A Royal Marriage Of Convenience

‘Hey,’ he said, and held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘I didn’t.’

‘You inferred it.’

‘I just said it might be fun to learn about how not to have babies.’ He was trying to make her smile again, but she wouldn’t be persuaded.

‘Nick, leave it.’

‘I’ll certainly leave babies,’ he said, still rattled. ‘I certainly don’t want them myself, and if you can’t have them then-’

‘Then the discussion’s ended.’

‘Right,’ he said, and drew his sword.

‘What are you doing with that?’ She sounded nervous.

‘Hey, Rose, I’m not about to ravish you at sword’s point. I thought I might hang it on the hook behind the door,’ he said. ‘It occurred to me that if I’m promising not to ravish my bride I’d better put down my weapons.’

‘All your weapons,’ she said.

‘There’s only my sword.’

‘Stop smiling too,’ she said, and he paused. Carefully he hung his sword and turned back to her.

‘Does my smile do to you what your smile does to me?’

‘I…What?’

‘You see, there’s the problem,’ he said. ‘There’s the crux of the whole mess. Because you’re standing there looking absolutely fabulous and you look amused, and then you look angry, and then you look frightened, and you know what? Every single expression you use makes me want to kiss you senseless.’

‘Which…which would be a mistake,’ she stammered, and her voice wobbled.

‘I can see that. But I’m damned if I know what to do about it.’ ‘I’m sure I can go to my room now.’

‘Listen,’ he told her. From below came the sound of laughter, many voices settling in for the long haul. ‘Did we have to invite so many people?’

‘They’ll go home soon. I could sneak-’

‘Oh, sure. Open the door really, really silently, checking every inch of the way that there’s no one in the hall. Crouch on all fours so you’re below the level of the balustrade. Crawl slowly along, hoping no one looks up. Oh, and may I remind you that we have guests staying on this floor? Foreign dignitaries from all over. Any one of them could chance along and meet the royal bride crawling bedroom-wards. Wouldn’t look good.’

‘No,’ she agreed, and she smiled, resigned. Damn it, there was that smile again. ‘So what do we do?’

‘Read,’ he said. ‘I have a legal brief or six somewhere.’

‘Sleep’s probably a better idea,’ she said. ‘I’m exhausted.’

‘Me too,’ he said, and looked hopefully through the door at the four-poster bed.

‘You go to bed,’ she told him. ‘I’ll use the settee.’

The settee was huge. It looked very, very comfortable. Nick looked at it, sighed and knew what his duty was.

‘I’m an honourable man,’ he said.

‘So?’

‘So you use the bed and I’ll use the settee.’

‘But-’

‘Don’t say it,’ he said, and held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘I know. Hero is my middle name. Just toss me out four of those feather pillows and two of those duvets, and I’ll suffer in silence right here while you wallow in my rightful princely bed.’

She giggled.

He smiled. He’d made her giggle. There was so much about her that he didn’t understand. He wanted desperately more and more to kiss her, to get closer to her, to see if, just if, this relationship might go a little further. He’d always been wary of marriage-attachments-but slowly Rose was creeping under his skin in a way he hadn’t felt possible.

He’d suggested seduction this night and she’d refused. But instead of feeling wounded he wanted to know why, not for him, but for her. And he liked that he’d made her giggle.

There was something in the baby thing, he thought. He’d get to the bottom of it eventually. But for now he’d brought the laughter back into her eyes and he was quitting while he was ahead.

‘Goodnight, my bride,’ he said and he took her hands and tugged her forwards and kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. God only knew how hard it was to leave it at that, but he did. ‘Sleep well,’ he told her. ‘Sleep in your royal bed while your knight errant guards your sleep.’

‘My knight errant?’

‘I have no idea what that means,’ he confessed. ‘But it sounds great. It’s me. It means I get to go to sleep with my sword.’

When I’d far rather be sleeping with my lady, he added under his breath. He wanted the laughter to stay.

He wanted this lady to smile.

CHAPTER NINE

SHE lay in his too-big bed, dressed in the soft chemise that had been her underskirt during the day. The silk was soft against her body. The feather duvet was so luxurious-so far away from the heavy blankets she’d been used to in Yorkshire-that she felt she was floating.

She was married. Remarried, she reminded herself. She’d been married once before, and now she’d made those marriage vows again. Only she had not. She’d lied.

She lay there in Nick’s big bed and felt small. And lost. And lonely.

Hoppy was down in the kitchens. She should get up and go find him.

Right-the royal bride padding down through the ancient corridors calling Hoppy, Hoppy, Hoppy…

It’d probably make headline news.

See, that was what she hadn’t counted on. This interest. The realisation that this marriage wasn’t just between the two of them-it was a marriage for the country. She’d wanted freedom, but what dumb reasoning had had her thinking she could have freedom as a royal bride?

And if she succumbed to Nick’s sexiness, the blaze of desire she saw in his eyes every time he looked at her…Where would her freedom be then?

And a child…A baby…

It was closing in on her. Nick was too close, just through the door in the shadows, sleeping. She hoped he was sleeping. The thought that he was awake-as she was-was almost unbearable.

‘Nick’, she wanted to call, but she didn’t.

Think of something else. Think of the good things she could do here. Erhard had been with them tonight, pleased but frail. ‘I’m proud of you,’ he’d said, and that had been something to hold onto. For some strange reason he almost felt like family. Erhard had known her mother and he’d known her as a child. She remembered him as a solicitous attendant to a sick old man.

He was a link to the past.

Julianna hadn’t been here today.

That worried her. Rose should have been accustomed to the loss of her sister by now, but she probably never would be. And the whole set-up worried her-that Julianna thought of her as the enemy. She hadn’t thought it through enough. There were repercussions she hadn’t thought of, and she lay there and tried to think of them now, but couldn’t, and she felt like…

Like padding out and saying to Nick, ‘Move over, I want to share your settee’.

She didn’t. How could she?

But sex is fun.

What sort of irresponsible thought was that?