‘I can see that. But maybe your sensible side will out?’
She stared at him, nonplussed. The lurking twinkle was dangerous, she thought. Really dangerous.
Concentrate on practicalities. ‘But there’s passports and things…’
‘I have friends in high places. I can have passports in twenty-four hours.’
‘Twenty-four hours? Are you some kind of magician?’
‘Just a man who’s determined to have you see what you need to see.’
She was dumbfounded. ‘But…the cows,’ she whispered at last, and Max grinned as if that was the last quibble out of the way.
‘I talked to Bert. He’ll be more than happy to take over the milking for now. I gather he did it before? He’ll use his dairy and his vats are clean, so he can be paid for the milk. No obligation, he said, and why would there be? He’ll even milk Peculiar.’
‘You know Bert wants to buy us out. This is making it easier for him.’
‘Maybe it is but we’re making no promises,’ Max said evenly. ‘You’re just taking time to think. It won’t increase the pressure. Regardless of what you decide, these children are eligible for lifetime support from the royal coffers. You’ll never be hungry again. I promise.’ The grip on her hand strengthened, a warm, strong link that made her feel…wonderful. ‘I swear.’
She blinked and blinked again. She would not cry.
This was a fairy tale. She shouldn’t let herself be conned. But in truth…In truth she’d fallen from the roof last week and it had scared her witless. Not for herself so much as for the children. She was all they had. If anything happened to her…
She had to think about it.
And warmth…
‘Who else will be at the castle?’ she managed, trying desperately to focus on practicalities.
‘Servants.’
‘How many servants?’
‘Thirty or more. I’m not sure.’
Her eyes widened. She should pull her hands away, she thought desperately, but she sort of…couldn’t.
‘Your family?’ she whispered. ‘Your mother?’ She hesitated but she knew absolutely nothing of this man and there was one question that was pretty major waiting to be asked. ‘Your wife?’
‘My mother’s in Paris,’ he said evenly. ‘And I’m not married. But that’s of no importance as I won’t be at Alp d’Estella myself. I’ll escort you there and then leave.’
She blinked. He’d leave? ‘Why?’
‘I have no place in Alp d’Estella. It’s Marc who inherits. Not me.’
Her hand was withdrawn at that, hauled away before he could react and tucked firmly in the folds of her skirt, as if she was afraid he might try to reclaim it. He couldn’t. The fairy tale was dissipating. ‘Now, hang on a minute,’ she said. ‘You’re expecting to dump us and run?’
‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that.’ The twinkle faded.
‘How would you put it? You’ve given us all these assurances but if you’re not there how can I know they’ll be held good?’ She frowned. ‘Anyway, what does Prince Regent mean?’
‘It’s a caretaker role. I get to do the paperwork, and make decisions on behalf of the heir to the Crown until he’s of age. I can do that from Paris, mostly.’
‘But if you’re illegitimate-how can you be Regent?’
‘There’s no one else.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’ve only just had it explained to me myself,’ he said ruefully. ‘But it seems the Alp d’Estella constitution-or whatever they call it when it’s to do with royal succession-has a stipulation that the regency can be held by someone with blood ties to an heir to the throne. Parent, sibling or half-sibling. I guess it was drawn up in the days when death in childbirth was common, and so was death in battle. An older half-sister may well be all there was to care for the rights of a young prince.’
‘But…if your real father isn’t royal…’
‘That’s why I’m here four weeks after Bernard died and not before. I thought I had nothing to do with it. However there are people in Alp d’Estella desperate to see the current regime displaced. They realised the vague constitutional wording-blood ties to an heir rather than the heir-meant that I could take the regency on. If I don’t take it on, the politicians will, and there’s no way you could let Marc walk into that.’
‘So what do you get out of it?’
‘Nothing. But the country is desperate for decent rule.’ He hesitated. ‘Do you know anything about the Alp countries?’
‘Not much.’
