Destined for Doon (12 page)

In all the imaginings of my reunion with my bestie, not once did I picture the short, bushy guard blocking Vee’s chamber. The man’s craggy face seemed to be more mutton chops than skin surface. The caterpillar mustache that concealed his top lip muffled his brogue and made it nearly impossible to comprehend a word he uttered. The only thing I understood for sure was that he refused to budge.

“For the last time, open the door.”

“Nay. I’ll no’ do it. Her Highness’s sleeping.”

“I don’t care if Her Highness has a fatal case of bedhead — I’m going in.”

Duncan stood off to one side, leaning against the wall with his feet crossed at the ankles. He watched the exchange with a sardonic quirk to his lips. It was tempting to appeal to him as
the prince to intervene, but since I’d been adamant about not needing his help, I was determined to do this on my own. After all, it was only one bushy guard.

One of the first things you learn in acting is that every person has a motivation and a weakness. Everyone is exploitable under the right circumstances. I just had to figure out what motivated Mutton Chops. I decided to start with the obvious.

“Just listen. I’m the queen’s closest friend, which makes me the royal bestie. If you let me pass, I’ll see you’re rewarded with a bag of ducats.”

The guard widened his stance, crossed his arms over his chest, and set his shaggy jaw. The hairy little fellow barely came up to my shoulder, but as always seemed to be the way with the vertically challenged, what he lacked in stature he made up for in determination.

“Nay.” Yep, he was compensating big time.

Channeling my inner Mimi, I pouted my lips and batted my eyelashes. “Come on. She’s gonna be so happy to see me. She’ll probably give you a medal or something for letting me in.”

When he didn’t answer, I added, “Pleeeeeese?”

The hairy man had to be a robot. Bribing my way past him had been a dud, ditto for flirting. And my secret weapon, the whiny voice, had shockingly failed me. So there was only one course of action left.

“Hey,” I said, seeming contrite. “I understand you’re doing your job. So I’ll just wait here until the queen wakes up.”

As I spoke, I took miniscule steps forward until the guard was close enough to kiss. “Thank you for taking such good care of her.”

Without warning, I brought my heel down on Mutton Chops’ foot. He doubled over as I grabbed his backside and shoved. When he went sprawling, I launched myself at Vee’s door.

I staggered into Vee’s dimly lit sitting room, scanning for the bedroom door. Mutton Chops came scrambling after me on his hands and knees. Like a tenacious badger, he sprang to his feet hissing, “Halt!”

Faking left before going right, I scurried around an ottoman. Mutton Chops tried to cut me off, so I climbed up and over a couch — and crashed into an accent table. Knocked to my knees, I scrambled for a basket of pillows and began lobbing them at Mutton Chops like fuzzy missiles. When I was out of ammo, I leapt to my feet and flung myself at the door which I hoped led to Vee’s sleeping area.

“In the name of Her Majesty Queen Veronica, I order ye to halt!”

Mutton Chops grabbed the back of my shirt with both fists, and I jerked to a halt. As he tried to pull me backward, I planted my feet and strained to move forward. For a second I toyed with the idea of shedding my top, but the sports bra I’d been wearing since the stinky cow barn was currently tucked into the waistband on my PJs. I’d removed the uncomfortable, disgusting thing when Duncan’s back was turned. Although I had an admittedly low inhibition threshold, I wasn’t about to go au naturel it on my first day back in Doon.

Instead, I strained to take another step. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Nay.” Mutton Chops tugged me back with a grunt. “Halt. Now.”

From the next room, a muffled, lovely voice said, “It’s okay. I’m up.”

“Let her be, Eòran.” Duncan lounged in the entryway looking thoroughly entertained, like a circus spectator minus the peanuts. When the guard seemed reluctant to release me, Duncan stepped into the sitting room with my canvas bag.
Addressing Mutton Chops, he gently ordered, “Back to your post, man.”

The guard hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Yes, m’laird.”

