A Royal Marriage of Convenience

by Marion Lennox

  ‘Ruby,’ Nick said blankly.

  ‘If you please, sir, they’re all in the conservatory, and Monsieur Erhard says maybe you could be down in half an hour, but if there was anything you needed before then…um…anything at all…’

  ‘I believe we have everything we need,’ Nick said, attempting to sound severe, and the girl’s tight-lipped expression finally cracked.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she said, and she smiled. And then she giggled. ‘Yes, sir, I see that you do.’

  ‘You realise discipline in this castle is shot to pieces?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rose, chuckling more than the girl had chuckled, and hugging Hoppy as she rolled back out from behind the settee. ‘I believe they’re my knickers you’re standing on, sir.’

  He bent and picked them up. They were pink and white and lacy, with butterflies embroidered on them.

  ‘My God,’ he said with reverence. ‘And I stood on them. Why didn’t I notice these last night? Were these special for your wedding?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, and then she giggled again. ‘Nope. I tell a lie. I wear knickers like this all the time.’

  ‘You’re kidding me.’ He held them to the light as one might hold up a piece of priceless art. ‘You wear these? As a country vet?’

  ‘I wear brown, grungy overalls and mud, and I smell like cattle,’ she said. ‘I have to be a girl some time.’

  ‘It’s a tragedy,’ he said, awed. ‘All that time they’ve been under brown overalls?’

  ‘Um…’ She choked back another giggle, then thought about what the girl had said and suddenly it was easy to stop laughing. ‘She said Julianna was here.’

  ‘And Ruby,’ Nick said, in a tone of deep foreboding.

  ‘Ruby?’

  ‘If it’s the Ruby I think it is, it’s my foster mother.’

  ‘Your foster mother.’ She gathered her duvet round her and rose awkwardly to her feet. ‘I didn’t…’ She frowned. ‘You didn’t ask her to the wedding?’

  ‘I sort of did. I told her she was welcome but it was a political move, business only, and there was no reason for her to come. Did you ask your in-laws?’ he retaliated.

  ‘As a matter of fact I did,’ she said. ‘Not only did they know why I was coming here, I told them the date of the wedding, and I told them they’d be welcome. Gladys slammed the phone down on me. So why does Ruby’s arrival make you sound scared?’

  ‘Because.’

  She grinned. ‘You sound about ten years old. Because why?’

  ‘Because she’ll care.’

  ‘I see,’ she said cautiously. ‘And this would be a disaster?’

  ‘She’ll hate that it’s not a real marriage,’ he said. ‘She’ll hate that it’s a fraud.’

  It was like a slap. Rose stilled.

  ‘A fraud,’ she whispered. ‘I…Oh, yes. Sorry.’

  ‘She’s always wanted her boys to marry,’ he said, not seeing her dismay as he concentrated on the possible consequences of Ruby’s arrival. ‘She married for love, and it’s her ambition to see us fall in love just like her. She’d never understand why we did this. But Ruby knows I go my own road. Why she’s here now…’

  ‘And Julianna,’ Rose whispered, pushing aside Nick’s troubles in the face of her own. ‘Why would she be here? She was invited to the wedding, but she didn’t come either. I haven’t seen her since that awful night.’

  ‘And they’re all waiting for us in the conservatory,’ Nick said morosely. ‘You think we ought to knot sheets and escape through the window?’

  ‘It’s hardly dangerous,’ she said.

  ‘If Ruby’s mad at me it might be.’

  ‘If Ruby’s mad at you then you deserve something dire.’

  ‘Hey, you’re on my side.’

  ‘Says who? Can I have my panties, please?’

  ‘Are you going to put them on?’

  ‘I think bluebirds today,’ she said with dignity. ‘Can I remind you—sir—that this is my bedroom, and all my clothes are here, and everything you own is in your bedroom down the hall? Therefore you should leave.’

  ‘Right,’ he said. Dazed. ‘Bluebirds.’ He almost visibly swallowed. ‘But Rose?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’ll wait for you at the head of the stairs,’ he told her. ‘I think we should go down together.’

  ‘There’s safety in numbers?’

  ‘I hope there is,’ he said.

  Nick returned to his bedroom. The domestic staff had been before him. All evidence of the night’s intrusion had disappeared. He showered and dressed as fast as he could, then returned to the head of the stairs.