‘They’re four principalities,’ he said, sighing, as if this was a tale he’d wearied of telling. ‘And they’ve been degenerate for generations. The princes running them come from a long line of families where indulgence is everything. We now have corrupt politicians who know the only way to advance is to please royalty. The Crown Prince of our nearest neighbour, Alp d’ Azuri, has set about changing that. Raoul-your Jessica’s husband-has used his sovereign powers to instil a democracy. The change is wonderful. That’s where the idea came from that change is possible, but it can’t be done unless Marc accepts the Crown.’
‘But Marc’s too young to decide.’
‘It doesn’t matter. Once he’s installed as Crown Prince, no matter how old he is, measures can be put in place to get the country on an even keel. He can forfeit the Crown later if he wants, but I do need time to get a proper parliament in place.’
‘You can do that?’
‘From the background, it seems that, yes, I can.’
Pippa sat back in her chair and stared at him. Awed. ‘You mean what I agree on, right now, right here, while I’m still thawing from milking, will affect the lives of…’
‘Millions. Yes, it will. But don’t let me pressure you.’
‘You’re mad.’
‘Yes, but I bought you steak and firewood and I helped you milk. I can’t be all bad.’
She shook her head, trying to clear her jumbled thoughts. ‘Don’t think you can inveigle me into doing stuff. I didn’t ask for help.’
‘I don’t want to inveigle you to do anything.’
‘Bully for you.’ Pippa was feeling so lost she didn’t know where she was. She picked up the toasting fork and absently held the half-cooked crumpet to the flames again. Then she put it down. She couldn’t concentrate.
‘All I know of this country is from you,’ she whispered.
‘That’s right. But I can give you assurances, and not just from me.’
‘But, you see, I’m all the children have,’ she said apologetically. ‘How can I put them at risk?’
‘You won’t be putting them at risk.’
‘But you won’t be there.’ She took a deep breath. ‘We could come,’ she admitted. ‘I might even be prepared to take a chance. But only if you were there.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘I have a life. My building-’
‘I had a life too once,’ she snapped. ‘My nursing. I’ve put my life on hold for these kids. So how important is forming a parliament? You’d put your life on hold for how long for this kingdom of yours?’
‘It’s a principality.’
‘Kingdom-principality-it makes no difference,’ she snapped. ‘But I won’t do this alone. It scares me stupid. I won’t let you guilt me into it because the country might starve, and then watch you walk away and leave me to do it alone. You’re a de Gautier. Illegitimate or not, you know the reputation of your family. Alice ran for a reason and I’m not as stupid as I look.’
‘I never said-’
‘You don’t have to say,’ Pippa said. ‘Stupid is as stupid does. You hold this place out to me like a carrot on the end of a stick. Warmth. Castles. Swimming pools. And you…a Prince Regent who looks like you stepped out of a romance movie, telling me I have to agree or the peasants will starve…’
‘You don’t think you’re being just a touch melodramatic?’
‘Of course I’m being mel
odramatic,’ she yelled, so loudly that Dolores was forced to raise her head in faint reproach.
‘There’s no need to yell,’ Max said, starting to sound exasperated, but she’d gone too far to draw back now.
‘There is. I have no guarantee that you care one bit about this little boy you barely know. Or his sisters. I won’t be bludgeoned into taking them to a country I don’t know, unless I have some cast-iron guarantees.’ She held up each finger in turn. ‘One, you agree that we’re staying for a month and only a month. We can all leave freely any time after that, and if the children are unhappy then we can leave earlier. Two, you organise that this farm will be cared for while we’re away. You seem to have enough money. Three, you agree that Marc is not to be made aware that anyone’s welfare depends on him. Four, you stay for the entire month. You leave whatever you do in Paris as you’re asking me to leave whatever I do here.’
‘That’s not f-’
‘Fair?’ she queried, and turned and shook the loaded toasting fork at him. ‘Who’s talking fair?’
She was gorgeous, he thought suddenly. She was just…gorgeous. She looked like an avenging angel, in faded serviceable clothes and wielding a toasting fork like a sword. Her cheeks were two bright spots of colour. Her eyes were flashing demons.
