To Wed a Princess

Wednesday 21st May 2014

“Honestly, El, you're going to love him!” Charlotte insisted for the hundredth time that day.

“Hmm,” Eloise gave a non-commital hum, adjusting the brim of her hat to shield her eyes from the sun “And does this Mr Haver own a watch?”

“Haner,” Charlotte corrected “He isn't usually late, I don't know what's keeping him.”

“He isn't usually late,” Eloise repeated “You've known the man how long? How do you know what he usually is and usually isn't? In any case, I have to leave in half an hour.”

“I told you,” her friend waved a hand “I met him last month at some charity event – he's very handsome...In a different way, but still. Who says you have to leave in half an hour? This is your family's event! You don't have to do anything.”

“We enter at four and leave at six – it's the way things are done,” she stated simply “And will you please stop answering my questions with responses which will only give me more questions! Does your fiancé know you find this 'attractively different' man so, well, attractive?”

She gave the brunette a very light, playful hit on the arm to take away some of the harshness of her exclamation.

“Not for me, silly, for you! He's the complete opposite of the boys I usually try to introduce you to.”

Almost instantly Eloise felt her smile become forced. So that's what this was about.

“You usually introduce me to tall, strong and handsome....So what is Mr Haner? Short, fat and ugly?” she tried to lighten her own mood, sipping at her champagne.

“Hmm, I'm not sure – does that look like short, fat and ugly to you?”

Without moving her head, Eloise glanced in the direction which Charlotte had nodded and immediately had to mask her shock. Mr Haner was certainly not short, fat and ugly. Nor was he a boy. He was watching them both with an expresssion she couldn't quite comprehend, sipping at a cup of tea which looked comically quaint in his tattooed hands.

“What is he doing?” Eloise was proud of the indifference in her voice.

“Waiting for you to approach him. You are meant to be circulating.”

Eloise smirked. He had kept her waiting and was now expecting for her to go running to him, judging by the look on his face. She turned her smirk into a brilliant smile, turned on her heel and made her way towards the Prime Minister and his wife, who were standing a few feet away.

“Eloise!” she ignored the indignant hiss that came from behind her and continued towards the couple.

After twenty minutes of mingling with anybody and everybody and with only a few minutes to spare before the National Anthem would sound and her family would leave the gardens, Mr Haner's face had lost a good portion of it's arrogance and Charlotte looked positively exasperated. Deciding that her fun was over, Eloise slowly began to stroll over to Mr Haner, who was standing alone, facing in the opposite direction.

She gave a light cough from behind him, causing him to jump slightly before spinning around. His expression flickered from irritated to charming in less than half a second, but not fast enough so that she did not catch it.

“How do you do, Mr Haner,” she smiled, adjusting the brim of her hat so she could look up at him properly “I'm afraid we haven't met.”

“How do you do, Your Royal Highness,” he bowed at the neck before taking the hand she offered him and, as Eloise had half expected, kissed it with a charming smile.

“You're American?” she asked once he had released her hand, struggling not to quirk an eyebrow at the letters MARL inked on his knuckles “How are you finding the United Kingdom, Mr Haner?”

“Please, Ma'am, call me Brian,” he spoke with a degree of ease and confidence that she wasn't used to at these parties – usually people were falling over themselves from the moment she greeted them “I like it, it's very different from California, though.”

“I'm very glad,” she nodded, glancing at her PA who signalled that she didn't have long left before the national anthem would begin to play and her family would exit the garden “And how long are you here?”

“The foreseeable future, Ma'am,” the corners of his mouth twitched upward as if at some inside joke that she wasn't aware of.

“Oh, well hopefully we shall be seeing a lot more of you then!” she smiled sweetly and his face lit up until she continued “Charlotte is so very fond of you, you see...”

She observed his expression carefully to see if he believed her, keeping the deliberately oblivious smile on her face as she watched him expectantly for a response. His pleased expression faltered for a moment before he smiled. She wasn't sure if he was unhappy at the fact that she hadn't yet given him permission to use her name even though he'd asked her to use his, or the fact that she expressed any kind of desire to see him with Charlotte instead of herself. This desire wasn't genuine, of course, but it was a simple way of showing she had little interest in him without being too obvious or rude.

“I'm glad, I haven't really known her long but she reminds me of my sister,” he said simply.

“That's lovely – I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear it. What do you intend to do whilst you're here in London?” she changed the subject to something less personal, slightly annoyed that her suggestion had been brushed off so easily.

“I have some tickets to go see The Nutcracker ballet on Tuesday, actually,” he hinted.

Eloise repressed an exasperated laugh – she'd named that as her favourite ballet in her most recent interview. Was he really going to be so obvious? He was hardly the type for ballet. She had to admit, he was a great deal more subtle than most, but still not subtle enough.

“Hmm, not Tchaikovsky's best ballet, I personally prefer Swan Lake,” she commented lightly before he could say any more “However I'm sure you'll enjoy it more than I did. At least I truly hope you do.”