  Rose was already waiting for him. ‘How the…?’

  ‘You obviously take longer putting on your make-up than I do,’ she told him, and smirked and started down the stairs.

  She was wearing ancient jeans, an oversized sweatshirt and shabby sneakers. She’d tugged her hair back into a simple ponytail. Her face was scrubbed clean of all make-up. Anyone further from the elegant bride of yesterday he couldn’t imagine.

  But somewhere under those jeans were bluebirds. He stood at the top of the stairs and forgot to move, so she had to stop at the first landing and turn to him, exasperated.

  ‘Coming?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said uncertainly, and she grinned.

  ‘I couldn’t find the bluebirds. It’s bumblebees.’

  He nearly tripped and fell all the way to the bottom. Somehow he kept his feet and managed to follow her through the maze of corridors to the conservatory. Bumblebees. They passed three of the domestic staff on their way, and each had a smile as wide as a house plastered on their faces.

  This wasn’t a house shocked to the core by news of an assassination attempt, he thought. Their movements since the intrusion had obviously been noted and were giving pleasure. Maybe news of the butterflies was winging its way round the castle right now.

  But not the bumblebees. He was feeling decidedly proprietary about those bumblebees.

  His mind was having trouble focusing on anything it should be focusing on, and it was almost a relief when they reached the conservatory and Rose pushed open the door. This was an orangery, a conservatory planned in the days when oranges had been an inconceivable luxury in a climate too cold for them. There were orange trees in beautifully ordered lines under the magnificent glass-roof. A truly royal tiled floor—a coat of arms in tiles—was magnificent enough to take the breath away.

  But Nick scarcely saw it. There was a table in the bow window at the end of the long, glass-panelled conservatory. There were three people sitting at it.

  Erhard. Julianna.

  Ruby.

  Uh-oh.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have told her, he thought nervously. But she’d have found out anyway. Ruby was a diminutive white-haired lady. She was dressed in her customary pastel twin-set, tweed skirt and sensible shoes. A string of pearls her foster sons had given her for her sixtieth birthday showed she’d considered this day worth dressing up for, but there was little of the celebration about her small person now. She looked very, very hostile.

  She rose, and Nick had the same urge to run that he’d had when he’d been ten years old and she’d discovered him ‘making lollies’—rolling dollops of butter in brown sugar and eating them with delicious abandonment. Half a pound of butter had disappeared before she’d found him.

  ‘Nikolai Jean Louis de Montez,’ she said now, in exactly the same voice as she’d used then. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  He had an almost irresistible urge to hold Rose in front of him like a shield. Only the knowledge that Rose was staring at Julianna like she was seeing a ghost stopped him.

  ‘I did say I’d fly you over if you wanted to come,’ he said weakly, and Ruby stalked towards him with such determined anger that for an awful moment he was afraid she’d box his ears.

  When had she ever, though? Even after ‘the butter incident’ she’d simply made him walk the two miles to the nearest dairy to buy som
e more, and then go without butter on his toast for a week.

  But she was angry. Boy, was she angry.

  ‘You told me,’ she said icily, ‘that you were marrying a European princess in name only so she could claim the throne. You said it wasn’t a real marriage. A contract only, if I’m not mistaken. Two signatures on a piece of paper. Why would I want to come and watch that?’

  ‘It was only supposed to be…’ He shook his head, not knowing where to go from here. ‘How did you get here?’ he tried instead.

  ‘Never you mind,’ she snapped. ‘Sam said I was never to tell anyone. Such nice soldiers. They had me here before breakfast.’

  He might have known. Ruby had her own means of getting where she wanted, when she wanted. And he wasn’t off the hook yet.

  ‘I would have come before,’ she said, darkly glowering. ‘But I was babysitting Pierce’s children. There I was, stuck with four kiddies, when I opened this week’s Woman’s Journal—it has the best macramé patterns—and there you were! And there was Rose, bending over a whole litter of piglets, and I knew the moment I saw her that this wasn’t a paper contract. Then I had to wait for Pierce to get home and for Sam to organise transport before I could come. And I missed it.’

  She fixed him with a look that said, ‘stay right there; I’ll deal with you later’. And she turned to Rose.

