Robyn Donald - The Royal House of Niroli - Innocent Mistresses

‘Thank you.’ Carrie’s first impulse had been to offer help, and now she knew there was no smoke or excessive heat to endanger her baby there was nothing to stop her.

‘There’s a lot of mess inside,’ the man called after her. ‘One of the firemen told me the kitchen won’t be fit for use for some time.’

All the more reason for her to hurry, Carrie thought. She could only imagine how the owners of the hotel must feel. It would be hard enough trying to make a profit out of such a small concern without a disaster like this making things harder.

The first thing she saw was her small suitcase standing on its own in the hallway. Of course, all the other guests had gone, though there were plenty of people hurrying about trying to salvage what they could.

She followed the unpleasant stench of smothered fire to the rear of the building where she found more members of staff busily cleaning up, and there was an older woman on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor.

‘Please, let me do that,’ Carrie insisted. ‘You’ve got enough to worry about.’ Her heart went out to the older woman, whom she guessed had probably lost her livelihood that day. Her sleeves were rolled up, and her hands and arms were covered to the elbows in grime. ‘If there’s anything I can do for you.’

As the woman glanced up and smiled a weary smile Carrie knew kind words weren’t enough, and with her permission she took the bucket of filthy water and emptied it in the yard. Swilling the bucket, she filled it with clean water and returned inside.

‘Thank you,’ the woman said, struggling to her feet.

‘Please don’t thank me. I’m happy to help …’ Searching under the sink, Carrie found some detergent, but by the time she turned around the woman had gone. There was a lot to do, she reasoned.

Kneeling on a towel, she concentrated on finishing the job. The hotel fell silent as she worked, and the more she thought about it, the more certain Carrie became that the woman she had taken over from must own the hotel. She had worn the wounded expression of someone who had just seen her dream go up in smoke, which was probably why she felt a certain kinship with her, Carrie thought wryly, redoubling her efforts.

Straightening up at last, she clutched her back, knowing the effort had been worthwhile. The kitchen floor was sparkling again and it smelt fresh and clean.

‘What on earth are you doing here?’

She nearly jumped out of her skin ‘Nico?’ Nico, angry? Nico, furious? But why? What was he doing here?

‘I was assured that all the guests had been evacuated.’

‘All, except one,’ Carrie pointed out, refusing to be intimidated. ‘What are you doing here, Nico?’ she added, thinking him the last man on earth she had been expecting to walk into the hotel kitchen.

‘You shouldn’t be cleaning floors,’ he said, shocked to see her … concerned for her safety, but he couldn’t tell her that without putting ideas in her head.

‘Thank you would be enough,’ she assured him mildly. ‘I don’t know why you are so angry.’

‘Did someone tell you to do that?’

‘I’m quite capable of working on my own initiative.’

Carrie was surprised to see a tug at one corner of Nico’s mouth. Had he found a sense of humour? Her rebellious body thrilled at the thought, though she stamped on it quickly.

‘And how do you think you’re going to get to the replacement hotel where all the other guests are staying?’ he demanded, reminding her not to soften.

‘I’ll walk, or catch a taxi—’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

They both turned as the older woman who had been scrubbing the kitchen floor before Carrie’s arrival walked back into the room.

‘Mother!’

Mother? Carrie could only stare in amazement at the older woman whom she knew now must be Princess Laura of Niroli.

‘You’ll do no such thing. Nico. You will take this young lady to the palace where she is going to be my guest. I insist,’ she said, holding up one beautifully manicured hand. ‘You knew you’d find me here,’ Princess Laura observed fondly to Nico. ‘This hotel was his father’s wedding gift to me,’ she explained to Carrie. ‘To keep me out of mischief,’ she added with a twinkle. And then, touching Nico’s granite cheek with great tenderness, she whispered, ‘Always so thoughtful, my Nico.’

As Carrie watched the brief exchange she wondered if Nico had a doppelgänger. His mother was certainly referring to a different man from the one she knew.

Swallowing back her amazement, she faced facts: the kindly woman standing in front of her was the grandmother of her baby. And Princess Laura had just asked her to stay at the palace. It was incredible. Unbelievable.

Conscious that she was staring rudely at Princess Laura, Carrie turned away, but not before her cheeks had reddened with suppressed emotion.

‘We make a fine pair of cleaning ladies, don’t you agree, Nico?’ Princess Laura said.

‘Without question, Your Royal Highness,’ her son replied stiffly.

‘No titles here, Nico,’ Princess Laura insisted. ‘And you can call me Laura,’ she assured Carrie with the warmest of smiles.

‘And I’m Carrie … Carrie Evans,’ Carrie told her, starting to relax, though she guessed that his mother’s approval didn’t sit well with Nico.

‘I think I saw you earlier, walking across the courtyard,’ the princess observed. ‘Don’t look so worried—you weren’t doing anything wrong. That’s better,’ she exclaimed, patting Carrie’s cheek. ‘I like to see you smile … Nico,’ she added, ‘please arrange for this young lady’s luggage to be sent on to the palace. Carrie will be travelling with me, in my car….’

Carrie was still reeling from sweeping into the courtyard in an official limousine at the side of Her Royal Highness Princess Laura of Niroli, but she had never seen anything to compare with her suite of rooms at the palace. The main bedroom was like something from a fairy tale. White muslin billowed at the windows, and the vast four-poster bed was draped with ivory silk hangings. The cover on the bed was an exquisite testament of the quilt-maker’s art. Intricately embroidered, it was delicately over-beaded in a ribbon design and the crisp white sheets and pillowcases peeping over the edge were finished with a froth of the finest lace.

Even the dressing table wore an elaborate skirt, Carrie noticed as the maid showed her round, and if the room wasn’t quite to her taste it made her smile to think that such frivolity dared to raise its head in an increasingly uniform world. But this was the world of Niroli, Carrie reminded herself, where anything was possible, though it was hard to find a natural link between Nico and his mother, Princess Laura. The princess was so kind and warm, while Nico possessed none of his mother’s ease of manner.

Nico … it always came back to Nico. Carrie’s heart squeezed tight at the thought of seeing him again, something she could hardly avoid now she was staying at the palace. To try and calm herself she began to examine everything in the lovely room. Sunlight spilled through slatted blinds, and a fan whirred lazily overhead spreading the scent of lavender and rose water into the air. It was such a cosy room in spite of its size. It was a room where anyone could feel happy … unless they were looking forward to a confrontation some time later with Nico, of course.

The bathroom was another delight. There was pink Carrera marble on the walls, and a bath as big as a plunge pool. The ceiling was vaulted and lit with stained glass skylights, and there were enough luxury products on the shelves to start a small shop. The princess had insisted she must try everything, and had explained that luxury goods suppliers from all over the world showered the palace with gifts in the hope of gaining the prestigious royal warrant. Apparently Carrie would only be doing her a favour if she sampled them….