A Royal Proposition

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘I HAVE a surprise for you,’ Marguerite told her.

It was four days before the wedding. The castle was a hive of activity, and with the invasion of so many strangers, Penny-Rose had grudgingly conceded to stop her walling.

She was feeling like a pampered but caged pet, but at least time with Marguerite was productive. The effects of her influenza were dragging on. Marguerite was wan and listless, she spent most of her day in bed and she had everyone worried.

But she was still scheming.

‘I’ve had the most wonderful plan,’ she told Penny-Rose. ‘For your honeymoon.’

‘We’re not having a honeymoon.’ Penny-Rose glanced up as Alastair entered the room. ‘Tell her, Alastair. We don’t want a honeymoon. Just a well mother-in-law.’

‘That’s all we want.’ Alastair crossed the room and gave his mother a kiss. ‘Dr Barnard was here earlier. What did he say?’

‘Just more rest.’ His mother sighed her exasperation. ‘You can’t expect anything else at my age.’

‘That makes you sound as if you’re ninety instead of only just seventy,’ Penny-Rose retorted. She grinned. ‘Madame Beric says all you need is a good tonic. She makes poor M’sieur Beric drink some foul potion full of aniseed and all sorts of horrible herbs and spices that she swears will cure anything from warts to ingrown toenails. Do you want me to get you some?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Marguerite said faintly.

‘Are you missing Paris?’ Alastair demanded, sitting down on her bed. His mother had a lovely apartment near the Seine. She’d dropped everything to come here when Louis had died and she hadn’t been home since. ‘You’ve been doing so much-’

‘I’ve hardly done anything,’ his mother cut in.

‘You have. Without your organisation this household would be a mess. But you must miss your friends.’

‘I’ll go back to Paris after I see you safely married,’ she told him, and Penny-Rose gave her a strange look.

‘Don’t you want to go back to Paris?’ she asked, feeling her way. ‘Is that the problem?’

‘I do…’

‘You don’t like it here?’

‘I love it here,’ Marguerite confessed.

Leo, bored with sitting on the settee with his owner, jumped down and nosed over to the bed. He leapt onto the covers and curled into the crook of Marguerite’s arm.

‘Maybe we could buy you a pup to keep you company,’ Penny-Rose suggested, and Marguerite’s face stilled.

‘I don’t need a dog.’

‘Do you have many friends in Paris?’

Alastair frowned. Was this any of Rose’s business?

But Marguerite was sighing, preparing to open up to Penny-Rose as she never talked to him.

‘I only moved to Paris after my husband died. But I have…I have a beautiful apartment. Belle decorated it for me.’

Oh, great. She could imagine. A big, elegant apartment, modern and chic and sterile as hell. ‘But not company?’

‘I don’t know many people yet…’

‘Then move back here,’ Penny-Rose said cheerfully. ‘Decide to stay here permanently.’ She cast a quick glance at Alastair and saw she had his approval. ‘Leo and I need company. It’d be great.’

‘That’d be lovely dear, but…’

‘But?’

Marguerite looked at her son, and then looked away. ‘It’d be worse,’ she said softly. ‘I’d stay for twelve months and then you’d leave and Belle would come. And Belle and I don’t…don’t get along.’

‘Belle likes you,’ Alastair protested, but Marguerite shook her head.

‘Belle’s a woman who can’t share. Whereas Penny-Rose…’ She smiled fondly at her future daughter-in-law. ‘Penny-Rose even shares her dog.’

‘Certainly, if it means I can get a night’s sleep without someone scratching his hindquarters in my face.’ Penny-Rose grinned. ‘So, yep, I’m extraordinarily generous, and willing to be more so. Stay with us.’

‘No.’ Marguerite shook her head. ‘As soon as the wedding’s over, I’ll return to Paris.’

‘If you’re better,’ Alastair growled, and she nodded.

‘I’ll be better. For your wedding I must be.’ Her scheming look reappeared. ‘But speaking of weddings, I was telling Penny-Rose when you came in. I have a surprise.’

‘I don’t trust your surprises,’ Alastair said cautiously, and his mother flashed him her most innocent of looks.

‘That’s a dreadful thing to say. As if I’d do anything you mightn’t like.’

His look of foreboding deepened. ‘What have you done?’

‘It’s my wedding present to you both. I’ve booked you a honeymoon.’

