Tuesday, April 10, 2007, London, England
London Flat of Lady Stephanie Dynasty-Lancaster
He said he'd show at 3pm.
It's 3:30 now.
Not like him to be late, ever.
I'm on pins and needles actually.
These past few days have been nothing but a whirlwind of chaos - phone
calls in the middle of the night from the police, interrogation,
repeated calls from the press for interviews (which I have turned down)
and now we sit, myself, and Edward, in our den, awaiting the arrival of
my ex-husband.
The now widower Duke of Wessex.
I don't know what to expect, I don't know whether I will receive
hostility, apathy, or even...an eagerness to reconcile.
"Where's Daddy," Edward
pipes up sitting on the rug with a toy Jaguar
automobile.
"He's coming soon love."
"You said that fifteen minutes
ago."
The joys of aging children.
I try a smile.
"Believe me honey. He's
eager to see you."
He frowns and continues to play with the car.
Knocking at the door finally.
"That'll be your Father, go
answer it Eddy."
He's away and at the front door before I even finish and indeed, it is
him.
"DADDY!"
Although it's been several months since I've seen him, he looks as if
he's aged 10 years.
He doesn't say anything as he picks Edward up in his arms and pulls him
close as his body begins to convulse, his eyes closed firmly.
The trauma of the past few days must be overwhelming and I can't help
but feel truly sorry for him.
"Hello Robert." I
walk up to him as he puts Edward down, who immediately grabs hold of
his leg. His eyes are red and he is not terribly audible in his
response.
"Hello luv."
We embrace and I feel the tenderness of his fingers, gripping my
back.
I have missed them.
"Please come in."
He wipes his eyes and Edward is already drawing for his attention.
"Daddy I got a new car! Come
see!!"
"Okay son show Daddy."
He takes Eddy's hand and we walk into the den.
Eddy gleefully shows off his new toy car, unaware and so innocent about
the horror that befell his father.
Let his ignorance be his guardian for as long as possible.
We visited and played with Eddy for a little while when...
"Stephanie I need to talk to
you...privately," he whispers.
I'm not sure what he wants but for the time being I shant deny him
anything.
Gordon Ramsay's at Claridge, London,
England
Reservations are a man's natural enemy.
But as Duke of Wessex, even one whose wife was just murdered, it's not
out of the realm of possibility to book a restaurant pretty much to
one's self in three hours' notice. The Amaryllis Room was ours with one phone
call. And I'm glad.
For what I have to do, I need the
privacy to ask her. And tell her.
"There's something I need to
tell you about...why apparently he did what he did."
I know she isn't comfortable, but she braces herself.
"Whatever drove him to kill
her...I'm sure it made sense to him."
I nod.
"I loved her Stephanie.
Make no mistake. But from what I've been told...I should thank
the old bastard."
Her eyes do widen with surprise.
"There's no way to say this but
bluntly. And even thinking about me shakes my very soul."
"For God's sake Robert spit it
out."
"She planned to kill Edward."
Her haughtiness is eliminated as she covers her mouth with a hand.
"But..."
"She also wanted to have a
child by me. My thinking. Kill Edward, get pregnant, and
she now has in her hands the heir to everything I have."
Her expression sours.
"Did you..."
I shake my head.
"Do not even insinuate..."
"I'm sorry. I hated
her. You know that."
Jealousy?
"I know. I realize now
that I was married to shit for two years. Stephanie she stole
from me, cheated on me, and attempted to take that which is more
valuable to me than anything in the world."
She wipes away a tear as it is all too much for her.
"For all I know...I was next on
her list. Then with the child so young, she would be the only
natural choice to hold control of the Duchy, and everything else."
Her hand reaches across the table and holds mine.
"Thank you love."
I squeeze her hand. She squeezes back.
"Now I must ask you something
very...serious. Something very profound and of long lasting
consequence."
The nervousness on her face is obvious.
Maybe she thinks I'm going to propose.