His Royal Highness, Prince Vincent - 13. Part of a Family

It's thundering!! I lose my WiFi on clear sunny days. I'm in a hurry before I lose my connection. I indulged myself on this chapter. You'll see it. Later! Love you!! Ooh, lightening! Hurry!!  

Part of a Family

Beverly and I did dance again. As I explained, Percival was a nice man and he loved his wife. He just could not dance! I remembered being a lot smaller watching the adults dance at parties. Just because we lived in a part of the world that was somewhat remote, we weren’t totally cut off. There were often parties. Those hired hands may had a difficult time reading, but they knew how to enjoy themselves. It was part of being human! We had music! A couple of hands played guitar and banjo, one had a harmonica and we had others to play everything from a jug someone blew into, to a washtub with a string attached to a tall stick they strummed, tightening or loosening the tension to change the sound. My father played spoons! He was good at doing more than eating with them. I have been to symphonies and knew some damned good musicians, but so were those hired hands! Now, one hired hand played a fiddle. Yes, technically it was a violin, but he played tunes on it you never heard at concerts in some cities. Dad would tie my legs to his legs and made me dance with my feet on his feet! His preference for lively jigs just spilled over on me. He loved dancing. He’d hold my hands up to keep me from falling over and he danced. He didn’t even need a partner. It was fun and I would laugh when we danced. I remember him doing it all my life on the ranch. I was about seven when he said I was getting too heavy. I loved that he would be close with me. He was my Dad! He and I did it, but I was about ten when I took mercy on his poor feet and stopped. We still danced, but I knew the steps.

Having another person know the truth about my relationship with Vincent was liberating! She had pieced it together on her own. She was very smart.

We sat again as we caught our breaths…again.

“We should let the musicians go home,” Vincent said behind me with an amused voice.

I turned and grinned, “Vinnie!! Hi!!”

Vincent held a finger up to Beverly, “Don’t even think about using that name with me.” He almost growled and folded his arms across his chest. “He just uses it to bother me.”

Beverly laughed and unfolded her fan to use on herself. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Then she began fanning me again.

Percival Haversham came over, “Don’t be too hard on David, Your Royal Highness. He has made this a great Christmas!” He was a stiff British Aristocrat mostly. “He saved my wife bruised toes.” He stood with his hands behind his back and his face had the same expression, but there was a slight sparkle in his eye. He almost smiled. Almost. He was a happy man! He was! The manners he used were taught to him and he used the successfully for half a century. They were a part of him.

Vincent smiled, “I understand.” He looked at me. “Perhaps our friends are tired and would like to retire for the evening?”

I looked around the ballroom and it was beginning to thin out. There were only a few people left, and they were milling their way toward the exit. I removed Dad’s watch and looked surprised at the time, “I had no idea it was so late.” It was almost three in the morning. “Yes, we should let these people go home.” I looked up at Lord Haversham. Time was being good to him as well. He kept the hairs in place with something. I know I say it often and you what I’ll say, but he was a good-looking man. Yes, I could easily see that! Thirty to thirty-five years ago you knew he was an active person! Athletics was the best treatment for the energy of young men, even in England! I’m not saying that to be mean, but when my father and I got to Wentworth, the men with their sons didn’t look like they ever broke a sweat. Lord Percival Haversham still had a trim waist and a chest that spoke of a good musculature under his shirt. I knew my father could have licked him in a fight though. I smiled at Beverly. “There is that period between Christmas and New Year’s. I know you will return to London after that, but I insist you both come to the house I’m using for dinner one evening. I’d love to meet Francesca and Mads.” I grinned, “I’d love to meet the new grandchild.” I knew that many mothers were reluctant to bring young babies into the cold and damp air. The mothers in Scandinavia were a little more aware of being in cold weather wasn’t a bad thing. It simply was. I saw some bundles of thick fur being carried and wondered what animal it was. It was Human. You need to be careful with babies breathing in cold air, but there were ways to handle that. The Pohogwe mothers felt the feet or infants and if the feet were warm, the baby was warm. I won’t even begin with the mothers in Russia that strip their newborns naked and dunk them in freezing river water during the winter. It was said to make the baby less susceptible to colds. What!? Even that caused me to wonder after reading it! I couldn’t argue! There were a lot of healthy Russians as proof!