As Mutton Chops let go, I grabbed my bag and pivoted to face him. “I told you she’d want to see me.” I couldn’t help but stick my tongue out in triumph before escaping into the chamber beyond.

Vee stood barefoot next to her bed wearing a blue-and-green flannel robe over her nightgown. “You’re here!” she exclaimed, opening her arms for one of her famous bear hugs. “What happened to you?”

Now that I clung to my best friend, all the emotions of the past year churned to the surface, threatening to bubble over. Using my excess adrenaline to keep the weepies at bay, I babbled, “It’s nothing. Except I nearly died and got kissed by a cow, but I’m here, finally.”

When Vee eased up on her death grip, I perched on the edge of the bed, pulling her down next to me. “I want to hear about you. What’s it like being a queen? What kind of cool perks do you get?”

She frowned at me in the lamplight. “Ken, it’s not like I dress up all fancy and walk around greeting people like a Disneyland character. I’m running a country.”

“And I bet you rock at it!”

“That remains to be seen — but I want to know why you’re wearing pajamas and look like a refugee from an Aldous Huxley novel.” She touched my face, wiping at what was likely a smudge with the pad of her thumb. “I’m not buying that dirty dystopian is the latest trend in beauty.”

I didn’t get what boring high school literature had to do with my filthy PJs, but I’m sure Vee had some logical connection. “The Brig o’ Doon was out,” I explained. “So we had to enter Doon through the mountains — but then Muir Lea was
out, so we had to improvise by going off-road, which was nearly impossible because of the zombie fungus.”

“Zombie fungus?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s that?”

“You know, the limbus.”

“No, I don’t know. You’re talking in circles. Take a slow, deep breath and tell me about the limbus.”

Inhale
,
hold . . . and exhale.
“I don’t really want to talk about the limbus right now. Duncan’s got that covered. He’s preparing a full report. Did you know he hates me? At least he did, but after I saved his life from the zombie fungus he owed it to me, so we made a truce.”

Vee rubbed sleep from her eyes. “Wait, I thought you said
you
almost died?”

It was like she wasn’t even listening! “I did. Saving Duncan’s life. Now, since we’re indentured to one another, we decided to be friends.”

“You’re still talking a mile a minute.” Vee winced and rubbed at her ear. “How about you take a shower while I order tea. Then we can try this again?”

“Sure. But could you make mine a latte?” Based on her inability to follow the conversation, she obviously needed to caffeinate her brain. Normally Vee didn’t need a schematic to keep up — maybe we were just out of rhythm from being apart for so long.

Regardless, a shower sounded fantabulous. “And do you have something I could wear? Something comfy — because after that never-ending trek, I’m chaffed in places I didn’t even know were places.”

Vee flashed me a luminous smile. “I have something I think you’ll like. I’ll set it out for you.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed my dirty canvas bag and headed into Vee’s royal powder room . . . which made Duncan’s bathroom look like a primitive port-a-potty. There was a huge walk-in shower and a giant tub on a raised dais in the corner that was surrounded by ornate, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the Scottish countryside. The entire room was tiled in cream with blue and green accents and the MacCrae lion crest.

One of the most pleasant discoveries during my first trip to Doon was the indoor plumbing. I took my time in the shower, letting the hot water cleanse me of all the drama from the last year. I envisioned the water washing away my past, carrying it down the drain and out to sea until I felt clean. A half hour later, I stepped from the bathroom a new person and wearing the cutest lavender maxi dress, which, other than being a smidge tight in the hips and chest, fit me perfectly.

I passed through Vee’s bedroom and into the fully lit living space — which my bestie had definitely made her own. The room was primarily white with purple and crystal accents. I suspected that when the sun hit the space just right, it lit up like Narnia in winter. She looked up from her book as I entered, and I did a slow twirl for her. “Love this!”

Vee beamed at me. “I thought you might. Later we can head to the boutique in the village and pick some up in your size.”

“There’s a boutique in Doon? How did I miss that?”

