‘Will you stay on as Ramon’s skipper?’
‘I love this boat,’ he said simply. ‘For as long as I’m asked, I’ll stay. If that means staying at the palace from time to time, I’ll find the courage.’
‘I don’t have very much courage,’ she whispered.
‘Or maybe you have sense instead,’ Gordon said stoutly. He stood back for her to precede him up to the deck. She stepped up-and suddenly the world was waiting for her.
Paparazzi were everywhere. Flashlights went off in her face, practically blinding her. She put her hand over her eyes in an instinctive gesture of defence, and retreated straight back down again.
Gordon slammed the hatch after her.
‘Tell us about yourself,’ someone called from the dock. ‘You speak Spanish, right?’
‘We’re happy to pay for your story,’ someone else called.
‘You and Prince Ramon were on the boat together for two weeks, alone, right?’ That was bad enough. But then…
‘Is it true you had a baby out of wedlock?’ someone else called while Jenny froze. ‘And the baby died?’
They knew about her Matty? They knew…
She wanted to go home right now. She wanted to creep into a bunk and stay hidden while Gordon sailed her out of the harbour and away.
Serenity. Peace. That was what she’d been striving for since Matty died. Where was serenity and peace now?
How could she find it in this?
‘I’ll talk to them,’ Gordon said, looking stunned and sick, and she looked at this big shy man and she thought why should he fight her battles? Why should anyone fight her battles?
Maybe she had to fight to achieve this so-called serenity, she thought. Maybe that was what her problem had been all along. She’d been waiting for serenity to find her, when all along it was something she needed to fight for.
Or maybe it wasn’t even serenity that she wanted.
Then, before she had time to decide she’d lost her mind entirely-for maybe she had; she certainly wasn’t making sense to herself and Gordon was looking really worried-she flung open the hatch again and stepped out onto the deck.
His cellphone was on mute in his pocket. He felt it vibrate, checked it and saw it was Gordon calling. Gordon wouldn’t call him except in an emergency.
The documents had just been signed and the Heads of State were lining up for a photo call. These men had come for the coronation and had stayed on.
Cepheus was a small nation. These men represented far more powerful nations than his, and Cepheus had need of powerful allies. Nevertheless, he excused himself and answered.
‘Paparazzi know about Jenny’s baby,’ Gordon barked, so loud he almost burst Ramon’s eardrum. ‘They’re on the jetty. We’re surrounded. You need to get her out of here.’
He felt sick. ‘I’ll have a security contingent there in two minutes,’ he said, motioning to Senor Rodriguez, who, no doubt, had heard every word. ‘I need to get to the docks,’ he told him. ‘How long?’
‘It would take us fifteen minutes, Your Highness, but we can’t leave here,’ Rodriguez said. The man was seriously good. He already had security on his second phone. ‘Security will have dealt with it before we get there. There’s no need…’
There was a need, but as he glanced back at the Heads of State he knew his lawyer was right. To leave for such a reason could cause insupportable offence. It could cause powerful allies to turn to indifference.
His sense of helplessness was increasing almost to breaking point.
‘You can see, though,’ Senor Rodriguez said, obviously realising just how he was torn. He turned back to the men and women behind him. ‘If you’ll excuse us for a moment,’ he said smoothly. ‘An urgent matter of security has come up. We’ll be five minutes, no more.’
‘I will go,’ Ramon said through gritted teeth.
‘It will be dealt with before you arrive,’ Senor Rodriguez said again. ‘But we have security monitors on the royal berth. I can switch our cameras there to reassure you until you see our security people take over. If you’ll come aside…’
So Ramon followed the lawyer into an anteroom. He stared at the monitor in the corner, and he watched in grim desperation as his woman faced the press.
They’d pull her apart, he thought grimly-and there was nothing he could do to help her.
The cameras went wild. Questions were being shouted at her from all directions.
Courage, she told herself grimly. Come on, girl, you’ve hidden for long enough. Now’s the time to stand and fight.
She ignored the shouts. She stood still and silent, knowing she looked appalling, knowing the shots would be of her at her worst. She’d just scrubbed out a boat. She didn’t look like anyone famous. She was simply Jenny the deckhand, standing waiting for the shouting to stop.
And finally it did. The journalists fell silent at last, thinking she didn’t intend to respond.
‘Finished?’ she asked, quirking an eyebrow in what she hoped looked like sardonic amusement, and the shouting started again.
Serenity, she told herself. She tapped a bare toe on the deck and waited again for silence.
‘I’ve called His Highness,’ Gordon called up from below. ‘Security’s on its way. Ramon’ll send them.’
It didn’t matter. This wasn’t Ramon’s fight, she thought. Finally, silence fell again; baffled silence. The cameras were still in use but the journalists were clearly wondering what they had here. She waited and they watched. Impasse.
‘You do speak English?’ one asked at last, a lone question, and she nodded. A lone question, not shouted, could be attended to.
And why not all the others, in serene order? Starting now.
‘Yes,’ she said, speaking softly so they had to stay silent or they couldn’t hear her. ‘I speak English as well as Spanish and French. My parents have Spanish blood. And I did indeed act as crew for His Highness, Prince Ramon, as we sailed between Sydney and Auckland.’ She thought back through the questions that had been hurled at her, mentally ticking them off. ‘Yes, I’m a cook. I’m… I
She grinned then, a wide, cheeky grin which only she knew how much effort it cost to produce. ‘Oh, whoops, I forgot I don’t have a secretary. Can one of you volunteer? I’ll pay you in muffins. If one of you is willing, then the rest can siphon your questions through him. That’s so much more dignified than shouting, don’t you think?’
Then she gave them all a breezy wave, observed their shocked silence and then slipped below, leaving them dumfounded.
She stood against the closed hatch, feeling winded. Gordon was staring at her in amazement. As well he might.
What was she doing?
Short answer? She didn’t know.
Long answer? She didn’t know either. Retiring from this situation with dignity was her best guess, though suddenly Jenny had no intention of retiring.
Not just yet.
This was a state-of-the-art security system, and sound was included. Not only did Ramon see everything, he heard every word Jenny spoke.
