Wanted: Royal Wife and Mother

by Marion Lennox

  Kass had walked past and had stopped dead. ‘He’s not to stay here,’ he’d said harshly, speaking to Laura and not directly to his uncle. ‘It upsets the staff. It makes me feel sick. He’s not to come within sight of the castle.’

  That one vicious order had been enough to make Rafael’s father return to the house. He’d died two months later, without having set foot in the garden again.

  Rafael had made that vow as well. There was no way he ever intended to be of use to royalty. He wouldn’t set foot in the castle. He’d hoped his mother would move. She hadn’t and their access to each other had become confined to Laura’s visits to the States.

  And now, like it or not, here he was-of use to royalty as his father had once been of use to the old Prince and to Kass. It made him feel ill.

  And tonight he’d kissed Kass’s wife.

  Why?

  It was a web, he thought, a fine, gossamer web drawing him in tighter and tighter. Conscience and duty had him stuck here.

  Like Kelly was stuck.

  She wasn’t stuck, he thought savagely. She could stay up in her attic and be an academic and not do anything, not be a part of it. Or do as she’d done tonight, emerge from her attic for a moment and then retreat the moment things got intense.

  So why had he kissed her?

  ‘Because I’m a fool,’ he told the darkness and he rolled over in the royal bed and thought he could roll over six or seven times and not reach the edge.

  ‘It’s ludicrous.

  ‘It’s life as you’ll know it for the next twenty years,’ he said grimly. ‘So get used to it. And keep your hands off that woman!’

  CHAPTER SIX

  K ELLY woke to the sound of shouting in the forecourt. For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was-the strange bed and the thick stone walls and narrow casement windows confused her. Then, as the events of the last few days flooded back, her bedroom door was flung open and Matty launched himself across her bed.

  ‘Uncle Rafael’s toys are here,’ he said. ‘Mama, come and see. Come and see.’

  ‘I don’t…’

  ‘You have to come,’ he said before she could protest. ‘There’s pancakes for breakfast and Cook’s made heaps and heaps ’cos the truck drivers have come all the way from the border this morning and Anna’s here and she’s really crabby and I’ll sit on your bed and wait for you to get dressed.’

  She stared at her little son, helpless in the face of his enthusiasm. How could she tell him she’d been thinking of putting a little kitchenette up here, so that she didn’t have to go down to the royal kitchens?

  What sort of mother would say that?

  He wanted her to come.

  She peered through the casement. Men were unloading vast crates, carrying them into the main entrance.

  ‘Where’s Rafael?’

  ‘He’s in the dungeons,’ Matty said with relish, as if the dungeons were truly gruesome. ‘Cook said once upon a time there were ghosts in our dungeons with clanking chains, but Uncle Rafael said that the best way to get rid of ghosts is to bury them with sawdust. He’s working already. Anna says he’s burying his head in the sand but I think he’s burying it in sawdust.’

  ‘Well,’ Kelly said cautiously, digesting this with care. She’d spent a lot of time figuring things out before she’d gone to sleep. Rafael had kissed her. Rafael was a de Boutaine. The man was obviously a womaniser, just like Kass.

  She could deal with this situation, she thought. Disdain-that was the way to go. And distance.

  ‘Maybe if Rafael’s working I can come down to breakfast.’

  ‘And then come to the stables?’ Matty pleaded. ‘Will you come riding?’

  ‘I don’t ride,’ she said flatly. She pushed back her bedcovers. The silk dress was draped over the bedside chair. She pushed it back so it fell on to the floor behind, out of sight. ‘Sorry, Matty, but that’s an absolute.’

  It was like a vast family. The huge kitchen was filled with people and noise and food.

  For Kelly, whose only experience at the castle was silence, fear and formality, the sight that met her eyes as she walked into the kitchen was almost astonishing.

  There was a big, buxom woman flipping pancakes in the world’s biggest frying-pan on the vast electric range. There were two younger girls, one stirring what seemed to be a vat of batter, the other peeling a mound of potatoes a foot high. The men Kelly had seen carting the crates were seated at one end of the table, wrapping themselves round mounds of the pancakes, looking as if all their Christmases had come at once. Laura was there, talking to a man Kelly recognized as Crater. Crater. The sight of him made her flinch. She hadn’t seen him since she’d arrived yesterday.

