A
Queen From the North
A
Royal Roses Book
by
Erin McRae & Racheline Maltese
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
It may be the 21st century, but in a not-so-united kingdom the wounds of the Wars of the Roses have never healed. The rivalry between the Yorkish north and Lancastrian south has threatened to pull the nation apart for over 500 years.
While the modern world struggles with fractures born of ancient conflict, Lady Amelia Brockett faces far more mundane problems. Known to her family as Meels, this youngest daughter of a Northern earl is having the Worst. Christmas. Ever. Dumped by her boyfriend and rejected from graduate school, her parents deem her the failure of the family.
But when her older brother tries to cheer her with a trip to the races, a chance meeting with Arthur, the widowed, playboy Prince of Wales, offers Amelia the chance to change her life -- and Britain's fortunes -- forever. Hunted by the press -- and haunted by Arthur's niece who fancies herself the kingdom's court witch -- Amelia finds herself adrift in a sea of paparazzi, politics, and prophecy.
With few allies beyond her allergic-to-horses sister-in-law, her best friend who has a giant crush on the prince, and the cute young receptionist at Buckingham Palace that calls himself her Royalty Customer Service Representative, Amelia must navigate a perilous and peculiar course to secure Arthur's love and become A Queen from the North.
When Amelia returned to the stable yard leading Hyacinth’s horse beside her, almost an hour had passed. She was tired, cold, and very in want of a bath. She was also increasingly worried about the Princess, if for no other reason than a total lack of information.
She turned the erstwhile runaway horse over to a groom who came out to meet her, relieved to have had help with the difficult animal. The stable yard was otherwise mostly empty, except for a man on the other side of it brushing down a horse. With a jolt of surprise she realized it was Arthur.
He looked over when she rode up to him and swung down.
“You caught him,” he said, nodding to Hyacinth’s horse.
“Yes. Eventually. He ran into the woods. It took forever. Is Hyacinth all right?”
“For the most part. Broken wrist. Our physician took her to A&E, much to her displeasure. She’ll be back in an hour or so with X-rays and a cast. Could have been much worse.”
Amelia blew out a relieved breath. A broken wrist was an annoyance, particularly for the active Hyacinth, but it was much better than the dire scenarios she’d been spinning in her head.
“The horse is all right?” Arthur asked.
Amelia nodded. “Perfectly fine and not even sure what all the upset was about. Damn skittish though.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow as she removed her own horse’s tack and saddle.
“Why do you look surprised?” she asked.
Arthur shrugged. “You’re a small girl. This part’s a lot of work.”
“And you’re the Prince of Wales, doing it yourself. Isn’t this what you have people for?”
Arthur ran a hand down his horse’s neck. “This is one of the only things people leave me alone to do.”
“I bet it took you a while to train them into that.”
“It did.”
They fell into a silence after that, both of them focused on their horses. But whenever she glanced sideways at Arthur she caught him staring at her.
“This weekend is a bit of a mess,” Amelia said mildly into the silence which was beginning to grow awkward. “One of the Princesses fell off a horse, the other hates me; your friends think I’m a child and a fool who can’t even make it to dinner on time; and it’s only Saturday morning. You want me to be queen, I think, but no one else here seems to know that and they’d probably be appalled if they did.”
“I don’t really care about what other people think. Do you? Or was this just a game until it got hard?”
“Other people are not what make any of this hard. What makes this hard is you and your inability to be consistent or transparent about anything. Including whether you want me around.”
“I wanted to call,” Arthur said quietly. “When my father was ill.”
“So why didn’t you?” Amelia demanded. Maybe now they could be done with this argument once and for all. And maybe Arthur would finally say something that could make her understand him and his wretched mercurialness.
“Enough awful things have happened in my life. You’re one of the good ones. I didn’t want to drag you into a crisis.”
“If you want me to be your partner, you need to treat me as such,” Amelia said. “I won’t break because the world is hard to live in sometimes. If I’m going to go through with this, I’m not doing it alone.”
“So you are going through with this?” Arthur asked. He turned to look intently at her.
