Prince Harry of Wales is engaged to marry a beautiful American actress. He loves her...or so he keeps telling himself. He's ready to marry. She's the one. She has to be.
So why is he having so many doubts?
And then, a chance meeting with aspiring cl...
I was ready to go to Windsor the next morning to see Drizzle but Harry wanted to join me, so I puttered around unpacking until mid afternoon. We pulled out of Kensington with Harry behind the wheel, Simon sitting forlornly in the back.
As we drove through the gates at Windsor I said, "Do I have to curl up on the floor this time?"
"What?" Harry asked, and Simon snorted.
I laughed. "Well, the last time I came through the gates of Windsor Castle I was curled up on the floorboards out of sight."
Harry reached over and gripped my hand. "We'll have no more of that. No more back alleys, sneaking around, borrowing other people's flats—"
"That's good to know."
Driz was comfortable in a big box stall, her leg bandaged. She was gaining weight, beginning to put on more muscle, and I fussed over her for a long time.
Harry stepped out to make some phone calls so I slipped a halter on Driz. One of the grooms pointed out a quiet tree-lined bridle path and I urged Driz along, watching her stride carefully. She was still stiff but seemed to have little pain as we walked, taking one slow step after another, her head bobbing.
"Oh my...what's happened to this lovely lady?"
I turned as two people on horseback came up behind me. One was a middle-aged man, looking very business-like. The one who had spoken was an elderly lady in a jacket and flowered head scarf.
I started to speak, and then froze.
It was the Queen.
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A thousand thoughts raced through my mind in a flash and the only one I could grab onto was curtsey!
I bobbed up and down as best I could and breathed, "Your Majesty."
She said nothing and I realized she was waiting for an answer to her question.
"She was a polo pony—a really good one, but she got injured. Harry—His Royal Highness—bought her at auction. She can't play polo anymore but we're—I'm—rehabbing her. She's made a lot of progress in the last few weeks and I'm hoping to start riding her soon," I yammered like an idiot. I must have been blushing like crazy, my eyes on the Queen's boot in her stirrup, hand on Driz's neck for support.
The Queen nodded. "Well done. Are you one of Prince Harry's grooms? I don't believe I've seen you here before."
Ohmygod how do I answer this! "Well, umm, no..."
And then Harry was there beside me, taking my free hand, and I clutched at it like it was a life preserver thrown from the deck of the Titanic. He dipped his head to the Queen, and said, "Your Majesty, I'd like you to meet Samantha Walden. And her horse, Drizzle."
"Oh," the Queen said, her voice trailing upwards on the word. "It is good to meet you at last, Miss Walden."
"It is my pleasure, Your Majesty—"
Ma'am, Harry mouthed at me.
"Ma'am," I corrected myself hastily.
"We are just headed out for a short ride, but I would be delighted if the two of you would join me for tea in about an hour," the Queen said, and although it was an invitation, I could tell that it was expected that we would not refuse. Looking directly at me, she said, "I want to hear more about your Drizzle's injury and how she's recovering."
"Yes, of course, Ma'am," I said.
The Queen nodded at her security and they moved off down the path. Driz neighed as the other horses left, a somewhat triumphant sound as if she had chased them away, and I yanked on her lead rope. "Be quiet."
Harry squeezed my hand, looking at me with a smile. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
I rolled my eyes. "No, of course not. I always envisioned meeting the Queen of England in sloppy jeans and a sweatshirt. With horse shit on my boots."
Harry laughed. "Maybe after tea you'll understand that this was the best possible way for her to see you for the first time—in your natural element. Comfortable with who you are."
I looked at him suspiciously. "I'm beginning to think you wanted this to happen."
"Could be," he said, giving me a kiss.
I broke away abruptly when Driz yanked at her lead rope, trying to bite Harry's arm. "Stop it, you beast," I said, and then to Harry, "I'd better get her back in the barn and see what I can do to clean up before this royal tea."
Harry nodded, taking my hand but taking care to stay out of Driz's reach. "You'll be glad to know I tossed some clean jodhs and a jacket for you in the boot before we left. Just in case."
"You were planning this!"
"Let's just say I was hoping for the opportunity. Come on. Driz doesn't walk very fast and you've got boots to clean before we go in the house."
