Thank you for all the reviews. I read and love them all. Thank you to Dawn for your prereading skills and never ending support.
'Marc-Ass' belongs to SassyNoles.
Now, let's see if your theories are correct.
The American Princess
Chapter 32
BPOV
The silence is deafening in my little living room. It feels even smaller with two broad shouldered men occupying it. They are looking to me to say something and vice versa. I open my mouth to speak several times but always close it before anything comes out.
Finally, I can't take it anymore and I break.
"Why the fuck are you here?"
"Well, I couldn't let you have the last word, now could I, Ms. Swan? And I was otherwise occupied when we last saw each other."
"So, you traveled over 4000 miles with a heart condition to do so? Haven't you ever heard of a phone?"
"Would you have answered?"
"Good point."
"I have made several good points since meeting you and all have been accurate."
I roll my eyes. "Here we go."
I settle back into my overstuffed chair as I know how he gets when on one of his tirades.
"How did you find me, anyway." I interrupt him before he even begins.
"Marcus.'
I look over to the aforementioned person before looking back at Carlisle.
"Why? Did you threaten to throw him in the dungeon? That's what I wanted to do with him."
"You know full well we don't have a dungeon. Or moats. Or any animals inclined to make a meal of you." Carlisle groans.
"Bet you wish you did after meeting me… but back to the point I am trying to make, why are you here?"
He doesn't answer and the silence is awkward. I fidget though I try not to.
For the love… I huff out loud.
"I've assigned myself with the responsibility of finding Edward a bride." He says, his tone level.
I stand.
"You're about a month too late with that info. Now, this has been loads of fun, but I need you to leave."
He looks shocked.
"Yes, I'm kicking you, The King of England, out of my humble little rental where I've been living during the shooting of my big bad movie. I have to pack to return home so I can move on with my life."
"Ms. Swan." He interrupts.
I hold out my hand to stop him.
"You aren't sovereign over me and you're not entitled to anything I have." I walk to my door and throw it open. "Don't let it hit you on your ass on the way out."
"Can we agree on one to two films a year? No nudity, of course. Preferably in the UK where I am sovereign? And respectable clothing when you perform your assigned duties. I can't have you out there looking like a cheap Picasso. On your own time, fine. And iff you could curtail your rather colorful language in public as well. No calling Lady Kathryn a whore- though she is rather promiscuous, isn't she? But that's neither here nor there. A princess conducts herself accordingly and with the upmost respect for herself, her husband and her people. You're a little rough around the edges." He blurts out. Yes, the King of England just blurted.
Now, I'm sure I'm the one who looks shocked and sometime during his speech I have sat back down.
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"I'm negotiating with a terrorist, my Dear." Referring to our infamous first meeting.
I just look at him.
"I may have acted rather harshly in my treatment of you. Things simply aren't done this way and I'm a traditionalist by nature as were my ancestors before me. Not that that's a good excuse. But I am the king and I can bend things to my will if I so choose. Bend not break, hence the negotiation."
"Why now? Why not months ago?" I demand to know.
"I didn't know how much you would mean to him. I didn't know that my son would cease to be my son. I didn't know that my wife would look at me with such disgust over my actions though it was much deserved, I'll admit. I didn't know how much joy you had brought into my home, into my kingdom, until you were gone."
"Surely there is a more suitable wife for Edward than me?"
"Of course, there is!" Marcus interjects.
Carlisle shoots him a dirty look.
"I've never lied to Ms. Swan and I won't start now, Carlisle." He turns to me. "You are the furthest thing I imagine when I think of the Princess of Wales. You're confrontational, your mouth needs a bar of soap, your tattoos are off putting and you're not the most graceful creature in the world." He sniffs. "That being said, Edward was much more pleasant to be around while you were there. Do you know he fired me?"
I stifle a laugh. Go, Charming!
"Well obviously it didn't stick, or you wouldn't be here breathing up all my air."
He makes a face which I return.
I turn back to Carlisle.
"I don't know if I even want to be married. It was months out of my life which in hindsight is not a whole lot of time to get to really know someone. There are so many rules and I am fiercely independent. You and I would be at odds constantly. I mean, can you imagine?"