“It’s new. I found a very talented seamstress who can make anything I describe to her. I had her design a few items, and the next thing I know, all the young girls in the kingdom were copying my style. I feel like Jackie Kennedy.”

“Didn’t she wear old retro styles, like dress suits and pearls and stuff?” I flounced the skirt of my strappy dress, which looked nothing like the 60s. “This looks totally modern.”

Vee rolled her eyes at me. “Anyway, the seamstress got so many requests that she opened a shop.”

“What’s it called? Vee’s Vestments?”

For the first time, a note of chagrin tainted her pride. “Close. Royal Regalia.”

“You trendsetter. Remember that outfit you wore for sixth grade pictures? Within a week, every girl in middle school was wearing a long shirt belted high on the waist with leggings.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” Vee set her book on the coffee table and handed me a steaming mug of java before picking up her own cup. “Let’s try this again.”

“Sure. Where do you want to start?”

She took a sip of tea as the wheels in her beautiful brain turned. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

“Okay. After we defeated the witch, I went back home. Then I had about a week to pack and find an apartment before my internship started. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find a decent place to live in Chicago. Oh, my dad is dating someone and he brought her to see my show. I thought it would be weird, but she’s really nice.”

Vee tilted her head. “Where does your dad think you are now?”

“Aunt Gracie’s cottage.” I blew into my mug. “He knows I’m with a boy, so I doubt he’ll worry if he doesn’t hear from me for a while. Speaking of boys, thanks for coaching Duncan on all things modern — even if he only came to get me because he was following your orders, I appreciated the first class.”

As I swallowed a mouthful of coffee, Vee looked at me quizzically. “I gave Duncan lots of suggestions, but only one order, not to take no for an answer. I didn’t force him to go get you. He volunteered.”

“Oh.” There were many reasons a guy would volunteer for
an unpleasant task — especially if evil seemed to be spreading across his kingdom. It didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to see me again. “Sorry. What were we talking about?”

“You were going to tell me about your trip.”

“Right.” I told Vee about the Brig o’ Doon with the zombie crow and going through the mountains in my pajamas. I described Duncan nearly dying and how unseen hands had come to my aid when I had risked my life to save him. I explained about the barn and Elsie’s unwanted adoration. And I finished with the part about Duncan and me calling a truce.

Vee poured herself another cup of tea, carefully adding milk and sugar as she asked, “Do you think Duncan’s really okay with you guys being friends?”

After a moment’s thought, I nodded. “Yes. And I’ll take it. When he first showed up in my dressing room — he was so not himself. Distant and cold. And the whole boyfriend thing only made it worse, ya know?”

“No, I don’t know. You’re talking in Kenna circles again.”

In my haste to tell her about the fungus, I neglected to fill her in about Duncan’s and my reunion in Chicago. “Sorry. He thinks I have a boyfriend.”

“Who?”

“Duncan.”

“No. Who does Duncan think is your boyfriend?”

“Weston Ballard, the director — ”

“The hottie from your internship?”

“Turns out, he’s not so hot.” Memories of him wrenching my arm caused my stomach to sour. “Or a nice guy. In fact, he’s a total creeper.”

“So why would Duncan think that Weston is your boyfriend?”

My coffee, which had stopped agreeing with me, suddenly
threatened to come back up. I set my half-f mug on the table. “Maybe because Wes introduced himself as my boyfriend.”

“And why would Weston do that?”

“Because . . . we were kinda dating.”

“Kenna!”

“Don’t ‘Kenna’ me. I went out with him to get over Duncan, but it didn’t work — and then I was stuck playing Wes’s girlfriend so I could keep my lead in the show. Which I lost anyway once Duncan appeared.”

“So why didn’t you tell Duncan that?”

“Don’t you think I tried? He won’t let me explain.”

“You hurt him, Ken.” Her brows pinched apologetically. “He’s going to need time to get over it.”

“For the Love of Lerner and Loewe, it’s been almost a year.”

She shook her ponytail at me. “It’s been two-and-a-half months here.”