‘Not me, either,’ Rafael said and his mother sighed.
‘That’s what Kass said.’
‘Mama, I’m only here because Kelly forced me to be here,’ Rafael growled. ‘To take this all on…’ He sounded bleak.
But there was a trace of acceptance in his voice, Kelly thought. There was more than a trace of his father in him. Despite his distaste for royalty, he’d agreed to meet this deputation tonight. She watched his face and thought yes, he’d do it. And it wasn’t just her blackmail that was making him commit.
He was no Kass.
But was Laura asking her to share?
‘I’m only here for my son,’ she whispered.
‘Do you think you can stay separate?’ Laura asked gently.
‘I think I don’t know anything,’ she whispered.
‘You’re a historian. You do the minimum amount of research on this place and you’ll find out what I say is the truth.’
‘So what do you want me to do about it?’
‘I think you should both be royal,’ Laura said gently and then, as Kelly stared at her in dismay, she shook her head, rueful.
‘Rafael, you know it’s what your father would have wanted. He hated what his father and his brother did to this country.’
‘I hated what they did to him,’ Rafael retorted.
‘It’s not the country’s fault. Nor is what Kass did to you the country’s fault, my dear,’ she told Kelly. ‘Do the research,’ she ordered and swung herself off her wall and opened the gate. ‘Make no promises yet. But think, my dears. Think, oh, think, of what the pair of you could achieve. Rafael, you’re due to meet the country’s representatives in half an hour. Kelly, if you could find it in you to help…’
‘I can’t.’
‘Just think about it,’ she demanded flatly, and disappeared into the house before either of them could reply.
Why had she come with Rafael and his mother, Kelly thought frantically as Laura disappeared. It meant she had to walk home alone with Rafael and he was making her nervous. He was big and silent and just…there.
He was as preoccupied as she was. Laura’s words were echoing in the night air. So much to take on board…
They walked slowly through the woodland path towards the stables. The castle loomed before them, vast and majestic. The night was warm and filled with scents from the garden-a magic night.
‘Is that a nightingale?’ she asked before she could help herself and Rafael paused and listened and then shrugged.
‘Yep. They’re common.’
‘Nightingales are common?’
‘It’s this whole damned fairy tale setting,’ he said morosely. ‘It does your head in. Like wearing a dress sword. I make toys. I don’t want to live in make-believe any more than I have to.’
‘I won’t live in make-believe.’
‘The problem is,’ he said, ‘it’s not make-believe. It’s real. Your son has to take over responsibility for this country and he’s five years old.’
‘My son needs to take over responsibility for this country in twenty years.’
‘Meaning you’re landing it fair in my corner.’
‘Yes,’ she said and walked on. Rafael stopped and stared at her.
‘You could at least sound guilty,’ he called and she turned and kept walking, but backwards so she could watch him in the moonlight.
‘Why should I feel guilty?’
‘If you hadn’t had Matty I wouldn’t be in this mess.’
‘Yes, you would. Some other woman would have had the heir to the throne. Kass would still have died and you might have got someone who wasn’t nicely determined to keep herself out of your way, out of trouble, out of sight.’
‘So during the coronation…’
‘I’ll watch,’ she conceded. ‘I’ll find myself a corner up the back.’
‘You look ridiculous in baggy sweaters,’ he said and she froze.
‘I beg your pardon.’
‘You’re meant to be royal. You looked fantastic in crinoline and hoops.’
‘And you look fantastic in your dress sword,’ she said. ‘But I was playing dress-ups for a reason that no longer exists. Your reasons keep going for another twenty years.’
‘Kelly, help me here.’
‘Help you do what?’
‘We can do it together,’ he said, pleading. ‘You can take some of the pressure from me. If you’ll play the princess…’
‘No.’
‘Kelly…’
‘No!’ She turned and stalked round the corner of the stables. And stopped.
Matty was walking towards them. He was in his pyjamas and bedroom slippers. He had his thumb in his mouth. He was walking determinedly towards the stables and he looked not even his full five years old.
