meal to persuade her, and he already knew persuasion would take some doing.
‘I really don’t want to be a prince,’ he said, and his eyes met hers over the glass. ‘Will you believe that?’
‘Um…’ She took another cautious sip and made her decision. ‘No.’
He had to make her believe. Otherwise nothing would make sense. ‘Fame,’ he said slowly, ‘isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. This principality is small, but as the eldest-indeed, only-male of the royal family, the spotlight is now on me. There’s a population of a tiny country waiting to see what I do.’
He motioned out the window to the tiny holdings scattered along the river. ‘There are so many families whose lives depend on my choice-and your choice, too.’
‘Don’t you dare try to blackmail me,’ she snapped, suddenly angry, and his expression softened.
‘No. I won’t. But according to my mother, our needs mesh.’
She glared some more. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘A year as my wife would set you up for life.’
‘I don’t need to be set up-’
‘You can barely afford to eat now,’ he pointed out. ‘Michael is still at secondary school and he wants to be an engineer. How are you going to afford three of them at university?’
She placed her champagne glass carefully down on the table. All of a sudden the bubbles tasted like vinegar.
‘You really have pried…’
‘My mother has on my behalf.’ His calm gaze met hers, and his hands reached out across the table and took hers. She didn’t pull back. He looked down at those work-worn hands, and his mouth twisted into the mocking smile she was starting to know well.
‘You want a resume of all my mother found out about you?’
‘No, I-’
‘Because I intend to give it to you.’ He shook his head at her indignant protest, released her hands and sat back, assessing. His eyes rested on hers, like she was an enigma he was still trying to figure out.
‘Your mother was an invalid,’ he started, watching her face. ‘She had multiple sclerosis. She should never have had one child, let alone four, but your father was desperate for a son. After three daughters, she finally died giving birth to Michael. That was when you were ten.’
‘I don’t-’
‘I’m saying this no matter how much you interrupt,’ he continued. ‘So you may as well listen and make sure I have it right. We wouldn’t like to make any mistakes here.’
‘Of course not,’ she said bitterly, and Alastair smiled.
‘Very wise. So what did you have? A father who’s a farmer and an expert stone-waller, but who coped with his wife’s illness by turning to the bottle.’ He held his hand up as Penny-Rose made an involuntary protest and she subsided. Reluctantly. ‘And a mother who depended on her eldest daughter for everything.
‘And then your mother died.’ His voice softened still further. ‘Which left you at ten, caring for Heather, six, Elizabeth, four and Michael who was newborn. And a herd of dairy cows and a father who drank himself stupid every night, leaving everything else to you.’
‘I don’t-’
‘Welfare nearly stepped in,’ he went on. ‘The whole district was concerned. My mother’s investigators had no trouble finding people who remembered gossip about your family. I gather you came within an inch of being put into care. But for you.’
‘I didn’t-’
But he was brooking no interruptions. Like Cinderella’s prince, he was working to a deadline. ‘You worked your butt off,’ he told her. ‘You came home from school every night and you milked. You got up at dawn and did the same. The neighbours knew and were horrified but you wouldn’t have it any other way, and when Welfare tried to step in they were met by a little girl whose temper matched that of any adult. “Leave us alone,” you said. “We’ll survive.” And somehow you did, until you could leave school at fifteen and work full time on the farm.’
‘Yes, but-’
‘But it wasn’t much easier then, was it, Penny-Rose?’ he said gently. ‘Because your father drank any profits, and you had your work cut out keeping bread on the table. When your father got drunk one night and smashed his car into a tree, things might have been easier. If the younger children had left school. But you wouldn’t let them.’
‘Of course not. They’re so clever,’ she said desperately. ‘All of them. Heather wants so much to be a doctor. Like you, Elizabeth wants architecture.’ She flashed him a wintry smile. ‘And somehow you already know that Michael longs for engineering.’
‘You’re supporting two at university now and one at school. How are you going to do more?’
‘They have part-time jobs. They help.’
‘Not enough. It’s two more years until Heather finishes and Michael’s major expenses haven’t started. You’re up to your ears in debt already.’
‘I don’t need to listen to this!’
‘No, but you should,’ Alastair said ruthlessly. ‘You can’t do it. You’ve come to Europe because the pay’s better. With a great exchange rate you can send more money home, but there’s an end to it. You can’t stretch your debts any further.’
‘I must,’ she said in a small voice, and his hand came back across the table and caught hers.
‘You need a life, too.’
‘They’re great kids.’ Her green eyes sparked with anger. ‘We’ve talked it through. As soon as Michael’s finished, it’s my turn. That’s when I can start enjoying myself.’
‘Oh, great. In six years? More! How much more turnip soup, Penny-Rose? How long before they’re self- supporting and you have your debts paid off?’
‘I want them to have the best,’ she said stubbornly. ‘They shouldn’t suffer because my father…’
‘Because your father didn’t face his responsibilities.’ Alastair’s voice gentled. ‘You face yours, though, don’t you? And I do, too. That’s what this is all about. Facing responsibilities. That’s why I’m asking you to marry me. It could help us both.’
‘I don’t-’
‘No, don’t say anything.’ He smiled at her, a smile that lit his face and took the heaviness away from her heart. ‘First let’s eat a very good dinner. And tell me…’
‘Tell you what?’ She was thoroughly flustered. ‘You already know everything.’
‘I don’t know this.’
‘What?’
‘Why do they call you Penny-Rose?’
She didn’t answer him until she’d demolished the first course. Her snails were magnificent morsels of taste sensation. She’d never tasted anything so delicious in her life. And in a way, it was time out. Her whole attention had to be on conquering the tricky silver tongs and tiny fork-and on not missing a drop of the gorgeous juice.
She finally finished and looked up to find Alastair watching her. The look on his face was strange, as if he couldn’t believe she was real.
‘Oh, what?’ she said crossly. ‘Have I made a
‘On the contrary, you managed beautifully,’ he told her, just a hint of a smile lingering in his voice. ‘In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed watching someone eating snails more.’ He left her to make of that what she liked, and then pressed home his question for the third time. ‘Before our next distraction comes-’
‘Food’s not a distraction,’ she retorted. ‘What a thing to say!’
‘OK, I was brought up wrong,’ he admitted. ‘I could have had snails for breakfast if I’d wanted. But I do want to know-’
‘You know everything.’
‘Not this.’
‘So pay more money to your private investigators.’
‘My mother asked them,’ he confessed. ‘But apart from knowing your full name is Penelope Rose O’Shea…’
‘So? That’s why I’m called Penny-Rose.’
