‘And firelight,’ he told her. ‘And making trousers for teddies.’
‘That too,’ she told him. She stared at him then, straight at him. There was such trouble in his face, she thought. She was coping with the loss of her child, but she wasn’t alone in her grief. This man was not only coping with the death of his twin and the more recent death of his brother, but he was also facing his mother’s sorrow. And in the next room, in her bed, was a little boy who would be raised alone because this man had fought and lost.
‘Why did you never marry?’ she asked for the second time, gently into the night. ‘Until now?’
It was a presumptuous question but it seemed tonight that nothing was presumptuous. For this night, for this time, there were no barriers.
‘I hardly thought of it,’ he told her. ‘I guess…Lisle’s health was so precarious and she needed so much help that there never seemed time to get heavily involved outside our family circle.’
He smiled then. It was a mere echo of the smile she loved so much but it was a smile for all that. ‘But I haven’t exactly been puritanical,’ he told her. ‘If you think I’ve led a life of pure hard work and no fun…’
‘Women, eh?’ she said, following the lead he was giving with his smile, and magically, wonderfully, he grinned. ‘Lots of women?’
‘A thousand at least,’ he told her, and she smiled straight back at him.
‘Excellent.’ She hesitated. ‘So…you’ve had a thousand-odd women but when you needed to marry there was only Sarah to choose? A relative who-from my point of view anyway-maybe didn’t seem the wisest choice.’
‘She seemed a good choice,’ he told her, and his voice was suddenly stiff again. Defensive. ‘I didn’t want to be held down.’
‘Right,’ she said drily. ‘Well, she’s surely not holding you down. And now what? If Sarah was a business proposition, can you not make another? Can’t you find another good choice by Monday? Another bride who’ll not keep you from your thousand other women?’
‘I was joking.’
‘I know you were joking,’ she told him. ‘But there must be someone. Maybe you could advertise.’
‘Oh, sure,’ he said, self-mockingly. ‘I should just put a notice up on the main palace gate. Wanted, one princess.’
‘Why not? You’d be swamped.’
‘By women who’d expect something. By a woman I didn’t know, who could lead to all sorts of complications. It’s impossible. The woman I want would have to marry and then step away. Sarah was doing it for money and prestige, but she knew enough of the rules of the monarchy to toe the line. Or I thought she did. And she didn’t mind the goldfish bowl she was stepping into. She’d have enjoyed the attention of the Press. Anyone else it’d swamp.’
Silence. More silence.
The fire crackled and Jess suddenly felt dizzy. She put a hand down onto the thick Persian rug she was kneeling on-as if she needed to steady herself.
She did need to steady herself.
Something was forming in the back of her mind. Something so preposterous it was taking her breath away.
Could she?
How could she not?
‘Unless…unless your bride didn’t live here,’ she said, softly, sounding the idea out in her head as the idea formed. ‘Unless she lived somewhere like…Australia? There’d be no media if your bride packed and left for Australia the moment the ceremony was ended.’
There was a moment’s stunned silence. Raoul’s face stilled.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
‘What are you suggesting?’ he asked at last, but he knew. Of course he knew, and it was too late to back out now.
And she didn’t want to back out. She glanced through to the bedroom. This wasn’t a big thing, she thought. She could do this. She had her life and she could get on with it regardless. A mere marriage would make no difference to her.
And it was a positive thing to do. A definite action. It was like making toast and marmalade, but the slivers of lightness of this action wouldn’t just be for her. By her actions Edouard could be made safe.
‘I’m saying that your answer could be right here,’ she said softly. ‘I’m saying I’ll marry you.’
‘You…’
‘On terms,’ she said hurriedly. ‘On very definite terms.’
On terms.
Raoul stared at the girl beside him. She was staring into the flames, as if the thing she’d just said was an aside; of no importance.
It was as if she’d said, If you’d like, I’ll make you a cup of tea, instead of, If you’d like, I’ll marry you.
‘What are you saying?’ he asked at last and she even smiled.
‘Hey, it’s no big deal. You’re obviously desperate for a wife. I’ve ditched my spineless husband, who I married when I was too young to know better, and I’m available.’ Something occurred to her then, and her brow wrinkled into a furrow. She looked absurdly young, he thought. She was dressed for dinner, her clothes were lovely, but her freckles and her snub nose and her close-cropped curls still made her seem about seventeen. Only she wasn’t seventeen. There was a depth of world knowledge behind her eyes that more than matched his own. While he’d been fighting for his sister’s life, and for unknown lives in Somalia, she’d been fighting for the life of her tiny son, and who was to say which had taken the worst toll?
‘Um… But I’ve suddenly thought,’ she said and she did turn and look at him then, ‘there’s no rule that you marry another princess or someone royal, is there?’
‘No, but…’
Her brow wrinkled further. ‘Or a virgin? That’d be a worry.’
‘Not a virgin,’ he told her and the relief on her face made him smile. ‘I had planned to marry Sarah. She’d been married before.’
‘There you go, then,’ she said as if all problems were solved. ‘Job’s done.’
‘But you don’t want to marry me,’ he managed and she raised her brows in mock-surprise.
‘You don’t think so? I don’t see why not. You’re very handsome.’
‘Gee, thanks.’
She giggled. It was an amazing sound, he thought. When had he last heard a woman giggle?
‘Close your mouth,’ she said kindly. ‘Stop looking hornswoggled.’
‘Hornswoggled?’
‘I’m not sure of the translation,’ she told him. ‘Maybe it’s “you could have knocked me over with a porrywiggle”.’
‘I don’t think I even want to go there,’ he said faintly. ‘Jess, have you any idea what you’re offering?’
‘Yes-and it’s a really serious offer,’ she told him, and coloured. ‘I know it’s unusual-Australian dress designer proposes to Prince Regent of Alp’Azuri-but then the situation is unusual.’
‘But…’
‘But nothing. You know I don’t want anything of you,’ she told him, talking hurriedly before he could speak. As though she was fearful he was reaching all the wrong conclusions. ‘I accept that you can’t advertise for a bride because you might get crazy people and there’s no time to vet them, and of course there’s no time to vet me. You’d have to take me at my word. I don’t want to be a princess. I don’t want money-my business is going very nicely, thank you-and I don’t want fame. My proposition is that I’ll marry you, I’ll see Edouard safe and then I’ll disappear back to Australia. I’ll be a one-day wonder for the media. Back home my staff can protect me from intrusion, and you can get on with ruling this country as it ought to be ruled.’
She hesitated again and then said, more than a little self-consciously, ‘You know, I do understand your qualms. But you needn’t have them. As I don’t have qualms about you. I haven’t known you for long, but I’ve known you for long enough to accept that you’d make a fairer ruler of this country than Marcel ever would. And…’ she glanced through into the bedroom ‘…you’d make a far nicer guardian for Edouard.’
‘Jess…’ He could hardly think of how to respond, but once again she stopped him.