‘A honeymoon…’ Alastair took a deep breath and looked sideways at Rose. ‘We’re not going on a honeymoon.’

‘Of course you are,’ his mother said, turning businesslike. ‘Everyone needs a honeymoon, and you’re looking grey with exhaustion. Isn’t he, Penny-Rose?’

Penny-Rose could only agree. ‘Yes, but-’

‘There you are.’ Marguerite beamed. ‘She agrees. And I’ll bet Penny-Rose has never been on a decent holiday in her life. Have you, dear?’

‘No, but-’

‘You’re not refusing to take your wife on a holiday?’ Marguerite demanded of her son. ‘Especially as it’s already booked.’ She shifted Leo to retrieve a handful of pamphlets which had been lying on the coverlet. ‘These came with this morning’s post. Don’t they look wonderful?’

Penny-Rose looked at what she was holding up-and was caught.

‘Koneata Lau…’

‘It’s the most beautiful resort in the world,’ Marguerite told her. ‘It’s part of Fiji, but it’s a tiny cluster of separate islands, and you book your own island. This is the one I’ve booked for you.’

She opened a pamphlet to poster size, and a vision of sparkling seas, palm trees, golden beaches and tiny thatched cottages caught Penny-Rose’s imagination like nothing else could have.

A beach…

‘I’ve never been to the beach,’ Penny-Rose whispered before she could stop herself. ‘Not properly. Not to swim. Not to stay.’

‘You’ve never been to the beach?’ asked Marguerite in surprise.

‘None of us has,’ she confessed. ‘We lived a hundred miles inland and there was never money or time for holidays.’ She took a deep breath and pushed the thought away.

‘But no. Marguerite, it looks gorgeous, and thank you, but no. Honeymoons aren’t for crazy marriages like ours.’

She flashed an uncertain glance at Alastair. A honeymoon would be pushing him too far and too fast, she thought. She had every intention of trying to make this marriage work, but this was a bit much.

‘Besides, there’s Leo,’ she added, as if that clinched it. ‘I couldn’t leave him.’

But Marguerite had an answer for that. ‘Henri and I will look after Leo as if he’s our own,’ she said, scratching a floppy and adoring ear. ‘The staff are besotted by this dog of yours.’ They were, too. In the weeks since his arrival, Leo had crept around the collective castle hearts like a hairy worm.

But that wasn’t the issue here. The honeymoon was.

Beaches… Palm trees… A honeymoon with Alastair… It was a fantasy. Nothing more. But it was some fantasy.

She had to get away from these brochures!

‘My sisters and brother will be here tomorrow,’ she told them, and she couldn’t stop her voice from sounding a trifle desperate. ‘I can hardly get married and leave them to fend for themselves. It wouldn’t be fair.’

‘You intend to entertain your siblings on your honeymoon?’ Marguerite was aghast.

‘This is their holiday.’ Penny-Rose looked at Alastair, but his face gave nothing away. This was up to her. ‘They…they work hard, too, and Alastair’s offer of a trip here is unbelievable.’ She tilted her chin and ignored Alastair’s silence. ‘It’ll be fun, showing them around.’

‘You can hardly take your family sightseeing when you’re just married,’ Marguerite said, shaking her head. Beside her, Alastair’s face didn’t reveal one hint of what he was thinking, and it was starting to make Penny-Rose nervous.

But she had to be firm. For both of them. She set her chin in a manner both Alastair and his mother were starting to know. ‘Alastair will have work to do, and we don’t intend to hang in each other’s pockets.’ Then she cast one more wistful glance at the posters. One last look! ‘So no. Thank you very much, but no.’

She rose and managed a smile at both of them, albeit a shaky one.

‘I’ll leave you to each other’s company. I…have things to do.’

Only, of course, she didn’t.

She just needed to get away from the strange expression on Alastair’s face.

It was an hour later that Alastair found her.

Strangely unsettled, Penny-Rose had headed up to the battlements. Now she sat on the parapets, hugging her knees and staring out over the countryside below.

Thinking of beaches. And hopeless marriages.

And Alastair!

He found her there. She hadn’t heard him climb the stairs, and for a moment he stood in the sunshine and watched her face as she stared out away from him.

She looked bleak, he thought. And why not? She’d spent her life denying herself, and here she was denying herself again.

‘I’ve never been to the beach…’

That one phrase had been enough to give him pause. When she’d left, Alastair had stood with his mother, staring down at the pamphlets.

