Royally Schooled Read online

  No, not a letter … a bill.

  I sighed as I looked at the costs. I really had hoped I’d get this job so that these bills would stop piling up. It was so damn overwhelming.

  It looked as if I was going to be overwhelmed for the foreseeable future.

  Chapter 2

  Edward

  “You are such a giant asshole!”

  I heard the high heel shoe coming toward me before I saw it. Even though it was coming from behind me, I ducked. I was expecting it.

  “An absolute dog! Do you not have any self-respect?”

  I turned around and smiled. “Some, yeah.”

  “Get the hell out of here!” she snapped at me.

  “Cecilia, I don’t know why you’re overreacting. I never said that we were together.”

  “You never said it? Six months of my life, Edward. Six months! Of course I thought we were exclusive.”

  “Well, you thought wrong. We were just dating. It’s not like I ever said I loved you or anything.”

  “It was implied!” she yelled out again.

  “By who?” I asked on a chuckle.

  “Ugh!” She threw her other shoe at me. “Get out of here before I call your mum and tell her what a cad you are!”

  “Gladly,” I muttered. I didn’t want her to dig any further into her shoe collection.

  Besides, I had somewhere to be. I was already running late for a series of interviews I had to assist Ms. Mitchell with. I shouldn’t have spent so much time at Cecilia’s this morning, but I didn’t expect that I was going to have to explain to her that we weren’t actually together.

  She was livid, but honestly, I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong. We weren’t an official anything. A fling. We had casual fun, as I had with all the ladies I courted, and were nothing more. Frankly, I never would have made things official with her. Not that I had the intention of making things official with anyone.

  I liked to date around. It suited my lifestyle more. Whenever felt things were getting a little too serious with a woman, I took the time to bow out.

  I hoped Ms. Mitchell wouldn’t be too mad about the fact that I was late. She was head of domestic work for my family, and I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to tattle to my mother regarding my bad behavior.

  Not that I cared too much about that, but I had enough trouble from my mother as it was. She was constantly urging me to be more responsible. She insisted I needed to stop partying and take my responsibilities to the crown more seriously. I would eventually inherit the throne after all.

  Hard to imagine, me as King. I couldn’t commit to a relationship, never mind being head of the royal family. But I was the oldest. I always knew that day would come.

  That was probably the reason why I was so steadfast about partying and shirking my responsibilities. One day, my life would be consumed of only my responsibilities to the crown and the people of my country. There would be no way I could decide to screw off and fly to the Bahamas with some friends for a few weeks. I wouldn’t have the freedom to do as I wished. I needed to get all that out of my system now.

  I’d tried to explain that to my mother many times over, but she didn’t seem concerned. She reminded me that the country needed to see me as someone trustworthy, amenable. She believed I was ruining my reputation.

  Who cared about my reputation? I was inheriting the throne regardless. It wasn’t as if they needed to vote me in. Who cared if the people liked me?

  I had my driver drop me off outside of the hotel where we were conducting interviews. I was looking down at my watch and trying to evaluate how late I was when I felt hot liquid pour down my suit.

  It took a second to process, and, admittedly, I was pretty damn angry at whoever spilled something on me. I looked up quickly and found a small form stumbling backward. I reacted in an instant and latched out to stabilize her. She found her footing and twisted toward me, her mouth agape in a shock of horror. I assessed the blue-eyed beauty standing in front of me and calmed down considerably.

  She was gorgeous, and I couldn’t deny I had a weak spot for gorgeous women.

  “Oh no. Oh my gosh,” she muttered to herself. “I’m so, so sorry!”

  Her voice was just about as cute as she was. She wasn’t British, that much was clear. She had a very pronounced American accent. The only thing that made me more forgiving than gorgeous women were gorgeous American women.

  I expected that once she took in my face, she’d realize who I was, and her apologies would become even greater. Not every day that you spilled coffee all over a prince after all.

  Even as she stared into my eyes, she didn’t seem to notice who I was.

  “It’s no problem at all, accidents happen,” I told her with a smile.

  She was quiet for a moment, and I thought maybe she was beginning to process who I was. Which was a bit of a bummer for me since it wasn’t often I got to interact with people who didn’t realize they were speaking to British royalty.

  “Here, let me get the door for you,” I told her before she had a chance make introductions.

  “Thank you. I’m so sorry about the coffee. Is there anything I can do? Pay for your shirt, maybe?” she asked.

  Pay for my shirt? Huh. Maybe she hadn’t realized who I was. I could certainly purchase another bloody shirt.

  “Nothing a good dry cleaning won’t fix,” I reassured her.

  “Well, again, I’m truly sorry,” she said as she stepped in front of me as I held the door.

  “It’s no problem at all. Have a wonderful day, Miss.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was say my goodbyes. This woman had intrigued me. I wished I could speak to her longer, but I was already running too late.

  She smiled. “You too.”

  I rushed past her into the conference room where Ms. Mitchell was waiting for me. She looked at me disapprovingly.

  “You almost didn’t make it, Prince Edward,” she told me.

