The Royal House of Niroli: Innocent Mistresses: Expecting His Royal Baby / The Prince's Forbidden Virgin. Robyn Donald

There were winding paths and woodland glades as well as the more formal gardens. And then, of course, there was the lake and the pavilion … The grounds of the palace went on and on, and she was glad she had brought a pad and pencil so she could make a start with some preliminary sketches.

      Slipping off her sandals, she ran across the cool, spiky grass towards the lake. But she drew to a halt long before she reached the water’s edge. Nico was there with Anastasia, and the princess looked so beautiful. She was wearing a slim sheath in brightly coloured patterned silk that hugged her slender body like a second skin, and high-heeled shoes, which Nico was making her take off before allowing her to step into the rowing boat. And now Anastasia was laughing and holding on to his arm as she slipped off the first shoe. When both shoes had been removed Anastasia secured a large-brimmed straw hat to her head and then looked up expectantly at Nico.

      Nico didn’t respond, he was gazing away across the lake, Carrie noticed, and seemed distracted, and then very slowly he turned towards her.

      He stared at her. Nico stared straight at her. It was as if they had an invisible bond between them. But then the princess, unused to losing anyone’s attention for even a moment, took hold of his sleeve and gave it a little shake. Nico turned back to her, and with a gracious smile and a nod he offered Anastasia a steadying hand as she prepared to board the small boat.

      They made a perfect pair, Carrie thought. They were both so good-looking, so confident. They made her feel shabby and insignificant by comparison. For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to run back to the palace, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot, forcing her to watch Nico as he climbed into the small craft. He stood with his legs planted firmly to steady it, as Anastasia settled herself in front of him. Anastasia laughed as he cast off, and the sound carried across the silver water like a well-bred reminder of Carrie’s place in life.

      Hardly knowing she was doing it, Carrie narrowed her eyes to study the perspective. There was nothing more romantic than watching a man putting his back into a stroke. She gave a little smile as Nico pulled away from the small jetty, and was on the point of returning to the palace when she heard Anastasia calling to her. She certainly had no intention of slinking away. Turning, she smiled and raised her hand to wave.

      ‘Oh, look, darling … it’s that little girl from your office. Doesn’t she look quaint in that sweet little dress? Good morning, dear …’

      As the princess trilled her greeting Carrie’s jaw firmed. An air rifle and a few well-placed shots below the water-line of the little boat might not have gone amiss … Failing that, a reef, though no doubt Nico would negotiate it safely.

      But as the boat pulled away and they both lost interest in her Carrie felt stupid and gauche, and the market-stall dress that had been such a life saver in the heat seemed suddenly dull in comparison to Anastasia’s glamorous designer outfit. Then Nico turned as if to check that she had gone, and the look he gave her suggested he knew how she felt about his beautiful companion.

      He could think what he liked; she was going to stand and take in every detail. It was more fuel for her paintings.

      As Nico increased his stroke the chalky pink scarf the princess wore around her neck floated out behind her. It finished the picture and made Carrie long to paint the scene.the swarthy hero with his shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbow, exposing his powerful forearms, the wide spread of Nico’s shoulders and the flex of his muscles as he drove his oar through the water. The tension in his legs beneath his jeans.

      In fact, Carrie thought mischievously, she would be quite happy to leave Anastasia out of it. It would make a much better painting, she concluded, turning away.

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      AS SHE prepared for dinner that night Carrie was excited and apprehensive in equal measure. She was also doubly determined not to let Princess Laura down. She fully intended to look her best. But when the maid went to collect her dress they discovered that a calamity had occurred.

      The first Carrie knew of it was a distraught cry that brought her running into the dressing room. ‘Are you all right?’ she said anxiously, drawing the girl into her arms when she saw how upset she was.

      ‘Your dress … the beautiful gown … I can’t find it.’

      ‘But it can’t have disappeared,’ Carrie said sensibly. ‘Come on, let’s look for it together. We’ll soon find it. You start at one end of the rail and I’ll start at the other …’

      But as they searched Carrie’s confidence began to falter. She flicked determinedly through the press of garments a second time. There were so many gowns to search through. If there was one thing she had learned it was that Princess Laura didn’t do anything by halves. Once the dressmakers had taken her measurements they must have been sewing non-stop. But there was only one special gown for tonight, and it was nowhere to be found.

      She hid her feelings from the maid, but she had lost more than a gown, she had lost her chance to make Nico see her differently….

      ‘Maybe you could wear another dress, signorina?’ the maid suggested in desperation.

      Carrie’s concerns switched immediately to the young girl’s disappointment. ‘What a good idea. Let’s look for one together,’ she suggested, forcing a bright note into her voice.

      But there was nothing to compare with the matchless gown, and after a fruitless hunt the maid suggested checking all the other dressing rooms in the palace in case there had been a mix up of some sort.

      ‘Whatever’s happened to the gown it’s not worth crying about,’ Carrie assured her. ‘And it’s too late to start searching the palace,’ she pointed out logically. With the maid on the verge of tears again she had to be practical, but it wasn’t easy when the loss of the dress was such a bitter blow.

      ‘Please, let me go and look for it, signorina,’ the maid pleaded with her. ‘You never know, I might find it.’

      ‘All right, but I don’t want you to worry if you don’t. This isn’t your fault. While you’re gone, I’ll have another look through the wardrobe. I’m sure I’ll find something else to wear.’

      Carrie picked out several formal dresses and then discarded them again for various reasons. Some of the neck-lines plunged to the waist, which with her voluptuous figure was hardly prudent, and others had slits almost to the crotch. All the shoes seemed to have spindly heels, and she dreaded wearing them, but time was marching on and there was still no sign of the maid returning.

      Carrie glanced out of the window and her throat dried as she caught sight of the stream of limousines rolling in procession along the road towards the palace. Their passengers would be ambassadors and billionaires, and enough European royalty to fill the pages of a celebrity magazine. Princess Laura had wanted to prepare her for this, and had wanted her to feel comfortable in such elevated company, and now everything had gone wrong. She glanced at the door, she couldn’t wait for the maid any longer. She wouldn’t risk being late for Princess Laura. She would just have to choose something else to wear….

      But now Carrie made another worrying discovery—everything in the wardrobe was at least one size too small. It didn’t make sense. Princess Laura’s dressmakers had been so thorough and precise with their measurements and she found it hard to believe they would have made such an elementary mistake. She began to suspect someone had done this on purpose to humiliate her.

      Returning to the wardrobe, she selected a beaded sheath with an impressive fishtail train, for no better reason than it fell off the hanger at her feet and she took it for a sign. Now she just had to hope the Fates were on her side.

      Having shoehorned her way into the dress, Carrie found she couldn’t fasten all the tiny silk-covered buttons that ran up the back. Glancing at the clock, she grew increasingly anxious. For her to walk into the banqueting hall after the king had sat down was an unimaginable breach of etiquette, and she had no intention of embarrassing Princess Laura.

      So where was the maid? Had she been hijacked along the way? Carrie was beginning to think that