Princess Of Convenience

CHAPTER TWELVE

SHE should be driving on this side of the road. Surely?

She was back where this had all started. The road was spiralling around snow-capped mountains, with the sea crashing a hundred feet below.

As it had before.

There were mediaeval castles, ancient fishing villages, lush pastures dotted with long-haired goats and alpacas-every sight seemingly designed to take the breath away.

She was past losing breath over this scenery.

The twist she’d just taken had given her a fleeting glimpse of the home of the Alp’Azuri royal family. Built of glistening white stone, set high on the crags overlooking the sea, the castle’s high walls, its turrets and its towers looked straight out of a fairy tale.

Yeah, right. Not such a fairy tale. Raoul’s home.

But she wasn’t concentrating on Raoul’s home. Up above she’d caught a glimpse of a brilliant-yellow sports car, coming fast.

She wasn’t even going to think about what side of the road it was on this time. She was driving an ancient rent-a-heap and she was towing an even more ancient horse-trailer. She made a really big target.

Carefully she pulled off the road, onto a verge which was wider than the one she’d pulled onto when she’d crashed with Sarah. She was safe here, whatever side of the road the car was on.

The Lamborghini came around the bend fast, but not so fast to make it unsafe. It was a truly elegant sports car.

It was on the right side of the road.

It was a yellow Lamborghini.

Raoul.

The hood was down. Raoul was concentrating on the road.

Jessica’s window was also down. As the Lamborghini swept past she stared across.

Raoul flicked a glance sideways and Comte Marcel came close to getting his way after all. The Prince Regent of Alp’Azuri came really, really close to driving straight off a cliff.

Somehow he didn’t crash. Somehow Raoul managed to park, backing up until the Lamborghini was at rest beside the battered heap of junk Jess was driving. He stared across, unable to believe that he’d found her. She was looking across at him with wide, grave eyes that held an expression he couldn’t read.

‘You’ve come back,’ he said, stupidly, and she nodded.

‘I had to bring Angel.’

‘Right.’ He didn’t understand but he wasn’t arguing.

He was in his car. She was in hers. It was a thoroughly unsatisfactory arrangement which needed to be corrected immediately. It was easy enough for him to get out of his car-it was done in seconds-but that still left her.

‘Jess, will you get out of the car?’

‘Why?’

‘I want to kiss you.’

‘Um… It’s just a marriage of convenience,’ she said tentatively, mechanically, as if she wasn’t sure what she was feeling.

‘Like hell it is.’ He tugged at the door. It didn’t open. ‘You’ve locked the door.’

‘Only the passenger door opens. You have to climb over the gear stick to get in or out.’

‘Well, climb over the gear stick.’

‘Why?’

‘I told you. I want to kiss you.’

‘You’re not mad because I ran away?’

‘I’m mad because you haven’t climbed over the gear stick.’ He strode around the back of the trailer to reach the passenger door. Angel stuck her head out over the trailer gate and she pushed her nose in his neck. He jumped a foot.

‘Why is Angel here?’ He took a deep breath, regrouped and abandoned Angel. ‘No, never mind. Where were we?’ He hauled open the passenger door.

Jess was coming out feet first.

He wanted the other end.

‘Why do you want to kiss me?’ she asked, muffled by the car seat.

‘You’re my wife. I love you.’

‘You love me?’

‘Of course I love you,’ he told her. ‘Of course I do.’ She was out, and he was turning her to face him.

‘Last night…you never said you did,’ she whispered cautiously. ‘You said you might.’

‘That’s because you wouldn’t let me win at slot-cars.’ He was tugging her into his arms, holding her close. ‘I never tell anyone I love them when they won’t let me win at slot-cars.’

‘And if I let you win?’

‘Then I’ll love you forever and ever.’ He bent to kiss her-but she pushed away. Just a little.

‘Raoul…’

Laughter faded. The joy at finding her took a back step as he recognised the seriousness and the deep doubts in her voice. He heard the echo of tears and he drew back. His hands were cupping her face, his eyes were searching hers and he thought: how could he have ever thought that he might in time come to love this woman? He loved her with his whole heart. Right now.

‘Jess, you can win at slot-cars any time you want,’ he said, and he couldn’t keep his voice steady. It was doing this quaver thing that he didn’t recognise-that he couldn’t control. ‘I’ve been a fool,’ he said and in that instant any hint of levity fell away. There was only room for truth between them, and both of them knew it. ‘Jess, darling Jess, I love you now, with all my heart, with everything I have. You are my wife, Jess, whether or not you want to stay with me. But I so hope you do. I do so hope you can. When I thought you’d left me… Oh, Jess.’