“I suppose we could one evening,” Lord Percival almost grinned.

“Is there a rule for the House of Lords that prohibits expressing emotions?” I said smiling at him.

Beverly let out a huff, “No. Get them together as they discuss almost any topic and it becomes a shouting match.”

“We don’t express emotions one on one,” Lord Percival said. “Only when he discuss things for England.” The ghost of a smile was on his face.

We said good-bye to them, then to King Fredrick and Queen Maregete. Annabelle had left two hours before.

On the walk back to Aunt Benedikte’s home, we walked carefully. They salted things like the sidewalks and scattered sand or dirt to give traction under your feet. Even on a lighted street you couldn’t always see ice. It was just as I stepped on some of that ice and my left foot slipped from under me. The only thing to keep me from landing on my ass was Vincent!

“Woop! Forsigtig!” Vincent warned with a chuckle as he grabbed me.

I steadied myself pulling myself to his strong grasp, “I was being careful!”

Vincent nodded grinning, “Okay, vær mere forsigtig!”

My eyebrows came together, “If I’m being careful, how can I be more careful? Isn’t that like being pregnant opposed a little pregnant? I was careful!” I waved back at the palace we just left, “They couldn’t find my boots for this ice!” I had worn boots that were made for ice. The thick rubber soles of the boots were covered with little metal spikes that helped get traction if there was none otherwise. And the leather boots kept the salt from ruining your dress shoes.

Vincent was now laughing, “We’re almost there. Hang on to me.” We begun to walk again slowly. “You and Beverly danced a lot tonight. More than you did before.”

I chuckled, “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Vincent said. “In a previous discussion, you were concerned about what people would say.”

“She knows,” I said to Vincent. “She knows about you and me.”

Vincent stopped and he looked at me. His comment or question wasn’t voiced. Yet, I understood him just fine. A decade together? I could read his expressions without a problem.

“No!” I said firmly to him, “I would never just tell her! She told me!” I shook my head, “You know me better than that! I would never divulge a secret about us without including you to tell about it! She figured it out years ago.”

Vincent’s eyes were darting back and forth as he thought about what I said, “Okay…” he started and looked for words to ask.

I took his arm and pulled him on again, “I’m cold. We can talk more at home.” I brightened when I said that! We were going home! It was Aunt Benedikte’s palatial house, but it had become our home. “She’s fine with it. Beverly is not an ignorant person.” As we walked, the moonless and starless sky had white flakes coming down gently. The hushed music played again for me.

One thing I insisted on. I never went to bed dirty or sweaty. Beverly and I had danced very hard and sweat was just going to happen. Another thing. While most houses these days had a room to bathe in, few had bathrooms. Water closets were becoming more predominate. Indoor toileting was still new! No one wants to trudge through freezing weather to go to an outhouse. Even with chamber pots or those fancy chairs in palaces and homes you used when nature called were fine, but…showers! Those had only been around maybe a century. Warm water poured over your head has been around since ancient Egypt. I had a kind of shower at the ranch! The shower here was a miracle! Warm water, pounding on your head like a hot water fall! And the water was always clean! A tank kept the water warm and ready to use…as long as the tank had power and natural gas. At that moment, I had power and the pilot light was on. The tank’s water would have to be replaced and the new water added needed heating up for next time. With two good sized men using it, that water needed reheating often. We stretched the warm water supply by sharing the shower. Sensible, weren’t we?

“Does, Lord Percival know?” Vincent asked as he washed his hair creating white suds. Steam rose around us as the warm water flowed.

