‘Yes, but…’
‘But what?’
He sighed, refilled his wine glass and settled back, like a man prepared to lay his cards on the table.
‘The country is in a mess,’ he told her honestly. ‘Jean-Paul behaved like an absentee landlord for years, and so did his brother before him. The government’s corrupt. Everyone who’s anyone has made themselves positions of power. Charles, for example. Why does a country as small as Broitenburg need an Australian embassy? It doesn’t. Yet here’s Charles-being paid a sickening stipend, driving the car you saw us in, living in an embassy that would house a dozen families. Broitenburg is…
‘And you’re just the man to give it to them,’ Tammy said thoughtfully, and Marc grinned.
‘Actually, yes.’
‘Why bother?’ she asked curiously. ‘Why do you care?’
‘It’s a wonderful country,’ Marc said softly. ‘I was brought up there and I love it. My cousins didn’t give a toss about it, but Broitenburg under my grandfather’s rule was magic. It breaks me up, seeing what’s happening now.’
‘So?’
‘So what?’
‘So why can’t you thunder in and kick some butt?’ Tammy demanded. ‘Instead of throwing obscene amounts of money at me so you can spend the next twenty years babysitting, why not just go home and rule?’
‘There’s a problem.’
‘Which is?’
‘The succession is Henry’s, not mine. The constitution makes me a caretaker monarch. When he reaches twenty-five, the job is his.’
Tammy thought that through. A twenty-five-year reign and then honourable retirement? It didn’t sound bad to her. ‘That gives you twenty-five years of playing king,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Isn’t that enough?’
‘If that’s what I have-but I don’t. Not at the moment. My Regency only holds true if Henry’s in the country. If Henry isn’t living in Broitenburg then I have no power at all.’
Tammy thought about that for a bit more. She was still confused, and, as well, she found she wasn’t sympathetic. She glanced over at the sleeping baby and the thought of Henry inheriting a crown seemed little short of ridiculous. Monarchies were all very well, she decided, but she was a modern girl. An Australian. Did a country really need a royal family?
‘You mean, if Henry doesn’t return the country would revert to a democracy.’
He shook his head, his eyes bleak. ‘If it did there’d be no problem, but Jean-Paul has left the place to be run by power-hungry despots. I have no time to change things. Without a monarchy the country will self-destruct, and I can’t let that happen.’
Help. The more she thought about it the more she didn’t like it. Not one bit. ‘So Henry needs to go back?’
‘Henry needs to go back.’
She glanced again across at the cot, where the baby was still fast asleep. He was so little. He was so…needful. ‘You’d put the country’s welfare above Henry’s?’
‘I don’t have a choice,’ he said gently. ‘I swear he’ll be looked after.’
‘He doesn’t need looking after,’ she blurted out. ‘He needs love.’
‘I’ll…care for him.’
She stared up at him, trying to read his face. Once again she read sincerity. This was a man doing what he thought was best.
What was there in it for him?
The Regency. Twenty-five years of playing ruler of the country, she thought, and the idea hardened her heart. If Henry didn’t return, this man would be nothing.
‘I’ve told you-I don’t want this,’ he told her, and she stared.
‘What…?’
‘You’re thinking I want Henry’s return to ensure my own power base, but it’s not true. I never wanted power. I don’t want it now. If leaving Henry here meant Broitenburg could move into a progressive democracy then I’d leave him. You must believe that.’
‘I-’
‘But it won’t happen,’ he told her, overriding her interruption as he tried to give her a sense of his own urgency. ‘The officials are ruining the country. We’re a great little country, but whole industries are moving away because of government corruption. Good people-skilled people-are leaving Broitenburg because their skills go unrewarded.’
He leaned towards her then, his voice still urgent and his eyes not wavering from hers. ‘As Prince Regent I can change things,’ he told her. ‘The crown has power-too much power-but in the short term that can be used for good. I can curtail government corruption. I can even rewrite the constitution so that the monarchy becomes more in line with the British tradition-where the monarch exists to lead the people as an inspirational role, not controlling day to day living. Tammy, you must give me this chance. I want my country to be the wonderful place it once was.’
There was passion in his voice. Fire. Tammy looked across the table at Marc and saw a man who believed absolutely in what he was doing.
This man wasn’t corrupt, she thought. He was honest and he was strong and he cared. There was a part of her that recognised something in him that was almost a part of her. Like twin souls…
For the first time she wondered about him. Really wondered. What had he been doing before Jean-Paul’s death? Where had he been?
Was there a woman in his life?
Where had that thought come from? She gave herself a mental slap, hauling her thoughts sharply into line. This was hardly the time for wondering such things. He was pleading for her to hand over her nephew.
She couldn’t do it.
‘Maybe when he’s older…’
‘Tammy, he needs to come home now. His claim to the throne lapses forty days after his father’s death. I have until Friday.’
Using her name unnerved her still more. Once more she attempted to focus on what he was saying. Friday. ‘That’s in four days?’
‘Yes.’
‘But…’ She shook her head, bewildered. ‘Why did you leave it this long to collect him?’
‘I thought he was safe.’ Marc’s hands clenched on the table before him. ‘At the funeral your mother told me he was being safely cared for in Sydney. She was so…’
‘I know. I know what my mother can be.’
‘I assumed she was going back to him. Heaven knows whether she said it, but that was the impression she gave. She acted distraught at the thought of her grandchild being orphaned. So I thought…I thought that he’d be best staying with his grandmother. I had to take urgent steps to ensure that I took control until Henry came of age so I put Henry’s arrival down as something that could wait until the last minute. I had no worries about him-until I got the call from your country’s Social Services.’
Passion gave way to anger, just like that. Isobelle had made herself an enemy of this man, and the tone of his voice made Tammy shudder.
‘What the hell was she thinking of?’ he demanded.
The answer to that was easy. ‘Herself.’
Marc’s eyes flew to hers again. ‘You don’t sound surprised.’
‘Isobelle suits herself. She always has. Sitting around waiting for Henry to grow up so she can be a loving grandmother to a twenty-five-year-old prince is hardly her style. She’ll be off with her next millionaire now.’
‘You’re not in contact with her?’
‘I’ll speak to her about this.’ Tammy glanced down at the letter and Marc’s anger was reflected in hers. ‘Oh, yes. I’ll speak to her.’
‘But meanwhile…’