‘I don’t…’

‘It’s Dominic, isn’t it?’ he asked, and his hands caressed her face, willing the pain to disappear from her eyes. ‘Jess, loving again isn’t a betrayal of Dominic. How can it be?’

‘I don’t know,’ she whispered and he heard the agony of indecision. ‘It just seems…wrong.’

‘I know. It’s far too soon.’ He was seeking desperately to understand her pain. He was smoothing her face, tracing her spent tears. Loving her with his whole heart. ‘For you to lose your baby and then have us thrust on you; it’s far too fast. But it’s happened. Magically it’s happened, my love.’ He hesitated. ‘Surely Dominic wouldn’t want your world to stay grey.’

‘No. He wouldn’t.’

He hadn’t got it right. She was suddenly angry, pushing him away in distress. ‘Of course he wouldn’t. Dominic didn’t want anything except to be. To live. But he didn’t. I couldn’t save him. And he can’t be part of this. How can I have a happy ending when he can’t?’

There was a moment’s hush. The waves washed in and out beneath them while he tried desperately, frantically, to find the right words.

‘And Lisle can’t,’ he said softly, at last. ‘And Jean-Paul and Cherie and Sarah. And the people I’m working with in Somalia. So much death. It eats away at you. I know it, my Jess, and I hate it. The waste.’

‘I don’t… I just want my Dominic.’

It was a wail of aching sorrow and it was too much. He pulled her against his shoulder and he stroked the close-cropped curls and kissed the top of her head. She shuddered against him and he held her closer.

‘Did you cry, my love?’ he asked softly. ‘When Dominic died-did you cry then?’

‘I… No. I couldn’t.’

‘Yet this morning you cried.’

‘When I looked at Edouard. With his family.’

Damn, his heart was breaking just listening to her. If he could take this pain away… He’d cut his own heart out to spare her this desolation.

But he couldn’t. The death of her son was something that would stay with her forever and all he could do was be there for her.

‘You know, families are strange things,’ he said, softly into her curls. He was barely touching her with his hands, aware that at any minute she could pull away. She was leaning into him but his hands didn’t lock her to him.

The sea air was warm on their skin. The sound of the surf was a gentle hush-hush of a backdrop. But he wasn’t noticing. He was fighting, and he was fighting with everything he had.

‘In Somalia…’ he told her, going sideways to her desolation but sensing it was maybe the right thing to do. ‘In Somalia the people are being decimated by AIDS. I see tragedies every day as I work there. So many orphans. So many deaths. But you know, the inter-aid agencies have gone down the road of adopting children out of their own countries and they’ve drawn back. Because no matter how dreadful the circumstances, no matter how many deaths there are in families, families seem to reform. Regroup. Two families become one. Two teenage girls, friends, get together to raise siblings. Grandmas and uncles and second cousins once removed are stepping in to pick up the pieces. I’ve watched it over and over, with awe. And you know what, my Jess? The only linking they have is love.’

‘But…’

‘Don’t stop me,’ he told her, still stroking her hair. Aching for her to understand this with him. ‘Because I’m only just figuring this out for myself. Since Lisle’s death, I’ve been an outsider looking in. I didn’t think I had any love left to give. But of course I did. Love expands to fill the void. Edouard needs my love. My mother and Henri… I love them and they love me. And I love my memories of Lisle. How could I have said I had no more love when I still love my twin? She’s part of my life forever. Dominic’s death has brought you over to my country, despairing, and his life will stay in my heart for always as well. Because of you, my darling Jess, Dominic will live on, with us, with those we love now and with those who come after. But only if we let that legacy live on, my love. Love can’t look back all the time. What I’ve found with you…it’s given me so much joy that I feel I can face anything. With you. Because most of all, best of all, greatest of all, I love you.’

He set her back from him then, just a little, holding her at arm’s length so he could see her face. She stared up at him with eyes that were unfathomable and he didn’t know, he couldn’t tell…

‘I’m asking you to give me a chance,’ he whispered. ‘I’m asking you to let me teach you that we can be a family. That we’re not excluding anyone or dishonouring anyone. If you agree, if you let me love you, then we’ll be taking our love for Dominic and for Lisle and Edouard and Mama and Henri-and cousin Cordelia and whoever else comes along-but most of all we’ll be taking our love for each other and we’ll be moving forward. I love you so much, my beautiful Jessica, and I want more than anything else in the world to make you happy. Will you give me that chance? Can we move forward…together?’

