took in a deep breath. “As you know the consequences would be disastrous. This match generates quite an impressive sum of money for the family charities, so to find ourselves forced to return the funds would put a massive dent in the budgets for the upcoming year. But then I thought that perhaps we wouldn’t have to cancel. I think that maybe you might –”

“No.”

“But I’ve not even finished asking.” William huffed.

“I know ya didn’t, but I know what you were gonna ask. And my answer is no.” Harry declared, slowing down even more as he pulled into the private parking area reserved for him and William. “This is our first public outing, and I'm not about to leave her. Don’t ya remember how stressful it was when you and Kate went to your first society thing together?”

“Yes.” William said lowly. “But think about the charities. Paulina, would you mind? He’d only be away for a bit, and Lady Fellowes is already in the tent waiting for you, and Kate will be here later, you’ll get to meet her as well. They’ll keep you company.”

“Oi!” exclaimed Harry, turning off the engine. “Don’t put her on the spot!”

“I'm not putting her on the spot. Paulina, you know I’ve no intention of putting you on the spot, right?” asked William.

“Doesn’t matter if ya had the intention,” argued Harry. “That question alone was designed to put her on the spot and now –”

“No one’s put me on the spot!” interjected Paulina, sitting up straight. “And even if he had, I’d be more than capable of making my own decision. Alright?” she asked, and when Harry nodded in understanding, she continued. “Look, I think it’s really sweet that you don’t want to leave me alone, but I . . . I think that your playing polo is way more important than your keeping me company. I mean, this match is really important to your family’s charities, and the people that benefit from them shouldn’t be denied services because of a tight budget that could’ve been avoided.”

“But –” Harry began to protest.

“No buts,” she declared. “You’re going to play polo, and I'm going to stand near the edge of the field and cheer you on.”

“But you’re terrified of horses.” Harry reminded.

“Let me worry about that, you just put on a good match, and,” she unbuckled her seatbelt and moved towards him, placing her lips by his ear, “Tomorrow, I’ll make sure to reward the conquering hero.”

His breathing hitched when her breath struck his ear. “Okay.” He said his voice a higher pitch. “Wills, I’ll be there, just give me time to go get my gear.”

“I’ve already sent Alistair to fetch it.”

“You’ve what?” he asked, his eyes flashing in annoyance. “But I gave him the afternoon off!”

“Did you?” William rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I wasn’t aware of that, um, if ya like I can give him a ring and ask him not to, but I'm sure he’s already got it. You know how quick Alistair is with everything. Ya ask him to do something, and he’s practically already done it.”

Harry groaned in annoyance. “Don’t worry about it. Just don’t make plans before ya ask me, again. It’s annoying.”

“You know I can’t promise that. Something’s bound to pop up that I’ll commit you to in the future.” William replied.

“Hmm, reckon you’re right, but try not to do it when I'm on a bloody date. Alright?” he parked the car. “I just pulled up so I’ll see you in a few. Blimey!”

“What happened?”

“I don’t have a horse. How am I meant to compete without a – wait, you’ve arranged for one, haven’t you?”

“What kind of a Prince would I be if I hadn’t?” William smirked. “Baron Davenport said you could use his, and if you’re not comfortable with his horse, then there’s always the extra that we bring along.”

“Right, well, I’ll see you in a few then.” Harry pressed the off button on the touch screen. “You sure it’s alright?” he asked her, his blue eyes staring intently at her.

“Yeah, of course,” she lied. The truth was that she wanted him at her side. She was being thrust into a different society, and although Lady Fellowes would keep her company, she would’ve much rather preferred to have him with her. “I’ll be fine. Your aunt’s here and she’ll show me around. It’ll be great, really.” She smiled reassuringly. “Henry,” she said his name softly, noting the concern on his face, “Don’t worry about this. If I could hold my own with Senator Kennedy and all those politicians, then I'm pretty sure that a tent filled with socialites won’t be that much of a challenge.”

Harry let out a defeated sigh. “Oh alright, but you don’t have to walk around if you’re not keen to. You can stay in the private tent area that Wills and I have. Like Wills said, Kate’s meant to be here in a bit so if you stayed, you could get to know her. I'm sure she’d love a chat with you, considering you’ll be seeing each other fairly often from now on. But if you prefer, you can go to the main area, I mean, it’s up to you. And I know my aunt’s keen to flaunt you about. She’s already talked you up to a lot of her mates.”