She glanced once more towards her PA who signalled it was time she began make her way back to the Palace.

“It seems it's time for me to leave,” she gave her best apologetic smile, but before she could continue he spoke.

“I could walk back with you, if you don't mind?”

“Of course not,” she lied through her teeth as she turned around and began to make her way towards the front of the gardens, with him falling in step beside her.

For a second it looked as though he was going to offer her his arm, but he seemed to remember that it was no longer the Victorian era and didn't. Doing her best not to let her sour mood show, she focused on keeping her expression cheerful as he spoke to her. After all, it wasn't his fault that Charlotte tried to push every half decent man in England her way. She felt no obligation to like him, but politeness was something she had mastered.

“So, uh, what is it you do, Ma'am?” he asked her conversationally.

She glanced up at him as they walked “As a Princess, I'm a patron of numerous charities, I attend garden parties such as these and other various events, I give interviews, I meet people who have achieved certain things and I travel whilst doing much of this.”

“I meant as hobbies,” was his response “Not that any of that isn't great.”

“Oh,” she frowned “Well, I play a few instruments, I read and I travel. What is it that you do?”

“I play guitar, I drink and I smoke,” he smirked down at her “What do you play, Ma'am?”

She tried to surpress her surprise at his response and once again found herself realising just how different he was to the boys Charlotte usually tried to send her way.

“That's lovely,” she could barely keep the sarcasm from her tone “I play piano and violin. I have ever since I was a child.”

Practically breathing a sigh of relief when they reached the front of the gardens, she turned to him.

“It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mr Haner,” she smiled, reverting to his surname as she offered him her hand to shake again “I do hope you enjoy your time in the United Kingdom.”

“Oh, I will,” the infuriating smirk never leaving his face, he thankfully chose to shake her hand this time instead of kissing it, before letting go “It was an honour to meet you.”

With that she broke away from the crowd and made her way towards her grandparents and brother, Harry. It was then that the National Anthem began to play and they exited the gardens, giving a few final smiles towards their guests as Eloise pointedly ignored the amused gaze of a certain American.

It was only when she was in her own apartments in the private part of the palace, alone, that she allowed any of her annoyance to show. She had no idea why Charlotte was so obsessed with throwing men at her. Whether it was because she was finished planning her own wedding and now wanted to plan somebody else's or that she missed the Royal Wedding fever that swept the country a few years prior, Eloise didn't know and nor did she care. She didn't like relationships. She had no problem with other people being in them, but she was quite happy being single. However, this wasn't due to the usual reasons that most people had – being able to sleep around and flirt with whoever, whenever.

Eloise liked being alone. She hated sharing a bed with anybody – in the perfectly innocent sense –, she despised social obligations when it came to constantly maintaining friendships and she loathed the idea of anybody having such an intense impact on her life as she knew a boyfriend or, God forbid, a husband would. She felt sick even imagining the media frenzy which would occur if anybody believed her to be in a serious relationship. Eloise adored being able to fly off to a foreign country on a whim and stay there either until she tired of the place or duty called her back, and the idea of having to run it by another person first (other than in terms of security and other business) irked her. Shaking her head, she slipped out of her heels and picked them up with a sigh. Either she'd have harsh words with Charlotte to ensure that no potential “suitors” would be invited to the next garden party, or she simply wouldn't attend. She wasn't obligated to be there for all of them, after all – and there were only three a year.

She allowed her mind to trail back to Mr Brian Haner as she entered her wardrobe and stashed her shoes away before taking off her hat. He'd been bold, but at least he'd been confident in his boldness, she'd give him that. Others had stumbled over their words whilst lavishing her with compliments and gifts, which quickly went from endearing to annoying, and even worse there were some who were so slimy that all they did was talk about themselves and their achievements whilst ogling whatever favourite body part of hers' they had chosen at that particular moment.

No, Mr Haner was quite different. He'd been quietly confident, perhaps edging towards arrogant at the appearance of that smirk, but he'd talked to her like she was any other person – with the exception of the required pleasantries – and his efforts had only turned clumsy with the mention of the ballet. She rolled her eyes at that, putting away her hat as she did. Did he really expect her to believe him to be the type who enjoyed ballet? He had confirmed her suspicions that he wasn't the second he told her his “hobbies”. Charlotte had been right about one thing, though – he was handsome and incredibly so. His eyes had seemed to bore into her, and his dark dishevelled hair, although odd looking on contrast to the suit he wore, suited him perfectly. Even the tattoos added an extra level of interest to him and she briefly wondered how many the suit he wore hid. She allowed herself to ponder over it (and him) a little more whilst she shimmied out of her dress and stockings, opting to change into a pair of jeans, slippers and one of her comfiest jumpers seeing as she had no more plans for the rest of the day other than to spend time with her family.

“No,” she said to herself ruefully, promising herself she would forget all about the topic and the man “I doubt I shall ever see Mr Haner again if I have anything to do with it.”