  “Just a hectic morning, Ms. Mitchell. But despite what you’d like to believe, I do attempt to uphold the few responsibilities Mother has assigned to me.”

  She didn’t seem convinced that was true, but she didn’t argue it. Then she noticed the dark liquid that had permeated my shirt.

  “Edward, really? You couldn’t at least show up in a clean shirt?” she asked.

  “This happened right outside. Some young, distracted woman spilled her coffee all over me. It was unavoidable.”

  “Very well. You know there will be some people that leave this interview, and the first thing they’ll do is report back to some atrocious gossip magazine, who will have an entire article tomorrow about how disheveled you looked, speculating on the events of the night prior.”

  “So, let them speculate,” I said. “It’s nothing more than that.”

  “Unless, of course, you truly were getting into some debauchery the night prior,” she accused.

  “I wasn’t,” I assured her.

  Even though I completely was.

  “Are you ready to call in the first interviewee?” she asked.

  “Fire away.” I smiled as I took my seat.

  The first few interviews were cut and dry. Candidates with all the qualifications of which Mother desired—well-educated, punctual, uptight, and boorish. I’d have fallen asleep by now if Ms. Mitchell hadn’t been kicking me under the table to keep me awake. As the last candidate left the room, the concierge brought in mugs of tea while Ms. Mitchell left the table.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned around slightly to look at it, wondering if I had any messages from Cecilia. I didn’t want Ms. Mitchell coming back and being able to see my phone, so I shifted a bit to hide.

  There were no messages, to my relief. Hopefully we could move forward from this situation amicably.

  I heard the chair scrape against the floor and felt movement beside me, so I put my phone in my pocket and turned my attention toward the next interview. I started ahead for a moment, stunned. Before me with her legs
crossed at the ankles, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, was the woman who spilled coffee on me this morning.

  I had been dreading these interviews, but, hey, if this gave me the opportunity to talk to her, I could handle it.

  Ms. Mitchell started off right away by asking her about the royal family. Which should have been interesting because based on the fact that she still hadn’t seemed to recognize me, I would guess she knew very little about the royal family.

  She lied, tried to pretend that she did. Ms. Mitchell tried to quiz her on what grade my little sister Abigail was in. She failed miserably.

  It had become pretty clear, not just to me but to Ms. Mitchell as well, that not only did this Maggie girl know nothing about the royal family, but she wasn’t even aware that she was going to potentially be hired by the royal family.

  “My dear, you do know this is a position to tutor the children of the royal family, don’t you?”

  Her jaw dropped. “No… Uh, no. I wasn’t aware of that.”

  She was flustered, but it only served to make her look even cuter. I wasn’t sure what it was about this woman, I found her absolutely adorable.

  “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. I’m just a very busy person and don’t have the time to keep up on current events. It’s hard enough for me to follow American politics.”

  Ms. Mitchell nodded. “It’s quite alright, I just wanted to make sure you knew. Let’s continue, shall we?”

  Ms. Mitchell proceeded to ask a few dull questions about her qualifications, something I couldn’t have cared less about. Not that I’d say it aloud, but this entire interview process seemed so stupid to me. We didn’t need to hold such extensive interviews for just a tutor. My brother and sister may have been royalty, but that didn’t mean they needed this much attention over their damn education—not at their ages. Education was important, but they were still children. Royal children at that.

  I had other questions I was interested in asking her, though they had nothing to do with her qualifications.

  “ Why did you decide to stay in London?” She’s already explained she’d came to London for school, but I was interested in what—or rather who if there was someone—had kept her here, so far away from home. “Do you simply prefer London? Or perhaps you met someone?”

  I saw no reason not to burst out and ask. I was curious… Was she single? This seemed like as good a time as any to find out.

  Her face grew red from the question, once again endearing her to me.

  “I don’t think that’s an appropriate question,” Ms. Mitchell scolded me, making her disapproval quite obvious.

  “Right, of course.” I nodded, though I had no intention of stopping my line of questioning. “Next question, then… Do you have any children of your own?”

  “Edward!” Ms. Mitchell yelled at me.

  I grinned at her.

  “What? That seemed like a pertinent question to me. We’re trying to assess how she is with children, correct?”

  “We don’t need to know about her family situation to assess that,” Ms. Mitchell told me.

  “Um, no, that’s alright.” She surprised me by speaking up. “I don’t have children, though I hope to one day. I just haven’t met the right person.”

  “Interesting,” I answered, being quite obvious about my interest in her.

  Ms. Mitchell had had enough of me. She kicked me under the table again, this time right in the shin. I couldn’t deny it hurt. For an older woman, she had a powerful leg.

  I looked over at her, and she continued to stare me down, willing me to behave.

  It worked. As much as I’d have liked to ignore her, I couldn’t deny she had some authority over me. I would behave in the interview from there on out.

  I allowed Ms. Mitchell to do the rest of the talking. I had no questions about Maggie’s qualifications anyway. I did, however, hope Ms. Mitchell would continue to question her at length. As professional as always, she questioned Maggie only on her education and experiences in education and working with children. The luster of the moment faded even further from my grasp when the interview ended, I found myself quite disappointed. I didn’t want Maggie to leave. There was still so much about this lovely woman that had yet to learn.

