Wanted: Royal Wife and Mother

CHAPTER TEN

RAFAEL’S shoulder was dislocated. His leg was badly gashed. He’d be okay.

Officialdom took over. The little village had a very competent doctor and two efficient nurses. They carried him into the nearest intact house, put his shoulder back into place, stitched his leg, cleaned him up as much as they could and then ordered bedrest.

‘When I’m back at the castle,’ Rafael growled.

Kelly and Matty had been relegated to the background. They’d sat at the kitchen table while the women of the house plied them with soup and towels and as much comfort as they could. But Kelly’s hands didn’t stop shaking. She was holding Matty and she was aware that he was trembling as well.

He needed his nursery, she thought. He needed Marguerite and Ellen and Laura. He was clinging to her; she was his mama, but he needed the familiarity of home to ground him.

Home. The castle. The royal palace of Alp de Ciel.

They couldn’t get a car there. ‘But I’m thinking a horse and cart,’ the doctor said.

‘I’ll ride,’ Rafael countered, but the doctor looked at him as if he were crazy.

‘A horse and cart it is,’ Kelly said, and thus half an hour later the royal family made its way in somewhat less than royal state-a sturdy carthorse leading the way, tugging a small haycart. The haycart was filled with mattresses and pillows. Rafael complained every inch of the way but he had a nurse who looked like Brunhilda the Great by his side, there were two burly farmers leading the horse and clearing rocks from their path as they went, and he had no choice but to submit.

Kelly brought up the rear, riding her lovely mare. Matty, whose bravado had disappeared about the time Rafael had been declared safe, had crumpled into a little boy again. He was cradled before her, almost a part of her, clinging as close as he could get. His own horse and Rafael’s stallion were being led behind.

It was like a scene from hundreds of years ago, Kelly thought, dazed. A wounded prince returning from battle, his lady following behind.

Rafael’s lady…

For that was what she was, she thought wearily as she followed the steady hoof-beats before her. Rafael’s lady. Some time in the last few dreadful hours that was what she’d become.

Princess to Rafael’s Prince.

Princess to this country.

‘I thought you couldn’t ride,’ Matty whispered. Some time this dreadful day his allegiance had shifted as well. She was suddenly his mother. Yes, she’d always been that, but in his eyes she’d also been one of many people who’d flitted through his five years. Laura and Crater had been caught up at the hospital. Without his aunt, he’d needed someone to hold him, and that someone was his mother.

‘I can ride,’ she whispered into his hair. ‘I chose not to because I was fearful of taking risks. But today…I think risks are something to be faced with courage. Not stupid risks, but those risks that need to be faced. Like being a part of this royal family.’

‘You want to be royal?’ He twisted a little, trying to see her face. ‘But you can’t be royal if you live in an attic.’

‘Maybe it’s time I came out of my attic,’ she whispered. ‘Maybe it’s time I started to live. Maybe…maybe I need to think about putting on that dress.’

The nurse and the housekeeper whisked Rafael away as soon as they arrived at the castle. Ellen and Marguerite clucked over Kelly and Matty in concern. They were washed. Their bruises and scratches were anointed with care. Kelly tucked a cleaned and fed Matty into bed and watched him close his eyes before he even reached the pillows.

She was exhausted but there was no way she was heading for her bed. She made her way though the vast passages to the north tower-the tower where the ruling prince had his suite of private apartments.

When Rafael had arrived here after Kass’s death he’d been horrified to find he was expected to use them. Crater had told her that, but he’d also told her, ‘Prince Rafael has accepted he’ll do what needs to be done. He can’t be a part-time prince.’

So he was ensconced in state. She, however, was dressed in her jeans again, clean but faded. She needed to do something about her clothes, she thought.

Tomorrow. It was hardly the time for royal gowns tonight.

But for now…

Rafael.

She stood at the vast oak doors leading into his suite and felt almost shy. She’d never been in these rooms. By the time Kass had brought her to the castle he’d long since stopped wanting her.

Such memories…They were of a different person, she thought. A child bride. A girl who’d fallen in love with royalty before she knew what it was.

She knew what it was now. She also knew that as soon as she opened this door there’d be no going back.

She’d turned her back on royalty once before. Yes, it had been Kass who’d shunned her, but if there’d been a choice…Yes, she would have fled. She would have taken her small son with her but still she would have fled.

Rafael was right through this door. Rafael, who had almost as much call as she to hate royalty but who’d accepted his responsibilities; his duty.

Anna would go on with the merchandising of his toys, Kelly thought. Rafael would still be able to develop them, but his life had changed. The wealthy Manhattan bachelor had accepted his heritage.

