A Royal Marriage of Convenience

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A Royal Marriage of Convenience Page 6

by Marion Lennox


  ‘Tell me what you mean about wanting us to be a royal couple,’ she said.

  ‘Madame, I can’t.’

  ‘You can’t do what?’

  ‘I…’ He shook his head. ‘There’s orders.’

  ‘From who?’

  ‘From Monsieur Jacques. The husband of your sister.’

  ‘Orders to do what?’

  ‘To tell you nothing,’ he said miserably. ‘To let you do this mock-marriage thing.’

  ‘It’s not a mock marriage,’ Rose said, frowning more. ‘It’s a real one.’

  ‘It’s not,’ Griswold said simply. ‘I’ve been overhearing. What Julianna and Jacques have been telling the people is right. That this is a marriage of convenience.’

  ‘It’s still a marriage.’

  ‘Yes, but there’s more,’ he said unhappily. ‘Reports are that this marriage is a sham, and so is any goodwill you might have towards our people. You’re outsiders. You’ll sign the right papers and then disappear again. No wrongs will be righted. Taxes will continue to be bled from the people and sent overseas. Our country will be worse off.’

  ‘That’s not why we’re here,’ Nick said, frowning as much as Rose was. ‘Erhard Fritz—’

  ‘Erhard Fritz is being discredited by the government-controlled press,’ Griswold said. ‘There’s been a smear campaign. The press is portraying you both as upstart outsiders. You, monsieur, with vaguely sinister intentions and you, madame, as a greedy widow.’

  ‘Why are you telling us this?’ Rose said slowly, her eyes not leaving Griswold’s face.

  ‘Maybe…because of the dog?’ he said unhappily. ‘I know that sounds nonsense, but my daughter has a dog such as this one. I listened to you telling monsieur how you took in the dog, and I thought this can’t be a woman such as the press describes. I remembered the stories of you as a child. The press was fairer then, not controlled by the Council. You were always described as a tomboy, more interested in animals than in learning society manners. Then the way you both gave thanks. Little things, but…I heard you talking about a marriage of convenience, and I thought “it doesn’t fit”.’

  ‘It’s a way of repairing the damage,’ Nick said. ‘We can set in place reforms.’

  ‘Not if the people rise up against you,’ Griswold said. ‘Which they will if they think you’re here for your own gain. If you sell this plane straight away, they’ll think it’s a first act to siphon money. Things have been said, dreadful things.’

  ‘I’ve heard nothing of this,’ Nick snapped.

  ‘Jacques and his friends are too clever to use the main newsprints to spread the worst of the rumours,’ the man said unhappily. ‘But rumours have been sweeping the country nevertheless. And people like Erhard, people of sense, have been effectively silenced.’

  ‘There’s not a lot we can do about it,’ Rose said doubtfully. ‘We were told it would be simple.’

  ‘You need to get the people on side,’ Griswold said. ‘People like me. Working people. All of us. I do have some English. All the time I’ve been cooking, I’ve been listening to you. You both can speak our language. That’s wonderful. Madame, the people were fond of you once, as a child. They’ll remember that. You have the little dog. As you walk out of this plane, you need to look happy to be in the country. Happy to be home. You need to speak to as many people as possible. Ordinary people. You need to see and be seen. And you need to hold hands all the time. Speak to each other as a married couple. Don’t appear to have heard a single thing that I’ve just told you. And…’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And let the people know that you mean well. And that you’re not trying to deceive them. Let them know that you’re about to enter into a marriage.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THEY landed soon after, questions unresolved. ‘I think that my wife’s cousin will be driving the royal car,’ Griswold told them as the plane came to a standstill. ‘He will wish you well. As I do.’ But his contact with them was over. He stayed aboard, unhappily disappearing into the background as they emerged onto Alp de Montez soil.

  They weren’t sure what to expect when they arrived. After Erhard’s silence, Nick had been contacted by someone calling himself the palace Chief of Staff, telling them he was taking care of the arrangements for their arrival. ‘There’ll be some form of official reception,’ he’d told them, and when they stepped off the jet that was exactly what happened.