  “Well, thank you so much for seeing me. I appreciate you two taking the time on behalf of the royal family.” She extended a hand to Ms. Mitchell and then to me.

  It was another mistake on her part, of course. I wasn’t here on behalf of the royal family—I was the royal family. She’d likely be embarrassed all over again to discover that she had been talking to the Prince of England this entire time. Even more so that she had spilled coffee on me.

  For a moment, I considered telling her that fact because of how cute she looked every time she was caught off guard. Ultimately I decided against it. I was kind of hoping she would get the job, and I didn’t want to mess with her chances.

  “She’s the one,” I told Ms. Mitchell as soon as Maggie had left.

  “The one for what? For you to pursue? I think all women are ‘the one’ in that regard, Edward,” she said, frustrated. “Behave yourself from now on. I don’t want to see you acting up around any other attractive young women.”

  “No, I obviously mean the one for the job,” I told her.

  Ms. Mitchell eyed me. “She handled your ridiculousness quite well; I’ll give her that. Perhaps it is an indication that she’d be able to handle the children.”

  Good, so she was at least in the running. I would have very much liked to see her again, not that I was going to tell Ms. Mitchell that. It would have been a guarantee for her not to get hired.

  “I mean, do we really need to sit through the rest of the interviews at this point?” I asked.

  “Of course, we do. We made these appointments, and we will finish them. It would be entirely rude to dismiss the rest of the applicants. Besides, there may very well be someone more qualified for the job here.”

  That was what I was afraid of. I didn’t want to find someone more qualified for the job. I wanted Maggie to get the job.

  “You know, she may not have known much about the royal family, but you can consider that a benefit, don’t you think?”

  She seemed to consider this briefly before asking, “How so?”

  “Well, a lot of these people have applied strictly because it’s a job with the royal family. Like you said earlier, they won’t hesitate to report to tabloids. You can be sure that Maggie never came into this interview with any intention to gossip about the family. She clearly has no ulterior motives.”

  “Hmm, yes, I do suppose that’s true,” Ms. Mitchell acknowledged.

  I could see it on her face—I’d made a good point and had got Maggie one step closer to the job.

  Chapter 3

  Maggie

  I looked up at the absolutely massive castle in front of me as I tried to process that this was where I’d now be working.

  Nobody had been more surprised than me to hear that I’d gotten the job.

  I was nearly in a state of shock when I’d answered the call. I was sitting down to dinner with my father, and I actually squealed in excitement when I hung up. I felt bad because I was sure I had startled him badly, but after I told him the reason for my excitement, he was jumping for joy with me.

  Not literally, of course. Poor man couldn’t jump if his life depended on it right now. Internally, we were both jumping. That medical bill I’d received a few days prior felt less daunting with this new position.

  The caregiver would now be with my father during all my work hours. It was a few hours more than she was used to coming, but I could supplement that now. All I had to do was manage to keep this job, and I’d have less stress to deal with.

  Though, that might be easier said than done. It was still beyond me how I’d even gotten the job in the first place. I most definitely couldn’t have been the most qualified person to apply. And the way I had truly messed up answering about the details of
the royal family… That was a disaster.

  I’d done my research since then, of course. Abigail was ten-years-old, and Andrew was twelve. They apparently had an older brother, Edward, but I didn’t think it was relevant because I most definitely wouldn’t be tutoring him. He was in his twenties. I wondered a bit about the large age gap, but it wasn’t as if I’d ever get the chance to ask anyone about it.

  The doorman waiting outside let me in with a smile.

  “You must be Maggie,” he said. “May I see some ID?”

  This threw me off at first, but of course they would need to see my ID. Couldn’t let any old person just waltz into the castle, could you?

  Or, wait … was it called a castle? A palace? I was really out of my element with this whole royal thing. Apparently, I didn’t do as much research as I initially thought.

  I walked inside and was greeted by Ms. Mitchell.

  “Maggie, hello. Come along and follow me.” She was polite but always maintained her somewhat stern demeanor. I immediately felt like she was an authority figure. I could say that for sure.

  “You are always going to be working with the children in this room. You are to be here and prepared to begin instructions before they finish with their classes for the day, which is at one pm. They have a very tight schedule but will have two hours with you each day. You will go over all the work they did with their teachers and then subsequently take them to their horseback riding lessons at the stables. During those lessons is when you will take your break. You will eat your dinner with the rest of the staff in the dining quarters. After that, you will meet directly with their teachers to discuss their work.”

  “Wait, I meet with their teachers … every day? Here?” I asked. “Aren’t they, like, busy with other students?”

  Ms. Mitchell laughed. “Well, no, of course not. They only work with Prince Andrew and Princess Abigail. They have no other students.”

  I couldn’t help but think how lonely this sounded.

  Many of my best memories were at public school growing up. Although, admittedly, there were plenty of awful memories too, particularly in middle school; but it was where I made all my friends. It was where I was happy to go when I was sick of my parents and sick of being at home.