This wasn’t her heritage, but she loved Matty and because she loved Matty she’d come back to the castle.

And because she loved Rafael, she’d stay.

All she had to do was tell him.

Such a little thing.

It was so hard to open the door.

‘Open the door or go back to your attics,’ she told herself sternly. ‘Go on, Kelly. You can do it.’

‘Princess Kelly,’ she whispered back to herself. ‘Princess Kellyn Marie de Boutaine. Open the door, stupid.’

His bed was enormous-the size of a small room! The four-poster bed was hung with acres of rich velvet curtains tied back with vast gold ropes and tassels. The eiderdowns were in matching crimson and purple and gold, as were the mountains of pillows at the end of the bed.

For a moment she couldn’t see that anyone was in the bed.

‘Kelly?’ a loved voice said and she stilled.

‘H-Hi. If you want to sleep I can come back later.’

‘You’re here,’ he said in sleepy satisfaction. ‘They’ve given me painkillers. They’re making me woozy. Tell me I’m not dreaming. Tell me we got all those kids out and you’re here.’

She crossed to the bed in a little run, and then stopped short-absurdly self-conscious.

‘We got every single kid out,’ she said unsteadily. ‘And the schoolteacher. And you. Rafael, you might have been killed.’

‘We got ’em out,’ he said in sleepy satisfaction and his hand came out and caught her wrist and held. Hard. ‘What’s the final toll?’

‘Six,’ she whispered. ‘All elderly people who couldn’t get out of the way fast enough-the slip made a huge noise on the way down and most people were outside anyway.’

‘Injuries?’

‘None life-threatening. We’ve been lucky.’

‘And elsewhere?’ His voice was hoarse with worry. Kelly sank into the chair beside the bed, put her hand up to his face and traced his cheekbone with her finger.

‘It was a minor earth tremor,’ she whispered. ‘There’s little damage apart from in the village. There’s been some road damage near the border but nothing major. It was only the recent deforestation of the hillside that caused the slip.’

‘Kass should never have allowed…’

‘You will never allow,’ she said strongly. ‘It’s your call now, Rafael.’

‘We will never allow,’ he said, his voice strengthening.

‘You’ll turn the country into a democracy?’ she asked, wondering. It was what the other three Alp countries had done-altered the constitution so the monarchy was a titular head only.

‘Of course, but that’s not what I meant when I said we,’ he said, and his hold on her wrist tightened.

Her heart stilled.

‘Rafael…’

‘Kelly,’ he said and he smiled.

She gazed down at him. Her battered hero. His face was a mass of scratches and bruises. A long, thin scratch ran from ear to chin. The doctor had put a couple of stitches in the lower reaches. They’d cleaned him as much as they could but he wasn’t fit yet for a full shower so his hair was still spiked with mud.

She loved him with all her heart.

‘I love you,’ he said and her heart restarted. If it was possible for a heart to sing, it sang now. She could hear it. A heart full of nightingales.

‘I guess I love you too,’ she said unsteadily. ‘All the time you were under that slab…’

‘You love me?’

‘Maybe it’s fear. Maybe.’

‘Maybe nothing,’ he growled. ‘The guys tell me it was your skill that had them tunnelling in so professionally. We were lucky the whole thing didn’t come down on us.’

It had. She didn’t tell him that but he’d learn it anyway. Just after they’d pulled Rafael out, a final tremor had come through. The mass of mud had settled again, and their basement refuge had turned into what would have been a mass grave.

She shivered.

‘Damn,’ he said and struggled to sit up.

‘Rafael, no.’

‘Then lie down beside me,’ he said, his voice gaining strength. ‘A man’s got to say what a man’s got to say. Dammit, I should go down on bended knee.’

On bended knee…

‘I don’t think any of us are capable of bending for quite a while,’ she whispered, and amazingly she heard herself chuckle. His tug was insistent. Well, what the heck. She hauled back the covers, wiggled in and lay down beside him.

He pulled her as close as he could, he turned his face to hers and he kissed her.

Fourth kiss? It was the best, she decided. It was the best by a country mile. It was a kiss of release of terror. It was a kiss of love. It was a kiss of promise.

‘You know we can’t go further,’ he said, his voice laced with passion as finally he let her go. Only an inch, mind, but release her he did. ‘I’m so full of drugs…’

‘And you need to sleep.’

‘Sleep be damned,’ he said. ‘Kelly, will you marry me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Just like that?’

‘Just like that.’

‘It’s putting you in the royal goldfish bowl again,’ he said, holding her close.

