The Prince's Secret (Prince Harry Fanfic)

Part 90 - The Sleeping Lion Redux

Samantha

"You want to go where?" Poppy asked again.

"To a pub. The Sleeping Lion. To meet some old friends," I told her.

"By yourself?"

"Obviously not by myself, if you are going with me," I said.

"Does His Royal Highness know you are going?" Poppy folded her arms over her chest.

He didn't, and he had already gone off to some event, so I wasn't going to bother him with the details. Besides, I didn't have to clear everything with him, did I?

"Are you my mother or my security guard?" I snapped. "I'm going to the Sleeping Lion, and you better drive me there or His Royal Highness will be royally pissed off." As Poppy rolled her eyes at me, I pulled my brown velvet frock coat on over faded jeans. "Just wait till you taste the shepherd's pie. It's to die for."

It felt strange to be back in the Sleeping Lion, which was exactly the same as I remembered—same dark wood paneling, faded paint, the TV playing a football game at the end of the bar with the same old gentlemen hoisting pints and discussing Arsenal and ManU in serious voices. They took no notice of me as I slipped in the back entrance, although Poppy did raise an eyebrow or two as she took a booth by herself, having the decency to give me a little privacy.

I sat down at the bar, noticing that there was one change in the decor—a copy of my first official photo with Harry, carefully cut from a magazine and framed proudly on the wall behind the bar. I made a mental note to ask Colin to send a better copy to Tom—maybe I could even get Harry to autograph it.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't me old Sammy girl—only now she's a duchess." Tom came out from behind the bar and made an elaborate bow.

I interrupted him with a big hug. "You don't have to do that. Please."

"What d'ya think of the new sign?" he asked.

"Sorry, I came in through the back. I haven't seen it."

"Well come outside and have a look!" Taking my arm, he led me out to the sidewalk. "I've changed the name of the pub!"

And so he had. The painted sign with its faded image of a snoozing lion was replaced by a freshly painted golden crown. Below it were the words The Duchess of Sussex.

Tom beamed, obviously proud. "What do you think?"

"You named the pub The Duchess of Sussex?" I asked, still puzzled.

"Yep! First one in the country too. When I heard that a bloke down in Dorset named his pub after the Duchess of Cornwall I thought, why don't I name mine after Sammy girl?"

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, so I just smiled. "It's a lovely sign. I'm honored."

Randa walked up as we stood on the sidewalk, gazing up the sign. "So HRH finally decided to make an appearance at her namesake?"

"Now don't you be giving your twin sister a hard time," Tom chided. "She's a busy one now with all the royal doings. Will ya take her photo here under the sign?"

"Both of us," I said, and Randa snapped a few shots of Tom and I with our arms over each other's shoulders.

"And can you take one of me and Randa?" I asked.

It took a few minutes to show Tom how to use the camera on my phone, but he eventually managed to get a few wobbly shots of us and I promised to send hard copies to him.

We took up our usual seats back in the pub and Tom brought us some shepherd's pie, delivering a plate to Poppy as well.

"Our Sam's a sneaky girl," he said, and I detected a bit of pride in his voice. "Run off and married Ol' Ginger without telling a soul! Gave Her Majesty a bit of the run-around too, I'm betting." He leaned over the bar, eyes shining. "You've met the grand old lady, I'm guessing?"

I nodded. "A few times, yes."

"You've got to tell me all about her. What's she like, in person? And ol' Charles with the big ears—what's he like?"

It felt strange to be talking about the royal family as my in-laws, and not just faces on the front of a magazine or on a note in my wallet. "The Queen is much shorter than you'd expect. She's only about this tall," I said, holding up a hand to indicate her height. "But she's very sweet, just wonderful...although she can be a bit intimidating."

"Got a spine of steel, Her Majesty has," Tom said. "And does she like you?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I think so. We get on well enough when we talk about horses," I said with a laugh. "She could talk about horses all day. She's invited me to go with her to the Royal Windsor Horse Show."

"That'll be a treat, sitting with the Queen and watching the competition," Tom said. "Maybe next year you'll compete. I'm sure ol' Ginger can buy you a nice fine hunter or jumper to ride."

"Me?" I said with a laugh. "I'm pretty sure that's not allowed."

"Why not? Princess Anne was a big champion back in her younger days. Rode in the Olympics, even," Tom said. "I don't see why you couldn't do the same."

I looked at Randa and she gave me a grin. "Why not? You'll have plenty of room to ride at Barnwell Manor, if you and HRH are planning to move there."

"We've talked about it," I said. "It's going to have to be renovated before we can move in. I think Harry would prefer to have a place in town, and use Barnwell for weekends." We'd actually had more than a few discussions about where we were going to take up residence, but so far no firm decision had been made. I was lobbying for a quiet country life at Barnwell, while Harry was hoping to move to a bigger space at Kensington Palace to stay close to Will and Catherine. I had a feeling we'd end up splitting our time between the two.

"Tell me more about this royal wedding that isn't a wedding," Tom begged, and I just knew that he and Doris had been poring over each week's copy of Hello! magazine for details.

"You'd be surprised at how much I don't know about that," I admitted. "When they start talking about guest lists and flowers and reception menus, I just tune right out. I'll be as surprised as everyone else on the big day."

"There have been a few rather vocal exceptions," came a crisp voice from behind me, and we all turned as Harry put a hand on my shoulder. He shook his hands with Tom while I gave Poppy a look.

"You ratted me out!" I hissed, but she just smiled.

"I just couldn't resist the thought of some of the Sleeping Lion's famous shepherd's pie," Harry said, and took a seat beside me while Tom hurried to get him a pint and a plate.

"It'll be the Duchess of Sussex's famous shepherd's pie now," I said dubiously, "and if they knew what my cooking was like, they'd stay away."

"And as for the ceremony," Harry said to Tom between bites, while even the old gents at the end of the bar looked on, "I'm hoping you and your lovely wife will join us for the procession at Windsor afterwards. We'll save a special place for you right by the door."

Tom blushed and stammered, and managed to squeak out a "Thank you, thank you so kindly, Your Highness, we'll be there with bells on, me and Doris. And what about Randa?"

"Randa will be right there too, no doubt, holding the horse. Didn't Sam tell you? She's determined to ride horseback in the procession, wedding dress and all, no matter what the Queen says."

All eyes turned to me. Randa began to laugh, slapping my shoulder, while Tom said, "But it isn't...that's not quite proper, is it? Surely you can have one of them nice open carriages, and the boys all spiffed up with brushes on their hats to ride beside you..."

"It's my ceremony," I said, as I had to everyone about this point, even the Queen, "and I am going to process out of Windsor Chapel riding Drizzle. And you," I said to Harry, as he broke into laughter, "better be on a horse right there beside me. Or I'm not showing up."