She took a deep breath. She was probably only here for a month, she thought, so there was no need to make trouble when it could be avoided. But if, she thought, if Marc did end up as Crown Prince, then the ground rules had to be set now. Even if these two were about to retire.
‘I gather Marc…’ She caught herself. ‘I gather His Highness, Prince Marc, is to be the new Crown Prince of Alp d’Estella. I’m his legal guardian. Any decision regarding the children will thus be made by me. Not by Mr Levout. Not by anyone else. Do I make myself clear?’
Two jaws sagged.
‘Well?’
‘Oh, my dear,’ the oldest woman said, and she beamed. ‘Oh, yes, miss.’
‘You ought to stand up to him,’ the other woman breathed. ‘No one else does.’ She looked to where the kids were enthusiastically bouncing on their four-poster. ‘He’d have a heart attack if he saw that.’
Pippa turned and looked at the kids. They’d tugged off their shoes before bouncing. As guardian, could she demand anything more? ‘They’re allowed to bounce,’ she said.
‘Oh, yes, miss,’ the oldest maid breathed and she chuckled. ‘I have a grandson who loves bouncing.’
‘You have a grandson?’
‘I have three.’
‘Excuse me, but why are you still working as a maid?’
There was blank incomprehension. ‘We need to,’ the woman said at last. ‘Jobs are scarce.’
‘You don’t have pensions?’
‘Pensions?’
‘Well,’ Pippa said and set her shoulders. ‘Maybe it’s just as well we came after all.’
What was she saying?
The maids left soon after and they were left alone.
The children bounced. They explored every inch of the nursery. Then the four of them-Dolores excused herself as she’d found a fire-took themselves further, checking school rooms, bedroom upon bedroom, living rooms, libraries, great halls, ballrooms…They knocked at each door and when there was no response they peered inside.
They grew more and more awed.
They found the inside swimming pool. It was huge, with a special lap lane designed with wave blockers so the water stayed calm all the time.
‘I want a swim,’ Marc breathed.
‘Tomorrow.’ Pippa gazed round with awe. ‘Let’s go outside and see if we can find the other two pools.’
‘Where is everyone?’ Marc asked. ‘All those people.’
‘Below stairs, I guess,’ Pippa said, giving a nervous giggle. ‘That’s what they say on telly about where the servants live. But take no notice of me. I’m guessing.’
‘Should we go downstairs and say hello?’
‘I guess we said hello when we arrived,’ Pippa said cautiously. ‘I’m not too sure anyone wants to say hello after that. Let’s go outside. It seems…safer.’
CHAPTER SIX
MAX spent two hours with Levout, which were two hours more than he wanted to spend with the man, but there were practicalities to work out. If he was stuck here then he might as well sort them out now. He emerged from the castle offices feeling vaguely tainted. He hated being related to this family. So many wrongs…
But at least now they could be sorted. He’d watched Levout trying to hide dismay as he’d gone through the initial changes he wanted instigated, and he thought, You don’t know the half of it. These were just palace changes. Tomorrow he’d start looking wider.
But now he was starting to be nervous about Pippa’s whereabouts. She’d threatened she’d leave if he didn’t stick around and he knew her well enough to realise she’d carry through with a threat. If she thought he was no longer in the castle…
He’d check. She’d probably be resting, he decided, and he headed for the nursery, climbing the vast staircase three stairs at a time.
The nursery was empty.
He rang the bell and an elderly housemaid appeared, looking apprehensive.
‘Where are the children?’ he asked.
‘They’re with Pippa. I mean…Miss Phillippa.’
‘Did she ask you to call her Pippa?’
‘Oh, yes,’ the woman said, and her nervousness disappeared in a smile. ‘I said to call me Beatrice but she said I was old enough to be her mother and she’d only call me Beatrice if I called her Pippa. She said that goes for all the staff, but we talked about it and thought maybe we wouldn’t call her that in front of Mr Levout.’
