by Donna Alward
He nodded. “I’m sorry I got maudlin.”
“Entirely understandable,” she answered briskly. She stood and held out her hand. “How steady are you? How long have you been sitting out here, sipping from your flask?”
He grinned up at her, looking as goofy as it was possible for the very proper prince to look. “Long enough.”
Raoul put his hand on the arm of the bench and pushed himself upright, but she saw him reel unsteadily as he found his feet. The last thing he needed was to be seen staggering into the palace, or wandering through the gardens and taking a wrong turn on the paths. She slid up beside him and linked her arm with his. “Okay,” she said cheerfully. “Upsy daisy and on we go.”
He laughed, took a misstep, and stumbled on the path. Rose smiled secretly, and put her arm around his waist, for once not worrying about protocol around him. With Diego she forgot about it all the time. But not with Raoul or his father.
“I apologize,” he said soberly. “This isn’t like me at all.”
“I certainly didn’t have you pegged as a drinker,” she replied easily. “But everyone is entitled to a weak moment or two, Raoul. You’ve earned yours. And there’s no one to see but me, and I won’t breathe a word.”
He nodded and staggered a bit, but she kept her arm around him to help him stay on his feet.
“It’s just that I miss her,” he said, the ‘s’ sound drawn out just the slightest bit in each word. Worse than the slur was the melancholy behind the words.
“Of course you do. But I do hope you’ll be happy again someday. You’re too young to be alone forever.” She gave him a little nudge. “Granted, you don’t have much to offer a lady, but you might be able to scratch up some woman willing to take you on.”
He stopped, stared at her a moment, and then chuckled. And the chuckle turned into a laugh, and she smiled widely. Teasing him had been a bit of a gamble, but it was good to see him smile.
“Thank you, Rose,” he said, sighing at the end of his laughter. He clumsily folded her into a hug. “I can see why Diego cares for you so much. Don’t worry about Father and me. It won’t be our first scandal and it certainly won’t be our last. It will just require a plan to ease things in, yes?” He stood back. “We should have a family meeting and decide how to proceed.”
Rose bit down on her lip, suddenly feeling overwhelmed again, particularly since Raoul was echoing Diego’s earlier thoughts. “Easing things in sounds okay,” she admitted. “It might save me from a panic attack or two.”
He smiled again and then leaned down and kissed her cheek. “And we will sort out the children, too. They’ll be delighted. They love their tio Diego.”
She linked her arm with his again. “Come, let’s get you inside. We both need our beauty rest.”
It didn’t take too long for them to reach the doors. “Are you all right now?” she asked, wanting to avoid being seen helping Raoul anywhere. Far better to be discreet.
“I can manage. You?”
“Oh, I’m right as rain, sir.”
She turned to leave when his voice stopped her. “Rose?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Thank you. For what you said. For being so good for our family.”
Happiness warmed her from head to toe. “It’s my pleasure. Truly.”
She left him there, knowing he’d be fine to make it back to his chambers.
And upstairs Diego waited for her. She wasn’t sure what she would say or do when she got there, but talking to Raoul had at least allayed her fears a little. The family would help them, and it would all be okay.
* * *
Diego slipped out of bed and let Rose sleep. It was only just after five; he could make it back to his room without being seen. They didn’t need to invite unnecessary gossip. But today, once the dust had settled, he would sit down with his father and brother and they’d come up with a plan. For now, she deserved some extra sleep.
As quietly as he could, he slipped on his trousers and white shirt, and grabbed his shoes and socks. He gave one last, tender look at the form sleeping beneath the cozy duvet. Her casual, black clothes were in a small heap on the floor. He’d awakened when she’d come back into the room, not realizing she’d ever left. And she’d quietly stripped and climbed back into bed with him, curling her soft, strong body next to his back, spoon-fashion. Her contented sigh had told him everything was all right, so he’d closed his eyes and they’d gone back to sleep.
The hall was dim and quiet as he pulled the door gently closed with a soft click of the latch. He met no one as he went back to his suite, and once inside he stripped and took a hot shower. The agenda for the day was a light one after the ball, and he dressed semi-casually—no jeans or T-shirts, but pressed trousers and a collared shirt rolled up at the elbows. His hair was still damp when there was a knock at his door.
Smiling, he wondered if Rose had heard him leave and come after him. He swung open the door and saw . . .
Stephani. With a very grim set to her lips and a frazzled look about her eyes.
“What’s going on? It’s not even six.”
“I got a call about an hour ago. Today’s paper. You can bet it’ll be in the tabloids as well.”
He stared down at the black-and-white image at the center of the newspaper she held out. A New Mother for the Prince and Princess? shouted the headline, and the photo showed Raoul, locked in an embrace with a woman wearing dark clothes and sporting a blond ponytail. In smaller print, beneath the picture, was a line that was even worse. Crown Prince shakes off mourning during birthday celebrations with unknown guest at the palace.
“It’s Rose,” he said numbly.
“It is?”
He nodded. “I’ll explain more when we’re all together. I take it father and Raoul have been shown this as well?”