I was using a great soap I’d gotten. It was plant based and not animal based, lye or harsher things. It even had a more manly smell! Some French soaps smelled very flowery and sweet. Mom may like it, but I didn’t want to smell like a flower. I chose a soap and shampoo from America! It was called “Bee Rugged.” Yes, I’ll wait until you stop laughing. I’ll wait. It was a play on words! It came from bees! Honey and pollen in the soap and it worked! It had a slight musk smell. That and “Dragon’s Blood.” No dragon was hurt to make the soap or shampoo. Goat’s milk, amber, myrrh, sandalwood…you smelled manly. “Are you still bothered by that!?”

Vincent rinsed the shampoo from his hair, closing his eyes, “Not really bothered, but it is unnerving.” He shrugged. “We’ve been so careful…”

“And?” I interrupted. “Beverly has been a friend for years! She pieced things together from knowing us so long. Whether or not Percy knows or not doesn’t matter.”

Vincent’s eyes grew a little, “Percy? You call Lord Percival Haversham Percy?”

“Only out of love,” I grinned and shrugged. “His knowing about us could also explain why he’s not jealous when I dance with Beverly so often.” I shrugged again. “We can’t have too many allies. They make excellent allies.”

This was an unusual Christmas. It happened once every seven years. Christmas day was on Monday. Naturally, Christmas Eve was on Sunday. The Royal Christmas Party was on Saturday night. Those people whose job was scheduling things thought it would be better not to have the Royal Christmas party on Sunday night. It was custom to have a midnight service at Frederik’s Church as Christmas Eve became Christmas Day. Catholics, Church of England, Orthodox or reformed all celebrated December 25^th. Orthodox began their twelve days of Christmas or Old Christmas. The church here was Lutheran. Yep, I threw my hands and gave up and just went with whatever. Again, I was not a heathen. I knew someone or something was in charge, but I knew men, even men who knew they were right, didn’t know everything. The Pohogwe admitted that right off! How can anybody claim to know answers when we weren’t even sure about the questions? Anyone claiming they knew the answer told me they didn’t have a clue.

Vincent and I did go back to Amalienborg Palace and once again the Changing of the Guard was happening. It didn’t matter if it was good weather or bad. Snow nor rain didn’t stop some things. The Royal Guard demonstrated they were always ready. I felt sorry for them sometimes. And not just the guards, but everyone that worked at the palace. This was Christmas Eve! However, there was Boxing Day. I had to scratch my head about that too when I first got to London. It was only fair!! After Christmas Day, on the 26^th or another day after was set ahead of time was when you thanked those that were servants! Yes! Thanking them for their loyal service and hard work during the year gifts were given from the people that employed them. It was really big in England. Seeing how almost everyone was related it spread all over Great Britain and Europe. The servants would get Christmas Boxes containing food, money and even gifts! It started in the 17^th Century. The thing was, I had people that worked for me? Yes, they were citizens of Denmark. They had been in the service of King Fredrik and Queen Maregete. They were worked for Denmark. The king wasn’t letting Aunt Benedikte’s home deteriorate, so he had a few servants keep it up even if it was empty. Now it wasn’t empty. They were good employees! Remember? I said they were better than any out there. To work for the Royal Family they had to be. They were paid more because of that. My allowance from Wyoming wasn’t used much while I lived in London or Copenhagen. Not fair! I know, but Queen Victoria housed her cousin and I stayed with him. I stayed with Vincent in Copenhagen. The United States of America would be putting my wages in the account. There would also be a Household Account and I would be paying those employees in Denmark from United States dollars to Danish kroner. A krone was a crown.

How did I get here? Oh, yeah. The Changing of the Guard. Coming into the palace, we didn’t see anyone. No, that wasn’t true. Bad, Mr. Ambassador. Very bad. I never wanted to get to the point I didn’t see people. There were guards on the first floor standing at attention. If they were walking around I would ask them where the family had gone. I couldn’t just shout “Where is everyone?” I could, but I knew better. I could show my Ring of Trust and ask one of them, but they were working and I had legs and could simply look. The palace guards at Buckingham Palace wouldn’t budge or even blink!