‘Very wise.’ What was the gossip below stairs? he wondered. They probably knew more than he did. ‘Is she in her room?’ he asked.
‘She says she’s sleeping here in the nursery.’
He stared at the enormous nursery. It was more like a gallery than a nursery, he thought. If he’d been stuck in here as a kid, alone, he’d have had nightmares. Maybe Pippa was right. But…
‘Are there enough beds?’
‘There are five bedrooms. But Pippa says they only need one.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘Yes, sir.’
He looked at Beatrice, who looked back at him, expressionless.
‘You don’t agree?’
‘I have grandchildren,’ she said gently. ‘If one of them was the new Crown Prince, maybe I’d be sleeping with him, too. And maybe the dog as well.’
She met his gaze, without a hint of a smile.
‘You’re saying it’s unsafe.’
‘No, sir. At least…‘ She hesitated. ‘Sir, I’m only a maid. But if it was my child who was Crown Prince, I’d hold him close.’
‘Because…’
‘I couldn’t say, sir,’ she said softly, turning back to her unpacking, leaving him vaguely worried. What was she telling him?
He’d promised Pippa they’d be safe. Was he sure? He thought back to Levout’s concerns. A lot of petty officialdom stood to lose substantial income if what Max planned came to pass.
Yeah, but they’d had a prince on the throne for four hundred years. Surely they couldn’t object-or do anything about it if they did object?
All the same, suddenly he thought that Pippa and Dolores sleeping with Marc wasn’t such a bad idea.
That worried him as well.
Dammit, these weren’t Pippa’s children. Here he was, asking her to be responsible again.
Where was she?
‘They were on the south lawn a little time ago,’ Beatrice offered. ‘They were playing in the fountain.’
The fountain? The huge marble monstrosity with dragons and warriors fighting it out on the front lawn?
He crossed to the French windows and stared down at the fountain-cum-sculpture in the middle of the immaculately manicured lawn.
There was no Pippa and no children but beside the fountain was a muddle of discarded clothes, and a patch of pristine lawn had been muddied.
Beatrice walked over to the window and peered where he was peering.
‘Our head gardener treats every blade of grass as a treasure. To let the children muddy it…’
‘You think he’ll be angry?’ Max stared at the mud in bemusement. ‘Whipping at dawn? You’ve met Pippa.’
‘I’ve met Pippa,’ the woman said and she ventured a cautious smile. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe he won’t be angry. It’s so wonderful to have children in the palace again. Maybe she has enough joy in her to charm even the gardening staff.’
She did. By the time Max reached the offending puddle the head gardener, a man in his seventies, was on his knees, carefully washing mud from the lawn. Before Max could reach him, another man appeared with half a dozen planks.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked, expecting complaints, but none was forthcoming.
‘Miss Pippa and the children enjoyed the fountain,’ the gardener said mildly. ‘So we thought we’d build a small deck so they could get in and out without muddying the lawn.’
A deck. For a fountain where there were swimming pool alternatives.
‘Did you tell them about the swimming pools?’
‘Oh, yes,’ the gardener said and
he chuckled. ‘The lady asked would I prefer to paddle in a normal pool or duck in and out of dragons. I’d never thought of it like that. But, yes, I could see her point.’
This was amazing. After only two hours in the castle Pippa was already instigating changes. And making friends. Max glanced cautiously around, thinking of Carver Levout. Chief of this whole administration. ‘Has Mr Levout given the okay?’ he asked.
‘No, sir, he hasn’t,’ the man told him, hauling his cap from his head in a gesture of deference. ‘But Miss Pippa said we could refer this to you. She said as Prince Regent you’re in charge now. Miss Pippa says she’s sure you’ll agree. Do you not, sir? Do you want us to stop?’
He didn’t want anything. He surely didn’t want to be so enmeshed in the workings of this place that he had to think about things like decking.
He had no intention of being hands-on in this place. There might be issues with how Carver ran the palace but he was competent, and Max intended to save his energy for the big battles.