“That was the deal.”
“Good. Will you marry me?”
Amelia blinked. “What?”
“I said, will you marry —”
“No.” She took a step back, panicked. “Not like this. You can’t ask me like this.”
Arthur looked around, as if he had just realized where they were. “We can go inside?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean? You’re clearly not doing this just for your health,” Arthur looked nervous, Amelia noticed in an abstract way.
"Without me, your crown, or at least your legacy, is forfeit. I'm barely more than a child who is about to be abused by media all over the world. The least you can do is kneel." Amelia had no idea where the words came from. She hadn’t rehearsed them, indeed had never imagined this moment, not like this: standing in the Gatcombe stable yard in the cold damp of an English spring.
Arthur smiled at her, almost proud. Then, he strode the two paces to where she stood and sank to one knee before her, right there in the dirt. His horse whickered softly as he took her hands in his.
“Go on,” Amelia said. “Both knees.” She could hardly believe her own daring, but Arthur had always seemed to enjoy it when she pushed. She would have so little power in their lives going forward, he could at least give her this.
Arthur seemed to agree, because he shifted his other knee under himself as well.
At the sight of the Prince, on both of his knees for her and at her command, Amelia realized with a startling clarity that she was absolutely and completely in love with him. Well then.
“Is this all right?” he asked, with an amused tilt of his mouth.
It took Amelia a moment to find her voice. “Yes.”
“Lady Amelia Brockett. Of Kirkham. Of York. Of all my supposed enemies.” He looked her straight in the eye. “Will you marry me?”
Amelia nodded.
Arthur squeezed her hands. “The least you can do,” he said, “Is actually say yes. Aloud. Please.”
“All right then,” she replied, laughing just a little. “Yes, Arthur, I will marry you.”
“Shit,” Arthur said.
“Excuse me?”
Without a word, he stood, grabbed Amelia by the wrist, and strode off to the house, dragging her after him.
“Arthur!” she demanded, as he banged in through the side door and tromped through the atrium and then the sitting room, past a handful of people who broke off conversation to stare after them. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t have the rings,” Arthur said as he reached the stairs and started to climb, two at a time. Amelia had to run to keep up.
“You forgot?”
“I wasn’t quite planning on….” Arthur trailed off as they reached a wing Amelia hadn’t been in yet. He fumbled a door open and pulled her inside. For a moment their bodies were pressed together, and then the door closed again with a muffled bang of heavy oak.
Erin McRae is a queer writer based in New York and Washington, DC. She is a researcher, statistician, and novelist.
She has a bachelor’s degree in International Relations from the University of Toronto (Toronto, Canada) and a master’s degree in International Affairs from American University (Washington, DC).
Together
with Racheline Maltese she founded Avian30, a literary collective
dedicated to stories with magical and sexual realism. She is a hybrid
author. She and Racheline Maltese have self-published titles (A Queen
From the North, 2017; The Art of Three, 2017, and the Love in Los
Angeles series, which was originally published by Torquere Press in
2014 and is being re-released in 2017). They have also published work
with Cleis Press (Best Gay Romance, 2015), Dreamspinner (The Love’s
Labours series, 2015), Supposed Crimes (Young Love Old Hearts, 2015).
She
lives with her spouse and their two cats.
Racheline Maltese can fly a plane, sail a boat, and ride a horse, but has no idea how to drive a car. With Erin McRae she writes romance about fame and public life. She is also a producer and writer on Tremontaine, Serial Box Publishing's adventure of manners, swordplay, and chocolate that's a prequel to Ellen Kushner's gay lit classic, Swordspoint.
Racheline's training includes a journalism degree from The George Washington University, as well as acting and directing coursework at the Atlantic Theater Company Acting School (New York City) and the National Institute of Dramatic Art (Sydney, Australia).
Her
fiction, non-fiction and poetry has appeared in numerous outlets, and
she is a regular speaker on pop-culture topics at fan and academic
conferences. Racheline also voiced Desire and Delirium in a benefit
performance of Neil Gaiman's The Sandman for the CBLDF.
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