I felt Vincent take my arm by the elbow and led me in a direction. We entered the library and found Annabelle with her attention engrossed over what she was reading. What was obvious was she picked up something to read and pored over it to the point she forgot what she was doing. It seemed she was going to sit down and…whatever that caught her attention made her forget and she was just standing. Reading. Her back was to us and she concentrated so much so, she didn’t hear either of us. I was always teasing Vincent about the horns on Vikings, but I can say this Viking didn’t even need a helmet! I can not confirm or deny there is a devil, so I didn’t know if the devil had horns or not. Right then, Vincent did! I practically saw them grow out of the top of his head!! He grinned at me and held his fingers to his lips instructing me to be quiet. It was in his eyes! I knew what he was going to do! He grabbed her shoulders and shouted, “Boo!!”

Annabelle let out a scream and turned quickly, “Lort!!” (Shit) She shouted and hauled off and hit Vincent as hard as she could in his left shoulder! “Forpulede rovhul!” (Fucking asshole) Vincent was laughing too hard and I was laughing, too. She literally covered her chest over her heart as she panted to catch her breath and slow a heart that pounded. “For helvede!!” (God damn it)

I chuckled, “Thank you, Princess. I haven’t gone over my swear words in Danish recently.”

“Stick around,” Annabelle muttered. “I’m sure you’ll hear others.” She smacked Vincent on the arm, “You scared me!!”

Vincent nursed his wounded shoulder, but chuckled, “I know! I wanted to!” He pointed at what Annabelle had in her hands. “What is that?”

She had something in a kind of leather-bound notebook. “I don’t know really.” Her breathing was becoming regular again. “It was on Daddy’s desk.”

“On Dad’s desk?” Vincent asked cautiously.

“Yes,” Annabelle said a little snide. “Not locked away like all those secret letters and things are kept, but on his desk.” She held it out. “It’s in English.” She handed it to Vincent. “It’s…like a collection of letters, newspaper articles, diary entries, telegrams and ship logs.” She smiled and pointed to the notebook, “Then I realized it was for a book. There’s this Count in the Carpathian Mountains. Transylvania.” She shrugged, “I knew it was fiction when Mr. Stoker, the author scratched out the name Count Wampyr to Count Dracula.”

“I believe that is supposed to be pronounced Vam pyr,” I smiled.

“Yes, yes,” Annabelle waved that off. “Mister Languages here is no doubt right, but this Dracula is a vampire!!” She said with excitement in her voice. “It’s good!!”

“That’s right,” King Fredrik said coming in smiling at us. “A ruler of Wallachia in the 15^th century who thinks the incarnation of his lost love is alive in England. Mina Seward. He even buys a house in Whitby to be near her.”

“Wait!” I held up my hand, “You mean Vlad Tepes? The Impaler?”

King Fredrik smiled and waved at the notebook, “Bram Stoker never says that.”

I narrowed an eye and looked at him, “Oh, come on, Uncle Fred! Vlad Dracul the Second was in that chivalrous Order of the Dragon. This Count Dracula? The Dragon? Who else could it be?”

King Fredrik shrugged and looked innocent, but he smiled. He knew. “I know the author devoted a lot of time researching for this book.”

Annabelle grinned, “I know you’ll love it!” She said to me.

Vincent smirked, “And just how do you know he’ll love it? I might like it, too.”

Annabelle walked over to him and pulled the notebook from Vincent’s hand. She nodded, “You might, but he will.” She said firmly. “He loves Wagner,” She said Vagner, “that’s dark stuff.” She shook the notebook. “This is very dark.”

King Fredrik smiled at his daughter, “You weren’t frightened reading it?” He asked concerned.

“Sure, I was!” Annabelle smiled, “He wrote it for that purpose!” She looked at Vincent. “It’s a creeping, slow building kind of scary. I like that. Not the jump out and shout boo kind.” She hit him again.

Vincent grinned, “I can’t say I’m sorry, because I’m not.”

“You were given this to read?” I asked.

“No,” King Fredrik shook his head and smiled weakly, “Christian was. He and I met Nick and Scott in…Paris.” He admitted embarrassed.