‘Where is she now?’ he asked, and if his voice was a bit grim he couldn’t help it.
‘Miss Pippa saw the cows coming in to be milked,’ the gardener said. ‘I believe they’ve gone to the dairy to help. Sir, do you wish us to stop building the decking?’
What the heck? ‘You’ve started now. You might as well continue.’
The man smiled. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said.
Pippa and the children were indeed in the dairy, perched on a top rail overlooking the cows going into the bails. The twins and Marc were dressed in knickers and nothing else. Pippa was in jeans and a T-shirt. Her jeans were rolled up to the knees and her T-shirt was knotted under her breasts, leaving her midriff bare. They were all dripping wet.
They saw him and they waved him to come closer. No sound, though. They knew their cows.
‘Hi,’ Pippa whispered. ‘I thought this’d be really foreign but it’s just like home. Without Peculiar.’
Peculiar. He thought back to the cow who’d be even now causing trouble in Bert’s yard. ‘I bet there’s another Peculiar here,’ he said darkly. ‘There always is.’
‘There isn’t,’ she said. ‘I’ve been talking to the guys here and they’re saying these girls are really placid. I’m thinking we might take a few test-tubes home.’
‘Test-tubes?’
‘For cross-cultural fertilization,’ she said patiently. ‘Don’t you think that’d be ace?’
‘We might get some calves just like these,’ Marc said. The kids were glowing, high on warmth and good food and fun and excitement. They’d been good-looking kids back in Australia, Max thought, but now he looked at their beaming faces and he felt a twinge of…pride? They hadn’t complained once, he thought. He’d seen them tired and hungry and right out of their comfort zone but still they giggled and looked out on life as an adventure. Marc would make a great prince.
Pippa had done a wonderful job of raising them.
Would she agree that they stay?
‘Nothing’s decided,’ Pippa said before he could open his mouth.
‘How the hell do you know what I’m thinking?’
‘I can see it. I look in your eyes and I see this plus this plus this equals…ooh, let’s see…sixty-seven? And then you open your mouth and out it comes. Sixty-seven. Easy.’
He didn’t like that it was easy. He was feeling more and more confused.
‘Well, how do you understand what these guys are saying?’ he asked. ‘And the gardener. How did you talk him into building decking?’
‘He’s building decking?’
‘To protect his grass.’
‘What a sweetie.’
‘You talk French? I didn’t know you spoke French?’
‘I talk a type of French,’ she said. ‘I’ve always been told it’s a hybrid, some sort of rural dialect. Now I’ve discovered where it comes from.’ She beamed. ‘Here. Well, of course it makes sense, but how lucky’s that?’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Alice,’ she said simply. Then, as he looked even more confused, she explained. ‘Alice left her family when she was little more than a kid. She got into trouble, she ended up having Gina and being stuck with me, and she made the best of our life together. But there must have been a part of her that was homesick, for every night she’d read to the two of us in her own language. It became fun-it was Gina’s and my secret language when we were at school. After Gina got married we had to stop-Donald kept thinking we were talking about him-but it’s still a part of me. Finding there’s a whole country that speaks it is a joy.’
‘It’s fun,’ Marc said in the same language, and Max stared.
‘The kids too?’
‘Gina started it with Marc, maybe to make Alice happy. I kept it up. It’s always seemed comforting. Some sort of a link. And now we know who we’re linked to.’
Wow. He’d brought back family who spoke the language. The enormity of this almost took his breath away.
His task was suddenly a thousand per cent easier.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘You didn’t speak it to us. I honestly didn’t know what it was until I heard it here.’
‘I do speak it,’ he said, switching effortlessly. ‘My mother…well, there was an insistence that Thiérry learned it and it was easier for us to practise together.’
She frowned and tugged the two little bodies on either side of her closer so they couldn’t topple off the rail. ‘So we speak the language-sort of. Why does that make you relieved? I can understand pleased, but not relieved.’