"Yes. I can. I've had a lot of time to think when I was convalescing, and I realized that my son was a better prince because of you. He was what I always knew he could be. For all my manipulations and ultimatums, the key the whole time was you. And I was too damn stubborn to see it. It would be an honor to be at odds with you, my dear."
Suddenly, something occurs to me.
"Did the other ladies decide they didn't want to deal with you, or him? Is that it? Did they decide all the crown jewels and money in the world wasn't worth being forced into an arranged contract with the Sullen Cullens? Is that why you showed up on my doorstep? Lack of options?"
"My dear, there were never any other options. I had already decided about three months in before that disappointing conversation with Edward, that you were it. The papers I handed him contained women that normally would have been considered in this situation. I'm afraid my son failed that test. I wanted him to stand up to me and tell me that he would only consider you. I can only surmise he wanted to spare you the drama or he thought you hated him. Not that I would know. Conversations have been lacking around the house for some time now."
"What does Esme think about all this? Why isn't Edward here if you have decided this?"
"I haven't told them."
"Where do they think you are then?"
"Denmark."
"So, no one knows you're here except Marcus, me and your flight crew?"
"My guards are on your doorstep."
"I'm not going to try to kill you. Marcus, maybe, but not you. No one will miss him."
"I could probably drop him from the plane on our way home." Carlisle muses, his eyes sparkling with humor.
"I'm so glad I can be here for your amusement purposes." Marcus says.
"Me too, so much more fun than what I originally had planned this evening." I shoot back.
"Back to the issue at hand." Carlisle interrupts. "The party is in two days, so we don't have much time."
"Wait, you're referring to the engagement party?"
"Yes, yours and Edwards."
I'm glad I'm sitting down because I suddenly feel very lightheaded.
"This is too much. I can't… why are you doing this to me? Why didn't you tell Edward? He should be involved in a decision like this. What if he doesn't want me? What if he doesn't love me anymore? He should be here."
"He should be but I'm afraid that's my fault."
"It normally is when it comes to us."
"The look on his face when he sees you, when he realizes that you are his bride. That look that I know will be there because I know he loves you and I know he wants you; I want to be partly responsible for it. I'm the one who did this. I know he sent you away and you can be angry about that if you so wish but it was because of me. Because I couldn't see what was right in front of me. It is up to me to make amends and I am here to do so. So, the only thing that really matters in all this is do you still love my son?"
"I suddenly feel like Lisa McDowell in Coming to America. Only in reverse." I mutter.
"What?"
"Nothing. Never mind. Yes, I love your son."
"Enough to marry him?" He asks, hopefully.
"I think I'm gonna throw up." I respond.
"Not the response I was hoping for." He mutters.
"Well, it's not a no." Marcus deadpans.
"I need my dad." I suddenly realize.
Now Carlisle looks nauseous. "I thought you were fiercely independent."
I shoot him a dirty look and he straightens up. "Whatever you need."
"Help me pack and let's fly to Forks."
"Your father has a gun, doesn't he?" Carlisle looks fearful.
"Yup." I confirm then smile for the first time since he arrived.
***TAP***
"Isabella Marie Swan, tell me you are not seriously considering this?"
We are sitting in my father's modest living room after I talk him into putting his rifle away. It took a lot of talking. You would think he would know that killing the King of England might not be the best career choice.
I put my head in my hands and sigh.
"I don't… yeah. I am."
"You love that little stupid ass fucker that much?"
"If you could refrain from name calling, Mr. Swan." Carlisle objects.
"Do you want me to shoot you? You come in here after treating my baby girl like shit for months and act like I'm supposed to be grateful you have finally decided that she is now good enough for your son? Well, excuse me, Your Highness, but I don't give a rat's ass about you or him."
"Dad, please sit down. I need you to help me here."
His face softens and he sits down next to me.
"Are you really ready to get married? You haven't known him but a few months."
"You and Mom didn't know each other that long before you got married." I point out.
"I don't think we are who you need to model a marriage after."
"If I may interject, Esme and I were an arranged marriage and we are blissfully happy. Well, most of the time."
"No one pulled your chain." Charlie barks at Carlisle who throws his hands up in surrender. He turns to me. "Why? Why would you do this to yourself? You're finally getting better. You don't have to have him in your life to be happy."