  But Rose was facing her own demons. Julianna.

  It was Julianna, but she was barely recognisable.

  This wasn’t the elegant young woman Nick had met the first night they’d been in the country. Julianna was dressed in quality trousers and blouse, as she had been that night, but that was as far as the elegance went. A savage bruise marred her left eye. Something had hit her hard. Her hair, twisted into an elegant chignon the last time Nick had seen her, was now a riot of unmanaged curls. Her face was blotched from weeping, and rivulets of mascara had edged down her cheeks. She looked much older than Rose, he thought. Drawn. Haggard.

  ‘Rose, I never meant…’ she was saying, while Rose kept staring at her like she was seeing a ghost.

  ‘Never meant what?’ she whispered.

  ‘Last night. I swear, I didn’t know. I thought…’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Rose asked, and Julianna choked on a sob, reached for her sister’s hands, but then seemed to think better of it. She retreated, backing against the table, holding to the table edge for support.

  ‘I thought Jacques had given up,’ she whispered. ‘He said we’d go to Paris—he said we’d skimmed all we needed and the panel was never going to come down on our side. Rose, I married Jacques when I was seventeen. I know that’s no excuse, and I could have left him, but I kept hoping things would be better. I thought I loved him. I never—’

  ‘You wanted to rule,’ Rose said bluntly, and Julianna blenched even further.

  ‘From the time I was little our father told me it was my right. He said I was the one. He made it sound so wonderful, and I always felt the chosen one. But of course there was always Keifer and Konrad, and ruling seemed impossible. Only now it turns out Jacques knew Konrad would die young. Because—’

  She faltered, then took a deep breath and continued, forcing every word out as if she could scarcely bear it. ‘I swear I didn’t know, but maybe our father knew. I think now that’s why Jacques married me.’

  ‘Oh, Jules.’

  ‘What did your father know?’ Erhard asked, but she shook her head. Whatever had to be said must be said in her own time.

  ‘I knew by the time Konrad died that Jacques didn’t love me,’ she said, and she tilted her chin in a gesture that mirrored Rose’s. ‘I’ve been so miserable, I just stopped…seeing. When Erhard came to see me after Konrad was killed, I told him that Jacques could do what he wanted with the country. I didn’t care.’

  They were all focused on her now. Ruby had turned from Nick and was looking at Julianna with a look Nick recognised. Ruby had raised seven foster-sons. When a new boy had arrived at her home, this was the look she’d used.

  Here was a chick that needed a mother hen, her look said. But Julianna was in her late twenties.

  ‘You sound like you have that depression thing,’ Ruby said sympathetically. ‘I had it after my husband died. It was like I was in a fog, and the fog was too thick to push through.’

  ‘I did,’ Julianna said, choking on a sob. ‘I do. Last week, after that awful time with the crowd, we went to Paris. But then yesterday Jacques said we had to come back. He said we weren’t coming to the wedding, but we had to be near.’

  ‘Why?’ Erhard asked, and she put her hands to her face again as if she couldn’t bear to go on.

  ‘He didn’t tell me,’ she whispered. ‘He’s stopped telling me anything. I think he’s even stopped thinking I can hear. It’s my stupid fault. It’s just been easier to agree, to do what he says, to be left alone.’

  ‘Only last night…’ Erhard prodded.

  ‘He was excited,’ Julianna whispered. ‘We were staying in one of the palace hunting-lodges, which was weird, all on its own. But I wasn’t thinking. Or maybe I was thinking—of you, Rose, and your wedding, and how you were my sister and you were being married and I wasn’t there.’

  ‘You weren’t either?’ Ruby said, and sniffed her disgust. ‘I might have known.’