  There were a couple of dozen military officers standing to stiff attention, and a middle-aged man in hugely decorated dress-regalia stepped forward to greet them.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ the man said in stiff English. ‘Welcome to Alp de Montez, Your Royal Highnesses. Do you wish to inspect the guard now?’

  ‘No,’ Nick said before Rose could open her mouth. Then he looked at Rose. ‘We don’t want to inspect the guard, do we, sweetheart?’

  Sweetheart?

  Rose blinked. And then she got the message. What Griswold had said on the plane was that these people were expecting a marriage of convenience, a marriage designed to fleece the country. Somehow they had to change that image.

  She swallowed, then grabbed Nick’s hand and held tightly. ‘We might,’ she said. Then, ‘I can’t tell you how pleased we are to be here,’ she said, in a voice that carried across the tarmac to the assembled troops, speaking in the Italian-French mix that was the country’s own dialect. ‘I loved this country as a child,’ she said. ‘I needed to leave with my mother when I was fifteen—you know my parents were separated?—and Nick was orphaned early. That’s left us ignorant of what we should know of our heritage. So you’ll need to excuse us as we find our feet. You’ll have to teach us, but we’re here to learn.’

  Then she smiled sweetly at the greeting official, who was looking stunned, and just a little bit horrified. ‘Thank you so much for meeting us,’ she said, and before he knew what she was about she’d handed Hoppy over to him, then kissed the astounded man on both cheeks. ‘I was sure we’d be welcome,’ she said. ‘You’re truly kind.’

  Then, before the official could say a word, while Nick stood on the tarmac with the warm evening breeze adding to his sense of unreality—even though it was late spring it had been freezing back at Heathrow—Rose grabbed his hand and towed him over to the assembled troops. She smiled at the first soldier and asked his name. Before Nick knew it, they were working their way down the line, greeting every soldier individually, taking their hands and shaking them. Forcing them to lower their guns as they did. And Rose was giving each of them her very nicest smile.

  By the time they’d finished Nick was feeling gobsmacked. Maybe they all were. The line didn’t look nearly as formal, and the stiff, unsmiling faces were, well, trying not to smile, but smiling for all that.

  ‘So who do we meet next?’ she asked, still beaming, returning to the official and Hoppy. She took Hoppy back from the stunned officer, thanking him with a smile.

  ‘Your limousine’s waiting to take you to the palace,’ the man said stiffly.

  ‘I don’t know your name,’ Rose said.

  ‘I’m Chief of Staff,’ the man said.

  ‘But a name?’ Rose said gently, smiling some more, and the man stared at her like she was speaking gobbledegook. ‘I’m Rose,’ she said, giving him an easy example. ‘This is Nick.’

  ‘Sir. Madam.’

  ‘Yes, but we have names too,’ she said, fixing him with a smile that took Nick aback even further. This wasn’t some wilting violet. This was a woman determined to make her point. A woman starting her adventuring.

  ‘Jean Dupeaux,’ the man muttered, and she smiled some more.

  ‘It’s lovely to meet you, Jean. If you’re our Chief of Staff, then I guess we’ll see lots of you. This is my dog, Hoppy. Are you coming with us in the limousine?’

  ‘I…No.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ she said brightly. ‘I guess we’ll see you at the palace, then. Does the driver know where to go?’

  ‘Of course.’ He seemed
offended.

  ‘I’m so sorry. Of course he does. You’ll have to forgive us a lot as we learn our way round,’ she told him. ‘I have so much to remember. But don’t worry. We’re here for the long haul, and we’ll get it right in the end.’

  They didn’t speak for the first couple of minutes in the limousine. It was as if both needed to catch their breath. Certainly Nick did. What had just happened seemed extraordinary. A salute of arms to start with, and then Rose’s performance.

  ‘Griswold was right,’ she said at last, staring out the window at the passing scenery. They were less than a mile from the airport, travelling towards the nearby city, but the towering, snow-capped mountains were breathtaking. In the fields beside the road the farmers were gathering in the hay, forming bales in the way farmers had done for a thousand years.

  ‘It seems we’ve been made enemies before we even arrived,’ she said slowly. ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘Maybe we should have expected it,’ he said.