‘Matty,’ she said and he looked up and saw them and froze.
‘It’s okay,’ she said quickly. Rafael came round the corner of the stables and paused beside her. ‘It’s okay, Matty. It’s only Rafael and me.’
‘I want to see Blaze,’ Matty whispered. He’d relaxed a little when he’d seen Rafael but he still sounded guilty.
‘Blaze?’
‘My papa’s horse,’ he said in a thread of a whisper. Then his voice firmed. ‘Blaze is my horse now. I thought about him while I was in Australia. I thought and thought. Papa’s dead. I don’t think anyone’s told Blaze.’
‘I’m sure someone’s already told him,’ Kelly said. ‘And we can tell him again in the morning. Sweetheart, you should be in bed.’
‘I was in bed for hours and hours,’ Matty said. ‘I woke up and it feels like morning. So I had to tell Blaze.’
‘Matty, Blaze already knows that your papa is dead,’ Rafael said. They were standing side by side, looking down at the little prince. Matty was looking young, vulnerable but also determined. His small chin jutted forward in a gesture Kelly was starting to recognize.
‘I should have told him myself,’ Matty said fretfully. ‘He’s my horse.’
‘I guess we need to come with you then, to make sure he’s okay,’ Rafael said. ‘If it’s okay with your mama.’
Horses. She didn’t want to go anywhere near horses. Especially not Kass’s horse. Blaze was the magnificent animal that had propelled her into trouble in the first place. She cast a despairing glance at Rafael but, to her astonishment, he took her hand and squeezed, almost as if he understood.
‘A quick visit and then bed,’ he said. ‘Better than wasting time arguing. Matty, do you know where Blaze is stabled?’
‘Of course I do,’ Matty said scornfully.
‘Then lead on,’ Rafael said gently and the little boy looked uncertainly up at the adults before him, then shrugged and led the way into the stables.
They were just as Kelly remembered.
Six years ago Kass had brought her in here at dawn, introduced her to each of the royal horses and then said, ‘Choose your mount.’
For Kelly, who loved horses almost more than life itself, it had been the sexiest thing Kass could possibly have done. She’d walked between each stall while Kass had stood indulgently back, like a genie who’d just oozed from his bottle and snapped his fingers.
Then he’d called the stable-hands to saddle the mare of her choice; he’d mounted the huge black stallion with the blaze of white on its forehead and they’d ridden out into the dawn together.
It had been heady stuff for a kid who’d spent her life lusting after a horse of her own. Heady enough stuff to remove any sense of self-preservation, to make her walk straight into a web that she could never walk out of.
Now she walked into the stables feeling just the same-as if a door would slam behind her and she’d be stuck. But Matty was walking steadily forward to the first stall.
Kelly peered nervously over the door. A mare stood placidly at the rear of the stall, head down in the manger.
‘It’s not Blaze.’
‘He’s here somewhere. I have to find him.’
‘He’s at the
end,’ Rafael said and motioned along the doorways. His height gave him the advantage. Kelly turned and saw what Rafael was seeing, the great stallion standing at ease, staring out at them with seeming unconcern.
She flinched and Rafael stepped forward and took her arm.
‘It’s okay.’
‘I know it’s okay,’ she muttered. ‘I…I know horses.’
‘Do you know Blaze?’ Matty asked.
‘I’ve met him,’ she muttered. ‘Matty, he’s too big for you to go near.’
‘He’s my horse,’ Matty said, sounding rebellious. ‘My papa said the Prince has to have the best, and Blaze is the best. I knew when he died I’d have to take care of him. Like the country. Crater says I have to take care of the country.’
It was such an astounding statement coming out of the mouth of a five-year-old that neither Rafael nor Kelly could think of a response.
‘But Crater says you’ll help,’ Matty said, almost indulgently, and walked forward to Blaze’s stall. He stood looking uncertainly up at the big horse, as if unsure how to approach him. ‘He’s very big.’
‘I think your father would want you to ride a much smaller horse for a while,’ Kelly said but Matty shook his head.