  There was a younger woman as well-tall, almost statuesque, looking svelte in cream linen trousers and a lovely Aran pullover. Her blonde hair was piled high in an elegantly casual knot, she wore fabulous, dangling silver earrings and she looked amazing.

  Kelly recognized her from the photograph she’d seen on the Internet-Anna.

  ‘I’ve brought Mama down to breakfast,’ Matty said in his clear voice, and everyone in the kitchen turned and looked at her. Kelly wanted to run.

  But Matty had her hand and was tugging her forward. ‘I said we were having pancakes so she came,’ he said and Crater rose from his seat next to Laura and came round the table with his hand outstretched in welcome.

  ‘Princess Kellyn. Your Highness.’

  ‘Kelly,’ she whispered, and dropped Matty’s hand and backed instinctively away. The last time she’d talked to this man he’d been talking through the impossibility of her ever seeing her son again. She couldn’t bear it.

  ‘I need to apologise,’ the elderly man said softly, but Anna was suddenly there, standing beside Crater, looking belligerent.

  ‘Hell, no,’ she said. ‘Don’t apologise to this woman. She’s stuffed my life.’

  ‘Hey,’ Rafael said from the doorway behind her. He’d come in behind her without her hearing. ‘She’s stuffed whose life?’

  ‘Everyone’s,’ Anna said. ‘Every single one of our kids.’

  ‘Whose kids?’ Kelly asked blankly.

  ‘Twenty kids thinking he’s their hero,’ Anna said bitterly. ‘Twenty kids…’

  ‘Who now need to swap their allegiance to you,’ Rafael told her.

  ‘I don’t do kids,’ Anna said flatly. ‘I run a business. A business, Rafael, not a damned charity. Here you are, hauling the personal stuff over here, and if you think…’

  ‘I absolutely think,’ Rafael said and put his arms round her and hugged her.

  But Anna hadn’t finished with her grievance yet. She swiped his hands away and glowered. ‘Don’t you try your sweet-talk on me. Richard’s having all sorts of fits-he didn’t even want me to come now. And how the hell Kelly got you here…’

  ‘I don’t think I know what’s going on,’ Kelly said.

  ‘That’s because you haven’t had breakfast,’ Laura said calmly, rising from the table and handing her a warmed plate. ‘Wrap yourself round some pancakes.’

  ‘Then you can come down and see what I have in my dungeons. Meanwhile, we need to stop Anna being mean to you,’ Rafael said. ‘Come on, Anna, you can handle it. It’s not like I had any choice.’

  ‘Because of Kelly.’ Anna glowered. ‘You said you’d just need to spend a little time here for ceremonial duties, that all you had to do was persuade Kellyn to take over her rightful role and you could fade into the background again. Someone take that woman’s pancakes away from her.’

  ‘Not on your life,’ Kelly said, concentrating on the only thing she could understand. Cook was ladling a stack of hot pancakes on to her plate and they smelled extraordinary. She didn’t have a clue what was happening between Rafael and Anna, but guilt was hovering, ready to pounce.

  She didn’t have to accept it. She didn’t have to find out what Anna was talking about, she told herself. Rafael’s life was none of her business. She sat at the far end of the table,
one of the truckers handed her a jug of maple syrup and she got down to business.

  ‘I knew you’d like pancakes,’ Matty said, pleased, and she smiled at his pleasure. This was her business-making her son smile.

  The kitchen felt great, she thought as she ate. It was big and warm and friendly. She didn’t feel out of place back in her jeans and baggy sweater. Even Anna’s hostility seemed not particularly hostile-more resigned.

  It was none of her business but some things seemed impossible. Maybe she could just ask…

  ‘So you two have twenty children?’ she ventured cautiously, and Rafael choked.

  ‘Right. You see what you’ve done?’

  ‘They might as well be your kids,’ Anna retorted, unabashed. ‘For all the trouble you’ve put into them.’

  ‘I don’t have twenty kids,’ Rafael said. ‘I have a sheltered workshop which employs twenty disabled young men and women.’

  ‘Who are currently ready to hate the Princess Kellyn of Alp de Ciel,’ Anna said. ‘Because you’ve taken away their precious Rafael.’

