History Repeats Itself - A Prince Harry Fanfiction

Chapter Eleven

Harry sighed, turning to her as he stopped at yet another set of lights. "You're scared?"

"Yes," she said. "Can you blame me?"

"No, but..." He paused. "What are you scared about?"

"What do you think?"

"Granny?" He scoffed. "Honestly, Emmy, you're worrying about nothing. My grandmother is one of the loveliest women I've ever met. She'll adore you, you have nothing to be scared of."

"I'm still scared, though," she said. "I mean, Kate was going over all the etiquette and how I have to refer to her and the curtsey and-and-" Her voice broke. She still wasn't looking at him.

"Hey." He reached across for her hand, subconsciously realising that this was the first time they'd held hands when they hadn't been on a date, trying to fool people into thinking they were in love. This was the first time he'd reached forward and entwined his fingers with hers. He gave her hand a tiny squeeze. "Emmy, look at me."

"I'm fine," she said.

"Emmy," he said, his voice forceful. "Look. At. Me."

"Bossy," she mumbled, as she turned watery eyes to his.

He sighed; he'd feared she was crying. "Emmy-"

"I'm sorry," she said, turning away and wiping one of her eyes. "I'm just scared, I'm sorry-"

"Emmy, come here." To his despair, the light turned green and the cars in front started to pull away. He had no choice but to return to the wheel. "Sorry, hold on."

As soon as they were moving, he took a detour down a side road, where the traffic was scarce and the tourists didn't venture. As he turned, he noticed the confusion on the faces of his POs in the Range Rover behind them, but they instantly followed. Once off the main road, he swung the car into a parking space and turned to Emmy.

"Are we here?" she asked, horror leaking into her tone.

"You see Buckingham Palace anywhere round here?" he teased gently. "No, I wanted to make sure you're alright before we get there."

"I'm fine," she said, taking a deep breath. As she inhaled, a tiny tear rolled down her cheek. Harry watched it fall onto her blouse, not entirely sure what to do.

"Why are you crying?" he asked softly. "Is it because you're scared?"

Emmy looked at her lap, wiping her eyes, but she nodded.

"You're scared of my grandmother? And my grandfather?"

"Not...of them," she murmured.

"Meeting them?"

Her head bobbed in affirmation.

"I told you, Emmy," he said. "They're lovely people and they're going to love you. Hell, you said it yourself. You said that my grandmother owes you a lot. Yeah, she does. They all do. And they all know that. They love you for what you're doing and they haven't even met you yet."

"They love me?" she said sceptically. "That'll soon change."

He huffed. "Emmy, listen to me! Or do I have to call you by your full name?"

Harry expected her to crack a smile at his mild threat, but instead she glared. "You do that, and I'll call you Henry."

"Ooh, threatening." He grinned as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Emmy, seriously. They're all looking forward to meeting you."