“The lady is not easily frightened or intimidated,” Michael returned. Then he came into the room, kissed Hannah on the cheek—a gesture Stephan noted made her beam in pleasure—and took a seat at the table.
One of the maids arrived with Hannah’s breakfast. She quickly solicited Stephan’s order and then Michael’s.
Then Sophie entered the room and Stephan’s attention was riveted. He caught the way she seemed to brace herself before coming in and taking a seat beside Hannah. Saying a simple ‘good morning’ to the room at large, she kept her eyes everywhere except on him.
After Michael and Hannah returned her greeting, he said, silkily, “Sophie and I already exchanged our morning greetings—just outside her bedroom.”
“Oh. So we did. I’d almost forgotten.”
Liar. Her blasé response challenged him even as he admired her aplomb.
“Then tomorrow I shall endeavor to be more memorable.”
Aware of Hannah’s sudden intense scrutiny, he gave her a bright smile only to find himself the recipient of what he could only call a mother’s look. It was the same expression his own mother wore when she knew he’d stepped over the line.
And just like when his mother looked at him like that, Hannah’s look made him want to squirm in his chair, though he struggled manfully not to do so.
“Your parents are arriving today, I understand?”
Hannah’s question, backed by the sparkle in her eyes, confirmed that she did indeed possess that same mother’s sense.
“They are. I have a feeling you and my mother will get along very well,” he added ruefully.
Hannah dabbed her mouth on her napkin and set it aside. When she got to her feet, he automatically did the same.
“We probably will. We have impetuous sons in common.”
* * * *
Sophie hadn’t wanted to take any chances. Shortly after Hannah excused herself from the table, she feigned having forgotten something important and left the room. She was hungry, but there was no way in hell she would take the chance of being left alone with Stephan so soon after that kiss.
She was certain once she’d walked down the stairs, down the corridor with all the portraits of her ancestors looking on, she would be able to settle her nerves, and restore her cool façade.
It hadn’t happened, and she didn’t know how to make it so.
Since her brother was getting married tomorrow morning, Sophie had booked this day off work in order to be on hand for Catharine should she be needed, and, of course, to help her father welcome the handful of special guests who had been invited to stay at the palace for the nuptials.
Directing her steps to the kitchen, she stood just outside the busy room and observed.
Everyone knew exactly what they were doing, and they all seemed to work together so well. She’d heard that Hannah and Catharine were both regular visitors to this domain. She liked the atmosphere here, the busyness and the scent of food, the light and the laughter. Once, when she’d been small, she’d snuck down in the middle of the night. That was when her mother had been alive, and long before Robert Longet had been lured away from ruling the kitchen in a five star restaurant in Paris. The palace’s former chef, Monsieur Pérot, had been awake and alone in the cavernous room. He had spotted Sophie and made a huge production of welcoming her to his realm. They’d had a tea party, and it had been one of the happiest moments of her life until her nanny had found her and carted her up to bed. The kitchen was no place for a princess, Nanny Celeste had said. Of course her mother had been told, and she’d been scolded the next day. A princess certainly did not belong in the kitchen.
My goodness, where had that memory been hiding?
“Your Highness?”
Robert’s question brought her back to the present. Silence had descended on the kitchen, and every member of the staff was standing still, watching her. Most of these people had been a part of the staff, living under the same roof as she for years. Looking at their faces now she realized that she knew everyone’s name. Good Lord, they were looking at her almost the same way she remembered members of the staff used to look at her mother, with trepidation!
Sophie held on to her poise and offered a small smile, trying to put the kitchen staff at ease despite her own nervousness. “I wanted a cheerier atmosphere in which to eat my breakfast this morning. Could I please impose on your hospitality?”
She took in the look of shock on several faces. She nearly turned and left. Then Robert smiled, and in a sweeping arm gesture indicated the table that was placed near the windows, just out of the busy traffic area of the room.
“We would be delighted, Your Highness. What can we prepare for you?”
Her usual breakfast was a healthy bran muffin, juice, and tea. But she didn’t feel like being healthy this morning.
If ever there was a day designed to break from the usual, then surely this was it.
“Do we have peaches? And Crepes?”
“We do.”
“And…whipped cream?”
She knew she looked hopeful, because that’s how she felt.
Robert smiled conspiratorially. “What would peaches and crepes be without whipped cream?”
As she was served tea and the staff got back to work, she wondered at the strange mood that had stolen over her. She didn’t want to put the blame—or the credit for that matter—on Stephan’s brash behavior. But she had the feeling his kiss had affected her far more than she wanted to admit. And she couldn’t help but wonder if he kissed her again, what would happen next.
Chapter 4
He’d awakened alone.
As Alex entered his suite, that fact stayed on his mind, and in his heart. It hadn’t surprised him when he’d opened his eyes in that chaise on the beach to find Hannah gone. He might have believed the entire night had been nothing more than a pleasant dream if her scent didn’t still cling to him.
