The Virgin and His Majesty. Robyn Donald

his ancestors for centuries had its strongest adherents.

      Before Gerd could speak the older man had added, ‘But with respect, sir, you need a wife. Further celebrations—a formal betrothal followed by a wedding and the birth of an heir as soon as possible—would almost certainly put an end to any plotting. Your plans for higher education should mean that the old legend will never have the hold over future generations that it has in the past.’

      Gerd said grimly, ‘At least we don’t have to worry about further problems from MegaCorp.’

      He’d seen to that, using his power in the financial world to clinically and without mercy ruin the men who’d so cynically played with other men’s lives.

      He glanced down at the woman beside him, lovely and eminently desirable, her wide blue eyes anxiously uplifted. Concernwas in them and something else, something that disappeared so quickly he barely recognised it.

      Deep inside him a fierce instinct stirred. She was so young, but it wasn’t hero worship he’d caught in her gold-sprinkled eyes. If she was still longing for Kelt, it was a total waste of a life.

      And he suspected he could do something about it…

      Rosie could gather nothing from his impassive, gorgeous face. Repressing a quiver deep in the pit of her stomach, she demanded, ‘What do you mean, of course everything’s all right? I thought—’

      ‘Once the ringleaders of the insurrection were shown to be the pawns of a foreign company who wanted to take over the mines,’ he interrupted, ‘the fighting stopped. No one in Carathia wanted that.’

      ‘Of course they wouldn’t.’ The country’s prosperity was based to a large degree on carathite, a mineral necessary in electronics. ‘What happened to the people who started the rebellion?’

      Gerd looked ahead. A gleam from the setting sun caught his black head, summoning a lick of blue fire. For a few seconds Rosie allowed herself to examine his profile, hungrily taking in the bold, angular outline. A potent little thrill burnt through her. His mouth should have softened his features; instead, that top lip was buttressed by a firm lower one and the cleft square of his chin.

      He said calmly, ‘They are no longer in any position to cause further trouble.’

      This was Gerd as she’d never seen him before, his natural authority tinged with a ruthlessness that sent a chill scudding down her spine.

      He turned his head, and she flushed. His brows lifted slightly, but he said in a level voice, ‘Somehow I find it difficult to see you as an accountant.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘As a child you adored flowers. I always assumed you’d do something with them.’

      She gazed at him in astonishment. ‘I’m surprised you remember.’

      ‘I remember you being constantly scolded for picking flowers and arranging them,’ he said drily.

      ‘I grew out of that eventually. Well, I grew out of swiping them from the nearest garden! But actually, I’m seriously thinking of setting up in business as a florist as soon as I can.’

      He said thoughtfully, ‘You’ll need training, surely?’

      Briefly she detailed the experience she had, finishing, ‘I can run a shop. I have the financial knowledge, and I was left in sole charge often enough in my friend’s shop to know I can do it. I helped her with weddings, formal arrangements for exclusive dinner parties, the whole works. I can make a success of it.’

      ‘So how are you going to organise things financially?’

      She kept her gaze resolutely fixed in front, but from the corner of her eye she sensed him examining her face. ‘I’ll manage,’ she said coolly.

      ‘Alex?’

      ‘No.’ She hesitated, then said, ‘And before you ask, I’m not going to ask Kelt for backing, either.’

      ‘I refuse to believe your mother is happy about this.’

      He spoke neutrally, but she knew what he meant. ‘She’ll get used to it.’

      He said quietly, ‘You didn’t have much luck with your parents, did you.’ It wasn’t a question. ‘Your father didn’t live in the modern world.’

      ‘None of us had much luck,’ she returned, forcing a note of worldliness. ‘Yours died early—Alex’s mother too—and mine just weren’t interested in children. Still, we haven’t turned out badly. Perhaps that happy home life children are supposed to need so much is just a myth.’ She finished casually, ‘Like perfect love.’

      ‘Can you see Kelt and Hani together and believe either of those assumptions?’

      ‘No,’ she said instantly, ashamed of her cynicism. ‘They are the real thing.’

      Perhaps her envy showed in her voice because he asked rather distantly, ‘Is that what you’re looking for?’

      ‘Aren’t we all?’ she parried, wary now. She loosened fingers that had tightened on each other in her lap, and gazed resolutely at the streetscape outside. Perfect, eternal, all-absorbing romance was the elusive chimera her mother searched for, restlessly flitting from lover to lover, but never succeeding.

      Was Gerd hoping for that same eternal sense of fulfilment with Princess Serina?

      She could ask him, but the words refused to come, and the moment passed as the car turned into a narrow alley in the older part of the city.

      ‘Here we are,’ he said without emphasis.

      The vehicle drew up outside the heavy, ancient door of an equally ancient building. People turned to look when the security man, until then a silent presence beside the chauffeur, got out. A doorman moved across the pavement to open the car’s rear door.

      It was all done swiftly, discreetly, yet the smooth operation sent a chill down Rosie’s spine as she and Gerd went through the door and into the building. Her own life was so free, compared to Gerd’s.

      On the other hand, she thought with an effort at flippancy, she wasn’t rich enough to dine in places like this.

      As though he could read her mind, Gerd said, ‘This is the aristocratic quarter of town. In fact, right next door is the town house of the Dukes of Vamili.’

      Her brow wrinkled. ‘That’s Kelt’s title, isn’t it?’

      ‘Yes. It’s used for the second son of the ruler now, but before the title was taken over by our family the Duke of Vamili was the second-ranking man in the Grand Duchy, with almost regal power over about a third of Carathia. About two hundred years ago the then Duke led a rebellion against the Grand Duke, and died for his treachery. He had only one child, a daughter, who was married off to the second son of the Grand Duke. The Grand Duke then transferred the title and all the estates—to him.’

      ‘Poor woman,’ Rosie said crisply. ‘It doesn’t sound like a recipe for a happy marriage.’

      His smile was brief. ‘Strangely enough, it appears to have been. Of course, he might have been an excellent husband. And women, especially aristocratic women, of those days didn’t have such high expectations of marriage.’

      ‘Unlike modern women, who have the audacity to want happiness and fulfilment,’ Rosie returned sweetly, pacing up a wide sweep of shallow stairs.

      Gerd cocked an ironic brow. ‘Some seem to believe that both should come without any effort on their part.’

      Like my mother, Rosie thought sombrely. Chasing rainbows all her life…

      They were shown into a room that opened out through an arcade onto a stone terrace overlooking the great valley of Carathia.

      Rosie sighed in involuntary appreciation, walking across to grip the stone balustrade, still warm from the sun. ‘This is so beautiful, like a bowl half-filled