There was no answer. She was reaching up for him. She had her hands in his hair, tugging his face down to hers.

‘Is this for real?’ she asked. ‘Is this truly how you feel about me?’

‘How can you doubt it?’

‘It’s just…it’s a bit of a shock,’ she told him.

‘Why?’

‘You see, I’ve been driving up this road for the last hour, pushing this stupid alpaca into the trailer, bringing her home, and every step of the way I’ve been thinking exactly what you’re thinking.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘I never kid,’ she told him. ‘Not when you’re concerned. I’ve been missing Dominic so much, but then when I had to leave I thought I was adding yet another loss to my collection. I wanted you so much it just…cut. And now, here you are, saying all the right things, making it…fine.’

‘Fine?’

‘It’s not a great description for how I’m feeling,’ she whispered. ‘But it’s the best I can do without a scriptwriter. Does being a princess make me eligible to have a scriptwriter?’

‘You’re doing just fine on your own,’ he told her. ‘But if you want a scriptwriter you shall have one. You shall have anything you wish. Forever.’ He smiled. And smiled and smiled and smiled.

So…’ Her nose was two inches from his nose and she was smiling almost as much as he was. ‘Let’s get this straight. Even if I don’t let you win at slot-cars, you’ll still love me.’

The sun was coming out, he thought, a blazing sun that warmed every inch of his being. She was so close. She was laughing into his eyes, her eyes were wet with tears and she was his. His own, his lovely Jessica!

‘I’ll love you forever and ever anyway,’ he told her. ‘Though I may have to sabotage your slot-car. Now, have you any other questions?’

‘No.’

‘Then how about hushing to be kissed?’

‘What a truly excellent idea,’ she murmured and that was the last thing either of them could say for a very long time.

‘Well!’ It was a woman’s voice. American. ‘The things you see.’

‘It’s local colour,’ her friend said, dubiously.

There was a tour bus right by them-the kind that took tourists on a See-Europe-in-Ten-Days type of tour. The combination of Jessica’s car and Raoul’s Lamborghini meant the bus had been brought to a halt and the bus driver was honking for them to move.

Which might well happen when they finished kissing. Eventually. Maybe.

The bus doors were opening now, and, as Jess and Raoul drew reluctantly apart, tourists started piling out. There was a great view of the castle from here, and the bus passengers had obviously demanded to use the opportunity for photographs.

‘They say the prince got married yesterday,’ someone said. ‘If I used my telephoto lens I might see royalty.’

‘Not from here,’ someone else said.

‘Hey, you,’ the bus driver told Raoul. ‘Move that heap of junk.’ Then he eyed the Lamborghini. ‘And that, too.’

‘Not until I’ve finished proposing,’ Raoul said, and went back to kissing Jessica.

‘Proposing,’ Jess said breathlessly, in between kisses. ‘What are you proposing?’

‘This morning,’ he said, softly, in her hair, ‘after you left my bed, I remembered that I’d forgotten. You proposed to me.’ His arms held her, tightly, as if she was the most precious thing in the world. ‘But I forgot to propose to you. Jess, this started out as a marriage of convenience but that lasted a whole two minutes before I realised that I’d married the most wonderful woman in the world. That I love you more than life itself. Those we’ve lost, Jess-they’re still with us. They’re part of us and they’ll stay with us as we stay together. As we live together. As man and wife.’

‘That’s…that’s proposing?’ she whispered.

‘No, it’s not,’ he told her and promptly fell to one knee.

‘Hey, look at this,’ said their first American tourist and nudged her friend.

‘It’s Jessica.’ The yell went up from back up the road. Edouard, his hand held by Henri on one side and Louise on the other, had found their way blocked by the coach and had come the last few steps on foot. ‘It’s Jessica. And Uncle Raoul’s on the ground.’

‘He’s proposing,’ the American said and everyone in the tour group focused.

‘He’s proposing,’ Louise whispered. ‘Oh, Jess.’

‘Wait for us.’ It was a roar, and they turned to see a mêlée of newsmen. Clearly, Louise and Henri and Edouard had been followed. There were professional photographers here now. One edged his way in front of the American tourist and got a swipe from her handbag for his pains.

‘This is my spot.’

‘But if His Highness is proposing…’

‘His Highness?’

‘This is the Prince Regent of Alp’Azuri,’ the photographer said. ‘And his family.’

‘Well, why didn’t you say so?’ the woman exclaimed. ‘Go ahead,’ she said to Raoul. ‘Don’t mind us.’