He had so much…

So would she, he’d told himself. In a year she could afford to go to any beach she wanted.

But…he wouldn’t be with her to see.

She’d never been to the beach.

She asked for so little. She wouldn’t have entertained the idea of this marriage if it hadn’t been for her family and the villagers, he knew, and the thought of her denying herself this was suddenly unbearable.

‘Isn’t there any way you can organise things and go?’ his mother had asked at her most wistful, and he’d looked down at her with suspicion. It had been her wheedling tone.

‘Just because you’re sick…’

‘No, dear. Just because Penny-Rose needs you.’ She had hesitated. ‘You know, the estate’s almost at the stage where it’ll run itself. Once you’re married, there’ll be funds for everything. Your new secretary knows the running of the place. When the wedding’s over he can take over with ease.’

‘And my architecture?’

‘No one’s indispensable,’ she’d said meekly. ‘And you only marry once.’

‘Mother…’

‘Sorry.’ She’d peeped a smile at him. ‘But that’s what the world needs to think. And they’ll think it very odd if you don’t honeymoon. It would give Penny-Rose so much pleasure, and I’ve already booked it…’

Her voice had faded, but her expression had stayed wistful.

It had been more than a man could stand. He’d taken the pamphlets and had gone to find Rose. And now he’d found her…

Leo was sitting by her side, his doleful expression matching hers. The pup looked up at Alastair as he appeared, and the look of reproach he gave him was almost enough to make him laugh. Good grief. You’d have sworn the dog knew!

He crossed to where she was sitting. ‘Rose…’

She glanced up, and then looked back out to the river. Fast. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told him, without looking up at him again. ‘I didn’t know your mother was planning anything so dire.’

‘As dire as a honeymoon?’ He sat beside her. Archers had once waited up here for the Vikings to sail up the river to loot and pillage. It was hard to imagine anything so dreadful on a day like today. The sun was warm on their faces and below them the river drifted dreamily on.

‘I’ve never been to the beach…’

‘I’ve just been on the phone to Koneata Lau,’ he said.

‘Cancelling things?’ For the life of her she couldn’t keep the desolation out of her voice. ‘That’s good.’

‘No. Confirming them.’

She swung around to face him, disbelief and hope warring within.

Disbelief won.

‘We can’t.’

‘We can.’

Hope flared again, but died just as fast. ‘No. It’s not possible.’

‘If I can, why can’t you?’ He ruffled Leo’s shaggy ears and grinned. ‘The only problem that I can see is Leo, and I’ve fixed that. Henri is having his bunions attended to on the day after the wedding. He’ll therefore have two weeks’ enforced rest, during which he’ll watch daytime television with Leo on his chest. And Madame Henri will dice fillet steak for your pup every night.’

‘Alastair…’ Rose was half laughing, half exasperated. ‘You know I can’t. It’s a gorgeous offer, but…’

‘But what?’

‘My sisters and brother…’

‘That’s what I need to talk to you about,’ Alastair took her hands and pulled her to her feet.

Which was maybe a mistake. Her breasts pressed against his chest and, as his hands gripped hers, the texture of her hands and the closeness of her body was doing something really strange.

But he didn’t know what.

Just tell her what you need to tell her and then get out of here, he thought desperately. Now.

And somehow he made his voice work.

‘You’re doing this for your family,’ he told her. ‘Marrying me. But when you said, “I’ve never been to the beach”, I thought, They won’t have either. And they’re probably just as deserving as you.’

‘But-’

‘Shut up and listen, Rose,’ he said kindly. ‘This is the plan. Your brother and sisters arrive tomorrow. They can have a couple of days looking over the castle. We marry on Thursday. And on Friday the five of us get on a plane and head for Fiji. The press will think your family is going home. Koneata Lau is renowned for its privacy-photographers are shot on sight. The five of us can have a very good time.’

‘The five of us…’

‘All of us. The very best honeymoons are crowded,’ he said, smiling. ‘What do you say?’

‘Oh, Alastair…’ He’d taken her breath away.

All her life she’d wanted to give her family a holiday. She’d struggled but so had her siblings. Nothing was easy for a family as in debt as they were.

And to take them all to Koneata Lau!

Penny-Rose couldn’t resist it. Not when it wasn’t just for her. But… All sorts of possibilities were opening up before her.