‘But I’ll be in it with you,’ she whispered. ‘And with Matty. If it’s a goldfish bowl with you guys or a big wide world without, it’s a no-brainer.’

‘I’m your second prince.’

‘Kass was no prince,’ she said scornfully. ‘He might have been born royal but he never earned the title. You, however…You’re prince through and through.’

‘I’m a toy-maker.’

‘And an equestrian,’ she said, snuggling against him. He was wearing pyjamas. Self striped, flannel pyjamas. They’d have to go, she thought. Maybe not right now, though. A girl should show some restraint in the face of an injured hero.

He’d asked her to marry him!

‘I guess riding again wasn’t so bad,’ he admitted.

‘Your father loved it.’

‘My father would have loved you.’

‘My son loves you already.’

‘Kelly,’ he murmured and the strength had left his voice again. He had been heavily sedated to put his shoulder back in, she knew. He should be asleep.

‘Yes, my love?’

‘We can be a family?’

‘Yes.’

‘A royal family?’

‘I’ll even wear a tiara,’ she teased and the hand around her waist tightened.

‘Kelly?’

‘Mmm.’

‘I’m probably not capable of anything at all…’

‘No, but…’

‘No, but I can try,’ he said. ‘You know I asked you to marry me?’

‘Yes.’

‘And if a thing’s promised then it’s as good as done-right?’

‘I guess,’ she said dubiously, not sure where this was going.

‘Then I have a wife,’ he said in sleepy satisfaction. ‘I have a princess. And, as a princess, as a wife, there are certain duties you’ll be expected to face.’

‘I…I guess.’

‘Then we might as well start now,’ he said, resigned.

‘Um…right.’ She thought about it. She twisted and pushed herself up so she was looking down into his beloved face. He was smiling. He was even laughing! And the look in his eyes…

It was a very royal look. It was a look of complete seduction.

‘I only have one good arm,’ he whispered as he tugged her down to him. ‘Kelly, my love, my princess, my wife, I need help right now.’

‘To do…to do what?’

‘To take off these pyjamas!’

As coronations went it was magnificent.

Crater, as Secretary of State of Alp de Ciel, had been to the coronations in each of the Alp countries. He’d watched with wonder and with outright envy as the new generation of royals had taken their places as leaders in their countries, leading the way to prosperity for all.

They were here now. Prince Raoul of Alp d’Azuri was here, with the Princess Jessica, with their little son Edouard and with their twin daughters, Nicky and Lisle. Prince Maxsim of Alp d’Estella was in the next pew, with his Pippa and Marc and Sophie and Claire and bump. Prince Nikolai of Alp de Montez, with his beloved Princess Rose, with no bump as yet, were free to be best man and matron of honour. There might be no bump, but by the way they were looking at each other Crater knew the succession of Alp d’Estella was assured.

As it was assured here in Alp de Ciel. For this coronation was also a wedding.

‘I’m damned if we’re dragging all these dignitaries here twice,’ Rafael had decreed. ‘You say the coronation has to take place almost immediately. That’s how Kelly and I feel about our wedding. Besides, Anna will kill me if I drag her away from New York twice in a month, and I’m tired of her yelling at us. So we combine.’

So combine they did. The vast and ancient cathedral in Alp de Ciel’s capital was full to bursting. Every dignitary worthy of the name was crammed in, plus representatives of all walks of life in Alp de Ciel. The staff from the diggings in Australia sent representatives, beaming with approval at this happy ending for a loved staff member. Pete, as senior representative, was giving the bride away. Even Rafael’s work team from Manhattan was here-his disabled staff-as many as could fly over. Rafael was planning a local workforce with the same background. It was an outward sign of the changes that were already sweeping the country.

‘For this government is of the people, for the people, by the people, starting now,’ Rafael and Kelly had decreed, and Crater agreed entirely. Their attitude meant a motley guest list, but so what? Royalty was changing for the better, in ways Crater could only wonder at.

Everywhere Crater looked there was approval-and no more so than at the end of the aisle where one small page-boy was holding a ring, waiting impatiently for Kelly and Rafael to need it.

Matty had reacted with joy to the news of Rafael and Kelly’s engagement, whooping and bouncing with an excitement that made him seem less of a Crown Prince and more of a little boy with the world at his feet. From the time of the landslip the castle seemed to be tumbling with new life and new puppies and a kid who’d been released from his royal imperatives.

His lessons from Crater had been quartered. ‘For there’s all the time in the world for Matty to learn his royal obligations,’ Kelly had decreed. ‘For the next twenty years, those obligations are the responsibility of his parents.’