He’d awakened alone, and now as he prepared to shower, he understood that if he didn’t do something soon, awakening alone was likely to be his fate for the rest of his life.
The hot water beat down upon him, and his thoughts traveled back over the course of his life. He could truthfully say that he’d never tasted personal happiness or completion as a man until he met Hannah. Yes, his children had always been a joy to him. He’d always lavished the enormous amount of love in his heart on them. He’d proudly been the first person to hold each of his children when they’d been born. True, while his wife was alive, he’d not made them a priority until after her death. But his love for them had never been in doubt.
He loved his country, and had cared for her as a devoted servant would care for a revered mistress. When he’d ascended to the throne at the tender age of twenty-one, his country had been in tatters, on the verge of bankruptcy. He’d labored, night and day, to right the wrongs several generations of careless de la Croix kings had inflicted upon her. Right them he had, and considered himself privileged to do so.
But his love for Hannah Jones was different, far more personal, and in a way bigger than his love for either his children or his country.
He quite simply couldn’t do without her. That sounded like a burden, but in truth this love for and with Hannah was the greatest and most unexpected gift he’d ever received.
He’d understood the nature of his marriage practically as the vows were being said. He’d been under no illusions when it came to his bride and future queen. He’d hoped they would at least reach a place of comfort, of friendship. That had never happened, and he’d resigned himself to his life as it was. When Liana had died, he’d felt more relief than grief, and so had focused on his children and their loss. As the years had passed, it had never even occurred to him that he would meet someone, fall in love. He never once considered the possibility that his personal life could be any different, any better, than it had ever been.
Now he knew. As he dried himself, tossed on a robe, and entered his bedroom, he knew the time had come to make a decisio
n.
He called down to the kitchen, asked to have coffee brought to him. He didn’t want to see anyone, be sociable, for a bit longer. He needed this time of solitude to think.
The coffee came on a tray accompanied by a number of small delectable pastries and a selection of fresh fruit.
He walked through his suite to the sitting room. Here, the wide patio doors led to a balcony, one that overlooked the city of Cardinia, and in the distance the resort where he’d so recently met the only woman he would ever love.
He’d courted Hannah under false pretences. He’d presented himself as an ordinary man. One who lived a work-a-day life, and was approaching his September years. They’d fallen in love in that fool’s paradise he’d created. Wanting to look at the situation from what he believed was Hannah’s point of view, perhaps how he’d presented himself had influenced her heart. She was a widow, one whose children were fully grown, and one who, in all reality, could therefore expect a future where life would slow down and change. Her busy years were behind her, years when she’d had to work so hard, raise her children—for the most part on her own. Though not yet fifty, surely she’d been looking forward to retirement, and doing less for others.
Wasn’t that essentially the argument she’d given him in turning down his proposal of marriage?
It wasn’t being his wife that she objected to. It was being his queen.
He loved his country, faithfully. He’d put his role as king first in his life, always. But if being king meant a life without Hannah, a choice would have to be made.
And haven’t I already made that choice, in my heart?
Michael was older, and far more prepared than Alex had been upon ascension. He knew him to be as devoted to Boisdemer as he had been. His eldest son was extraordinarily bright, gifted in diplomacy, and very well suited to guide their tiny nation on into the future. And Alex would be handing him a nation that was not only healthy, but thriving.
He would wait until after the wedding to make his announcement to his nation and his family.
But he could wait no longer to find Hannah and let her know that saying yes to his proposal no longer meant saying yes to anything but a lifetime of the two of them, together.
She was worth any price, even his crown.
* * * *
Hannah walked the gardens, feeling emotionally uplifted as always to be surrounded by such tranquility and beauty. Here she could spend countless hours just thinking. It was here Alex had proposed to her. What better spot, then, for her to come to terms with all the roiling emotions that had consumed her since that fateful afternoon?
“Lovely day, isn’t it?”
The cheery voice seemed to be coming from the rose bushes. As Hannah watched, a smiling face peeked through the stems. The woman stood, and Hannah realized the tiny gardener had been completely hidden from view as she worked.
“Yes, it is a lovely day.”
“I can go and work elsewhere if you like, mum, though I’m nearly done here.”
She couldn’t have been even five feet tall, and if Hannah had to peg her age she would have to say the lady was on the sunny side of seventy. But her blue eyes twinkled with such merriment, and her white hair seemed as if it wanted to explode from beneath the wide brimmed straw bonnet she wore. Her voice, melodious, carried a slight British accent.
“Oh no, please. I don’t want to disturb your work.”
“You must be very excited, what with the wedding tomorrow. You are, after all, the mother of the bride.”
Hannah made herself comfortable on a near-by bench, and smiled at the earnest way the woman applied herself to snipping and trimming the greenery. There was something vaguely familiar about that smiling face, but Hannah couldn’t quite put her finger on what. Likely, she’d just seen the woman around and about, though she did think her a bit old to be working in the gardens.
“I’m very excited, yes. Mostly, of course, because Catharine is so happy. I never thought to see my baby this happy.”