‘Your mother,’ she whispered, starry-eyed. ‘Alastair, your mother could come, too.’

‘Yeah, and my butler could do with a break, and Bert and his team would build great sandcastles.’ He grinned. ‘No.’ Then he relented. ‘Actually, I asked my mother, but she refused. She’s probably right when she says that a long plane flight would be too much for her.’

‘If only she were well…’

‘We’ll get her well. After our honeymoon we’ll pressure her to stay here and give her a real break. But meanwhile, the thing that could give her real pleasure is if we agree to her plan. What do you say, Rose? Can I take you-and all your family-on a honeymoon to die for?’

‘Oh, Alastair…’

It was too much. She looked up at him, her eyes shining, and suddenly, before he knew what she was about, she’d stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

It had been intended as a kiss of gratitude-nothing more. But she was emotional, close to tears, and she let her feather-light kiss stay on his lips for just a fraction of a second too long.

Because somehow it became not a feather-light kiss.

In fact, feather-light suddenly didn’t come near it.

Beneath the surface, a feeling of warmth and empathy had begun to flow between them, a feeling as powerful as it was real.

They’d started this mad escapade as a business proposition. What had passed between them over the last few weeks had made them friends. And now it was shifting past that, to something deeper.

It had already shifted for Penny-Rose-she knew what she was feeling-but Alastair had no idea. He’d let her lips touch his and he’d expected a soft brush of mouth against mouth. Nothing more. What he received was an electric charge that nearly blew him away.

A surge of wanting engulfed him that was so powerful-so all-engulfing-that his hands moved up instinctively to steady her. As if she could somehow feel it too and be hurt by it…

So it was natural that his hands held her-steadied her and pulled her even closer into him-and the linking of their lips forged an even stronger tie.

Dear heaven…

The taste of her… The feel of her…

He’d never felt like this, he thought dazedly. It was as if her body were merging into his, and there was a sweetness about her that he could hardly believe. She was so innocent and she was lovely and…

She was his for the taking!

She was to be his wife!

For a whole minute he gave himself up to the exquisite sensation of savouring her touch. Of believing that something could come of this. Something magical-that he could let himself love.

That in four days’ time he could marry this woman and take her to him and have her for ever. That he could let this sensation run where it would, letting it take its own sweet course and be damned with the consequences.

The kiss grew deeper. Neither could break the moment-break the contact. It was too precious. Too infinitely valuable.

It was as unexpected as it was magical.

‘M’sieur…’

The voice came from below, echoing up toward the open door of the battlements. Henri must have seen Alastair come up and was calling for him. ‘M’sieur, are you there?’

With his feet, it would have been agonising for the old butler to climb the spiral staircase, but they heard the heavy tread as he started.

It was enough.

Penny-Rose broke away. For one long moment Alastair still held her, his hands on her arms and his gaze locked on hers. Their eyes reflected mutual confusion, mutual need.

But…

‘I’m coming, Henri,’ Alastair called, halting the man before he could do himself any damage. ‘What is it?’

‘Your friend from Paris is on the phone,’ Henri announced. He didn’t need to say more. The staff hadn’t taken to Belle, and Henry used the same words and inflection every time she rang. Your friend from Paris…

Belle. It had to be. As usual, her timing was impeccable.

They both knew who it was, and the moment Henri spoke it was as if Belle had planted herself firmly between them. Alastair let his hands fall.

‘I’m…I’m sorry,’ he managed, and Penny-Rose shook her head. It needed only that. An apology.

‘Don’t be. I had no business to kiss you.’

‘I never meant-’

‘Of course you didn’t.’

He looked at her uncertainly. ‘It was just… I was worried about my mother and-’

‘Don’t explain things to me, Alastair,’ she said gently. Because he couldn’t.

Penny-Rose had to let him off the hook. He was confused and angry with himself. She could see that. He’d broken his unwritten rule.

This hadn’t been a kiss that could be forgotten. It had been very much more.

Penny-Rose knew how much more.

But Alastair would have to discover it for himself.

Talk about avoidance! If two people didn’t want to see each other, a castle was the perfect home, and over the next twenty-four hours a lot of avoidance took place.

Not deliberately, of course. Never that. But if Penny-Rose happened to be visiting Marguerite and Alastair decided to do the same, he’d hear her voice on the other side of the door and suddenly think of an urgent task down in the offices. Or there was a cow in trouble in the river pasture that he felt sure his farm manager needed a hand with-and it just happened to be dinner-time when it happened.

