A Royal Marriage of Convenience. Marion Lennox

do I,’ she snapped. ‘Not for years. So we’re perfectly compatible. I’m willing to take a risk on the rest. What about you? Yes or no?’

      And there it was. Not a gun pointing at his head, but just possibly a chance to make a difference.

      Rose was waiting for him to come to a decision, her grey eyes calmly watchful.

      Erhard was waiting too. Two people he instinctively trusted who were trying to do good.

      So what was a man to say?

      ‘Yes,’ he said, and there was a moment’s stunned silence, and then they both beamed.

      ‘There it is, then,’ Rose said. ‘Proposal accepted. Congratulations to us all, and here comes pudding. Do you think I might have some more champagne?’

      CHAPTER THREE

      ROSE finished an excellent pudding, but it signalled that the night, for Rose at least, was over. She excused herself without waiting for coffee.

      ‘I was up before dawn, and I need to walk a bit before bed after all that champagne,’ she told them. ‘No, I don’t want company. I need head-space to plan the next few weeks. There’s so much I need to do. Finding someone to take care of a thousand square-miles of farm animals is the least of it.’

      ‘If there are no hitches then you can marry in four weeks,’ Erhard said. ‘Marrying in Alp de Montez is the wisest course. Can you be ready then?’

      ‘I’ll do my best,’ Rose said. She hesitated, and then she stooped and kissed the old man gently on the forehead. ‘You take care of yourself. Please. For me.’

      And she left without another word.

      Nick watched as she wove through the tables, smiling as a waiter paused to let her pass, smiling at the doorman as he opened the door for her, smiling as she went out into the night.

      ‘She’s some lady,’ Erhard said gently, and Nick came back to earth with a jolt.

      ‘Sorry. I was just thinking.’

      ‘She’s worth thinking about.’

      ‘I don’t…’

      ‘No, you don’t, do you?’ Erhard said. ‘I’ve had you thoroughly checked. The longest you’ve ever dated one woman is nine weeks.’

      That took him aback. ‘You know that?’

      ‘The investigative agency I hired is very thorough.’

      ‘So you know all about me.’

      ‘It wouldn’t have been worth my while to approach you if I’d found you were another Jacques. But the reputation you have in legal circles is for integrity. You try to select cases where there’s moral imperative, as well as financial. Also, the woman who fostered you since you were small—Ruby—says that you’re honest, kind and trustworthy. As a reference I thought that was the best.’

      ‘How the hell did you get Ruby to talk about me?’ he demanded, and Erhard gave a small smile.

      ‘The investigative agency has an operative who enjoys macramé,’ he confessed. ‘She infiltrated your foster mother’s macramé group.’ His smile broadened at Nick’s astonishment. ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures. Ruby seemed to be the best person to give a character reference, but she’d never have answered an official request with such honesty.

      ‘As it was, she told our operative that you went through eight foster homes as your mother agonised whether she could keep you. That you grieved for your mother, even though she was…impossible. That once you joined Ruby and her family of foster sons you were fiercely loyal to every one of the family members. That you learned early to be a loner, but you were generous to a fault. There’s an Australian children’s home—Castle, at Dolphin Bay?—that you contribute to in any way you can. That if any of your foster brothers are in trouble you’re there before they ask.’ His smile deepened. ‘I read the report and I thought, yes, you’ll do.’

      ‘Ruby’s macramé group.’ He was still feeling winded. Rose was out the door now, and the room was dreary for her going. Well, then. Erhard and his ‘operatives’ had to be good for something. ‘Rose?’ he queried. ‘What did you find out about Rose?’

      ‘I’ve told you most of it.’

      ‘Tell me again,’ he growled. He hadn’t listened properly the first time. He hadn’t been as interested as he was now.

      ‘She’s had it hard too,’ Erhard said gently, with only a faint smile to tell he’d guessed at Nick’s reactions. ‘Maybe almost as hard as you. Her mother had rheumatoid arthritis and couldn’t work, and after she left the palace Eric simply ignored both of them. Rose worked her way through vet school. She met and married a fellow student—Max McCray. Max was an older student—he’d missed schooling because of time spent recovering from cancer. Max was the only son of a veterinarian in the Yorkshire Dales. Rose was embraced into Max’s family, and when Rose and Max graduated they took over the family veterinary practice. Then the disease recurred. Rose cared for Max devotedly—as well as running the vet practice—until Max’s death two years ago. She’s running it still.’

      ‘But she’s agreed to leave.’

      ‘You know, I suspect there’s almost an element of relief,’ Erhard said honestly. ‘The village she’s been living in is tiny, and she’s very much Max’s widow. Everywhere we asked we were told how wonderful Rose is, and how noble it is of her to carry on her husband’s work. There’s a large veterinary conglomerate based in a nearby town that would buy them out in a flash, but her parents-in-law won’t hear of it. So she’s stuck dealing with lots of farm work—horses and cattle—which her father-in-law and husband loved, but it’s hard physical work for one so slight. There’s also been a huge money problem. Max’s illness put her in debt, and she’d borrowed to put herself through vet school. Max had no family money.’

      ‘You know…’ He hesitated. ‘This isn’t a standard private-investigative report, but the firm I use is good—very good. Their brief is to compile character assessments of people in line for top jobs, so they give more than facts. Our investigator talked to one of the nurses who cared for Rose’s husband. The nurse’s assessment is that Rose is stuck in her husband’s life.’

      ‘But she is leaving.’

      ‘We’ve given her a huge moral imperative to leave,’ Erhard said. ‘A whole country depending on her instead of just a village. She can walk away without Max’s ghost dragging her back.’

      ‘So you’re expecting me to walk away from my profession like you’re expecting Rose to?’

      ‘No one’s expecting anything of you,’ Erhard said patiently. ‘Apart from a few weeks of your time and a name on a marriage document. There’s no need for you to stay in Alp de Montez. There’s no need for your life to change very much at all. Simply take a few weeks off work, marry Rose, wait until the fuss about the succession has died down and then take over your life again. Yes, you’ll be part of the royal couple, but apart from the coronation itself—and the wedding—your attendance is optional. Your interest is optional, and when Rose’s position is established you can divorce. Rose seems willing to put in the hard yards.’

      ‘You said she’s working too hard as it is,’ Nick said, frowning.

      ‘I’ll take care of her,’ Erhard said. ‘She won’t be delivering calves in icy paddocks at midnight.’

      ‘That’s what she’s doing now?’

      ‘That’s what she’s doing. Living with her parents-in-law. Stuck in the grief of her husband’s loss.’

      There were so many facets of the woman, he thought. A cheeky imp. A beautiful, sophisticated woman. A magical dancer. A workhorse.

      ‘I guess I can,’ he said, and