‘Who…who’s there?’

‘I’m here,’ Max said gruffly, trying to make his voice sound normal. ‘I was just…’

‘Max was giving me a cuddle,’ Pippa said. ‘Did you hear us? Did we scare you?’

‘No.’ He faltered, looking towards the bed. Max flicked on the bedside lamp, thanking his lucky stars that Marc hadn’t waited for another five minutes. For if he had…

‘Where’s Dolores?’ Marc whispered and the night stilled. ‘I woke up and you weren’t with us. And I thought about Dolores. Where’s Dolores? I was just…scared.’

‘She’s dead, Marc,’ Pippa said, hugging him close. She was stooped to his level, hugging him against her, and the sight was enough to make Max feel…feel…Hell, he didn’t know what he felt. He’d spent his whole life avoiding relationships and now here he was, in the midst of so many relationships he didn’t know where to start.

But Pippa seemed too choked up to talk. The responsibility was suddenly his. ‘Dolores died peacefully in her sleep,’ he told Marc, and Marc looked over Pippa’s shoulder and met his gaze head-on. ‘That’s why I’m here hugging Pippa.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘Where is she?’ He gazed fearfully around the room, and Max thought, yes, Pippa had been right to speed the burial. Sometimes children needed to be involved in all things, but not this time. Not when Marc’s grief for his parents was still raw.

‘Pippa and I buried her,’ Max said.

‘Where?’

‘Just below these windows. Near the rose garden.’

‘In the moonlight,’ Pippa whispered. ‘And where the sun shines all day.’

Marc swallowed. ‘I should…I should have helped,’ He said and damn, Max was as close to crying as he’d been for years. This waif of a child was squaring his shoulders like a man. He was under no illusion that Marc would have used the spade if he’d had to.

‘You know, you can’t see the grave from here,’ he said, crossing to the windows and looking out. ‘It’s too dark. Would you like to come down and see what we’ve done?’

Marc considered. ‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘Please.’

‘You should be asleep,’ Pippa said ruefully, but Max shook his head.

‘No. He needs to see the grave. Will you come with me?’ He held out his hand to Marc.

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll come, too,’ Pippa said, but Max caught her shoulders and forced her to turn to him.

‘No,’ he said softly and he kissed her, softly, tenderly, as she needed to be kissed. ‘You’re dead tired, my love. You’ve cared for Dolores. You’ve cared for all of us. Now it’s time for the men of the family to take care of you. Marc, Dolores was Pippa’s dog for a long time, much longer than you or I have known her. She’s feeling very sad. And she’s tired. Will you tuck Pippa into bed while I fill hot water bottles?’

‘Okay,’ Marc said, cautious but game. ‘Pippa, you have to get into bed.’

‘But I-’

‘Don’t argue with us,’ Max said firmly. ‘We’re in charge. You know, Marc and I have some serious talking to do, too, and it’s a good time for us to do it now, when all the womenfolk are asleep. So, Pippa. Bed.’

‘Bed,’ said Marc.

She stared at them for a long moment. Prince Regent. Crown Prince. Her men, giving orders.

She smiled wearily at them both and she went to bed.

She didn’t sleep, but, safe under the covers, warmed by the fire and by the hot-water bottles Max had filled, she felt as at peace as she’d ever felt in her life.

Dolores’ death was a grief but not an overwhelming one. She’d known this was coming, and for it to happen in this way was a blessing. She knew it. And now…She’d thought she’d be bereft, but she wasn’t.

For things had changed. Max was no longer looking at her as if she was some sort of trap.

She was no longer alone.

She wasn’t sure of the whys or wherefores, but she let her thoughts drift where they willed, content to let tomorrow take care of itself. Somewhere downstairs Max was having a heart-to-heart talk with Marc. What about? Maybe she should be in on the conversation, but she trusted Max.

She trusted him with her life.

She rolled over and one of her hot-water bottles slid out on the floor. No matter. She didn’t need it.

But Max had given it to her. For some dumb reason it seemed important to retrieve.

She slid out from under the covers and groped in the darkness until she found it. She went to climb back into bed, but, almost as an afterthought, she crossed to the window.

And saw…

Max and Marc were on the seat she’d so recently vacated. They were talking steadily. Max’s arm was around Marc’s shoulders. She blinked.

And then she looked at the grave.

For she could see the grave now. No longer a darkened mound in a darkened garden, it was an oasis of light.

The boys-the men, she corrected herself-had brought out candles. They’d found tea-light candles, many candles.

There was a perimeter of candles around the grave. And then, among the roses, the candles spelled out letters.

DOLORES.

Where had they found so many candles?