‘Someone has to ride Blaze.’
‘Maybe Rafael…’
‘I don’t ride,’ Rafael said.
‘Me either,’ Kelly retorted.
‘Crater said my mother rides like the wind,’ Matty said, turning to stare at her as if he’d been given deeply erroneous information-information that was very, very important.
‘People change,’ Kelly said. ‘I…I don’t ride any more.’
‘Why not?’
‘I just don’t,’ she said helplessly. ‘I study instead.’
‘Who will help me look after the horses?’
‘I…we’ll employ people,’ Kelly said. ‘Maybe…I mean we probably already do. Don’t we, Rafael?’
‘I guess.’ Rafael peered hopefully into the stalls. ‘They’ve all got hay and fresh water. They’re obviously being taken care of.’
‘But I need to know for sure,’ Matty said definitely. ‘I’ll find out tomorrow. And Ellen says there’s a dep…a deputation coming from the village. I need to see them.’
‘They’re coming tonight and they’re coming to see your Uncle Rafael,’ Kelly told him.
‘I’m the Prince,’ Matty said. ‘Uncle Rafael doesn’t want to be the Prince.’
‘Uncle Rafael is the Prince until you’re older,’ Kelly said.
‘He doesn’t even want to ride horses.’
‘He doesn’t have a choice,’ Kelly snapped. It was too much. Her tiny prince was looking cold and shaky. She picked him up before he could make a protest and held him close. ‘Meanwhile, you need to go back to bed. Stop worrying about tomorrow.’
‘I have to worry about it,’ Matty said. ‘I’m…’
‘You’re a little boy who needs to be a little boy,’ she said solidly. ‘And little boys need to do what their mothers tell them. Which is go to bed and not worry. Your Uncle Rafael will take care of everything.’
‘Sure,’ Rafael said morosely.
‘See,’ Matty said. ‘He doesn’t want to.’
‘I do want to,’ Rafael said. ‘I meant to say sure. As in happy sure. It’s just because I have jet lag that it came out grumpy.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure,’ he said and beamed. Kelly almost laughed. It was some crazy beam. It was a Cheshire cat beam, ridiculous in its insincerity.
But it seemed to do the trick. Matty relaxed into her arms and snuggled against her.
‘I just thought…I worried about Blaze. And the villagers…They used to come to see Papa when he was alive. Papa called them fools but Ellen said if Papa was a proper prince he’d listen to what they need and do something about it. I want to be a proper prince.’
‘You will be,’ Kelly said unsteadily. ‘Later. Not now. Not until you’re almost as high as Blaze.’
‘Uncle Rafael will take care of everything?’
‘Uncle Rafael will take care of everything,’ she said. ‘Now, I’m taking you back to bed.’
She tucked him into bed, and stayed with him until he was asleep. She decided she ought to go to bed herself, but when she looked out of the nursery window she saw Rafael.
He was sitting on one of the garden seats, staring out towards the Alps beyond. He was dressed in his royal regalia again. She wasn’t sure about the sword, but she could see braid on his shoulders.
A prince waiting to meet the townspeople.
What had he said?
‘We can do it together. You can take some of the pressure from me. If you’ll play the princess…’
She wasn’t about to play the princess. Once she had. Never again.
She should close the curtains.
She couldn’t.
Rafael had been asked to take on what she couldn’t. She couldn’t let him off the hook, but that didn’t stop her feeling guilty.
Matty was solidly asleep again. Marguerite was right next door. And Rafael looked…alone.
She glanced down at her clothing-jeans and baggy sweater.
It was hardly princess wear.
That was okay.
Not okay if she wanted to help.
Could she help?
Maybe she could, she thought. Just a little. After all, Rafael was in a relationship with his Anna. He was no threat to her. To hide up here like a hermit…Maybe it was even silly.
But what to wear…
She bit her lip.
‘Go on, Kelly,’ she told herself, whispering into the night. ‘You’ve been playing dress-ups for five years now. Maybe you can play dress-ups a little bit longer.’
