‘Beatrice could organise you something,’ Blake said, but he sounded doubtful. ‘Maybe her ideas are a little old- fashioned…’
‘No,’ Max said, shoving a slate into place and concentrating on the next one. ‘There’s a reasonable shopping centre in the village. I’ll finish here in an hour and take you.’
‘I’ve no money for clothes.’
‘You’re the guardian of the heir to the throne of Alp d’Estella. You should have been getting a suitable allowance long since. You are now. Get used to it.’
She didn’t want to go to town with him.
Pippa chipped on, seemingly concentrating only on her bricks but in reality twisting the forthcoming journey into all sorts of threatening contortions.
It was only shopping, she thought, but she’d be alone with Max and she didn’t want to be alone with Max.
She could take the children.
Right, and they’d be so good while she chose a frock. Ha. Shopping with them was a nightmare at the best of times.
Who else could she take?
No one without saying straight out that she didn’t trust Max, and it wasn’t actually that she didn’t trust Max. She didn’t trust herself.
She worked steadily on, trying to get her head together, trying to stay calm.
An hour later Max came up behind her, took the brick from her fingers and she jumped about a foot.
‘Enough.’
‘I haven’t done enough,’ she said, suddenly breathless, and the men around her laughed.
‘You’ve put the rest of us to shame, miss,’ Blake said. ‘You deserve a rest. Have fun.’
‘Let’s go,’ Max said and lifted her chisel from her hand. ‘Work’s over for the day.’
‘I won’t be able to leave the kids. I’ve been away from them all day.’
‘Let’s check, shall we?’ he said. ‘Make no assumptions, scary or otherwise.’
‘Why would they be scary?’
‘We both know the answer to that,’ he said softly. ‘Though neither of us know what to do with it.’
Was he saying he was as attracted to her as she was to him? Pippa sat in the passenger seat of a neat little sports car and tried to concentrate on the scenery, but it was impossible to concentrate on something other than the man beside her.
Was he saying the avoidance of the last four days had been part of his plan as well as hers?
Good, she thought. Great. If they both thought this relationship was impossible then they could do something about it. Or do nothing, which would be a much more suitable plan.
She was sitting as far apart as she could, which was a start-though you couldn’t get very far apart in a tiny sports car.
‘Does this car belong to the palace?’
‘It’s mine. Do you like it?’
‘I do,’ she said politely. The little car practically purred as they negotiated the scenic curves around the mountains. ‘Actually it’s smashing,’ she admitted. ‘The kids would love it.’
‘Just lucky they were too busy to come, then.’
They had been too busy. When Pippa had gone to find them they had been in the vegetable garden, sorting worms from loamy compost. Dolores had been nearby, sleeping in the sun and keeping a benign eye on her charges.
‘We’re making a carrot bed,’ the twins told Pippa. ‘We need worms. M. Renagae says there can never be enough worms in a carrot bed.’
They were fitting into this life to the manor born, Pippa thought. It was only Pippa who felt…foreign. She’d asked-uselessly-whether they’d like to go into town to shop and they’d regarded her as if she were a sandwich short of a picnic.
So now she was alone with Max, and he was staring ahead as if he was as determined as she was not to cross the line.
‘What sort of dress do I need?’ she asked.
‘Several. A long gown for the formal photo and a couple more for dinners.’
‘I eat with the children.’
‘I hope after I leave that you’ll stand in my stead on State occasions.’
‘You’re assuming I’m staying.’
‘I’m assuming you’re thinking about it. This place has to be better than where I found you.’
‘It might be,’ she said, still cautious. ‘Max, what are you afraid of?’
‘I’m not afraid.’
‘Then what? What aren’t you telling me?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Don’t lie to me,’ she snapped. ‘I know there’s something. It’s just intuition but I know there’s…something.’ She hesitated, but it had to be said-what she’d been thinking these last four days. ‘It’s not just the castle. It’s royalty itself, so much so that you’re scared of even being with me.’
‘I’m shopping with you now, aren’t I?’
‘Only because you’re trying to persuade me to take the next step-whatever that is. For the last four days you’ve been avoiding me as much as I’ve been avoiding you. Why? Because you’re scared you might get attached to me and to the kids? Or is it that you’re scared you might be called into account for what you’ve done?’
‘Your imagination’s acting overtime,’ he said grimly.
‘I know it is. But all I have is my imagination as I don’t have facts.’
‘You don’t need-’
‘Don’t you dare tell me what I need or don’t need,’ she flashed, swivelling in the car to face him. ‘You’ve talked me into coming here with your promise of warmth and luxury and relief from responsibility, but the responsibility’s followed me and I’m damned if I’m letting your charm and good looks and…your princeliness deflect me from figuring out what I have to figure. Just because you wear a stupid dress sword-’
‘Princeliness?’
‘Don’t laugh at me.’
‘I wouldn’t.’
‘You would if you thought it would help. But I still get the feeling you’re afraid. If not of me-and that’s crazy-if not of emotion, then what?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Stop the car.’
‘I can’t. There’s only two hours before the shops close.’
‘Then talk fast,’ she snapped, suddenly sure of herself. There was something. If not fear, then what? She was responsible for Marc. She had to find out. ‘Please stop the car,’ she repeated. ‘I’m taking not one minute’s more part in this charade before I know what I need to know.’
He stopped in a pullover catering for tourists who wanted to gaze down the valley at the winding river and the spectacular mountains beyond. The scenery was awesome, but Max gazed straight ahead and saw nothing. ‘What do you want to know?’ he said blankly.
‘About your family, for a start,’ she said. She wasn’t sure where she was going with this. She wasn’t even sure that she wasn’t a bit crazy. She stared down at her hands, which were suddenly the most interesting things she could find to look at-apart from Max and there was no way she was looking at him any more. ‘I want to know about Thierry. Tell me about the car crash.’
‘Thierry died in a car crash when he was seventeen.’ He said it as if goaded.
She flashed a look at him then, just for a moment, and then looked back at her hands. ‘With your father. Who was drunk?’
‘Of course with my father,’ he exploded. ‘Of course he was drunk. He’s a de Gautier. The blood’s cursed.’
‘Ooh, who’s being melodramatic?’ she whispered and he stared at her in astonishment.
‘You’re accusing me of melodrama?’
‘If you’re talking about cursed blood, then, yes, I am,’ she said with asperity. ‘Tell it like it is, Max. Don’t try and
