‘You don’t want to stay there?’
‘No.’ That was unequivocal, at any rate. Then, ‘We did decide to do this for the right reasons, didn’t we, Nick?’
He had to be honest here. ‘Yes.’
‘It will make life better for the people of Alp de Montez?’
‘I think so,’ he said reluctantly. ‘My law firm is heavily geared to international disputes. We have people on the ground all over the world. The consensus is that we really can make a difference.’
‘We don’t have a choice then,’ she said heavily.
‘There is a choice, Rose,’ he said. He’d pulled up at traffic lights. They’d turned green, but he wasn’t shifting. There were horns blaring behind him but he thought, no, he had to concentrate. ‘You can walk away.’
‘I can’t walk away,’ she said. ‘Unless I have an alternative.’
‘You can stay where you are.’
‘That’s what I meant,’ she whispered. ‘Alp de Montez is my alternative.’
He didn’t understand. ‘Look, we can call the whole thing off.’
‘Do you want to?’
‘Hold on a minute,’ he told her, and moved forward before the motorists banked up behind him got out of their cars and thumped him. He steered into a bus stop and stopped. ‘Rose, this is up to you,’ he said gently. ‘You’re the one first in line. I’m the supporting role here.’
‘I guess.’ She took a ragged breath. ‘But you will support me?’
Five minutes ago he’d been thinking he couldn’t. But now…It was only for a month or so, and it would make a difference. Rose was taking this on for much, much longer.
If she was prepared to do it, how could he say no?
‘Of course I’ll support you,’ he said gently. ‘We’re in this together.’
‘For a month.’
‘And then I’ll be on the end of the phone. I won’t leave you isolated. We’ll set up supports.’
‘But you’ll stay involved?’
He took a deep breath. ‘Yes.’ Where had that come from? The Nikolai de Montez mantra was ‘never get involved’. But this was different. This was for a country.
This was for Rose.
‘Yes,’ he said again. ‘I’ll stay as involved as you want.’
‘Then I guess I can cope with the press,’ she said, still sounding shaky. ‘The plane’s due to pick me up in Newcastle at two. You swear you’ll be on it?’
What was a man to say to that? Despite misgivings. Despite Ruby.
‘Yes,’ he said, and he was committed.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE plane was fitted out like something out of a James Bond movie. Nikolai was accustomed to first-class international travel, but this was mind boggling.
He couldn’t cut and run now, leaving Rose to face the consequences, but he felt like it. He buckled his seat belt with grim resolution.
For the first part of the flight he was alone, apart from a dark-suited, elderly attendant who spoke in monosyllables. Somewhere up front there’d be a flight crew, but he never saw them. Erhard had made the arrangements. He just had to trust Erhard. Only, why hadn’t Erhard answered his calls for the last few days? How sick was he?
What was Nick walking into?
Rose was due to catch the flight in Newcastle. He’d committed. To marriage.
Yes, to marriage, and it seemed weird. He sank into the luxurious upholstery and let his thoughts go where they willed. They asked questions he couldn’t answer. Things like, would Rose get cold feet? What if Erhard’s illness wasn’t the reason for his withdrawal? How alone would they be?
It wasn’t an uncivilised country they were going to, he told himself, his unease deepening with every mile they drew further from London. The worst that could happen was that he and Rose were asked to leave. Or refused permission to land.
The plane was in the air. His escape was cut off. Next step Rose.
‘Would you like refreshments? A beer?’ an expressionless fight attendant-Griswold, according to his name badge-asked him, and Nick shook his head.
‘No, thank you.’ He didn’t need a beer. He needed to keep every faculty crystal-clear.
The attendant, a sober-suited man in his sixties, gave him a searching look. Nick smiled; the man seemed anxious and the last thing Nick wanted to do was make the locals nervous. But Griswold simply bowed briefly and left him alone.
And then they were landing at Newcastle. Griswold appeared again and told him there was no need for him to stir. ‘The Princess Rose-Anitra is in the terminal,’ he told him. ‘It’s raining outside. I’d advise you to stay put.’
The Princess Rose-Anitra. The name took him aback.
The Princess Rose-Anitra, boarding the official plane of the royal family of Alp de Montez. To join her future husband.
The fantasy had begun.
And here came the bride. Right-
She was also carrying a dog. Some sort of terrier.
His feeling of unreality took a step back. Rose grounded this thing in practicality, he thought, and the craziness seemed possible again as he watched her run.
Seemingly ignoring the rain, she smiled at Griswold at the foot of the stairs, and Nick found himself smiling back. This wasn’t fantasy. Rose was a country veterinarian with a scruffy looking dog and clothes past their use-by date.
She just looked like…Rose.
She stepped into the cabin, laughing at something Griswold said behind her, speaking in a language Nick recognised.
She saw him and she stopped short. Her smile faded, and she looked suddenly uncertain. Maybe even a little scared.
‘Um…Hi,’ she said.
‘Hi.’ As a response to the occasion it lacked a certain sophistication, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of a more intelligent response.
‘You don’t mind sharing a cabin with Hoppy?’ she asked.
‘Hoppy?’
‘Because of the leg,’ she said kindly, as if he was a bit thick. She smiled down at the little dog in her arms and then checked out the plane. She seemed almost overwhelmed by its opulence, swallowing a couple of times like she was trying to dredge up courage. But somehow she made her voice light and smiley. ‘Wow,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve hardly ever flown before. Surely they can’t all be like this?’
‘No,’ Nick said. They certainly weren’t. The two double settees that were the airline’s only passenger seats were more luxurious than any seat he’d ever been in. They were fitted with seat belts, but that was their only concession to airline strictures. There was white shag-pile carpet. There were tiny side-tables with indents to hold wine glasses-all carved from the one magnificent piece of mahogany. A partition at the rear led to a bedroom-he could see a magnificent bed set up, ready for use. The entire interior was painted white with muted pinks, with soft hangings disguising the harsh outer casing of the airline’s metal cabin.
This was definitely not cattle class.
But Rose had moved on, shrugging off her discomfort with her coat. She placed the little dog on the seat beside