  ‘I went to bed,’ Julianna said, too miserable to be deflected. ‘But I heard him downstairs, pacing, pacing. And then I started thinking. The fog lifted a little. I heard him on the phone saying we were only twenty miles away and we could be at the palace in an hour. And of course there’d be suspicions, but the money transfer was impossible to trace and there was no proof. And hadn’t he succeeded with Konrad? A car crash with a drunk driver, he said, and he sounded really pleased with himself. No proof at all. And then Erhard…’

  She looked wildly at Erhard, as if she couldn’t believe he could be here. ‘He said to whoever it was, “But you should have done better with Fritz. The old man turned up today. You were meant to hit him so hard he’d never stick his nose into what’s not his business again.” He had you bashed. He…’

  ‘He didn’t,’ Erhard said gently, reluctantly. ‘His thugs came to my home two weeks ago. My wife’s poodle raised the alarm. They killed our Chloe, but Hilda and I managed to escape.’ He closed his eyes, remembering the terror, but then he looked directly at Rose and then at Nick.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I should have told you. I thought with all the publicity he’d never try to hurt you two. I so wanted this wedding to go ahead. I took Hilda out of the country because she was terrified. I reassured her. But I didn’t think he’d try…I misjudged.’

  ‘We all misjudged,’ Julianna whispered. ‘I never thought he would, but he did. Jacques did. “We’ll get away with them both,” he told the guy on the end of the phone. I knew what he was saying. He’d killed Konrad and he was going to kill Rose and Nick.’

  There was an appalled silence. Julianna was staring blindly at Rose. ‘You’re my sister, Rose,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t get away from that. When I thought of what he was planning…’

  She swallowed, fighting for the energy to go on. ‘Finally I went downstairs and asked him,’ she managed. ‘Even then I couldn’t believe he’d go that far. But he just looked at me as if I was stupid, as if I was nothing. And then he hit me.’

  ‘Oh, my dear,’ Ruby whispered.

  ‘He pulled me back up to the bedroom and locked me in,’ Julianna said dully. ‘He ripped out my phone extension. He said I was in it up to my neck, and if I said a word I’d go down first. And I couldn’t get out. I tried and I yelled, but he laughed and told me to take a tranquillizer. Take five, he yelled. And then the phone rang downstairs. I heard Jacques say one word: “Well?” That’s all. Then silence.’

  She swallowed, and Nick could see the horrors of the night were still with her. ‘I was sick,’ she whispered. ‘I thought it was over.’ She took a jagged breath and looked at Rose as if she still couldn’t believe her sister co
uld still be alive. ‘Then the front door slammed and I heard his car. The lodge-keeper came by this morning and let me out, but Jacques was gone. I rang here and they said you were safe, but I had to see. The lodge-keeper brought me here.’ She shook her head as if trying to shake away a nightmare. ‘Rose, I swear I didn’t know what he intended. I’d never…I’d never…’

  ‘I know you wouldn’t,’ Rose said softly. Ruby moved aside—as Ruby would; the woman had the most finely tuned intuition Nick had ever known—and Rose took Julianna’s hands.

  ‘Even last night, when Nick said it had to be Jacques, I still knew it couldn’t be you,’ Rose said softly. ‘You’re my sister.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Julianna said, and she pulled back and put her face in her hands. ‘What must you all think of me? I don’t want this. I hate it. I want to be out. I want to be ordinary. I want to go somewhere, breed horses, take in washing, anything but this. I don’t want to be royal.’

  ‘Taking in washing’s a bit extreme,’ Rose said, and Julianna choked on something between laughter and a sob.

  ‘I don’t care. But how can I do anything? Jacques will never let me.’

  ‘No one owns you,’ Rose said. ‘I’m just figuring that out. You need to do what you need to do. As for the royal bit—can’t you resign?’

  ‘You can’t just resign.’

  ‘Edward did,’ Rose said. ‘Back in England. With Mrs Simpson. Isn’t that right? He was supposed to be king, but he signed something that said he was giving up his rights to the throne. Erhard, can’t Julianna resign?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ The old man looked grey. He groped blindly for a chair, and Nick pulled one forward for him.

  There was too much emotion here, Nick thought. If he wasn’t careful Erhard would collapse. He strode out through the conservatory doors to the sitting room beyond. There were decanters on the sideboard. He poured a generous brandy for the old man and carried it back.

  Erhard hardly registered when he placed it in his fingers. ‘I should have warned you of the dangers,’ he whispered. ‘I wanted this wedding to go ahead so much.’

  ‘Drink a little,’ Nick urged. ‘And don’t look like you’ve just confessed murder. We have our assassin from last night under lock and key, and everything else palls into insignificance.’ He shook his head. ‘And you’ve lost your dog. I suspect Rose will say there’s nothing so dreadful.’