A Bride for His Majesty s Pleasure

They had reached the long drive to the castle now, and the trees that bordered it were so heavy with snow that their branches swept right down to the ground.

The light had started to fade, and one by one the lights were coming on in the castle, to cast a warming welcoming glow from the windows. In the courtyard people were waiting for them, eager hands opening the car doors, familiar voices exclaiming proudly, ‘Your Highness.’

Retainers she remembered as formidable adults not afraid to chide an over-active child were now bowing and curtsying low to her.

Impulsively Ionanthe reached out to take hold of the arms of the cook, remonstrating with her. ‘No, Ariadne, please. There is no need.’

‘Hah, I see you still hold the same republican views as your mother,’ the elderly woman snapped sharply. ‘Well, there are those of us who still respect our Sovereign, and if we want to show that respect then we shall.’

Max was hard put to it not to laugh. The small red-cheeked woman reminded him very much of a Greek cook his parents had once employed. She had run the whole household, and Max suspected that this woman did the same.

‘So you’re a republican at heart, are you?’ He couldn’t resist teasing Ionanthe as they were ushered inside.

‘Ariadne likes to think so,’ was all Ionanthe would allow herself to say.

The great hall was ablaze with lights, a fire roaring in the large fireplace, although Max suspected that it was the radiators that in reality kept the double-height room so warm.

The room’s heat made Ionanthe frown and say accusingly to Ariadne, ‘You’ve got the heating on.’

‘Of course. You don’t think we’d allow our Prince to freeze to death, do you?’

Ionanthe’s lips compressed. She knew how much wood it took to warm the great hall, and what backbreaking labour it was to provide that wood.

‘I don’t want you using a whole winter’s supply of logs to keep the castle warm just because we’re here,’ she told Ariadne.

When they got back to the royal palace she must make arrangements, somehow, for extra supplies of wood to be delivered to the castle, to replace that which would be burned keeping the place warm for them, she decided.

‘You needn’t worry about that,’ Ariadne assured her. ‘Pieter has turned off all the radiators except those down here and in the drawing room—and in the state bedroom, of course. Made up the bed with that special linen your mother liked so much, Magda has.’

As the full meaning of Ariadne’s words sank into Ionanthe’s head, a trill of horror shot through her. ‘You’ve put us both in the state bedroom?’ she demanded.

‘Well, of course I have. Where else would you sleep?’ Ariadne demanded. ‘Decorated especially for His Highness’s great-grandfather, that room was.’

Ionanthe didn’t dare look at Max.

‘I suppose you’ll be wanting Pieter and the men to go out and bring you a Christmas tree in? Wouldn’t be a proper Christmas without one, after all. It’s time we had you here for Christmas. A place isn’t a proper home without family in it.’

Ionanthe listened to the older woman with growing dismay as she realised that Ariadne thought they were here for Christmas. Ariadne was attempting to sound disapproving, but Ionanthe could see how pleased she was. She hated having to disappoint her, but she would have to put her right and correct her misapprehension.

‘Ariadne, this is only a brief visit—’ she began. But to her astonishment Max put his hand on her arm and shook his head.

‘What the Princess means, Ariadne, is that we are unable to stay as long as we’d like.’

‘Well, as to that, it’s the mountains that says how long a person stays. You should know that,’ she reminded Ionanthe. ‘You’ve been snowed in here often enough, after all. I remember the year that sister of yours kicked up such a fuss because she couldn’t go to some party or other. Chasing after some boy, I expect, and in no mind to be stopped. Always spoiled, she was. The old Baron could never see her for what she really was. Always did favour shine over substance, he did. More fool him.’

Ionanthe shot a quick look at Max, wondering how he was reacting to Ariadne’s criticism of Eloise, but it was impossible to guess his thoughts from his expression.

Ariadne hadn’t finished. ‘You’ll find this one a different kettle of fish from the other,’ she informed Max bluntly. ‘You’ve got the better bargain with her.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Max agreed, keeping his face straight.

‘I am right. Watched them both growing up, I did. That Eloise always did think too well of herself and not well enough of others. Of course this one’s just the opposite—always putting others first. What you want, my girl, is a nursery full of little ones to keep you busy.’

Ariadne might be speaking to her, but she was looking at Max, Ionanthe recognised, with a roguish glint in her small currant-dark eyes. She’d even put her head on one side, as though inviting Max to agree with her.

CHAPTER TEN

‘BEFORE you complain, let me remind you that none of this is my fault. I didn’t ask you to come here with me,’ Ionanthe told Max sharply.