“Seriously?” she asked, trying to keep from seeming too pleased with herself.

Harry nodded. “She’s quite keen on you, and she’s letting everyone know it. Even before we became official, she was speaking highly of you, now she just does it more. I reckon she might like you more than she does me.”

“Of course she does, everyone likes me more than you.” Paulina teased.

“Is that so?” he questioned, a devilish smirk making its way onto his face.

“It is. They only pretend to like you more because I ask them to.” She unbuckled her seatbelt. “Just don’t let them know you know. It’s a lie everyone works really hard to keep up.”

Harry chuckled. “You’re such an arse.”

“But you adore me,” she said in a singsong voice. “So should we head out now or what do we do?”

“We’ll head out.” He unbuckled his seatbelt. “Before we go though, my mate Tom might be here. I'm not sure if he’ll actually attend, since something came up with his mum, but if a ginger with messy hair goes up to you, just know you can trust him and he’ll be friendly. He’s a good bloke, even if my aunt thinks he’s a proper git.”

“Why does she think he’s a git?”

“Because whenever I do something wrong, he’s not far off.” Harry grinned. “But you won’t mind him. You’re just as bad as us, even if that face of yours makes people think otherwise.”

“Don’t be jealous just because I can pull off the innocent look. It’s not my fault you constantly look like you’re scheming.”

“I do not! Oh, alright, maybe I do. I can’t be blamed though. A scheming look is the price I pay for having such a handsome face. Oi!” he exclaimed when she started laughing. “I'll have you know I'm quite the handsome bloke.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t.” She repositioned herself so she could place a delicate kiss on his lips. “You’re the most handsome bloke in the world; well, most handsome after David Tennant, of course.”

“Keep teasing like that and he’ll be off Doctor Who faster than they planned.” Harry stated, nonchalantly. “I’ve connections, you know.”

Her eyes narrowed in displeasure. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Hmm, I think I would. In fact, I know I would.”

“Then you, my dear güerito, are never getting laid again.” She made a light humph sound, and then smiled when he mumbled something along the lines of Tennant was safe, at least for now.

As she looked ahead at the small white tent that was quite a distance away from the main one, Harry busied himself by grabbing his jacket off the hanger in the back seat, and then exited the car so he could open her door. Despite months of being together, he still opened doors for her, still pulled out chairs. Perhaps another would’ve stopped doing those simple things, they would’ve gotten comfortable enough to forget them as often happens in relationships, but he knew that it was those simple acts that she loved so much, and so he did them.

When she stepped out of the car, she pecked his cheek lovingly, as she always did, and after running a hand along the front of her dress, she linked fingers with him, and walked alongside him into the exclusive area where only the Princes and those whom they personally invited, were able to sit and socialize. There, sipping on a glass of champagne was Lady Fellowes. She was fashionably dressed, and not a hair was out of place. She was engrossed in conversation with William, telling him about how his cousins truly wanted to be there, but how they’d been unfortunately unable to attend. William humored his aunt in the conversation, stating that he had spoken to Laura a few days earlier, and then she’d told him that there was a previous engagement she had to attend with Nick and his family.

That comment opened up the conversation for Laura and Nick’s upcoming wedding, which was scheduled for the spring of 2009. And it was as they discussed the pending nuptials, that Harry and Paulina made their way into the tent. The pair immediately stopped talking, and went to greet the young couple, moving towards the slit on the side of the tent where the prince and his girlfriend had emerged from. William greeted Paulina warmly and she smiled brightly as she curtsied for him. He was tempted to once again ask her not to curtsy, to say that there was no need for such formality, but she’d told him before that whenever in public, she preferred to curtsy. That way the press wouldn’t be able to label her the rude American with absolutely no respect for tradition. They hated her enough without adding that to their growing list of critiques.

With the greetings out of the way, they embarked into a lively conversation that was dominated by Harry and his rosy cheeked girlfriend. Paulina tried to be mindful of how much she spoke, remembering that Lady Fellowes told her that it was best for a lady not to say too much in the presence of gentleman, but she couldn’t help it. Before everyone found out about her relationship, she was able to keep quiet and not get carried away with conversation, because she was afraid that someone might figure out that she was Harry’s girlfriend. But now that the entire world knew about her and Harry, she no longer held that fear. She could speak to him in public without worrying that her words would give her away, that her smile would be to full of affection. Now that everyone knew, she felt at ease about conversing with Harry. Of course, they didn’t talk like they did when they were in private. Their conversation was censored, respectable by all means, but despite the change in conversation, despite them not being overly physical in their admiration for one another, it was obvious to anyone that saw them that they were absolutely besotted with one another.

