by Janet Gover
He turned to look down at her as he spoke, and for the first time, their eyes met. Beneath his calm public exterior, Lauren could see the depth of emotion stirring in him. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, to brush away the small crease between his eyes. It hadn’t been there when she last saw him.
‘The portrait hanging on the wall in the background. In the top right of the painting. What is the significance of that?’
‘Just another portrait from the collection,’ she said calmly. ‘It was one which His Highness had told me he quite liked. I needed something to balance that corner of the work, so I chose that painting. It’s a particularly fine work.’
As she spoke, she almost felt the warmth of the pleasure that flowed from Nicolas.
‘But that’s not just any painting,’ the journalist continued. ‘I know the story behind it. It was the great scandal of its time. The artist who fell in love with his royal subject. Is history repeating itself?’
Lauren had expected this moment, and now it had come. What she hadn’t expected was how little it now bothered her.
‘Many great paintings have a legend behind them,’ she said with a smile. ‘I am honoured to think my work might give rise to such a fairy tale.’
She felt, as much as heard, Nicolas let go his pent-up breath. A small appreciative murmur from the assembled media gave Lauren hope that she had diverted that arrow.
But it seemed Nicolas had other ideas. ‘I do want to address the rumours.’
Lauren struggled to hold back her surprise. She looked up at him, and he smiled back at her.
‘I hold Miss Phelps, Lauren, in the highest regard, professionally and personally. If the time comes to say more than that, you will be the first to know … Well –’ he smiled ‘– maybe the second. I think my mother would like to be the first.’
A soft chuckle ran through the room.
Lauren’s heart was pounding. But Nicolas wasn’t finished yet.
‘I do have a couple of things I want to say. Firstly, with Her Majesty’s agreement, I am changing my royal role. I will of course always be available to support my mother and brother, but I believe there are better uses for my time and whatever talents I may have.’
There was a ripple of laughter in the room.
‘As you know, I served in the military. It is my intention to give much of my time to various organisations that support our veterans. Especially those who were injured in service. These men and women, and the families of the fallen deserve our help, and that’s what I shall be devoting much of my time to.’
Pens were scribbling on notebooks, microphones and recorders were lifted a fraction higher.
‘I have also recently become more involved with charities supporting the homeless and victims of domestic violence. People who have lost control of their lives.’
Whatever Lauren had been expecting, it wasn’t this. She could tell from the looks on the faces around her that this was a surprise to everyone else too.
‘Not far from here, there is a shelter for the homeless. A place for hurt and lonely people. It is a place of shelter and safety. When I visited this place, I saw how much can be done by a single man, armed with virtually nothing but his sense of purpose.’
Pastor Josef! He was talking about Josef and the shelter at St Benedict’s. Lauren remembered the overflowing storage rooms. Nicolas was the anonymous donor!
‘I was ready to make a large donation to assist his work, but he made me realise that as a member of the royal family, I could do much more. And that is just what I intend to do. I am establishing a trust for the purpose of helping those who most need it. The d’Arennes Foundation will be initially financed with a personal donation. But that won’t be enough. I intend to use my position to raise funds. I’ll be aiming to prise large cheques from those who can afford them, and smaller ones from anyone who wants to help.’
Lauren felt tears pricking her eyes as she looked from Nicolas to the portrait and back again. Here was the man she had painted. Her heart had seen into him from the day they met. This was the man she could admire. The man she could – and did – love.
He was still speaking, but she wasn’t listening to his words. She was listening to her heart.
Then he turned to her and smiled.
‘… asking for Lauren’s help in the first fundraising venture.’
She had no idea what he was talking about, but she nodded. At this moment she would have given him anything he asked for.
‘The aim of the exhibition will be twofold.’ His words dragged her mind back to the present. ‘Obviously we’ll be looking to raise funds for the Foundation, but this should also be an opportunity to promote our young artists.’
Lauren was beginning to understand what this was all about. A fundraising exhibition. Some of her former classmates at art college could be among the exhibitors. And she would be part of it too. Her sketches of people at St Benedict’s could be a focal point. She had often thought about painting the city as seen through the eyes of the lost souls who lived on its streets. If any of the pictures turned out well, she would donate them to be sold as part of the fundraising effort. Her fingers itched to get started. She had been far too long away from a canvas.
‘How about a picture, Miss Phelps? Your Royal Highness?’
Nicolas looked at her, one eyebrow raised. ‘Well?’
‘At least this time you’ll remember who it was with,’ Lauren teased in a whisper.
Nicolas frowned. ‘Who it’s with …?’ Then his face lit with memory. ‘Ah. The day we met. I was kind of rude, I seem to remember.’
‘You certainly were,’ she responded as they took up their places beside the portrait.
‘I’m surprised you still wanted to paint me.’
‘I’m glad I did. I think it turned out pretty well in the end.’ She wasn’t referring to the painting.
‘So do I.’
His fingers entwined with hers and they both smiled as the cameras flashed.