“It shows, doesn’t it, when you look at two people who were meant to be together? There’s a glow that surrounds them, and you know when they look at each other they’re in a world of their own.”
“You’re exactly right,” Hannah said. She sat back against the bench and relaxed, the image the gardener painted so vivid and clear in her mind. That was exactly the way Catharine and Philip seemed together. Peter and Rachel too, she mused.
“Of course, we’ve seen that look a lot here about lately. I’ve seen it every time you and His Majesty stroll these gardens, hand in hand. How lovely it is that after years of being alone and without happiness, love can blossom so beautifully for you both.”
“It’s not as simple, though, for us.” Hannah didn’t know why she was being so candid with this woman. It wasn’t in her nature to confide in people she didn’t know.
“Well, it’s not easy to keep the blooms returning, year after year, to some of these bushes, is it? Some of them are quite old and were planted by people who perhaps lacked vision, or didn’t care what might become of them one year to the next. Left alone, they would wither and die with the weeds, given half a chance, choking the life out of them.” The little woman’s fingers were busy as she talked, judiciously plucking a fading bloom here, a wizened leaf there. She glanced up and met Hannah’s gaze with a quick, understanding smile that was as bright as the sun above before she began to wield a tiny pair of garden shears, trimming the bush into shape with well-placed snips. “It’s very much like that with people, don’t you think? They need to be snipped here and there—old hurts cut away—so that what was can be replaced by what is. That’s one comfort in being older. You come to know that the hard times didn’t come to stay, they came to pass. And when we’re older, we understand that circumstances may change, but that doesn’t mean that we have to change who we are on the inside. Where a person is and what surrounds them isn’t nearly as important as what’s inside them, after all. Whether you’re a woman in love sitting on a Louis Quatorze settee or on a park bench, you’re still a woman in love.”
Hannah found herself unable to look away from the beguiling woman’s gaze. Even as she stared, she was remembering parts of her life, times when during her marriage everything seemed so difficult. It was true, Jordan hadn’t lent much of a hand with anything. Narcissistic by nature, he simply had never seen that he should be any other way. He was content to do nothing, to laze away his days seeking only to please himself.
Alex was as different from Jordan as night was from day.
When Jordan had been alive and life a struggle, every penny had to be counted and rationed. Now, alone, responsible only for herself, she was in better straits financially than she’d ever been. Why, in the lean years she was never a person to go out to dinner or take an impulsive shopping trip to the mall. She would have sworn that lifestyle was not her. Her circumstances now far surpassed her circumstances then. And what did circumstances matter, really? She hadn’t changed.
The thought echoed in her mind as if announced by a trumpet fanfare. As the epiphany glimmered then grew within her, she felt her heart lighten.
If she said yes to Alex, there would be responsibilities for her as his queen. But she wouldn’t be doing anything all by herself. She’d be helping Alex, working with him. They’d be a team. Nothing really mattered, did it, as long as they were together? Alex had fallen in love with the woman she was, an ordinary woman. Not a princess or lady of pedigree and protocol.
Oh, why hadn’t she seen that before?
He worked so hard and gave so much. In the short time she’d known him as king, she’d noticed how tirelessly he worked. She’d accompanied him a few times, and had marveled at the way people simply glowed around him. How much he cared about everyone, and how much he cared about her! She’d done her part, too, she realized now on those few occasions. Would it be all that much different as his queen? When you came right down to it, it was all simply caring about people. And she certainly had a fl
air for that didn’t she?
On the way back to the palace, after those jaunts, she recalled the pleasure she’d gotten from simply being with Alex, just the two of them.
Marriage to him would be work, and there would be no retirement. But the life Alex offered would be sweet and wonderful, full of a million rewards because they loved each other and would be sharing it together.
She surged to her feet, eager to find Alex and tell him. She looked around to excuse herself, but the tiny woman was nowhere to be seen.
She had no time to ponder the strangeness of that, for as she turned to go, she was surprised and pleased to see Alex striding toward her.
* * * *
How fitting, he thought, that he should find her here. He’d been rehearsing the words he would say to her, and knew just how he wanted to put it.
In the next moment, he lost his train of thought completely as Hannah launched herself into his arms.
“Oh, Alex, I love you so much!”
“Hannah.”
His heart overflowed with such joy, he could only manage her name. His arms enfolded her tightly, and he held on. He would never let her go.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve been such a fool.”
“No, my love. Never. Come, sit. I have something I need to tell you.”
He led her to the bench and pulled her down onto his lap. It felt so good to hold her, to have her wrapping herself around him, that he stole just a few moments to cherish the feeling.
But he had words to say to her, and he needed to get them said. “Sweetheart, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking over the last few days. I couldn’t see how we could fix this rift between us, as much as I wanted to. And then, last night—” he paused, for the beauty of what had passed in the night between them staggered him, even now. When she blushed, he was delighted. He kissed her lips lightly. “After last night, I realized that it was simple, really. My Hannah, I can live without my crown, but I cannot live without you.”
A Prince For Sophie Page 3