  What else should they have expected? The looks they’d been given by the troops before Rose’s impromptu greeting session had been aloof and disdainful. This was a tiny segment of the army, and the army must be powerful. Where did the army come into this?

  Rose was looking as thoughtful as he was. And there was a trace of fear behind her eyes.

  Hoppy was on her knee. He wriggled off, crossed the gap in the seat between them and put a paw tentatively on Nick’s knee.

  ‘He thinks you need a hug,’ Rose said.

  ‘I don’t need a hug,’ he said, stunned.

  ‘I might,’ she said diffidently.

  ‘I’m not sure that’s wise.’

  ‘Right,’ she said, and lifted Hoppy back into her arms and hugged him. ‘Sorry.’

  Why couldn’t he have hugged her? Why did she have him so off-balance? They were in trouble together. It made sense to be able to give each other comfort.

  But if he hugged her now…

  Don’t go there.

  ‘We need to do some fast footwork,’ he said, trying desperately to move forward. Past the emotional. ‘Rose, we know nothing. Where the hell is Erhard?’

  ‘I was sure he’d meet us,’ she said.

  His legal mind was trying to sort things. Things other than how close Rose was sitting to him. Important stuff.

  Only he was having a huge amount of trouble persuading his mind to think past her. She was messing with his equilibrium in a way he didn’t understand.

  Think. Think!

  Back in London this succession had seemed reasonable—even sensible. Now it seemed fraught. Two people in a strange land, threatening those in power.

  ‘Maybe we need to bail out for a bit and rethink,’ he said dubiously. ‘Damn, I didn’t foresee this. I had my people—’

  ‘My people?’

  ‘My colleagues. I’m not an international lawyer for nothing. They checked this place. There’s never been armed insurrection in any of the Alp countries. There didn’t seem a threat. But now…’

  ‘I’m not going home,’ Rose said.

  ‘We might have to.’

  ‘I’m not going home,’ she said again, and hugged Hoppy tighter. Hoppy gave a doleful canine sigh—he was obviously accustomed to being an emotional squeeze-bag. ‘I might be persuaded to treat Hawaiian animals, or something similar, but no more in Yorkshire.’

  ‘What’s wrong with Yorkshire?’

  ‘Too much family,’ she muttered. ‘Alright if you want a career as a battery hen. And, by the way, that includes you,’ she said, glaring as he gazed at her in astonishment. ‘I don’t think I said, but you try and protect me and I refuse to be responsible for my actions. No matter that we’re getting married—name only. No family. No ties. And I want to get this place sorted. Right. What’s next?’ And she looked so fierce that he held up his hands in mock surrender.

  What a statement! His desire to hug her should have stopped right there. Only for some dumb reason it intensified. He had to fight to make himself agree.

  ‘Sure,’ he managed. ‘That’s how I feel too.’ Or was it?

  ‘Just so you know,’ she said, still glowering. ‘But, even if I didn’t feel like that, I still wouldn’t run. Yes, I got concerned when I didn’t hear from Erhard this week, and I was spooked when the press arrived, but I’ve cut my ties now and I’m over it. So move on. We’ll get some plans in place and do what Erhard wanted. Now.’

  She looked so fierce that he smiled. But he was thinking hard. What lay ahead seemed much more of a challenge than it had seemed back home, but maybe he, like Rose, was glad to move on. For different reasons. She was leaving family. He was leaving a vacuum.

  No. Just boredom. He wanted a challenge.

  And it didn’t hurt that he’d face this challenge with Rose beside him. He just had to resist the desire to…hug.

  No. What he really wanted to do was kiss her until her toes curled. Or his toes curled.

  What he really needed, on the other hand, was a cold shower. If he did anything so dumb she’d slug him into the middle of next week.

  ‘We need to get meetings in place straight away,’ he said slowly, managing to think a bit further. ‘We’ll get the armed-forces chiefs to the palace. Let them know what we intend. Figure out where they stand. We need to speak to each individual councillor.’

  ‘So you will stay?’ she said, and he glanced at her in surprise.