His parents…

For Matty had parents now and he approved entirely. Rafael would be his father as well as Prince Regent. Matty thought that was the neatest thing in the whole world. In the mornings he bounced into bed with Kelly, hugging her tight, claiming to the world that he had a mother he loved.

His Aunt Laura was in the front pew, weeping into a still inevitably paint-spattered handkerchief. Matty couldn’t figure that one out. Why was she crying? He was watching this wedding with joy and love and anticipation of a very good party.

If they’d just get on with it.

And so they did.

‘With this ring I thee wed…’

Rafael took the ring from Matty and he placed it on his bride’s finger. His bride…Kelly, who’d embraced the royal wedding with enthusiasm and love. Her dress was truly wondrous. She looked like an Elizabethan bride, a true royal princess. Her dragon train swept out behind her, the golden embroidery shimmering in the sunlight streaming through the ancient stained glass windows. She looked truly regal.

But she also looked like a woman in love. She smiled mistily up at her bridegroom and the whole cathedral seemed to dissolve.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house, Crater thought, wiping away a surreptitious tear himself. And then, as he thought of what approached-the formal joining of these four nations to become one mighty Federation, he abandoned trying and let his tears flow freely.

These four Princes with their brides…Who said love couldn’t conquer all? he thought. Love was making a damned fine fist of conquering all, right here, right now.

And the next morning-the first morning of their married life-they started as they meant to go on. Prince Rafael and Princess Kellyn rode together at dawn.

For their wedding gifts to each other were horses. Blaze would be ridden and loved and cared for, as would the other horses in the stables, but Blaze had been a part of Kass’s life. He belonged to Matty now.

Kelly and Rafael needed to find their own future.

So they’d stolen two days from the mad preparation for the wedding and they’d spent those days looking at horses. They’d found Kelly’s mare first. She was a silky-coated two-year-old, a soft grey with white markings, fearless and gentle in equal measure. She’d been bred for sale, but the farmer who’d bred her couldn’t bear to part with her. Until now.

When the word had gone out that the Princess Kellyn needed a horse, she’d been quietly proffered. Her name was Cher, meaning beloved, and she already was.

And for Rafael…Nero had taken longer to find, and in the end they’d had to travel to Italy. But he was worth every moment of travelling time. Nero was all black. When they’d first seen him, he’d seemed too big, too powerful, too breathtaking. But Rafael had mounted him and looked down at Kelly, his eyes gleaming with excitement and pleasure.

They’d bought him. Of course they’d bought him. For this was what the future held for them. Excitement and pleasure and challenge.

Hard work and commitment.

Love.

They rode side by side now, silent, each overwhelmed with the enormity of the step they’d taken, the pleasure-no, the bliss-of the night before and the knowledge that this was the beginning of their life together.

They emerged from the woodlands to the open pastures. Here the horses could have their heads, taking the gentle rise at a gallop. Finally they reached the summit, where the land swept down again deep into a valley before rising to the Alps beyond.

They reined in their horses and turned to look back the way they’d come.

From here they could see the castle, vast and regal in the soft, dawn light. They could see the village, and the scar of raw earth above it. But from here they could also see the mass of green, the blanket planting of trees that was the first of many such undertakings.

This country would grow now, and flourish.

As would their marriage.

Rafael leaned across and took Kelly’s hand. The horses edged together, as if sensing they were part of this partnership, part of this loving.

‘We’ve done it,’ Rafael said softly as the first rays of the sun appeared over the distant Alps, casting a golden hue over the entire landscape. ‘We can’t go back now, my love.’

‘No,’ she whispered and she trusted Cher enough to put both her arms around her husband, hold him close and raise her face to be kissed. ‘Why would we want to?’ she asked unsteadily when he finally, reluctantly, released her. ‘We have a country to rebuild. We have a family to love. We have each other.’

‘Do you think that’s enough?’ he asked, his eyes wicked with laughter and desire and happiness.

‘Not quite,’ she said, leaning against him and soaking in the first rays of the golden sun. ‘I believe I have a bus to build as well.’

‘What about a gold-mine or two to dig?’

‘Maybe that too,’ she said serenely. ‘And a library to catalogue.’

‘Just as well we have a lifetime,’ Rafael said with satisfaction and kissed her again, so deeply she felt herself melt in a pool of white-hot desire. ‘So much to do, my love, and so much loving to fit in along the way.’ He released her again with reluctance, and twisted on Nero to tug blankets free from his saddle-bags. He smiled across at her as he tossed them down on the lush pasture, his smile wicked and wanton and filled with pure, unadulterated lust.

‘Maybe we should start now,’ he said softly. ‘For I doubt if a lifetime is long enough.’