“Your father has, and is going to be in his office in ten minutes. Raoul was harder to wake, and for the first time in my memory, he cursed at me.” Diego frowned and she amended, “Not at me, in particular. Just at the picture. Then he held his head as if it might fall off.”
“He was drinking?”
“Apparently. Can you meet with us as well? Damage control is going to be front and center today, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll be right there.” He gave a grim smile. “And make sure there’s lots of coffee. Though I expect Raoul has sobered up rather quickly.”
After Stephani’s departure, Diego grabbed his phone and did a quick internet search. The gossip sites were picking up the picture already. Those headlines were horrendous, too. Raoul hadn’t been a widower that long. The vultures were circling and they were going to be merciless. What about the children? appeared more than once, and Diego winced.
He slid his phone into his pocket and made the walk to the office wing of the castle. A plan had already started to form in his mind, and time was of the essence. Before entering his father’s domain, he made a quick call to Camila and asked her to come to the office as soon as possible. Then he took a deep breath, let it out, and opened the door to his father’s inner sanctum. His whole life he’d dreaded coming through this door; it usually meant he’d done something wrong. But today that would change. Today he’d do something right . . . because he was finally needed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Rose woke and stretched, then looked over at the space beside her. Diego was gone. She wasn’t sure if she should be upset that he hadn’t woke her first, or touched that he’d let her sleep after their long night.
She stared at the ceiling and smiled. First Diego, then the support of his brother . . . for the first time, she felt as if things might actually fall into place.
That she might actually be able to be with Diego. A bloody prince, for God’s sake! She giggled a little and rolled herself up in the covers, indulging in a few moments of girlish triumph. But the truth was, the prince thing just felt weird. She’d discovered the Navarro family to be kind, generous, and hardworking. Certainly they lived according to their status
, but there was no extravagance simply for showing off. The qualities of honor, duty, and loyalty to the family were threads that kept everything together.
It was a privilege to work here. And a dream come true to be loved by a man like Diego. That they might have a future . . .
She couldn’t wait to see him later, but first she had the children to tend to. She got out of bed and hit the shower, then dressed and prepared to take the children downstairs for breakfast. Rose thought she noticed some strange looks headed her way from some of the staff, but she ignored them for the moment. It had probably got around that she’d danced with Diego last night. Sitting with the children at a banquet was different than dancing with a prince, after the children had gone to bed. As Raoul had assured her, they’d come up with a plan.
It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that she wondered if something was wrong. Clouds had swept in during the late morning, and now a low rumble of thunder and the threat of rain kept them indoors. Normally Diego would pop by to see Emilia and Max shortly before two o’clock, but as the minutes ticked by and he didn’t arrive, a sense of unease put her nerves on edge. At three Max fell asleep watching a movie and Emilia looked to be right behind him, as they’d had a later night than usual at their father’s party. Their tea arrived, carried by Ernestina. The maid smiled tightly and put the tray on the table, but Rose reached out and touched her wrist.
“Ernestina, is there something going on? We’ve hardly seen a soul all day.” She swallowed and met the maid’s eyes bravely. “Is there . . . any gossip I should be aware of?”
That the maid hesitated spoke volumes.
“What is it?” She looked over at the children. They had both nodded off and wouldn’t hear any details.
“This morning’s paper. You haven’t seen it?”
Rose shook her head, wishing she didn’t have such a heavy sense of dread. “We went to breakfast but I didn’t see a paper, and we’ve stayed inside most of the day because of the weather.”
“It . . . oh, Miss.” Ernestina looked genuinely distressed. “None of the staff believes any of it. Just remember that when you see it.”
“When I see what, Ernestina.” She didn’t bother to phrase it as a question; instead the words came out forceful and frustrated.
When the maid didn’t answer, Rose let out a huge sigh. “Please stay with the children for a few minutes,” she instructed. “I’ll explain to the Senora Romero so you don’t get into trouble, and be back as soon as I can.”
“But Miss Rose—”
She didn’t wait to hear Ernestina’s protests. The atmosphere had seemed oddly strained and clearly she wasn’t imagining things. The first thing she needed was a newspaper to see what all the fuss was about. Then she’d figure out why Diego had avoided her all day. Her heart chilled for a moment. He’d said he loved her last night. She’d believed him. She’d been right to, hadn’t she?
The office area was quiet, and Rose went to Camila’s office first, searching for Diego. But his assistant was on the phone, and she looked alarmed when she saw Rose standing in the doorway. She held up one finger, but Rose waved her off and headed to Stephani’s desk.
Stephani was focusing on her computer monitor when Rose approached, and the same look of alarm crossed her features before she consciously smoothed it away. More worrisome to Rose was the flash of sympathy on the other woman’s face.
“Stephani,” Rose said carefully. “Camila is on the phone. Is Diego in?”
“I’m sorry, no.”
The dread tightened into a painful ball in the center of her chest. “And Raoul?”
“With the king, in Alexander’s office.”
“Steph, what’s going on? Everyone’s looking at me sideways today. Diego hasn’t been to visit the children, and I know something’s wrong. What could have happened between last night and this morning?”