  ‘For as long as it takes, Rose, yes. I promised, and I’ll keep my word.’

  ‘It’s only…I’m aware that it’s me who’s supposed to be sovereign,’ she muttered. ‘But I don’t have the skills.’

  ‘I suspect neither of us have the skills. But no one else does either, so it’s fight through it or run. You’ve said you won’t run, and neither will I.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He smiled. ‘You know, from all accounts, prince consorts never had such a bad time of it in the past,’ he said. ‘All that wheeling and dealing behind closed doors. I’ll be the one who’ll tell you whose head to chop off, you do the dirty work, and then you get the flack and not me.’

  ‘Oh, great.’

  ‘I’m truly noble,’ he said, and he managed to grin.

  She tried not to smile. She failed.

  She looked enchanting, he thought. The more he looked at her the more enchanted he became. She was still huddled in her oversized duffel coat—not because she needed its warmth, he suspected, but because she found the familiar smell of it comforting. Hoppy certainly did. The little dog was huddling against her, under her coat, only his nose exposed in quivering anxiety.

  Me and my dog against the world.

  ‘I don’t think this’ll work if you’re prince consort,’ she said softly.

  He thought about it for a moment. ‘That’s what the whole idea is.’

  ‘No, it’s not. I don’t think we should be crown and deputy.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but—’

  ‘Hey, you know I’m really not royal,’ she said, interrupting him. ‘My mother was married and then left to fend for herself. My father married her on a whim, tired of her within a year and then, as far as I can tell, never touched her again. He went from scandal to scandal, while my mother stayed in the castle and cared for the old Prince. There were visitors, and I was born with red hair, and I’ll not be judging her for it. She must have been unbearably lonely.’ She touched her flaming head and grinned. ‘So there you are. I was born royal but I’m not really royal, whereas you…Your mother really was a princess.’

  ‘Yes, but…’ He was getting distracted. By her hair.

  ‘But what?’

  ‘It’s the way it has to work,’ he said with difficulty. ‘It’s you who’s in line for the throne.’

  ‘But you want it,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘You’re aching to get in there and do stuff. You can’t do that if you’re not a full partner.’

  ‘I don’t think you can devolve authority until you have it,’ he said, striving to keep it light.
<
br />   ‘I guess not,’ she whispered, and then her voice firmed a little. ‘I guess I have to take it on. I can cope. I have before.’ He watched her face became more resolute.

  David aiming his slingshot?

  They were reaching the outskirts of the city now. It was Saturday at twilight, the light just starting to fade.

  ‘Where does everyone here go on a Saturday night?’ she asked suddenly, and then as Nick looked blank she reached forward and slid back the glass partitioning them from the driver.

  ‘If you and your family were wanting a fun night out tonight,’ she said to the driver, ‘Where would you go?’

  ‘Madame?’ the driver said, confused, and she repeated her question.

  ‘What’s a good local drinking place in the heart of the city?’ she said. ‘Maybe with a band playing. Is there somewhere like that?’

  ‘The army officers use Maison d’Etre.’

  ‘No, not the army,’ she said, while Nick stayed as confused as the driver. ‘You. Or the farmers we just saw. Where do most people go?’

  ‘I live just two miles from here,’ the man said dubiously. ‘It’s Saturday night. It’s harvest time and the weather’s good. The time-honoured local tradition at this time of year is to gather down at the river bank not far from here, or at other picnic spots round the country.’ He hesitated. ‘There’s not the money for families to go to pubs any more. Taxes are terrible. The army and the politicians use the restaurants and pubs, but most of them, well, they’ve closed for lack of patronage.’

  ‘And down at the river?’

  ‘That’s where we go,’ he said simply. ‘Each district has its own meeting place. We go there or we stay home.’

  ‘But the young ones, they go to the pictures and things?’

  ‘If you’re in a well-paid job. But there are few well-paid jobs.’

  ‘So if we wanted to meet the people…’

  ‘Maybe you could go on the television,’ he said doubtfully.

  ‘We don’t want to do that,’ Rose said. ‘Not yet.’ She visibly swallowed a gulp. ‘I don’t think I’d be very good at television.’

 

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