‘You don’t want to?’
‘Not if you don’t.’
‘I don’t.’
‘Not even a little bit?’ he asked, and she gasped.
‘No. I…’
‘I just thought,’ he said, seemingly innocent. ‘I mean, you’ve been a widow for a long time, and there are some things…Well, you might be missing sex?’
‘That’s none of your business.’
‘No, but I really enjoy sex,’ he said softly, wickedly, thinking well, why not? She was gorgeous. And she was his wife. ‘I’d hate to think of my wife as being deprived.’
She gasped again and took two steps backwards.
‘Don’t you dare.’
‘You really don’t want…’
‘This marriage is a marriage of convenience.’
‘So it is. But I think you’re beautiful and you think I’m gorgeous.’
‘Just your tassels,’ she said. Breathlessly.
‘You want to see me without my tassels?’ he asked, and started unbuttoning his dress coat.
She yelped.
His hand stilled. ‘You don’t want me to undress?’
‘No. No!’
‘So this marriage stays unconsummated.’
‘Yes,’ she said, but suddenly her voice was a little unsure. She was looking at his throat. Why?
She wasn’t looking at his face.
‘Rose-Anitra.’
‘Yes?’
‘Have I ever told you that’s a beautiful name?’
‘Rose.’
‘But you’re not English,’ he said. ‘You’re a princess of Alp de Montez. You’re my wife.’
‘You don’t have any rights,’ she said.
‘I know I don’t,’ he said gently. ‘I would never want you to do anything you didn’t wish. But if you wished…’
‘I don’t wish.’
‘No.’
He nodded. This room was massive. It was a suite, really, a vast sitting room with an opulent bedchamber attached. He’d been bemused when he’d seen it. ‘The master of the castle always uses these rooms,’ he’d been told, and he thought he’d better go along with it. But it really was over the top.
There was a vast four-poster bed draped with crimson velvet, edged with gold. Gold tassels a hundred times as large as the ones on his uniform. Gilt furniture, overstuffed. A couple of gilt lions on either side of the blazing fireplace.
‘I guess your patients back in Yorkshire wouldn’t recognise you now,’ he said gently, and she did look at him then and managed a smile.
‘No.’
‘Your parents-in-law didn’t come to the wedding?’
‘What do you think?’ she said bitterly. ‘I asked them, but no. I’ve betrayed them.’
‘How did you betray them?’
‘I abandoned Max.’
‘Max died,’ he said, frowning. ‘Two years ago.’
‘I didn’t have his baby.’
‘I see,’ he said cautiously, but of course he didn’t. ‘And the reason you don’t want to sleep with me?’
‘I’m not in love with you.’
‘No, but if you were?’ he said, probing something he suddenly sensed was important. She was so lovely. His bride.
Rose’s dress was a family heirloom. The palace housekeeper had produced it the same day that the country had installed them in this castle.
‘We hid it,’ she’d said as she’d presented it to Rose. ‘We hid it from your sister because she’s not the right one.’
The dress was maybe a hundred years old, exquisite: a clinging bodice and flowing skirt, white silk with gold embroidery, a soft gold underskirt; there was enough color for everyone to decide it was suitable for a widow’s remarriage.
‘I can’t be in love with you,’ she said, still breathless. ‘Not and be free.’
‘I’d never tie you to me.’
Her brow creased into a furrow. ‘That sounds almost like a proposal.’
‘No, but I was just thinking…’ he said, wondering as he said it, what was he thinking? He wasn’t sure. It was just…She was so lovely. And she was right here before him, her brow creased with just that little furrow. And he’d made those vows, and suddenly they seemed not so stupid after all. Not so scary.
But she was frightened. She took a step back. ‘Nick, we’re taking this no further.’
‘No.’
‘I’d get pregnant,’ she said.
‘The only sure contraception is a two-foot-thick brick wall.’
‘Have you been talking to my foster mother?’ he demanded, but she wasn’t smiling.
‘I could never have a child.’
He frowned. Up until now he’d felt that this situation right now was light. Fun, even. No, she didn’t want to go to bed with him, and he’d never force her. But a bit of light-hearted dalliance after the romance of the day had seemed okay, and if it had led further…
He wouldn’t have objected at all. The more he saw of Rose the more desirable she became. Today had been fantastical. They’d been transported into a fairy tale, a make-believe that was for now only. But why not let it run its course? What harm would it have done?
But suddenly the mood had changed. There was bleak heaviness in her voice.
‘Is there something wrong?’ he asked, aware that he was intruding, but there was such bleakness in her eyes that he felt compelled to.
‘There’s nothing wrong,’ she said.
‘But you can’t have children?’
‘I…No.’
‘You and Max tried?’
‘No!’
‘Oh,’ he said. Then, ‘You know, this is one thing we haven’t thought of.’
‘What?’
‘The succession.’
‘Why would we worry about the succession?’
‘If you died then Julianna would inherit.’
‘Erhard said we can put changes in place. Permanent changes. This country will never be so dependent on its sovereign again.’
‘No,’ he said, doubtful.
‘Don’t you dare tell me it’s my duty to have a baby,’ she spat, and her voice was suddenly so laced with fury that he stared.