"No, I don't. I can be happy without him."
He smiles and nods his head in satisfaction.
"You heard her, boys." He moves to stand to escort the trespassers out.
"But I don't want to." I whisper. He stops mid stand up and sits heavily back down.
"You don't?"
"No. I love him, Daddy. This was never about whether we loved each other. It was about whether we could come out on the other side of an impossible situation together. And it seemed we couldn't. But now I have a chance; we have a chance to be happy together and I think… no, I know, I want to take it. But I need your support because I love you, too, and I couldn't possibly choose between you two."
"Bella, don't you know? I'd never ask you to do that." He gathers me up into a hug. "I love you and I want you to be happy and if that little stupid ass fucker makes you happy…" I make a sound of protest. "Okay, fine… if Edward makes you happy then I'll be happy."
"Thank you."
"But if he steps one toe out of line, I will shoot off his crown jewels and I ain't talking about jewelry." He shoots a threatening look at Carlisle. "That goes for you, too. Am I making myself clear?"
Carlisle winces but nods. "Crystal, Mr. Swan."
"You can call me Charlie since we're gonna be family and all." He offers stiffly. "How long do I have to pack?"
"You're coming with us?"
"Baby Girl, it isn't everyday my daughter gets engaged." He kisses my forehead. Halfway up the stairs he leans down over the stair rails. "We should stop by Florida and get your mother. Y'all might not be as close as we are but you're hers, too."
I groan and think about apologizing to Carlisle and company but decide against it. After all the suffering I've endured at his hands, he can suck it up and deal with some of his own.
Payback's a bitch.
***TAP***
"So, let me get this straight. You run my Bella off then after five months beg her to marry your son, so he'll forgive you? I'd find it slightly romantic if it wasn't my daughter you did it to."
To her credit, Renee sat back in the luxurious private jet seat as Carlisle fumbled to explain our situation. I'd thrown him to the wolves with that one. She'd read up on it in the tabloids, emailed me and called some but she is the sort to shrug it off if no one is dying, preferring to concentrate on Phil and her work. She's not a bad mom, just more self-involved than most are.
"Must we rehash this time and again? It bored me the first time I heard it and now that it's been three times, I'm practically comatose. Yes, the big bad royal family hurt your precious daughter. Can we move on now?" Marcus complains from his seat in the back.
"Is it time to throw him off the plane yet?" I ask Carlisle.
Renee, Phil and Charlie look alarmed.
"We can if you want or we can wait until you've married Edward and you can have a Red Queen moment." Carlisle suggests.
"Ooh, off with his head!" I practice, smirking at the look on Marcus' face. "Oh, cheer up Marc-Ass. I don't really want to kill you."
"How charitable of you, Ms. Swan." His tone is droll, but I can tell he's warming up to me.
"Do I need to put him on my target list if things go bad?" Charlie whispers.
"Dad, you are not shooting anyone. Chill out."
He looks almost disappointed as he turns back to his fishing magazine.
My mother plops a stack of bridal magazines in my lap.
"What the hell is all this?"
"I bought them at the airport shop. We must get a move on it. I figure the Spring is lovely. Ooh, or the fall. Your Highness, when is the wedding scheduled to take place?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold the phones. There is a chance that Edward might not be on board with this all… subterfuge. Just let me see how that goes before I go picking flowers and cake and shit."
"It's up to Bella and Edward. Bella displayed some hesitation on the subject of marriage so if it takes a long engagement to make her comfortable, then I'll support that."
"You will?" He nods. "Thank you…" I trail off, more confused than ever at this about face.
"You're welcome. I really want to make this work. I'm not saying it will be easy, but I'll try if you will."
"I can do that. So, how are we going to do all… this?" I gesture to everyone on the plane.
"I'll let you know in due time. I'm still working out the details."
I want to object but decide to try to trust him. It's the only way this will work.
I decide to try to get some rest. Future princesses don't have bags under their eyes.
My last thought before falling asleep is that tomorrow night, I'll hopefully have my very own Prince Charming for keeps.
I borrowed the Princess of Wales title. All this royal stuff confuses me and I have shingles and am on pain pills, so... whatever.
See you next week!
Harpy out!