Or he’d be eating his leftover dinner in the kitchen and hear Henri and Rose walking down the passage toward him-and suddenly he’d had enough to eat. He was no longer hungry.

This was going to be some marriage if he couldn’t face the girl!

‘Keep it formal,’ Belle had said, and he knew he had to do just that. Anything else was the way of madness.

He was not going to lose his head like a stupid schoolboy. He was not exposing himself to the pain he’d known when he’d lost Lissa. And what he’d felt for Lissa seemed pale to how he could love-

No! Stupid thought.

Keep it formal. Or keep away entirely.

For twelve months?

He could only try.

It was madness, Penny-Rose thought bleakly to herself as she tried for sleep that night. Loving and marrying without being loved in return?

For the first time she let herself think what would happen if her loving didn’t work. What if nothing came of it but cold formality and divorce after twelve months?

‘I could go nuts,’ she told Leo. ‘Seriously, peculiarly nuts.

‘Or maybe I am already. Maybe I was nuts to agree to this wedding.

‘And now a honeymoon.’

But she wasn’t backing out. No way.

And money didn’t enter the equation at all.

‘He’s a dish, but he’s awfully formal.’ Twenty-four hours into their visit her siblings were ready to pronounce judgement. ‘Why doesn’t he lighten up a little?’

‘He’s a prince. He’s supposed to be formal,’ Penny-Rose retorted, and got howled down for her pains.

‘I suppose he wears a crown to bed.’ It was Heather, ever the impertinent one. She chuckled, bouncing on her sister’s gorgeous bed where they’d retired to gossip. ‘What does he wear to bed, by the way? Gold pyjamas?’ And then, as Penny-Rose turned an interesting shade of pink, her sister homed in like a bee to honey. ‘You mean you don’t know?’ Her jaw dropped in amazement. ‘You’re engaged to be married and you don’t know what he wears to bed?’

‘Maybe he doesn’t wear anything to bed,’ Elizabeth butted in, and Penny-Rose sighed. Honestly, her sisters were incorrigible.

‘Do you two mind? Mike’s here.’

‘Michael’s sixteen years old and sixteen-year-olds know more than you do,’ Heather retorted. ‘I’ll bet!’

It was Mike’s turn to blush, but still he grinned.

‘Does he lighten up?’ he persisted. Accompanying Penny-Rose, Alastair had met them off the plane. He’d been welcoming and pleasant but distant, and as soon as they’d reached the castle he’d excused himself, saying Rose needed time with her family. They’d hardly seen him since.

‘He’s busy,’ Penny-Rose said. ‘He has a wedding to organise the day after tomorrow, and it’s getting to him.’

But the question stayed the same. ‘Does he lighten up?’

‘He does.’

‘If you say so.’ Heather was fidgeting with her fingers. Finally she found the courage to say what needed to be said. ‘Love, you’re not just doing this for the money, are you? For…for us?’

If ever there was a time to admit that this was a marriage of convenience, this was it. But Penny-Rose gazed around at the anxious faces of her family and found she couldn’t do it. They were obligated to her enough, she thought. It wasn’t fair to make the debt deeper.

‘Stoopid, why would I-?’

‘You would.’ Heather sounded seriously perturbed. ‘I know you would. It’s been getting harder and harder for us all to stay at uni, and the burden’s been heaviest on you. But I can leave. I can defer for a couple of years.’

‘You’d never go back.’

‘I would.’

‘The odds are against it.’ Penny-Rose spread her hands. ‘I love stone-walling and that’s what I’m doing. We’re all doing what we want. So…you’re going to be a doctor, Liz will be an architect and Mike will be the world’s greatest engineer.’

‘But…’ Heather was still threading her fingers. ‘Not if it means you’re making an unhappy marriage.’ Her chin lifted and her eyes met her sister’s. Really, they were very alike. ‘Do you love him?’ she asked directly.

And there was only one answer to that.

‘Yes, I do,’ Penny-Rose said, in a voice that left no room for doubt.

And how could she doubt? Marriage to Alastair? It was what she wanted, even more than stone-walling.

But what was she being offered?

Not a proper marriage. A marriage of convenience.

‘Of course I love him,’ she said, even more strongly. ‘And how can I want any more than that?’

How indeed?