Marion Lennox - Wanted - Royal Wife and Mother

‘Pull,’ he ordered again and there was nothing to do but obey. And he came. He emerged into daylight with a savage groan, sliding out on to the floor of the trench and lying there, gasping for breath.

Kelly was in there, scrambling through the mud, on her knees, touching his face, scarcely able to breathe.

‘Rafael.’

‘Kell…’ he gasped as she wiped mud from his eyes with her shirt, as she wept. ‘Our magnificent Princess Kellyn. Of course. A mine manager. I knew you’d make a magnificent princess.’

And then he passed out.

R AFAEL’Sshoulder was dislocated. His leg was badly gashed. He’d be okay.

Officialdom took over. The little village had a very competent doctor and two efficient nurses. They carried him into the nearest intact house, put his shoulder back into place, stitched his leg, cleaned him up as much as they could and then ordered bedrest.

‘When I’m back at the castle,’ Rafael growled.

Kelly and Matty had been relegated to the background. They’d sat at the kitchen table while the women of the house plied them with soup and towels and as much comfort as they could. But Kelly’s hands didn’t stop shaking. She was holding Matty and she was aware that he was trembling as well.

He needed his nursery, she thought. He needed Marguerite and Ellen and Laura. He was clinging to her; she was his mama, but he needed the familiarity of home to ground him.

Home. The castle. The royal palace of Alp de Ciel.

They couldn’t get a car there. ‘But I’m thinking a horse and cart,’ the doctor said.

‘I’ll ride,’ Rafael countered, but the doctor looked at him as if he were crazy.

‘A horse and cart it is,’ Kelly said, and thus half an hour later the royal family made its way in somewhat less than royal state-a sturdy carthorse leading the way, tugging a small haycart. The haycart was filled with mattresses and pillows. Rafael complained every inch of the way but he had a nurse who looked like Brunhilda the Great by his side, there were two burly farmers leading the horse and clearing rocks from their path as they went, and he had no choice but to submit.

Kelly brought up the rear, riding her lovely mare. Matty, whose bravado had disappeared about the time Rafael had been declared safe, had crumpled into a little boy again. He was cradled before her, almost a part of her, clinging as close as he could get. His own horse and Rafael’s stallion were being led behind.

It was like a scene from hundreds of years ago, Kelly thought, dazed. A wounded prince returning from battle, his lady following behind.

Rafael’s lady…

For that was what she was, she thought wearily as she followed the steady hoof-beats before her. Rafael’s lady. Some time in the last few dreadful hours that was what she’d become.

Princess to Rafael’s Prince.

Princess to this country.

‘I thought you couldn’t ride,’ Matty whispered. Some time this dreadful day his allegiance had shifted as well. She was suddenly his mother. Yes, she’d always been that, but in his eyes she’d also been one of many people who’d flitted through his five years. Laura and Crater had been caught up at the hospital. Without his aunt, he’d needed someone to hold him, and that someone was his mother.

‘I can ride,’ she whispered into his hair. ‘I chose not to because I was fearful of taking risks. But today…I think risks are something to be faced with courage. Not stupid risks, but those risks that need to be faced. Like being a part of this royal family.’

‘You want to be royal?’ He twisted a little, trying to see her face. ‘But you can’t be royal if you live in an attic.’

‘Maybe it’s time I came out of my attic,’ she whispered. ‘Maybe it’s time I started to live. Maybe…maybe I need to think about putting on that dress.’

The nurse and the housekeeper whisked Rafael away as soon as they arrived at the castle. Ellen and Marguerite clucked over Kelly and Matty in concern. They were washed. Their bruises and scratches were anointed with care. Kelly tucked a cleaned and fed Matty into bed and watched him close his eyes before he even reached the pillows.

She was exhausted but there was no way she was heading for her bed. She made her way though the vast passages to the north tower-the tower where the ruling prince had his suite of private apartments.

When Rafael had arrived here after Kass’s death he’d been horrified to find he was expected to use them. Crater had told her that, but he’d also told her, ‘Prince Rafael has accepted he’ll do what needs to be done. He can’t be a part-time prince.’

So he was ensconced in state. She, however, was dressed in her jeans again, clean but faded. She needed to do something about her clothes, she thought.

Tomorrow. It was hardly the time for royal gowns tonight.

But for now…

Rafael.

She stood at the vast oak doors leading into his suite and felt almost shy. She’d never been in these rooms. By the time Kass had brought her to the castle he’d long since stopped wanting her.

Such memories…They were of a different person, she thought. A child bride. A girl who’d fallen in love with royalty before she knew what it was.

She knew what it was now. She also knew that as soon as she opened this door there’d be no going back.

She’d turned her back on royalty once before. Yes, it had been Kass who’d shunned her, but if there’d been a choice…Yes, she would have fled. She would have taken her small son with her but still she would have fled.

Rafael was right through this door. Rafael, who had almost as much call as she to hate royalty but who’d accepted his responsibilities; his duty.

Anna would go on with the merchandising of his toys, Kelly thought. Rafael would still be able to develop them, but his life had changed. The wealthy Manhattan bachelor had accepted his heritage.

This wasn’t her heritage, but she loved Matty and because she loved Matty she’d come back to the castle.

And because she loved Rafael, she’d stay.

All she had to do was tell him.

Such a little thing.

It was so hard to open the door.

‘Open the door or go back to your attics,’ she told herself sternly. ‘Go on, Kelly. You can do it.’

‘Princess Kelly,’ she whispered back to herself. ‘Princess Kellyn Marie de Boutaine. Open the door, stupid.’

His bed was enormous-the size of a small room! The four-poster bed was hung with acres of rich velvet curtains tied back with vast gold ropes and tassels. The eiderdowns were in matching crimson and purple and gold, as were the mountains of pillows at the end of the bed.

For a moment she couldn’t see that anyone was in the bed.

‘Kelly?’ a loved voice said and she stilled.

‘H-Hi. If you want to sleep I can come back later.’

‘You’re here,’ he said in sleepy satisfaction. ‘They’ve given me painkillers. They’re making me woozy. Tell me I’m not dreaming. Tell me we got all those kids out and you’re here.’

She crossed to the bed in a little run, and then stopped short-absurdly self-conscious.

‘We got every single kid out,’ she said unsteadily. ‘And the schoolteacher. And you. Rafael, you might have been killed.’

‘We got ’em out,’ he said in sleepy satisfaction and his hand came out and caught her wrist and held. Hard. ‘What’s the final toll?’

‘Six,’ she whispered. ‘All elderly people who couldn’t get out of the way fast enough-the slip made a huge noise on the way down and most people were outside anyway.’

‘Injuries?’

‘None life-threatening. We’ve been lucky.’

‘And elsewhere?’ His voice was hoarse with worry. Kelly sank into the chair beside the bed, put her hand up to his face and traced his cheekbone with her finger.