A Bride for His Majesty s Pleasure

The large, comfortable kitchen was busy. A young woman whom Ionanthe vaguely recognised was whisking about, whilst two young children were seated at the table crayoning.

‘You’ll remember Marta, Gorge’s youngest,’ Ariadne informed Ionanthe, and the pretty young woman gave Ionanthe a shy smile. ‘Married to our Tomas, she is now, with two young ones of her own.’

Ionanthe returned the young woman’s smile.

‘I’m teaching my two their letters, Highness, just like you taught me mine. Ever so grateful to you and your mother we were, for telling our parents that we should have our schooling. I’ve told my Tomas that our girls are going to get their schooling no matter what.’

Ariadne, who was stirring a large pot on the stove, gave a derisory snort. ‘Soft as butter, Tomas is—not like fathers were in my day. Them parents of yours have a lot to answer for, filling folks’ heads with ideas above their station with all that talk of schooling and the like.’

‘Take no notice of Mam,’ Marta told Ionanthe cheerfully. ‘Proud as punch of our two girls, she is, and always telling them that they’ve got to pay attention to their lessons. Teachers is what I’d like them to be. But they’d have to go to the mainland for that, and that costs money.’

Watching Marta’s bright smile give way to uncertainty and anxiety, Ionanthe reached out towards her, telling her without thinking, ‘Don’t worry, Marta. The money will be there for them. I’m planning to set up a fund in my parents’ name, out of the money my grandfather left. It will provide scholarships for children like yours to get all the education they need.’

It was Ariadne who spoke first in the silence that followed Ionanthe’s impulsive declaration, saying triumphantly to her daughter-in-law, in whose eyes emotional tears were beginning to glisten, ‘There—you see. I told you our Princess would see to it that something was done. Not that you’ll have an easy time persuading some folk to send their children to school,’ Ariadne added darkly.

‘All the children of Fortenegro should have the right to a good education. It is my duty as Fortenegro’s ruler to ensure that they do.’

Max’s voice was firm and uncompromising, causing them all to look at him.

‘My wife is to be applauded for what she plans to do, but there must come a day when the children on this island receive their education as a right, not as a gift.’

Ionanthe couldn’t take her gaze from Max’s face. They might almost have been alone as her expression showed him how much his declaration meant to her.

‘Do you really mean that?’

‘Yes,’ he confirmed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘CONVINCING the barons and some of the community elders that no child should leave school before sixteen won’t be easy, never mind winning them round to the idea of Fortenegro having its own colleges and university,’ Ionanthe warned Max.

They were alone in the great hall, having just finished their dinner, and Ionanthe’s face was flushed with delight and the hope that Max really shared her belief that changes needed to be made, allowing the children of the island to receive the educational opportunities they were currently denied.

‘There will be opposition, I know,’ Max allowed.

‘A great deal of opposition,’ Ionanthe agreed.

She paused. The French diplomat’s comment about the licensing of coal mining was a spectre she desperately wanted to banish.

‘What you’re planning will be very expensive,’ she began hesitantly. ‘You will need to increase the island’s revenue to the Crown.’

‘I have several plans in mind for that,’ Max told her. Should he bring up the subject of the mineral reserves on her land? He wanted to do so. The realisation that she shared at least one of his plans, and the sense of being at one with her that had created over dinner, made him want to be open and honest with her. But now was perhaps not the time for a further potentially lengthy discussion.

The fire was burning low; Ionanthe was smothering a small yawn. There were more intimate ways in which he wanted to communicate with her right now; more personal bonds he wanted to forge with her.

‘You’re tired?’

Max’s words were a statement, not a question, and the smile which accompanied them made Ionanthe’s heart leap and flounder inside her chest.

‘Yes,’ she admitted.

‘We’ve travelled a long way today, sometimes over difficult and unfamiliar territory, but for my own part I have to say that the journey has been very worthwhile,’ Max told her, before emphasising softly, ‘Very worthwhile.’

Ionanthe looked at him and saw that she had been right to sense that he was not referring to their journey to the castle.

‘I agree,’ she responded, picking her words as carefully as she could.

From the smile Max was giving her, it had obviously been the response he wanted.