To Marry a Prince (21 page)

‘But you don’t mind sharing a boat with her?’

‘She behaves herself on board. One of my fellow godchildren is a tough lady soldier who’d scalp her if she didn’t. Anyway, she genuinely loved our godfather. It’s been OK so far, anyway. Which is a relief, because we’d all be sad to sell the old girl. We’ve got used to her. I like it here.’

More than like, she thought, seeing him laze in the armchair with his long legs stretched out before him. You’re basking. You love this place.

It was gorgeous to see him looking so happy.

Suddenly, she knew the answer to the question that had tormented her last night. Lottie was right!

Bella pushed the cushions aside, slipped off the couch and knelt beside him with her arms round him.

‘I love you,’ she said.

‘Telling the Parents …’ –
Girl About Town

Richard didn’t seem to think it was quite the earth-shattering revelation that Bella did. He was very nice, of course – those beautiful manners again – and he kissed her as if he meant it. But he didn’t leap to his feet and beat his chest in jungle triumph. Nor did he seem very surprised, unlike Bella.

She was about to point this out when the damned timer went off and their supper was ready. Frustrated, she felt they had only had half the conversation. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But Richard didn’t seem to feel like that. Over food, they drifted away from declarations of love. He told her about a security officer he wasn’t keen on, the nightclub he’d been photographed in, the crazy diary of the next few days. Bella told him about Lottie’s idea of turning Neill into a Viking oarsman.

Richard snorted with laughter. ‘I know you said he needed to get out more. But rape and pillage seems to be taking it a bit far.’

‘Neill is not a natural pillager. They won’t corrupt him!’

She told him about her new job. ‘It’s my sort of charity, saving woodland and replacing trees. They want me to reorganise their admin system, which I can do standing on my head. But what they
really
want me to do is evaluate project proposals, drawing on my experience in the field.’

‘And that’s the bit that has got you excited,’ he said, seeing the glint in her eye.

Remembering the island and all the supplies that Francis was sure they could cope without until the next consignment arrived, Bella’s eyes narrowed to slits of pure venom. ‘Oh, yes. After ten months with the fragrant Francis, I can tell a waffler at fifty paces. They say things like “I’m a big-picture man”, and “I concentrate on objectives, not operational minutiae”. They think it’s a waste of their valuable energy actually to spend any time with the researchers on the ground. Francis always used to—’

‘Since you mention Francis—’

She flipped back to the present with a jump. ‘Yes?’

‘I haven’t asked before. But how close exactly were you? I mean, ten months on a tropical island …’

‘You mean, the moon, the stars, the virgin beach, the turquoise sea?’

‘Yes, I suppose I do.’ He didn’t look very happy about it.

Bella leaned across the table and put her hand over his. ‘They didn’t stand a chance. In London, I was starry-eyed about Francis, I admit it. He was the big cheese and he was very flattering to me and, well, he talked a good story.’

A look of amusement dawned. ‘Our Gallant Leader Syndrome?’

‘Exactly. Francis is big on Inspiration. As long as he’s doing the inspiring, of course.’

Richard choked.

‘His feet of clay showed the first day. The very first
day
. He was supposed to have organised chemical toilets to be brought in by sea. He forgot.’

‘Ah. Not a good move.’

‘After that, well, I can’t say the scales fell from my eyes. I mean, he still had the charisma. But, well, he didn’t quite seem so irresistible somehow. It just all wound down rather sadly.’

‘I’m not surprised. Nothing like propinquity and poor sanitation for showing a man in his true colours. So you didn’t … er …’

She shook her head. ‘We didn’t sleep together, no.’

‘I’m glad,’ he said simply.

‘So am I.’ She leaned back and watched him for a while. Then said ‘And what about your ex? Almost the first day I got back, I was reading that someone had dumped you.’

One of the nice things about Richard was that he didn’t shy away from the suggestion he’d been dumped. He nodded. ‘You mean Debs.’

Bella didn’t remember the woman’s name but she recited what she could remember of the article.

‘Yes, that would be Debs.’ He thought about it. ‘That’s not an easy one. At first, Debs was great. She never got uptight. Didn’t mind being on display.’

Bella winced. One in the eye for me, she thought.

Richard did not notice. ‘She even laughed at the photographers when they ran down the street after us. Used to joke with them. She was so relaxed. As you know, I’m not very. I was crazy about her.’

Bella sat very still. He was crazy about her. Well, of course, there was going to have been someone. Of course, there was. He was twenty-nine, not a kid. But she felt angry and resentful and hurt and she wanted to kick Debs so hard she disappeared off the planet. It took her a while but she worked it out in the end: she was jealous. It was stupid, but there it was.

Richard was oblivious, still wrestling with the problem of Debs who had dumped him

‘You know me, Bella. I’ve always been a bit dull. Never late for receptions. Read my briefing, remember it.’

Bella’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is this the genetic good behaviour myth again? The one you peddled before jumping my bones in the middle of a major reception?’

He had the grace to flush faintly, though he looked pleased at the same time. ‘That was rather out of character for me.’

‘Hmph.’

‘Even you have to admit that I don’t have a lot of pizazz. Debs had pizzazz.’

‘You dated her for her
pizzazz?
’ Bella was incredulous.

‘What can I tell you? I’m a man. I’m shallow!’

‘You’re also winding me up,’ said Bella, not deceived. ‘What really went wrong? If you want to tell me, of course,’ she added conscientiously.

Richard stopped grinning. ‘Have you heard of the
idea of the starter marriage? Well, that’s what I would have been for Debs. She probably didn’t know it, of course. But I watched what her friends did and she was on the same track. Big engagement party. Big,
big
wedding. Lots of gadding about and flirting with the cameras. And then the wife does her thing and the husband does his, and after a couple of years in the limelight they’re both ready to move on to someone else. I was so determined I didn’t want a dynastic marriage like my parents that it took me a while to see that there are other sorts of marriage that won’t do for me either. Debs’s sort, for instance.’

