But it seemed to do the trick. Matty relaxed into her arms and snuggled against her.
‘I just thought…I worried about Blaze. And the villagers… They used to come to see Papa when he was alive. Papa called them fools but Ellen said if Papa was a proper prince he’d listen to what they need and do something about it. I want to be a proper prince.’
‘You will be,’ Kelly said unsteadily. ‘Later. Not now. Not until you’re almost as high as Blaze.’
‘Uncle Rafael will take care of everything?’
‘Uncle Rafael will take care of everything,’ she said. ‘Now, I’m taking you back to bed.’
She tucked him into bed, and stayed with him until he was asleep. She decided she ought to go to bed herself, but when she looked out of the nursery window she saw Rafael.
He was sitting on one of the garden seats, staring out towards the Alps beyond. He was dressed in his royal regalia again. She wasn’t sure about the sword, but she could see braid on his shoulders.
A prince waiting to meet the townspeople.
What had he said?
‘We can do it together. You can take some of the pressure from me. If you’ll play the princess…’
She wasn’t about to play the princess. Once she had. Never again.
She should close the curtains.
She couldn’t.
Rafael had been asked to take on what she couldn’t. She couldn’t let him off the hook, but that didn’t stop her feeling guilty.
Matty was solidly asleep again. Marguerite was right next door. And Rafael looked…alone.
She glanced down at her clothing—jeans and baggy sweater.
It was hardly princess wear.
That was okay.
Not okay if she wanted to help.
Could she help?
Maybe she could, she thought. Just a little. After all, Rafael was in a relationship with his Anna. He was no threat to her. To hide up here like a hermit… Maybe it was even silly.
But what to wear…
She bit her lip.
‘Go on, Kelly,’ she told herself, whispering into the night. ‘You’ve been playing dress-ups for five years now. Maybe you can play dress-ups a little bit longer.’
Her rooms were just as she’d left them. Kelly turned the handle of the vast oak doors leading into the suite she’d stayed in five years ago and the sight of the dressing gown on the side table made her frown again. Why hadn’t it been thrown out?
But then… This suite was one of many and it was as far from Kass’s apartments as it was possible to be. If Kass had brought guests—women—here he’d want them a lot closer. For the staff to destroy her possessions would have taken a direct order and Kass must simply never have given the order.
The crib that had stood beside the bed for those few short weeks had gone. Otherwise it was exactly as she’d left it. Cleaned and cared for and ready for her to come home.
She wasn’t home. She had no place here.
Not true. She was Matty’s mother. And maybe it wouldn’t hurt to help.
She was being silly. Dumb. But just on the off chance…
She walked across to the vast bank of wardrobes and slid back the doors. And found what she’d half expected.
Here was her wardrobe. A wardrobe fit for a princess.
The first few weeks with Kass had been dreamlike. A royal fantasy. She’d been whisked to Paris, she’d been showered with every luxury, she’d been wooed with every one of Kass’s several charms.
He’d taken her shopping. Not the shopping normal people did, but shopping where he’d take her into the most expensive boutiques he could find, introduced her grandly as Kellyn, Princess of Alp de Ciel, settled himself into a settee, called for a drink and watched as she tried on one outfit after another.
For Kelly, who’d thought the epitome of fashion was her little red dress, it had been an eye-opener. For a while she’d thought it was fantastic.
And these were the legacy, left behind as Kass had forced her to leave. One designer gown after another. Dresses that had been so expensive their price tags had made her eyes water.
Ridiculous dresses.
She was here for a purpose. She had to do it fast or she’d lose courage.
She tugged a dress from the racks—an elegant black cocktail frock, tiny capped sleeves, a sweetheart neckline, a hemline that was too long for Kass’s taste but which the boutique owner had gasped over.
‘Oh, Your Highness, it makes you look just like Audrey Hepburn.’
Hardly, Kelly thought, but she grinned and held it up in front of her. She was the same size as six years ago. It wouldn’t hurt to dress up just a little.
Her shoes were still here. All her shoes. What about her jewellery?
Was she being really, really dumb? she demanded of herself as she pulled out the top drawer of her bureau.
Maybe she was, but Rafael was waiting.
The men were angry and impatient and barely civil. Rafael didn’t blame them. Their needs were urgent and they’d been ignored for too long.
‘We need to sit down and look at the whole situation,’ he said, but that was just what they didn’t want to hear.
‘You’re just like your cousin,’ one of the men snapped. ‘He didn’t care and neither do you. Do you realise the threat to the village…?’
‘He doesn’t realise it yet, but he will,’ a soft voice said from the doorway. ‘We both will.’
Rafael turned—and gasped.
He’d brought the men into the first of the salons just by the grand entrance. The room was vast and ornate, with magnificent settees gathered around a fireplace that was truly awesome. But outside in the entrance there were marble columns, a chandelier with so many crystals it must take an army to clean it, a truly magnificent entry.
Kelly was framed against it. A slip of a girl in a dress that was the epitome of elegance. It hugged her figure, showing off every lovely curve. Her hair was swept up into a knot that might be casual—wisps of curls were escaping—but it accentuated the simplicity of her dress. Her legs looked long and elegant, her black sandals made her feet look sooo sexy…
The whole outfit made her look sooo sexy. The eight men in the deputation were rising to their feet as one and Rafael did too.
‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ Kelly was murmuring as she crossed to Rafael’s side. ‘My son is a little unsettled after the flight and I needed to make sure he was asleep before I left.’
‘Princess…Kellyn?’ someone breathed and Rafael caught his breath and made the introductions.
Her outfit was brilliant, he thought as he watched the men’s reactions. She’d been described to the country as a slut. This outfit made her look anything but.
She rested her hand lightly on his arm. It wasn’t a proprietorial gesture. It was a gesture of solidarity.
‘You do need to give us a little time,’ she said softly, glancing up at Rafael and smiling, as if this was something they’d discussed in depth. ‘My husband has just died, and Prince Rafael has only just been able to bring me back here. Yes, there’s been major damage done to the country by royal neglect. But injustice has been done to Rafael and to me, as well as to you, his people. Prince Kass forbade me access to my son. He refused to