“Paris?” Vincent asked and pointed straight down for the Paris underground.

“Yes,” King Fredrik nodded and also pointed down. “Nick knew Bram and is looking to publish it.”

“Is there another language I need to learn?” Annabelle asked testily, “Is,” she pointed down like they had, “this code for something?”

Vincent nodded, “Yes.” He said simply and left her at that.

Annabelle let out a frustrated, “Uuhh!”

“They are still planning to in a year or so.” King Fredrik was smiling at his daughter’s dramatics. “Nick sent the manuscript and notes so Christian could read it. Christian thought I should.” He shrugged. “Nick will love opinions from you.” He looked at Annabelle, “And you.”

Vincent nodded, “Sure.”

“It’s very creepy and scary,” Annabelle said. “It’s also very romantic!”

King Fredrik waved at her, “Well, write that down!” He looked at Vincent and me, “Will you do that?”

“Of course!” I nodded.

Queen Maregete joined us and we ate a quiet meal together. It is official. I loved this family! I felt a part of it. The king and queen got along fine! As friends, because they were friends. Vincent and Annabelle were two typical siblings. They loved and even liked each other! Vincent teased his kid sister and she let him know he’d be sorry about that. I also knew any threat to her, he would kill them. No one would hurt her. I no longer concerned myself about her safety, she struck back just fine. That I was allowed to be there and even contributed to the teasing was priceless!

“So,” Annabelle smiled. Those horns on Vincent were on her now, “you sure danced a lot with Lady Beverly Haversham.”

That was her way of asking for details. It wasn’t being mean, she was just curious. I saw Queen Maregete look a little cross at her daughter. I held up my hand to Queen Maregete, “No, Aunt Maregete. In the spirit of the new honesty policy, I’ll answer.” I smiled at Annabelle, “I met her a while back at a party like the one last night. That party was at Buckingham Palace. Beverly loves to dance! Lord Percival is a wonderful man. I like him very much, but I doubt he can tap his foot in rhythm. I sort of became his stand-in when it comes to dancing.” I smiled thinking about them. “She was the first friend I made that wasn’t attached to anything royal or even the school. She’s very intelligent and she helped when my mother came to England.” I chuckled and looked at Vincent. “In many ways, she was a kind of mother to me. A female mentor.” I smiled, “I love her very much and Percy.” I grinned. Annabelle began laughing.

Vincent laughed, “Wait until they come for dinner this week! I’m telling him about your name for him.”

“I’ll tell him!” I held my right hand out to Vincent, “Do you want to try to take this off me again, Vinnie?” Now King Fredrik and Queen Maregete were laughing.

He looked at his mother and father, “He had it glued on!” He shook his head, “He reminded me I’d have to kill him first, because I had him promise never to take it off until he died.” He shrugged.

“Beverly is special and I would never cheapen our friendship by trying anything else with her,” I grinned at Annabelle. “What about your dancing? That one looked like he nicked himself shaving before the party. How old was he?” I saw her squirm a little.

“Thirteen,” Vincent answered for his sister. “Rikki Poulsen, wasn’t it?”

“Rikki is fourteen now,” Annabelle corrected. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have been here last night.”

My eyebrows rose, “There is an age limit? Why? Because of the alcohol?”

“Ha!” Annabelle said short and fast. “His mother wouldn’t let him touch any!”

“Really?” King Fredrik asked. “Most parents introduce wines and things like that when they are young.” He looked at Vincent. “You were four when we gave you wine for the first time.” He chuckled, “Your first wine critique was...it was yucky.”

The mental image I had of a four-year-old Vincent turning his nose up at the first wine was hilarious. “You didn’t water it down for him?”

“No,” Queen Maregete shook her head. “He wanted what we were having. So, we gave it to him.”

“It was three years later before he asked again,” King Fredrik chuckled.

At eleven thirty, we took a sleigh to the Frederick’s church. We didn’t want the Queen or Princess Annabelle to ruin their shoes. Oh! And they found my boots from the night before.