refuse to be responsible for my actions. No matter that we’re getting married-name only. No family. No ties. And I want to get this place sorted. Right. What’s next?’ And she looked so fierce that he held up his hands in mock surrender.
What a statement! His desire to hug her should have stopped right there. Only for some dumb reason it intensified. He had to fight to make himself agree.
‘Sure,’ he managed. ‘That’s how I feel too.’ Or was it?
‘Just so you know,’ she said, still glowering. ‘But, even if I didn’t feel like that, I still wouldn’t run. Yes, I got concerned when I didn’t hear from Erhard this week, and I was spooked when the press arrived, but I’ve cut my ties now and I’m over it. So move on. We’ll get some plans in place and do what Erhard wanted. Now.’
She looked so fierce that he smiled. But he was thinking hard. What lay ahead seemed much more of a challenge than it had seemed back home, but maybe he, like Rose, was glad to move on. For different reasons. She was leaving family. He was leaving a vacuum.
No. Just boredom. He wanted a challenge.
And it didn’t hurt that he’d face this challenge with Rose beside him. He just had to resist the desire to… hug.
No. What he really wanted to do was kiss her until her toes curled. Or his toes curled.
What he really needed, on the other hand, was a cold shower. If he did anything so dumb she’d slug him into the middle of next week.
‘We need to get meetings in place straight away,’ he said slowly, managing to think a bit further. ‘We’ll get the armed-forces chiefs to the palace. Let them know what we intend. Figure out where they stand. We need to speak to each individual councillor.’
‘So you will stay?’ she said, and he glanced at her in surprise.
‘For as long as it takes, Rose, yes. I promised, and I’ll keep my word.’
‘It’s only…I’m aware that it’s me who’s supposed to be sovereign,’ she muttered. ‘But I don’t have the skills.’
‘I suspect neither of us have the skills. But no one else does either, so it’s fight through it or run. You’ve said you won’t run, and neither will I.’
‘Thank you.’
He smiled. ‘You know, from all accounts, prince consorts never had such a bad time of it in the past,’ he said. ‘All that wheeling and dealing behind closed doors. I’ll be the one who’ll tell you whose head to chop off, you do the dirty work, and then you get the flack and not me.’
‘Oh, great.’
‘I’m truly noble,’ he said, and he managed to grin.
She tried not to smile. She failed.
She looked enchanting, he thought. The more he looked at her the more enchanted he became. She was still huddled in her oversized duffel coat-not because she needed its warmth, he suspected, but because she found the familiar smell of it comforting. Hoppy certainly did. The little dog was huddling against her, under her coat, only his nose exposed in quivering anxiety.
‘I don’t think this’ll work if you’re prince consort,’ she said softly.
He thought about it for a moment. ‘That’s what the whole idea is.’
‘No, it’s not. I don’t think we should be crown and deputy.’
‘I’m sorry, but-’
‘Hey, you know I’m really not royal,’ she said, interrupting him. ‘My mother was married and then left to fend for herself. My father married her on a whim, tired of her within a year and then, as far as I can tell, never touched her again. He went from scandal to scandal, while my mother stayed in the castle and cared for the old Prince. There were visitors, and I was born with red hair, and I’ll not be judging her for it. She must have been unbearably lonely.’ She touched her flaming head and grinned. ‘So there you are. I was born royal but I’m not really royal, whereas you…Your mother really was a princess.’
‘Yes, but…’ He was getting distracted. By her hair.
‘But what?’
‘It’s the way it has to work,’ he said with difficulty. ‘It’s you who’s in line for the throne.’
‘But you want it,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘You’re aching to get in there and do stuff. You can’t do that if you’re not a full partner.’
‘I don’t think you can devolve authority until you have it,’ he said, striving to keep it light.
‘I guess not,’ she whispered, and then her voice firmed a little. ‘I guess I have to take it on. I can cope. I have before.’ He watched her face became more resolute.
David aiming his slingshot?
They were reaching the outskirts of the city now. It was Saturday at twilight, the light just starting to fade.
‘Where does everyone here go on a Saturday night?’ she asked suddenly, and then as Nick looked blank she reached forward and slid back the glass partitioning them from the driver.
‘If you and your family were wanting a fun night out tonight,’ she said to the driver, ‘Where would you go?’
‘Madame?’ the driver said, confused, and she repeated her question.
‘What’s a good local drinking place in the heart of the city?’ she said. ‘Maybe with a band playing. Is there somewhere like that?’
‘The army officers use Maison d’Etre.’
‘No, not the army,’ she said, while Nick stayed as confused as the driver. ‘You. Or the farmers we just saw. Where do most people go?’
‘I live just two miles from here,’ the man said dubiously. ‘It’s Saturday night. It’s harvest time and the weather’s good. The time-honoured local tradition at this time of year is to gather down at the river bank not far from here, or at other picnic spots round the country.’ He hesitated. ‘There’s not the money for families to go to pubs any more. Taxes are terrible. The army and the politicians use the restaurants and pubs, but most of them, well, they’ve closed for lack of patronage.’
‘And down at the river?’
‘That’s where we go,’ he said simply. ‘Each district has its own meeting place. We go there or we stay home.’
‘But the young ones, they go to the pictures and things?’
‘If you’re in a well-paid job. But there are few well-paid jobs.’
‘So if we wanted to meet the people…’
‘Maybe you could go on the television,’ he said doubtfully.
‘We don’t want to do that,’ Rose said. ‘Not yet.’ She visibly swallowed a gulp. ‘I don’t think I’d be very good at television.’
‘So what are you thinking?’ Nick said uneasily, watching the set of her face. This was a woman who, having decided to do something, went for it. Even facing television.
‘I’m not going back to Yorkshire,’ she said. ‘Not for a lack of gumption on my part.’
‘No one’s making you.’
‘Yes, but the main reason I can come here is that I have an imperative,’ she said. ‘I have an imperative here, but I also have an imperative back in Yorkshire. I haven’t told you what that imperative is, but believe me facing a firing squad at dawn looks pretty good in comparison. No. We get proactive. Did you have to wear a suit?’
‘Did you have to wear a duffel coat?’
‘A duffel coat’s more appropriate than what you’re wearing,’ she retorted. ‘Lose the tie. Do you have a jacket in your baggage?’
‘I’m not sure where our baggage is.’
‘It’s being brought separately,’ the driver said, bemused, watching them through the rear-view mirror.
‘If we wanted to go to your picnic…’ Rose said slowly, looking ahead and behind at their convoy. There were twelve uniformed army-officers in front of them on motor bikes. There were twelve behind. ‘Do you suppose they’d arrest us if we stopped down at the river?’