No matter. She could see the colours of the roses, illuminated by the candles. She could almost imagine she could smell them. The grave looked wonderful

Beside the grave, Max and Marc spoke earnestly on.

She blinked and blinked again but she didn’t cry. The time for crying was over.

She hugged her hot-water bottle to her. Max wouldn’t come back to her this night, she knew. She didn’t need him to.

Tomorrow was just…tomorrow.

CHAPTER TEN

PIPPA woke and sun was streaming in the window. Her door was wide open, and the children were filing in.

They were dressed and washed and sparkling, the twins’ pigtails plaited, neat as pins, and full of importance.

Sophie was bearing a glass of orange juice.

Claire was carrying a plate of fruit.

Marc was balancing a tray holding toast, pots of jam and a tub of butter curls.

Max was bringing up the rear, carrying coffee.

‘Good morning,’ he said, and her heart felt as if it did a somersault. ‘Or almost good afternoon.’

She stared at the clock. Eleven!

‘We let you sleep in,’ Sophie said. ‘’Cos you were up in the night looking after Dolores.’

‘Oh, Sophie…’

‘I told them Dolores died,’ Marc said, matter-of-factly. ‘We’ve put more flowers on her grave. Sophie put pansies on and Claire chose pretty white flowers with yellow middles. They’ll die pretty soon but Max says we’ll all go for a drive later to a garden place. We’ll each choose what we want to plant on Dolores’ grave. And Max said we can light the candles every night for as long as we want.’

‘That’s…that’s lovely.’

‘But you need to get up,’ Claire said importantly. ‘’Cos we have a visitor.’

‘Who?’

‘Sort of a grandma,’ Sophie said and she giggled.

‘She says we can call her Grandma, anyway.’ Marc sounded a bit uncertain. ‘But she says only if you think it’s okay.’

‘Who is it?’ Pippa asked, intrigued.

‘My mother,’ Max said.

She blinked.

‘And she’s waiting for you to wheel her round the garden,’ He told the kids. ‘Use the ramp at the side door and don’t take her anywhere the wheelchair can get stuck.’

‘We won’t,’ Sophie said and dumped her orange juice and ran. Closely followed by Claire.

‘And I’m not going to be Crown Prince any more,’ Marc added, setting down his toast with care. ‘Max and me talked about it last night and we have a plan. It’s really good. But can I go and help wheeling? They might crash the wheelchair if I don’t.’

‘Go right ahead,’ Max said, placing his hand on the boy’s thin shoulder and giving him a squeeze of affection. ‘You’re a kid in a million.’

Marc gave a self-conscious grin, smiled shyly up at his hero-and bolted.

Pippa was left with Max. She should feel shy too, she thought. She didn’t. She just felt…right.

‘How soon is soon enough to ask you to marry me?’ Max said, and her world stilled.

‘What did you say?’

‘You heard.’ He set down the coffee pot on the floor. ‘I was intending to wait until you’d eaten your toast, but you’re far too beautiful to leave hanging around for long. Someone else might snatch you.’

‘I have three kids,’ she said, trying hard to keep breathing. Her heart was doing really funny lurching things. ‘No one else wants to snatch me.’

‘More fool them,’ he said and sat on the bed and pulled her into his arms. ‘They don’t know what they’re missing. I have the most wonderful woman in the world in my arms right now. How fantastic is that? I can’t believe my luck and I’m waiting not a minute longer. You need to say you’ll marry me, my lovely Pippa. You must. Please?’

Her heart was singing, but somehow she found the strength to pull away. He released her with seeming reluctance, but he did let her go.

She pulled far enough back until she could see his face. ‘Max, why?’

‘I love you.’ He smiled, that lovely, lurking smile that had her heart doing hand springs. ‘As simple as that. As easy as that. All the conniving I’ve done-the figuring, the way I’ve tried to structure our lives-and in the end it comes down to this. I love you, Pippa, and I love you with all my heart. I want to be beside you for as long as we both shall live. Everything else has to come in after that. We’ll organise our lives. We’ll organise the Crown and the country. But we’ll organise these things around the most important thing in my life. Which is being with you.’

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She’d surely forgotten how to breathe.

‘Say you’ll marry me,’ he said, urgently. ‘Pippa, I’m not asking you to step away from the children. I know you love them to bits, and, believe it or not, I do too. I thought last night how could I walk away from Marc? There’s been so many things to think about. For the last few weeks it’s been crazy. First it was how I could accept that I was truly a de Gautier. Then could I walk away from this country? After that how could I walk away from you? And now there’s the kids, worming their way into my heart. I love them too, Pippa, I love this whole damned catastrophe. I want to marry the lot of you.’