strangely right for here. For now. ‘Hush,’ he told her. ‘I’m not stupid. I accept you won’t leave the children. But I’d assume you could get a reasonable income from nursing, and the farm would bring in something. That must mean you could have a life where you’d at least be warm and well fed.’
‘The kids’ inheritance is the farm. That’s all they have.’
‘I disagree. They have you. An inheritance isn’t worth starving for.’
‘You don’t think it’s important?’
‘Not that much.’
‘Then why are you going to this trouble to make sure Marc inherits this principality?’
He hesitated. Then he spread his hands, as if deciding to tell all. ‘There are lives at stake.’
She stared. ‘That sounds ridiculous.’
‘It’s true.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘Why?’
‘If there’s no Crown Prince then the country reverts to political rule, which at the moment would practically be a dictatorship. That’s why you haven’t heard of Marc’s inheritance before this. The politicians want nothing more than for the royal succession to die and for them to be in sole charge. The local farmers are being bled dry with taxes as it is. If it gets worse…well, I’m not overstating it when I say there will be starvation.’
‘But that’s…that’s crazy. Marc can’t have anything to do with that.’
‘He doesn’t need to. He simply needs to be allowed to take on the title. The rest can be managed around him.’ He hesitated, and then forged on. ‘Because my mother was still married to Edouard when I was born and because I was half-brother to Thierry, I can accept the role of Prince Regent. That means until Marc is twenty-one, I can make decisions for him. We can get the country back on track.’
‘But…’ she shook her head ‘…this is nonsense. How can I possibly expose Marc to something so weird?’
‘It’s not so weird,’ he said and smiled. ‘It’s lovely. You could come for a holiday and see. When did you last have a holiday?’
She stared at him blankly.
His smile faded. ‘When, Pippa?’
‘I…when I was nursing I’d come here sometimes and help.’
‘Have you ever taken the children on a holiday?’
‘No, but-’
‘Alp d’Estella’s in the middle of summer right now,’ he said persuasively. ‘The castle’s great.’
‘Claire says it’ll have dragons.’
‘Dragons?’
‘All castles have dragons,’ she said, distracted. ‘Or at least something scary.’ She shook her head as if trying to clear fog. ‘You want Marc to be Crown Prince? He’s far too young to be anything of the kind.’
‘It’s Crown Prince in name only. Until he’s of age the responsibility is mine.’ He hesitated. ‘Pippa, I know Alice didn’t trust the royal family, but the old line is dead. Marc represents the new line. A new hope for the future.’
She took a deep breath. ‘It sounds nonsensical,’ she whispered. ‘How can I possibly trust you?’
‘You don’t need to trust me,’ Max said, steadily, as if he wasn’t offended and had in fact anticipated her qualms. ‘I’ve set my credentials before your Minister of International Affairs and he’ll vouch for my integrity. My mother also knows your countrywoman, Jessica, who married my neighbour, Raoul, Crown Prince of Alp d’ Azuri. I believe your women’s magazines have written her up, so maybe you’ve heard of her? Jessie’s pregnant and blissfully happy, but she’s not so tied up in her own contentment that she doesn’t interest herself in the affairs of her neighbours. Both she and her husband have sent their personal assurance that Marc will be safe. They guarantee that if you don’t think it’s satisfactory then you’re free to take Marc and leave. At any time.’
She blinked. She had indeed heard of Jessica, the Australian fashion designer who by all reports was living happily ever after in her fairy-tale palace with her handsome prince. The Princess Jessica had written her an assurance? The whole thing was unbelievable.
There were so many questions. She could only manage a little one. An important one. ‘It’s warm?’
He smiled. ‘It’s warm,’ he said softly. ‘Not only that, we have three swimming pools-a lap pool, an outdoor recreational pool and one indoors and heated for inclement weather. Not that it’ll be inclement at this time of the year. It’ll be beautiful.’
He was seducing her with sunshine. She had to keep her head.
‘You would be able to leave,’ he added, gently but definitely, and his big hands came out and covered hers. ‘I promise, Pippa. I’m asking that you come for a month. One month. Then you’ll know the facts. You’ll know what’s on offer. You can make up your mind from a position of knowledge.’
‘But the cost,’ Pippa said weakly. She should pull her hands away but she couldn’t make herself do it.
‘It’s taken care of already.’ Then as she looked startled the pressure on her hands intensified. There was no way it should make her feel secure and safe, but stupidly it did. ‘Pippa, I know I’m pushing you,’ he said. ‘But I’m in a hurry. The succession has to be worked out fast. Yes, you have some thinking to do but you can’t think without having seen what’s on offer. A sensible woman would come.’
‘Sometimes I’m not sensible,’ she said and she glowered and his smile changed a little, genuine amusement behind his eyes.
‘I can see that. But maybe your sensible side will out?’
She stared at him, nonplussed. The lurking twinkle was dangerous, she thought. Really dangerous.
Concentrate on practicalities. ‘But there’s passports and things…’
‘I have friends in high places. I can have passports in twenty-four hours.’
‘Twenty-four hours? Are you some kind of magician?’
‘Just a man who’s determined to have you see what you need to see.’
She was dumbfounded. ‘But…the cows,’ she whispered at last, and Max grinned as if that was the last quibble out of the way.
‘I talked to Bert. He’ll be more than happy to take over the milking for now. I gather he did it before? He’ll use his dairy and his vats are clean, so he can be paid for the milk. No obligation, he said, and why would there be? He’ll even milk Peculiar.’
‘You know Bert wants to buy us out. This is making it easier for him.’
‘Maybe it is but we’re making no promises,’ Max said evenly. ‘You’re just taking time to think. It won’t increase the pressure. Regardless of what you decide, these children are eligible for lifetime support from the royal coffers. You’ll never be hungry again. I promise.’ The grip on her hand strengthened, a warm, strong link that made her feel…wonderful. ‘I swear.’
She blinked and blinked again. She would not cry.
This was a fairy tale. She shouldn’t let herself be conned. But in truth…In truth she’d fallen from the roof last week and it had scared her witless. Not for herself so much as for the children. She was all they had. If anything happened to her…
She had to think about it.
And warmth…
‘Who else will be at the castle?’ she managed, trying desperately to focus on practicalities.
‘Servants.’
‘How many servants?’
‘Thirty or more. I’m not sure.’
Her eyes widened. She should pull her hands away, she thought desperately, but she sort of…couldn’t.
‘Your family?’ she whispered. ‘Your mother?’ She hesitated but she knew absolutely nothing of this man and there was one question that was pretty major waiting to be asked. ‘Your wife?’
‘My mother’s in Paris,’ he said evenly. ‘And I’m not married. But that’s of no importance as I won’t be at Alp d’Estella myself. I’ll escort you there and then leave.’
She blinked. He’d leave? ‘Why?’
‘I have no place in Alp d’Estella. It’s Marc who inherits. Not me.’
Her hand was withdrawn at that, hauled away before he could react and tucked firmly in the folds of her skirt, as if she was afraid he might try to reclaim it. He couldn’t. The fairy tale was dissipating. ‘Now, hang on a minute,’