  ‘Oh,’ Kelly said in a small voice.

  ‘He had to come away anyway,’ Laura said.

  ‘Not all the time, he didn’t,’ Anna said. ‘When Kass died he said he might have to spend a bit more time here. Not all the time.’

  ‘So it’s my fault,’ Kelly said.

  ‘Yes,’ Anna retorted. Kelly thought about it. Rafael was looking at her as if he was quite happy for her to take the blame. How unfair was that?

  ‘You’d think someone could have told me,’ she said bluntly and fixed him with a look that put the blame right back where it belonged.

  He didn’t look the least bit guilty. He grinned. His grin made her feel warm from the toes up.

  Ridiculous!

  ‘You didn’t tell her?’ Anna demanded, turning back to Rafael.

  ‘What was I supposed to tell her?’ Rafael asked.

  ‘How I’m dependent on you.’

  ‘I told Kelly I had a partner.’

  ‘Just not twenty kids.’

  ‘It seemed a bit over-dramatic.’

  ‘Rafael makes toys,’ Laura said, taking pity on Kelly’s confusion. ‘Rafael has the most wonderful sheltered workshop in the world. He’s built it up from one tiny idea, and now they export all over the world.’

  ‘Robo-Craft,’ Kelly said. ‘He did tell me that.’ She frowned. So what hadn’t he told her? Her ultimatum had real repercussions, not just for Rafael? She set down her knife and fork, her appetite suddenly gone.

  ‘It’s not like I’m closing down,’ Rafael told her quickly. ‘I’m just moving development here. Production will stay in Manhattan, overseen by Anna.’

  ‘Who keeps trying to run the business like a business,’ Anna said, sighing theatrically. ‘Only production’s dropped already, as everyone loves Rafael.’

  ‘And now they have to learn to love Anna,’ Rafael said. ‘And they will.’

  ‘So…’ Kelly swallowed. There was a lot here to think about and she didn’t know whether she had it right yet. ‘So when I said you had to stay here…’

  ‘Then I had to reorganize my business,’ Rafael said. ‘Which I’ve done.’

  ‘And Anna’s your…?’

  ‘Business partner,’ Anna said bluntly. ‘More fool me. I’m an accountant.’

  ‘Not your…partner-partner?’

  ‘No,’ Anna said, astonished. ‘Why would you think that? I’d have brained him ten years ago if he was my partner-partner. Any sane woman would. Now my Richard-who is my partner-partner-is threatening to brain him for me.’

  ‘Oh,’ Kelly said. She was starting to feel wobbly.

  Last night had seemed fraught. Dangerous. But last night she’d thought Rafael was messing around, being a typical de Boutaine, because Rafael had a partner.

  This morning she’d discovered that Anna was his business partner. And she’d discovered more. That Rafael had some truly noble motives in there among his de Boutaine blood.

  Last night she’d thought Rafael was sexy but a de Boutaine.

  Now…now she just thought he was sexy. Clever. Skilled. Kind.

  Unattached.

  Very, very sexy.

  She suddenly felt really, really exposed. The kitchen was too warm. It was almost claustrophobic.

  She pushed her pancakes away.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Laura asked, watching her with concern.

  ‘I didn’t want to blackmail anyone to come here.’

  ‘If you did, we’re very grateful to you,’ Crater said, smiling on her with approval. ‘We need Rafael to run this principality. Someone has to take on the Crown.’

  ‘But that’s me,’ Matty piped up. ‘You said I’m the Crown Prince. This country is my res…responsibility.’

  ‘Which Rafael will take care of for you until you’re of age,’ Crater told him gravely.

  ‘You said I have to look after my people. I am the Prince.’

  It silenced them all-this wisp of a child calmly accepting a burden that Rafael and Kelly would do anything to avoid.

  Kelly stared down at her half-eaten pancakes, gulped and hauled the plate back in front of her. Maybe she couldn’t bolt to her garret quite yet. But the pancakes didn’t taste as good.

  ‘You’ve taught Matty his royal duties?’ Rafael asked Crater.

  Crater nodded unhappily. ‘He’s had lessons.’

  ‘Not from his father.’