The conversation flowed smoothly, but it wasn’t long before Harry asked Paulina to follow him over to where his cousin Zara was having a laugh with her boyfriend, Mark. Paulina gladly agreed to go with him, and after excusing themselves from Lady Fellowes and William, and promising that they’d be back soon, they went off in direction of his cousin.

“Oi!” exclaimed Harry when they were only a few feet away. “What are you lot laughing about?”

“That face of yours, obviously,” replied Zara, smirking as she turned around to face him. Her eyes widened in delight when they landed on Paulina. “I was wondering when I’d be meeting you! This one’s been hiding you all for himself.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Phillips.” Paulina went to curtsy, but was stopped by Zara.

“Oh no, there’s no need for that.” Zara reassured. “I'm not a Royal Highness, so you don’t have to curtsy, and you can cut the Miss Phillips. I'm Zara, and it’s lovely to meet you, Paulina. We’ve heard quite a bit about you in these last few days.”

“I hope it’s not been too bad.” Paulina smiled, feeling more at ease.

“Bad enough,” teased Zara. “I'm joking, it’s been fairly well. Harry’s been running around telling everyone how brilliant you –”

“Zar,” hissed Harry, his naturally pink cheeks turning even brighter.

“What?” said Zara, a mischievous smile that mirrored Harry’s, spreading across her cheeks. “Have I said something off? Am I lying?”

“Don’t mind Zara,” Harry told Paulina. “She likes teasing me.”

“It’s my calling, really.” Zara paused and realized that Mark was still standing with his back pressed against the tent. “What are you doing over there, Mark? Get over here. Can’t you see Harry’s about to make proper introductions?”

“You’ve already introduced yourself.” Harry reminded.

“Only because you didn’t go right into the proper introductions,” she said. “Now go on, Your Royal Highness, make a proper thing of it.”

Paulina couldn’t help it, she started laughing. She lifted her hand to her lips to try to muffle it, but the twinkle in her eyes made it perfectly clear to Zara that she was enjoying the teasing.

“I like her,” declared Zara. “That other one never laughed at my jokes. You can’t like someone that doesn’t laugh at your jokes. It just doesn’t work that way. Now go one, introductions, our Prince.”

“You’re getting such a kick out of this.” Harry mumbled.

“I always do. And you should be a bit more polite, I'm having Tsunami brought over for you to mount.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks Zar. This’ll be easier with Tsunami.”

“Of course it will, she’s a brilliant horse.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Introductions then?” he smiled affectionately at Paulina before turning to look at his cousin and her boyfriend. “Paulina this is my cousin, Zara,” he said, “And Zara, this is my girlfriend, Paulina.” He waited for them to shake hands and exchange a kiss on the cheek before continuing. “Paulina this is Zara’s boyfriend, Mark. He’s a rugby player for Gloucester. And Mark, this is my girlfriend, Paulina. She plays rugby with her mates in Oxford.”

“Do you now?” asked Mark as they shook hands.

“Yes, I play inside center, though sometimes I go into fullback mode.”

“We’d be allies on the pitch then, I'm an outside centre.” he said, smiling proudly. “Did you play rugby in America then?”

“No, I played football and American football. When I got here, I heard some of the Rhodes Scholars say they were putting together a team to play locally so I joined in. I thought if I could handle American football, I could do rugby.”

“Was it the same?” he asked.

“Rugby’s loads harder.” Paulina replied. “Not having any pads or a helmet was tough, but it’s a really amazing sport. I don’t have to tell you that, you play professionally, you know just how fun and invigorating it is to be out on the pitch.”

“It’s therapeutic.” Mark said. “And I bet you’re imagining every bloke on that field is one of those pesky paparazzi that are following you around.”

“There’s no shaming in pretending they are.” Zara joined in. “I’d do it do. In fact, I do something similar when I'm out with my horses.”

“I actually haven’t had the chance to get out on the pitch since everyone found out about us. I’ve been in London all this time, so I won’t be able to get a match in until next week.” Paulina explained. “But I guess I’ll be knocking out imagined ones all over the pitch.”