‘So she
didn’t
dump you?’

‘Yes and no. She did. But she wasn’t the woman for me and I knew it before she did. So I just went on not asking her to marry me until she got tired and gave me the push.’

‘I see.’

Bella said nothing more.

But later, when they were walking back to Lottie’s flat along the river, with the clouds scudding over Battersea Park, exposing and veiling a nibbled-cheese moon, she said thoughtfully, ‘You know, Debs probably did you a favour and Francis did the same for me – patronising twerp! In fact, when someone stops him buggering up perfectly good research projects, he will undoubtedly make himself a fortune as a motivational speaker.’

Richard stopped dead, flung back his head and roared with laughter.

‘You’re lethal,’ he said. ‘I love you too.’

And that was when Bella realised what she had been
waiting for. Not the jungle chest-beating, not the exclamations of delight and astonishment. The vow returned.

She thought: I’ve never felt so right before.

Not that it was dramatic or even very romantic. Richard gave her a quick hug, but said, ‘We’d better keep walking or you’ll get cold. There’s snow in the air, I think.’

So instead of wandering hand in hand under the London stars, they marched briskly up from the river along Chelsea Bridge Road, past the well-lit, fashionable shops of Pimlico Road, then Orange Square and Mozart’s statue, heading towards the flat.

Only there was display in a shop window that caught Bella’s eye. ‘What’s that?’

She went over to it. Richard did not resist following.

It was a Christmas special in an interior design shop. In the window there was a family of mechanical polar bears, rather good ones with liquorice allsort eyes and huge powerful feet, their slab heads nodding. There were four of them, a mother, father and two cubs, one batting the other back into line. It was kitsch but at the same time, immensely appealing.

Richard peered down at Bella. ‘Are you crying?’

‘I like the little ones,’ she said, in a muffled voice.

‘You
are
crying. You old softie.’

Bella sniffed unromantically. ‘Well, you said you loved me. I think it just caught up with me.’

He said in a shaken voice, ‘Oh, Bella, my darling. Don’t cry, my love. Don’t cry.’

And they did kiss then, properly. They stood in front
of the spotlit window and the first snowflakes drifted down and neither of them noticed.

People came out of the restaurant opposite, stopped, peered, then stared. They put their heads together, muttering. Then one of them brought out a phone and took a picture, took several. The group went off, bunched together to look at the tiny screen, chattering excitedly.

Bella and Richard didn’t notice that either.

Eventually, Richard raised his head and cupped her cheek in his gloved hand. He was breathing hard. Bella, dizzy and swaying, felt she would never remember how to breathe again.

‘Come on. Home.’

They ran back to the flat hand in hand.

Lottie looked up when they went into the sitting room. She was sitting on the sofa with her laptop on her knee. She looked uneasy.

‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Have a nice time?’

Bella nodded. ‘I got the job,’ she said in a voice that said her cup of happiness was running over.

Lottie seemed oddly distracted. ‘The job? Oh, the forest charity. Good for you. When do you start?’

‘Second of January they think. They’re sending me the contract tomorrow.’

‘Excellent.’ Lottie looked back at the screen. It kept beeping. ‘Um … where did you go tonight?’

‘We dined at home,’ said Bella, taking off her coat and twirling round happily.

But Richard was watching Lottie, a frown between his brows. ‘Something wrong?’

‘That depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On whether you two want to go public.’

Bella stopped twirling. ‘What? Why?’

‘You’re on Twitter,’ said Lottie brutally. ‘You know how fast these viral things go? I reckon global in fifteen or twenty minutes.’

Bella went cold. ‘No-o-o.’ It was a wail.

Richard kept his cool. ‘Someone saw us? Recognised us?’

‘They’re not sure.’ Lottie turned the laptop round and gave it to him. ‘See for yourself.’

He sat down on the sofa beside her and considered it gravely. ‘Ah, I see.’

There were three photos. Two of them could just have been any couple kissing. The third had Richard raising his head, three-quarter face to the camera. The back lighting of the polar bear window display gave the picture dramatic shadows. Unfortunately these only served to intensify his distinctive profile.

He sighed heavily. ‘My damned Coburg nose. There’s not much chance of convincing people there’s been a mistake, is there?’

‘Look at the tweets,’ Lottie suggested. ‘Plenty of doubters. You could always deny it.’ She stared hard at Bella. ‘Depends how much you’re prepared to lie.’

Richard read them fast. ‘Yes, I see,’ he said without expression. He looked up at Bella. ‘I think this one is your call, darling. Have a read, then tell me what you want to do.’ He stood up to make room for her.

She sat down and tried to focus on the messages. The
limit on characters meant that many were so compressed she couldn’t understand them. But others were clear enough. Diners in London had seen Prince Richard (or was it?) kissing an unknown blonde/local barmaid/Australian ladies’ golf champion/any one of several soap and movie stars.

‘Golf champion?’ said Bella, seizing on the one thing that didn’t matter.

Richard raked one hand through his hair. ‘I danced with her at a Sports Personality bash. The photo’s on my file, that’s all. I barely know the woman.’ He sighed. ‘I’d better check in with my office.’

He pulled out his phone and Bella realised that he must have had it switched off all evening. As soon as he turned it on, it rang. He looked at the caller’s name and sighed; then answered, with his usual dutiful calm.

‘Hello Monty … Yes, I’ve heard … No, I don’t think that’s necessary. I will work on a statement with you tomorrow …
Tomorrow
, Monty. You can come and see me at eight. I’ll even give you breakfast.’