‘I won’t,’ Raoul said. ‘Jess…’

‘Can you move a little to the right?’ the photographer called.

The photographer was ignored. ‘Jessie…’

‘Yes?’ She was torn between tears and laughter. She was stranded in the most beautiful place in the world. She was surrounded by the people she loved-and a whole lot of people she’d never seen in her life. And Raoul was saying,

‘Will you be my wife?’

It was maybe the weirdest proposal that had ever been made in the history of the Alp’Azuri royal family.

It was the most excellent proposal Jess had ever heard.

And there was only one answer.

She looked down at the man she loved. He gazed up at her and his eyes said it all. She needed courage to take this leap, but he was right here to catch her, forever and ever and ever.

‘Yes, my love,’ she told him. ‘Yes, I’ll be your wife. Forever.’

It was the weirdest day.

It was the best day. A day for moving on…

They’d been surrounded by celebrations, by fuss, by laughter and happiness all this day. Now finally the population of the castle had gone to bed. Soon Jess and Raoul would return to the bridal suite for the real beginning of their married life. But for now…

Now they walked out under the stars and entered the stables.

Angel was kneeling in the hay, and nuzzling her udder were two tiny crias. Matilda and Balthazar.

It had taken time to reunite these three. For a start they’d had to get rid of their audience. Then they’d led a shaky Angel into the stables. For a moment she’d nuzzled the babies, uncertain.

Balthazar had pushed his tiny head under her udder and drunk.

Angel had licked him and then lowered her head into the manger and eaten.

But then Matilda had tried.

Angel had turned and pushed the baby away.

One baby, it had seemed, was enough.

But Raoul was made of sterner stuff. He lifted Balthazar away from the teat. He held him at arm’s length and Angel bleated her distress.

Jess shepherded Matilda back to the teat.

Angel pushed her away.

Over and over.

Half an hour. The tiny Balthazar was frantic and Matilda was starting to wilt.

And then…Angel finally lifted her head and stared from Jess to Raoul and back again.

‘Come on,’ Raoul told her. ‘You have enough heart for two babies.’

Angel seemed to sigh. She turned back to Matilda, who was still by her side. She nosed her, licked her-and finally she let her attach to her teat.

Gently, Raoul had placed Balthazar down. He wriggled his way under, and two babies had been united with their mother.

Now they walked over to the stables, half expecting their happy ending to be not so happy-for her to have rejected one again.

But the three alpacas were fast asleep on the hay. A twin lay on either side of the udder. Angel stirred and looked up as they came in and gave a sleepy alpaca yawn.

‘We’ve done it,’ Raoul said in satisfaction. ‘We’ve united a family.

‘So we have,’ Jess said, softly, from the blessing of her husband’s arms.

‘So we have.’

And two months later…another ceremony.

Two vials of ashes. One taken from a vault in Paris. There had never seemed an appropriate time, an appropriate place. The other taken from the children’s wall of a cemetery in Sydney.

Lisle and Dominic.

They were gathered together, this day. The calm old priest who’d blessed this marriage, Raoul and Jess, and all who loved them.

This was perfect, Jess thought.

They were in the walled kitchen garden. All around the edges were roses, wisteria, jasmine, hollyhocks, delphiniums, a riot of brilliant colour. In the centre were rows and rows of vegetables, enough to feed a small village. Hens-chooks?-were clucking around the edges. Doves were fluttering around the dovecote in the far corner. Through the gaps in the ancient stone walling you could see and hear the sea.

This kitchen garden was no formal garden. It was used every day, by everyone who lived in this castle. Edouard played here with his baby alpacas-though they had to be kept sternly from the lettuces. The servants gossiped here. Louise and Henri sat and held hands and watched Edouard play. Raoul and Jess sat here in the moonlight. And soon… In not so many months, maybe there’d be a crib out here, where a little one could have a daily dose of sun.

Home. Home is where the heart is, Jess thought dreamily. Home is here.

There were even two cracked and blackened pots arranged artistically on a garden bench, which Raoul refused to remove because ‘Every time I look at them I remember how wonderful life is’.

And now…

The priest said the last few words of blessing. Louise unfastened the lid of one urn and gave it to Raoul.

Jess unfastened her own small urn.

They turned together, hand in hand and faced the sea. They lifted their urns and they let the ash drift across the garden on the soft sea breeze to land where it would.

The urns were empty. Jess turned and she held her husband tight, and once again she shed tears. But this time there was no desolation.

This was right.

Lisle and Dominic had come home.

With their families.