“It’ll make dealing with the real life ones, easier.” Zara said.

“Oi, I don’t reckon you two ought to be telling her to go mad on those lads. She’s bad enough with them as it is. One time, she got into a fistfight.” Harry didn’t want her getting into fights that might be captured by photographers.

“That’s normal though.” Mark argued.

“It is,” agreed Zara. “I once saw Mark get into a brawl with some bloke on the pitch. They had to stop the match and everything. It was quite brilliant, actually.”

“See Henry, I told you it wasn’t a big deal. That stuff just happens.” Paulina smiled at him.

Zara’s eyes widened when she heard Paulina call him Henry. She looked over at Henry with a massive grin on her face. No one called Harry, Henry, absolutely no one. He always told everyone to call him Harry or whatever the hell they wanted to refer to him as, but Henry was off the table. She was going to comment on it, but Harry was already shaking at her, and preferring to tease him in private about it, she let it slide.

Harry and Paulina chatted with them a bit longer, but when Alistair arrived with Harry’s polo uniform and equipment, they both excused themselves from Zara and Mark. Harry was to get ready for the match and Paulina was to begin making her rounds with Lady Fellowes, though she had to wait until Harry was dressed and ready to mount to give him a quick kiss for good luck. When the kiss was given, she followed Lady Fellowes into the main tent, where as soon as she stepped foot inside, she became the center of attention. The individuals didn’t even try to pretend that they weren’t looking at her. They were shameless, staring at her as if they were watching someone on the teli that was unable to see them. Paulina would’ve preferred it to be that way. She would’ve loved if she was on television, unable to see their critical looks and crinkled noses. The older people, the one’s that were intimately acquainted with Lady Fellowes were the only ones that looked at her with curiosity, instead of contempt. Lady Fellowes was a fashionable woman, a favorite among the royal Princes, and if she had said that the young American was a delightful young woman, then the American would indeed be thought delightful. They were willing to be pleased by her, but the same could not be said of the young women in the company.

Paulina had known that the young women at the event wouldn’t be pleased to see her. When they’d purchased their tickets, no one knew that Prince Harry was in a relationship with an American Rhodes Scholar. They’d thought him single, and as such, they’d purchased tickets to the charity event in hopes of mingling with Harry beneath the tent and striking his fancy, but now that they knew he had a girlfriend, they were less than pleased. They had invested in new outfits, had their hair professionally done. The socialites that attended those events went with the hope of catching his eye, and now that they knew they couldn’t, they were going to be watchful of the plump American that the Prince was seeing. They’d see what it was about her that charmed his heart, and they’d internalize it, because Harry belonged with one of them, not with her. She wasn’t like them. She wasn’t even British! How could he be with someone who was American? It wasn’t right, not in the least. And they were determined to learn from the American, they were determined to criticize and offer her cold civility, because she didn’t belong there.

And Paulina knew that. She didn’t come from money. She didn’t come from a long line of nobility. She didn’t like polo. She didn’t care for getting ridiculously dressed up so early in the morning, and she most definitely didn’t want to be in the company of people that were most likely thinking the exact same things that gossip commentators said on their shows and blogs, but she had to be there. She had to put a brave smile on her face, be as amiable as she could, and charm those that were open to being charmed so that she could give herself a good name and make a favorable impression on people. She’d been practicing introductions, the polite smiles that Lady Fellowes had taught her and the talking points that the older woman had told her to memorize. And when it came time for her to mingle with the friends and acquaintances of Lady Fellowes’, Paulina was all smiles and politeness. She greeted each individual with warmth and respect, listened intently as they spoke to her, and was very present in the conversation. Not once did her attention drift off somewhere else, she focused on each person she spoke to, and that was something that was much appreciated. The older women with which she met thought her a very well mannered American and exceedingly pretty.

She was pleased with the way things went with the women, but feeling the need to have a moment alone, she excused herself from present company and went off in search of the restroom The facilities weren’t far off, they were connected to the main building from which the tent sprang, and she calmly made her way inside, not wanting to seem in to much of a hurry. The restrooms were practically deserted, there was only a lone attendant waiting to be of service to any woman that stepped inside.

“Good afternoon Ma’am,” spoke Paulina as she stepped inside, smiling gently as she made her way to the stalls.