The look of pity was back, and Stephani handed over a copy of the newspaper.
The ball of dread, along with all the feeling in her body, seemed to drop right to her feet. She knew right away the moment the photo had been taken. When Raoul had hugged her in the garden, and then kissed her cheek. Her face wasn’t visible, but his was, if a bit grainy. And there was the stupid ponytail that she’d pulled her hair into before going out to the gardens.
She read the headline and wasn’t sure if she wanted to weep or ball up the paper and heave it into the trash where it belonged.
“Everyone’s seen it?” Her voice came out sort of strangled, and she cleared her throat.
“Yes.”
“And they think that I . . .” Oh Lord. Did the staff really believe she was fooling around with Raoul? It was Diego who’d captured her heart. Ernestina had said not, but . . .
“You need to speak with Raoul and the king,” Stephani advised in a low voice.
“But Diego . . .”
“Diego isn’t here, Rose. He’s gone.”
The cold feeling rushed back, and she actually felt herself weave a little bit. She put her hand on the side of the desk for support.
Stephani got her a chair and sat her in it, then brought her a glass of water. “Don’t say anything more here,” she said quietly.
“Why not?”
“Take a look at that picture again, Rose. Then maybe you’ll understand. I’ll let them know you’re here.”
Rose looked at the photo again. It wasn’t a great picture, and enlarged it was indeed quite grainy. With her back to the lens, her identity was shielded to anyone who didn’t know her.
With her back to the lens. But her back had been toward the castle wall . . .
She looked up at Stephani. “Oh. I see.”
“I thought you might. Come with me, please.”
She led Rose to the king’s office, which was even grander than Raoul’s. Intimidated and unsure of herself, Rose stepped inside and dropped into a curtsy.
“Good afternoon, Rosalie. Please, come in and sit down.” Alexander swept a hand out and gestured toward a tufted chair to the side of his massive desk.
It was like being called to the headmaster’s office.
“Don’t be afraid,” Raoul said gently, and she belatedly noticed him standing beside a bookcase. “None of this is your fault. You were caught in the crossfire, and we’ll make sure you come out of it unscathed.”
Slightly reassured, she perched on the edge of the velvet upholstery. “I am so sorry,” she breathed, looking first at Alexander and then at Raoul. “Last night—“
“Last night you were a friend when I needed one. I don’t usually have that much to drink, and you listened to me and helped me inside. I’m indebted to you, Rose, not angry.”
He was using her first name. That, too, was reassuring.
“The photo,” she said carefully. “It was taken from inside the castle, wasn’t it? Not with some huge telephoto lens from the paps.”
Alexander nodded gravely. “Yes. We’re not sure if it was one of the staff or someone hired for the event who hadn’t left yet.” He frowned. “If it was someone here, within our household, this might not be the end of it. There’s more story to sell, you see.”
“More?” She tilted her head. “You don’t think the insinuation and photo was enough?”
Raoul came over and took the seat next to her. “They would have seen your face, Rose.”
And her identity, so they could feed the tabloids more and more. That she was the children’s nanny. Perhaps even her relationship with Diego. They’d been discreet but not invisible. “I should resign,” she said quickly. “Then the story will go away.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Alexander said.
She looked into the older man’s face. It was clear where his sons got their good looks, and the determined set of his jaw was very much like Diego’s when he got something in his mind and wouldn’t let go. “I appreciate that, sir, but for Emilia and Max’s sake, maybe it would be for the best.”
“And take away another person they’ve come to love
? I think not. We’ll handle this the way we always handle things in our family. Head-on.”
Raoul nodded. “We’re looking at all the time stamps for vehicles leaving the grounds after two a.m. There aren’t many. Stephani is also checking logs with Marco, as he and his staff did stay on duty until the last guest had gone.”
“But it doesn’t make the story disappear. And it doesn’t explain why Diego isn’t here, either.” She checked herself and met the king’s gaze. “I apologize, sir. I seem to have abandoned the proper protocol.”
His gaze softened and she would swear he got the same sympathetic look that Stephani had given her only a few minutes earlier. “Rose, it’s no secret to either of us that you and Diego have formed an attachment.”
Her cheeks flamed.
“None of us can control who we love. No one knows that better than I. Even when it makes life ten times more complicated.”
“I see.”
“Diego has left for Africa. There’s been an ongoing issue with one of his charities that needs his attention, and he also has a friend meeting him there. Ryan.”
She scrambled through her memories of their chats. Ryan—his mate from universitywho got him in and out of scrapes. “I know who you mean. But why Ryan?”
“To bury the story,” Raoul said. “Didn’t he explain before he left?”
“I haven’t seen or spoken to him all day. Not since . . .” She swallowed, realizing she was speaking to King and Crown Prince and not just brother and father. “Not since before I saw you in the garden.”
Alexander and Raoul shared a look.
Then Raoul turned to her with that same pitying expression and the ball of dread bounced back.
“To bury the story, he’ll create a new story, Rose. He’ll put himself front and center and take the focus off of me and Marazur.”
“With . . . Ryan.”