He thought…he thought…
He thought he wanted to kiss her.
Dumb move, he told himself desperately. Really, really dumb.
He really, really wanted to kiss her.
‘Well?’ she demanded and he tried to think what he should be thinking.
‘The castle is pure luxury,’ he said weakly. ‘There’s no need for me to stay.’
‘I don’t want you to stay,’ she said, surprising him, ‘but as guarantee of the children’s safety you must.’
He gazed at her, and she gazed back, meeting his look head-on and not flinching.
He still just wanted to kiss…
‘I do what I have to do,’ she said. ‘Do you?’
‘Yes, but-’
‘Then it’s settled. You’ll stay?’
‘I need-’
‘You’ll stay?’
‘Yes,’ he said, driven against the ropes and acknowledging he had no choice. ‘I’ll stay in Alp d’Estella, yes.’
‘Excellent,’ Pippa said and glowered. ‘Not that I want you near us, mind. You unsettle me.’
‘Do I?’ He started to smile, but she raised her toasting fork again.
‘I have no idea why you unsettle me and I don’t like it,’ she told him. ‘So stop smiling. It just unsettles me more. And there’s only one more stipulation that has to be met.’
‘Another!’
‘It’s the most important.’
‘What is it?’
She stared down at her feet. Dolores had rolled over onto her back, exposing her vast stomach to the radiant heat.
‘As long as we can figure out the quarantine issues, Dolores comes too. All or none. Take us or leave us.’
He stared down at the ancient mutt-a great brown dog looking like nothing so much as a Hound of the Baskervilles. A sleeping hound of the Baskervilles. ‘She’d be happier here.’
‘In the middle of winter? Kennelled without us?’
‘Most dogs-’
‘She’s not most dogs. Alice gave me Dolores as a puppy when my mother died. She’s been with me ever since-my one true love. Who needs men when I have Dolores?’ She retrieved the half-baked crumpet, looked at it with regret and started another. ‘Wicked waste.’
‘Taking a dog to Alp d’Estella?’
‘Interrupting the toasting process. It really messes with the texture. Let’s get back to important stuff.’
‘Which is?’
‘Crumpets.’
‘Sure.’
But he still really, really wanted to kiss her.
He didn’t. She didn’t even guess that he wanted to. Forty-eight hours later Pippa found herself in a first class airline seat somewhere over Siberia, heading for…Alp d’Estella?
There’d been so much to do before she’d left that she’d fallen into an exhausted sleep almost as soon as the plane took off. Now she woke to find the internal lights were off and the light from outside was the dim glow of a northern twilight. Across the aisle Sophie, Claire and Marc were solidly asleep. They’d enjoyed having a seat each at first, but then the twins had bundled in together and Marc had lifted his arm rest so he could join them.
They looked like a litter of well-fed puppies. Down in the hold, Dolores was hopefully sleeping as well, in a padded, warmed crate she’d inspected with caution but deemed fit for travel-snoozing. Kids and dog. Pippa’s responsibilities.
Was she putting them at risk? she wondered for about the hundredth time. Surely not. She’d rung the people Max had given as referees and they’d confirmed his story. Max was honourable, they’d said. She’d be safe.
But the kids would be safer at home.
Maybe, but they’d be cold and hungry. With the state of her bank balance she’d been close to needing welfare. And if anything happened to her…
She hadn’t succeeded with the farm, she thought miserably, and where was life sending her now? The enormity of what she’d promised eight years ago washed over her, as it had time and time again since Gina’s death.
What cost a promise?
‘Have you ever thought of walking away from them?’ Max asked from right beside her and she jumped about a foot.
She could barely see him. His seat was at a slight incline and hers was out flat. She struggled with some buttons and her seat rose to upright.
She passed him on the way up.
There was a moment’s silence while she sat bolt upright and felt stupid. Then he leaned over her and touched her seat control again. Her seat sank smoothly to the same incline as his.