‘I was just pleasantly surprised.’
‘And relieved.’
‘You can’t read my feelings.’
‘Yes, I can.’
‘Then don’t,’ he snapped, and the cow nearest him swerved his head and gave him a reproachful look.
‘Shh,’ Sophie whispered. ‘We have to be quiet until the cows get to know us.’
‘I wonder if I can help milk,’ Pippa said.
‘You surely don’t want to.’
‘No.’ She peeped a smile. ‘But it might make Mr Levout happier. He obviously thinks I’m one of the workers.’
‘He’s got another think coming. Speaking of which…he’s having dinner with us tonight.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘Eggs and toast in the nursery?’
‘Don’t push your luck. Do you have anything to wear to a formal dinner?’
She stared. She looked down at her dripping jeans and her bare feet.
She giggled.
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘As formal as you like. I’ll wear my dry jeans.’
‘Pippa…’
‘Don’t fret,’ she said. The rail they were perched on was four feet high. He was standing right beside her, so she was just above his head height. She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, an affectionate ruffle such as one she might have given Marc. Or Sophie or Claire. So there was no need for him to react…as he did. ‘I won’t disgrace you,’ she said.
‘I know that,’ he said stiffly and moved away.
‘I won’t do anything else either,’ she told him, quite kindly. ‘There’s no need to back off like a frightened horse.’
‘I did not!’
‘Yes, you did,’ Marc said. ‘Don’t you like it when Pippa rubs your head?’
‘No. Yes. I…’
‘He doesn’t like getting his feathers ruffled, kids,’ she told them, turning her attention back to the cows. ‘Leave him be to settle. What time’s dinner, Mr de Gautier?’
‘Seven. The kids will be fed at six. And before you say you and the kids are sticking together, Beatrice, the older of the two maids in the children’s wing, will sit with the children. If they give the slightest sign of needing you she’ll fetch you. But by the amount of excitement they’ve had today I suspect they’ll be well asleep.’
‘So might I be.’
‘You slept for fifteen hours on the plane. I’ve
got a crink on my shoulder to prove it.’
‘On your shoulder?’
‘Where your head landed. You fell sideways.’
‘I did not.’
‘No, you didn’t,’ he agreed cordially and she glowered.
‘How can I fall sideways in a first class seat?’ she demanded.
‘You wriggle in your sleep.’
‘Well, you snore.’
‘I don’t!’
‘Oh, yes, you do. We need an independent arbitrator. Failing that I refuse to accept responsibility for your crink.’
‘I accept your lack of responsibility,’ he said and grinned. ‘But about dinner. You think you might stay awake until seven?’
‘I’m pretty hungry,’ she told him. ‘But I guess I can always pinch a toast finger from the kids to keep me going.’
She was gorgeous.
Max left them and walked slowly back to the castle entrance, past the gardeners busily erecting their decking, past the pile of kids’ clothing…
The castle had subtly changed already.
She was gorgeous.
They were all great, he told himself hastily. The kids and Pippa would breathe new life into this place. He just had to persuade them to stay and things would be fine. The kids could have a glorious time. The load of responsibility would be lifted from Pippa’s shoulders and he could leave and get on with his life.
For the first time since he’d been approached after Bernard’s death, the awful feeling of being trapped was lessening.
Okay, he still needed to be Regent. He’d accepted that. But back in Paris his construction company was waiting, and in four short weeks he could be back there. He could keep on with the work he loved. He could cope with the legalities of the regency from a distance. He could stay low-key. Okay, he’d accept a bit of publicity now as he persuaded Pippa to keep the children here, but after that he could disappear into the background.
His mother need never be brought into it. It was a solution that suited them all. It felt great.
Or it should feel great. There was one little niggle.
The children’s safety?
That was crazy. The maid hadn’t said outright she was worried. He was reading too much into it.
The Prince’s Outback Bride Page 11