The attendant was startled. The people didn’t speak to her. They pretended like she was invisible and only acknowledged her to leave a customary tip. So to be spoken to was quite the shock, but the middle aged woman with graying hair quickly regained her composure, and spoke a polite good afternoon in return.

Paulina made her way to the stall furthest from the door, and locked it behind her. She just needed a few minutes to breathe easy, without worrying as to whether or not she was offending someone. The event was going better than she’d anticipated. She’d thought that she was going to stumble over her words, make a fool of herself, but in the last forty minutes she’d managed to be poised and charming. Now she just had to make it through the match and the short reception that would take place after it. And once that was out of the way, she’d be able to get out of the damn Spanx she was wearing, and slip into something more comfortable.

As she stood with her back resting against the wall, a group of three young women walked into the restroom. They were the daughters of Barons and Viscounts, members of nobility that had been hoping to have a chance with Harry. And as they touched up their make up, they spoke of the whale that His Royal Highness was dating.

“Have you seen what she’s wearing?” spoke the brunette named Sylvia.

“How could we not?” replied Miranda, a dark blonde in a fitted white dress. “Those shoes of hers are absolutely horrid. Honestly, who wears flats? She’s not a nine year old. She’s a grown woman and if she’s going to be in this company, she better dress the part.”

“Speaking of dresses, did you notice the color?” asked the light haired brunette known as Georgia.

“I tried not to.” Sylvia fixed her coral lipstick. “But it’s impossible to not notice so much blue.”

“Someone should’ve told her it wouldn’t do her any favors,” commented Georgia. “She’s already a whale to begin with, but then you add in that blue and she looks like she’s yearning for the ocean.”

“Pinches putas (fucking whores),” mumbled Paulina under hear breath, fuming from her place in the stall.

She was tempted to storm out of the stall and tell them off, but she knew that if she did that, she’d end up cursing exclusively in Spanish and none of them would understand a word she said. And she wanted them to know they were cunts, to know that they couldn’t go around talking about people like that. Yes, Paulina had heard people in the media say that the Prince Harry of Wales had taken his title to seriously and got himself a whale, but she’d never heard anyone say that to her in person. And as she heard the three of them cackle at the joke, she wanted nothing more than to take a swing at them. She went into defensive mode, and had it not been for a thought coming to her, she would’ve ended up giving them each a black eye. But thankfully for her, she remembered Elizabeth Bennett in the latest Pride and Prejudice adaptation. With her words she had smacked Darcy harder than any hand could ever do, and so would Paulina. She just had to wait until the right moment.

A few minutes after the women left the restroom, Paulina made her exit. She composed herself in the mirror, fixing her make up to make sure she looked her absolute best, and after handing a five note quid to the attendant, as well as a few words of thanks, she stepped outside. She stood up straight, shoulders back with her head held high. She listened for the voices of the young women that had been insulting her, and when she saw them by the champagne, she made her way over to them. She asked one of the attendants to pour her a glass, and when she did, Georgia spoke to her.

“Excuse me,” said Georgia in a voice of faux warmth. “I don’t mean to be a bother, but aren’t you, Miss Balcázar? Harry’s girlfriend, I mean, I'm not sure if that’s your name or not.”

“I am.” Paulina confirmed, forcing a smile onto her face. “And that is my name.”

“It’s lovely to meet you. I'm Georgia; these are my friends Sylvia and Miranda.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” spoke Paulina as she shook their hands. “Are you having an enjoyable time at the event?”

“Yes, of course.” Miranda smiled. “These charity events are always loads of fun.”

“And you?” asked Sylvia, her hazel eyes staring intently at Paulina. “Are you having a good time?”

“I am.” Paulina nodded. “This is my first official charity event, so it’s exciting, a little nervous but exciting.”

“There’s no need to be nervous.” Sylvia reassured. “You look stunning.”

“Really, you do,” Georgia chimed in. “In fact, we were talking about your dress earlier. It’s fantastic and the color,” when she said color, a little smirk danced across her lips, “Is impeccable.”

“It suits you.” Miranda agreed.

“I'm glad you lot think so. I must admit I had a bit of trouble deciding what color to wear, but then I thought to myself, it’s only suiting that a whale wears blue.”

The color drained from their faces.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to get some water. You know how it is when you yearn for the ocean; always have to have some water around.” She walked away with her head held high and a satisfied smirk on her face. Jane Austen would be proud, very proud indeed.