She smelled the masculine smell of him as he leaned over.
Their faces were now six inches apart.
She backed up a little, fast, and she felt his smile rather than saw it. ‘Worry not,’ he told her. ‘I’m no ogre, Pippa, hauling you off to my dark and gloomy castle, to have my wicked way with you.’
‘You can hardly have your wicked way when I’m chaperoned by three kids and a dog,’ she managed and she tried to relax. But he was still smiling and she was feeling very…very…
Very she didn’t know what. If only he weren’t so damned good-looking. If only he weren’t so…disconcerting.
He was very disconcerting. And mentioning wicked ways hadn’t helped a bit. He was so…
Sexy.
There were things stirring inside her that had been repressed for years. She swallowed and told herself that these ideas had to go straight back to being repressed again.
They refused to cooperate.
‘Have you left the farm since Gina’s death?’ he asked and she shook her head.
‘You’ve never wanted to?’
‘No. When Alice died, Gina worried there was no extended family. I told her I’d always be there for her kids. It seemed dumb at the time, but I guess that’s what most parents do. They worry about protecting their kids for ever.’
‘And now you’ll look after these kids for ever? That’s some promise.’
‘Gina andAlice were my family. The kids are my family now.’
‘Tell me how that happened? Why were you so close to Gina and her mother?’
She hesitated. There was something about the half-light, the warmth of the pillows and blankets of her bed-cum-seat, and Max’s face being six inches from hers, that meant she either had to accept this closeness or withdraw completely.
She’d hardly spoken of her past. But now…
‘When she was a kid my mother…drank too much,’ she whispered. ‘So did Alice.’
‘Alice drank?’ He frowned. ‘Gina’s mother? My aunt?’
‘Alice used to say it ran in her family,’ she whispered. ‘The royal side. She had a huge fight with her parents and ended up in Australia. She was wild for a long
time. With alcohol. Drugs maybe? I don’t know. Anyway she got pregnant and that’s when she met my mother. They were both on their own and pregnant and trying to stay clean. They were friends for a bit. After I was born my mother reverted, but Alice never touched a drop from the time she got pregnant. Whenever my mother was so ill she couldn’t take care of me, Alice was there. In the end it was like Alice had three children. Gina, me and my mother. Only Gina and I grew up. My mother died when I was twelve.’
‘I’m glad Alice was there for you,’ Max said, his voice carefully neutral. ‘It must have been really tough.’
‘It was. But Alice made it less so. She had no support yet she managed to help Gina and I both through nursing. And when Gina met Donald…that was the wedding to end all weddings. It was our happy ever after.’
‘But happy ever after is for fairy tales.’
‘It is,’ she murmured. ‘But Alice died after Marc was born-she had an aneurism-thinking we were all happily settled. So she did have her happy ever after.’
‘She was broke, though?’
‘There was never any money.’
Max frowned. ‘Our side of the family always thought she’d married well.’
‘I suspect she told her parents that. She just wanted to be shot of them. She hated what the royal family stood for.’
‘That makes two of us,’ he said bleakly. ‘Three counting my mother.’ But then he shook his head, as if chastising himself for going down a road he didn’t want to pursue.
‘But you?’ he said gently. ‘How can you be happy?’
‘I’m happy.’
‘Have you ever had a boyfriend?’
Hang on a minute…What had that come from? ‘Mind your own business.’
‘I’d like to know.’
‘You tell me yours, then,’ she said astringently. ‘And I’ll tell you mine.’
‘Okay,’ he said surprisingly. ‘I’ve had girlfriends.’
She shouldn’t ask. But suddenly she was intrigued. ‘Not serious?’
‘They find out I have money and all of a sudden I’m desirable. It’s a great turn-off.’
‘That’s tough,’ she said, but her voice was loaded with irony. ‘You know, I was actually engaged to be married when Gina and Donald were killed. Tom thought Dolores was bad enough, but when he found I intended to take the kids he couldn’t run fast enough.’
The Prince’s Outback Bride Page 8