The photocall seemed to last forever. At last Falconer took to the stage and opened the way for them to escape. Holding her hand tightly, Nicolas quickly led her down the gallery and pulled her into the alcove containing the portrait of Sophia. For a long moment he simply looked at her. She felt her whole body quivering and just when she thought she could not stand to wait another moment, he pulled her to him and kissed her.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Nicolas said when they finally parted. ‘I want you all to myself for a while.’
‘Oh yes.’ She meant it with all her heart. ‘But first, I have to see Courtauld.’
Maybe one day she would tell Nicolas just what Courtauld had done for her, for them. But not yet. For now, she would keep his confidence. But she did want to thank him.
‘He’s not here. My mother has gone to the lodge to recuperate a bit more. Courtauld has gone with her.’
Lauren’s face broke into a grin.
‘What?’
‘Oh, you’ll find out eventually.’
Chapter Seventeen
Nicolas was running out of patience. Courtauld was nowhere to be found, and according to her secretary, his mother couldn’t see him at the moment. That was ridiculous. He needed to see her. Lauren’s face appeared in his mind. He could almost see her laughing at him for not being able to manage without Courtauld and telling him to just get up and go see his mother, if that’s what he needed to do.
Nicolas decided to do just that.
His mother would be in the yellow drawing room, a light-filled space adjoining her office. It was her favourite place in the palace, and he could remember playing there for hours as a child, waiting for her to find a few minutes to forget her official duties and join him and his brother. He tapped on the door and opened it without waiting for an invitation.
His mother was standing in a patch of sunlight near the large windows that looked out over the garden. And she wasn’t alone.
Nicolas froze as he recognised the man with her. Both w
ere totally oblivious to his presence as the man raised his mother’s hand to his lips and kissed it. Nicolas had seen his mother’s hand kissed many times by visitors, by nobles and knights. But never had he seen it kissed like that. Not even by his late father. When his mother took the man’s hand in hers and laid it against her cheek, Nicolas backed out of the doorway and soundlessly closed the door.
His mind was reeling as he slowly walked away from his mother’s rooms. How had he not seen this? And what was to be done about it? His mother had been alone for a very long time, and it had never once occurred to him she might be lonely. She was the Queen and things were different for queens. Some things were denied to her because of her position. Some people were denied to her.
Nicolas stopped walking. By habit, his steps had taken him to the alcove with the portrait of Sophia. The alcove where he had taken Lauren in his arms and known he did not want to spend another day without her. Was that how his mother felt? He looked up at the face of a girl he had fallen in love with as a boy. He saw the face of the woman he loved now, and he came to a decision.
‘I think you’d both approve,’ he told Sophia as he strode away with new purpose.
He was back at his desk, coffee in hand, struggling with the palace intranet when his aide returned.
‘Ah, Courtauld. At last.’
‘I’m sorry, sir. Were you waiting for me? What do you need?’
‘I need you to come in and sit down.’
Courtauld merely raised an eyebrow at the change in protocol as he sat stiffly in one of the chairs facing the prince’s antique desk.
‘How long have you been with the family, Courtauld?’
‘Since your grandfather’s reign.’
‘Yet you have your own title and estates. Why have you stayed all these years?’
‘It is an honour to serve.’
Nicolas knew Courtauld meant what he said, but he also knew that was not the only reason.
‘Well, I thank you for all these years, and am now going to dismiss you from your post in my household.’
‘Sir? If I have failed in my duties …’
‘No. Never. Which is the reason I’m asking you to take on a new role. I’d like you to head up the charitable foundation I’m establishing.’
Nicolas waited for Courtauld’s reaction. He could almost see the man thinking about the changes this would bring to his life. Nicolas hoped he would also see the opportunities.
‘It won’t be an easy job. The foundation is in its infancy. It will require strong leadership. Someone with a good head for finances and an understanding of what I want to achieve. There’ll be other duties as well, of course. My mother has agreed to be patron of the foundation, and Her Majesty will need someone at her side during official functions. Who better than the foundation head?’
Nicolas saw the realisation dawn in Courtauld’s face. As their eyes met, Nicolas nodded.
‘My mother is a strong woman, and she certainly doesn’t need my help or permission for anything,’ Nicolas said quickly. He cleared his throat. ‘I need someone to work at the foundation with her, and I think the two of you would do very well together.’
For a long moment the two sat, looking at each other while the rest of the conversation … the unspoken words … played in their heads. Finally, Courtauld nodded.
‘It would be an honour and a pleasure to guide your foundation, sir.’
‘As you’re not in my service any more, can’t you call me Nicolas?’
‘Of course I can’t, sir.’
Both men smiled. Nicolas rose to his feet and held out his hand. For the first time in their many years together, the two men shook hands.
‘But before you take up your new role,’ Nicolas said, ‘I do need your help with one more thing. Can you tell me just who is in charge of the crown jewels?’
* * *
‘Ah-ha. These are my Christmas socks, I’m sure of it.’ Maria held the trophy high. ‘I wondered what happened to them. I must have left them here on one of our girls’ nights in.’
Lauren sat back on her heels and dropped the book she was holding into the cardboard box. ‘We will still have girls’ nights in, won’t we?’
‘Of course we will, Your Highness, but can we have them at the palace? I’m sure the wine there is much better than the cheap stuff you serve.’