  ‘No. But Kass has hardly been here. I’ve taken it upon myself…’

  ‘To load Matty with the burden of the Crown.’

  ‘There was hardly a choice,’ Crater said. ‘I could never have predicted what’s happened. This country’s desperate for leadership. Thankfully, now it’s up to you.’

  Oh, help, Kelly thought.

  Until now she’d hardly seen Rafael, she thought bleakly. Or she had seen him but she’d seen a de Boutaine.

  Now, he stood alone, a big man, loose-limbed, dressed in casual trousers, an open-necked shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a streak of grease on his forehead.

  He looked vulnerable, she thought suddenly. He looked as if he were backed into a corner he hated.

  She could retire to her garret when she wished. He couldn’t.

  ‘You don’t have to worry.’ Matty was clearly trying hard to understand what was going on. He came to his big cousin’s side and slipped his hand into Rafael’s before Rafael could guess what he intended. ‘You can make your toys and I’ll be the Prince. My mama will help me be the Prince.’

  ‘Your mama intends to stay in her attic and read her books.’

  ‘You might persuade her to come out a bit,’ Anna said, enthusiastic again. ‘For long enough to let Rafael come back to Manhattan and make his kids happy from time to time.’

  ‘My life’s here,’ Rafael said, sounding as if it were a life sentence.

  ‘But you will help,’ Matty said to Kelly and she swallowed.

  ‘I…of course. When I can.’

  But she was suddenly much more unsure than she had been last night. Dressing up last night had seemed…well, even a little bit of fun. But to go any further, and to do it by Rafael’s side when…when Anna wasn’t his partner…

  ‘I want you to ride with me,’ Matty said and her heart closed-snap-like a clam closing on expected pain.

  ‘Matty, I can’t.’

  ‘You can’t ride?’

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘There’s lots of that about,’ Laura said sadly, standing and starting to clear plates. ‘Let’s just take each day as it comes. Starting now. We’ll get these trucks unpacked and that’ll make Rafael happy. He’ll have his dungeons to play in.’

  ‘And Mama will stay in her attic,’ Matty said. ‘Aunt Laura, it’s you and me who’ll have to be Prince and Princess.’

  ‘Aren’t you the lucky ones?’ Anna said and smiled, but Laura looked at her son’s partner as if she were a sandwich short of a picnic.

  ‘Anna,
I’m afraid you don’t have a clue what these two are fighting,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, my dears, I wish I could help. But Matty…yes, until Rafael and your mama work themselves out then I guess we’re it.’

  In the end, keeping herself to herself was easy. She just had to be ruthless. She just had to say no firmly to Matty and walk away.

  The castle libraries were amazing. Distressed and confused on that first morning, while Laura took Matty down to the stables to chat to the horses and to listen to his adventures in Australia, Kelly roamed the shelves and found tomes and documents and charts that could keep a historian happy for a century or more.

  She blocked out the sound of Matty’s voice drifting up from the courtyard. She blocked out the sound of the men’s voices unloading the trucks, Rafael giving orders, Anna arguing…

  The gong sounded for lunch but she’d already warned Cook and Matty that she seldom stopped for lunch. She didn’t want to be part of that big familiar kitchen again. She worked on, trying to figure where to start. Maybe cataloguing to begin with. Mindless work while she got her bearings.

  At about three in the afternoon she decided the castle was silent and she might conceivably have the kitchen to herself. She went down to make herself a sandwich.

  She didn’t have the kitchen to herself. Rafael was seated alone at the vast table. He had a bottle of beer before him, and the remnants of a sandwich.

  She blinked. Prince Regent of Alp de Ciel with a beer and a sandwich?

  He looked up as she entered, like a kid who’d been caught in a crime.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, suppressing an involuntary smile, and tried to back out.

  ‘I know. I should be eating caviare patties and drinking champagne,’ he said mournfully. ‘But I kinda like beer. I’m happy to share, though. I’m not sure where the caviare is, but the makings of sandwiches are in the first refrigerator.’

  ‘I don’t need…’

  ‘If you’re like me, you do need. It’s just the whole company bit that worries you.’

  She hesitated. Okay, it would be surly to back away now. She might as well eat. ‘So why does it worry you?’ she asked.