Her rooms were just as she’d left them. Kelly turned the handle of the vast oak doors leading into the suite she’d stayed in five years ago and the sight of the dressing gown on the side table made her frown again. Why hadn’t it been thrown out?
But then…This suite was one of many and it was as far from Kass’s apartments as it was possible to be. If Kass had brought guests-women-here he’d want them a lot closer. For the staff to destroy her possessions would have taken a direct order and Kass must simply never have given the order.
The crib that had stood beside the bed for those few short weeks had gone. Otherwise it was exactly as she’d left it. Cleaned and cared for and ready for her to come home.
She wasn’t home. She had no place here.
Not true. She was Matty’s mother. And maybe it wouldn’t hurt to help.
She was being silly. Dumb. But just on the off chance…
She walked across to the vast bank of wardrobes and slid back the doors. And found what she’d half expected.
Here was her wardrobe. A wardrobe fit for a princess.
The first few weeks with Kass had been dreamlike. A royal fantasy. She’d been whisked to Paris, she’d been showered with every luxury, she’d been wooed with every one of Kass’s several charms.
He’d taken her shopping. Not the shopping normal people did, but shopping where he’d take her into the most expensive boutiques he could find, introduced her grandly as Kellyn, Princess of Alp de Ciel, settled himself into a settee, called for a drink and watched as she tried on one outfit after another.
For Kelly, who’d thought the epitome of fashion was her little red dress, it had been an eye-opener. For a while she’d thought it was fantastic.
And these were the legacy, left behind as Kass had forced her to leave. One designer gown after another. Dresses that had been so expensive their price tags had made her eyes water.
Ridiculous dresses.
She was here for a purpose. She had to do it fast or she’d lose courage.
She tugged a dress from the racks-an elegant black cocktail frock, tiny capped sleeves, a sweetheart neckline, a hemline that was too long for Kass’s taste but which the boutique owner had gasped over.
‘Oh, Your Highness, it makes you
look just like Audrey Hepburn.’
Hardly, Kelly thought, but she grinned and held it up in front of her. She was the same size as six years ago. It wouldn’t hurt to dress up just a little.
Her shoes were still here. All her shoes. What about her jewellery?
Was she being really, really dumb? she demanded of herself as she pulled out the top drawer of her bureau.
Maybe she was, but Rafael was waiting.
The men were angry and impatient and barely civil. Rafael didn’t blame them. Their needs were urgent and they’d been ignored for too long.
‘We need to sit down and look at the whole situation,’ he said, but that was just what they didn’t want to hear.
‘You’re just like your cousin,’ one of the men snapped. ‘He didn’t care and neither do you. Do you realise the threat to the village…?’
‘He doesn’t realise it yet, but he will,’ a soft voice said from the doorway. ‘We both will.’
Rafael turned-and gasped.
He’d brought the men into the first of the salons just by the grand entrance. The room was vast and ornate, with magnificent settees gathered around a fireplace that was truly awesome. But outside in the entrance there were marble columns, a chandelier with so many crystals it must take an army to clean it, a truly magnificent entry.
Kelly was framed against it. A slip of a girl in a dress that was the epitome of elegance. It hugged her figure, showing off every lovely curve. Her hair was swept up into a knot that might be casual-wisps of curls were escaping-but it accentuated the simplicity of her dress. Her legs looked long and elegant, her black sandals made her feet look sooo sexy…
The whole outfit made her look sooo sexy. The eight men in the deputation were rising to their feet as one and Rafael did too.
‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ Kelly was murmuring as she crossed to Rafael’s side. ‘My son is a little unsettled after the flight and I needed to make sure he was asleep before I left.’
‘Princess…Kellyn?’ someone breathed and Rafael caught his breath and made the introductions.
Her outfit was brilliant, he thought as he watched the men’s reactions. She’d been described to the country as a slut. This outfit made her look anything but.
She rested her hand lightly on his arm. It wasn’t a proprietorial gesture. It was a gesture of solidarity.
Wanted: Royal Wife and Mother Page 9