‘Stop it.’ Lauren felt her chin begin to quiver.
‘Oh, Lauren, I’m sorry. What’s wrong?’ In an instant Maria was at her friend’s side to envelop her in a hug.
‘Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.’ Lauren closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘It’s packing, I guess. It’s suddenly brought it home to me how much my life is changing.’
Lauren got to her feet and walked over to the window. She looked down into the street where there was a small crowd of people being watched over by a policeman who was standing on the steps of her building. ‘I guess your life will be easier once I move into the palace,’ she said. ‘You won’t have that lot outside your front door.’
‘And I won’t have my best friend living downstairs from me any more.’ Maria went to the fridge and pulled out the last bottle of wine that lay in the almost empty interior. ‘Come on, let’s open this. Packing can wait. Do we have any glasses still not wrapped?’
They did, but they weren’t wine glasses. Undeterred Maria filled two tumblers with wine and held hers high.
‘Here’s to girls’ nights in,’ she said. ‘And to you finding that handsome prince we talked about so often.’
The glasses clinked.
‘If the press saw me now, they’d have a field day,’ Lauren said, raising her glass as she sank cross-legged onto the carpet.
Maria’s face became serious as she dropped down next to Lauren. ‘Are you absolutely certain this is what you want? It’s not going to be easy.’
‘Except for loving him. That part is so easy.’ Lauren twirled the glass in her hands. ‘To be honest, I’d love to run away. Just the two of us. But that’s not on the cards. Not just because he’s The Prince but because he’s Nick. Prince Nicolas is part of who he is. And I love him. Every part of him. I want to marry him, so I guess I’d better get used to all that.’ She waved her hand in the general direction of the window and the world beyond.
‘Just promise me you won’t let yourself get lost. If you ever feel that way, you know I’m here.’
Lauren blinked back a sudden tear. ‘Yes you are, and I love you for that.’ She hugged her friend. ‘I’m fine. I’m just nervous about tomorrow’s big engagement announcement. And the press conference.’
‘You’ll do great. Don’t worry.’
A knock on the door brought Lauren to her feet. She raced to open it and almost flung herself into Nick’s arms.
‘We’ll be off then.’ Maria touched Lauren gently on her shoulder. ‘Come on, Sergeant Lawry, there’s coffee upstairs.’
‘Sir …’
‘No. No. I think you can trust them alone. Come with me, Sergeant. Thomas, wasn’t it? Well, Tom, I think we should take some time to get to know each other.’ Maria winked hugely at Lauren and departed, closing the door behind her.
‘Alone at last.’ Nick drew her close and kissed her. Lauren kissed him back with all her heart and no doubts at all.
‘How’s the packing going?’ Nick surveyed the room.
‘Messy, but getting there. Don’t worry, I’ll be ready when the truck comes this afternoon.’
‘Then why do you look like you are ready to burst into tears?’
‘Damn. I thought I’d hidden that.’
‘Never hide anything from me, Lauren. Please. Quite apart from the fact that you’re really bad at it, I want you always to be honest with me.’ He took her hands and led her to the sofa. ‘You’re not having second thoughts are you? Because if you are, please tell me. I know I come with a lot of baggage.’
Lauren placed a finger across his lips to stop his words. ‘I am not having second thoughts about you. Never.
I’m just nervous about tomorrow and how people will react to me.’
‘The announcement won’t surprise anyone. You’ve seen the speculation all over the media and the web. As for how people will react – they’ll love you. And even if they don’t, I do, and that’s what matters most, isn’t it?’
Lauren felt her uncertainty slipping away. ‘It’s the only thing that matters.’
She watched his face light up and thought she might explode with happiness.
‘But, I’ve forgotten one thing,’ Nick said. ‘And it’s something important. You’re moving to the palace tomorrow, and we’re telling the world. But in all our excitement and eagerness, I’ve never actually done this.’
Lauren’s breath caught in her throat as Nick slipped off the sofa onto one knee. He took her left hand in his.
‘Lauren, life with me won’t be easy. My family and my job won’t be easy. But I know I don’t want to be without you, ever. If you will do me the great honour of becoming my wife, I can promise you that I will always think of you first; I will always be on your side and I will love you until the day I die.’
Tears began to stream down Lauren’s face. ‘Yes.’
Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet ring box. He opened it and displayed the contents to Lauren. The ring was old. Very old. The gold was a darker yellow than she had seen before, and two lines of tiny pearls curved around a glittering blue sapphire.
‘It’s beautiful!’
‘It belonged to Sophia,’ Nick said as he gently slipped it on her finger. ‘It’s not her wedding ring, but she wore it every day of her life. It was passed on to her son. The one with the artistic tendencies.’
Lauren tried, but couldn’t find the words.
‘The central stone was originally a ruby.’ Nick rubbed it gently with one finger. ‘I had it replaced with the sapphire. The colour reminds me of your hair on the day we met. Although …’ with a grin he flicked back a stray lock of her hair that was falling over her face ‘… looking at your current colour, I should have left the ruby there.’
Lauren slid off the sofa into his arms because if she didn’t kiss him, her heart would stop beating.