LITMIR.BIZ

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      CONTENTS

      PROLOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      PROLOGUE

      ‘WE HAVE no choice.’ Princess Charlotte de Gautier watched her son in concern from where she rested on her day-bed. Max was pacing the sitting room overlooking the Champs-Elysées. He’d been pacing for hours.

      ‘We must,’ Charlotte added bleakly. ‘It’s our responsibility.’

      ‘It’s not our responsibility. The royal family of Alp d’Estella has been rotten to the core for generations. We’re well rid of them.’

      ‘They’ve been corrupt,’ Charlotte agreed. ‘But now we have the chance to make amends.’

      ‘Amends? Until Crown Prince Bernard’s death I thought I had nothing to do with them. Our connection was finished. After all they’ve done to you…’

      ‘We’re not making amends to the royal family. We’re making amends to the people of Alp d’Estella.’

      ‘Alp d’Estella’s none of our business.’

      ‘That’s not true, Max. I’m telling you. It’s your birthright.’

      ‘It’s not my birthright,’ he snapped. ‘Regardless of what you say now. It should have been Thiérry’s birthright, but their corruption killed Thiérry as it came close to killing you. As far as anyone knows I’m the illegitimate son of the ex-wife of a dead prince. I can walk away. We both can.’

      Charlotte flinched. She should have braced herself earlier for this. She’d hoped so much that Crown Prince Bernard would have a son, but now he’d died, leaving…Max.

      Since he was fifteen Max had shouldered almost the entire burden of caring for her, and he’d done it brilliantly. But now…She’d tried her hardest to keep her second son out of the royal spot-light—out of the succession—but now it seemed there was no choice but to land at least the regency squarely on Max’s shoulders.

      Max did a few more turns. Finally he paused and stared down into the bustling Paris street. How could his mother ask this of him—or of herself for that matter? He had no doubt as to what this would mean to their lives. To put Charlotte in the limelight again, as the mother of the Prince Regent…

      ‘I do have a responsibility,’ Max said heavily. ‘It’s to you. To no one else.’

      ‘You know that’s not true. You have the fate of a country in your hands.’

      ‘That’s not fair.’

      ‘No,’ Charlotte whispered. ‘Life’s not.’

      He turned then. ‘I’m sorry. Hell, Mama, I didn’t mean…’

      ‘I know you didn’t. But this has to be faced.’

      ‘But you’ve given up so much to keep me out of the succession, and to calmly give in now…’

      ‘I’m not giving in. I admit nothing. I’ll take the secret of your birth to the grave. I shouldn’t have told you, but it seems…so needful that you take on the regency. And it may yet not happen at all. If this child can’t become the new Crown Prince…’

      ‘Then what? Will you want to tell the truth then?’

      ‘No,’ she said bluntly. ‘I will not let you take the Crown.’

      ‘But you’d let an unknown child take it.’

      ‘That’s what I mean,’ she said, almost eagerly. ‘He’s an unknown. With no history of hatred weighing him down…maybe it’s the only chance for our country.’

      ‘Our country?’

      ‘I still think of it as ours,’ she said heavily. ‘I might have been a child bride, but I learned early to love it as my own. I love the people. I love the language. I love everything about it. Except its rulers. That’s why…That’s why I need you to accept the regency. You can help this little prince. I know the politicians. I know the dangers and through you we can protect him. Max, all I know is that we must help him. If you don’t take on the regency then the politicians will take over. Things will get worse rather than better, and that’s surely saying something.’ She hesitated, but it had to be said. ‘The way I see it we have two choices. You accept the regency and we do our best to protect this child and protect the people of Alp d’Estella. Or we walk away and let the country self-destruct.’

      ‘And the third alternative?’ he asked harshly. ‘The truth?’

      ‘No. After all I’ve been through…You don’t want it and I couldn’t bear it.’

      ‘No,’ he agreed. ‘I’m sorry. Of course not.’

      ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘But what to do now? You tell me this boy’s an orphan? That doesn’t mean that he’s friendless. Who’s to say whoever’s caring for him will let him take it on?’

      ‘I’ve made initial enquiries. His registered guardian is a family friend—no relation at all. She’s twenty-eight and seems to have been landed with the boy when his parents were killed. This solution provides well for him. She may be delighted to get back to her own life.’

      ‘I guess it’s to provide well for him—to let him take on the Crown at such an age. With you beside him…’

      ‘In the background, Mama. From a distance. I can’t take anything else on, regardless of what you ask.’ Max shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his chinos and, turning, stared once more into the street. Accepting what he’d been thinking for the last hour. ‘Maybe he’ll be the first decent ruler the country’s had for centuries. He can hardly be worse than what’s come before. But you’re right. We can’t let him do it alone. I’ll remain caretaker ruler until this child turns twenty-one.’

      ‘You won’t live there?’

      ‘No. If there wasn’t this family connection stipulation to the regency then I’d never have been approached. But Charles Mevaille’s been here this morning—Charles must have been the last non-corrupt politician in the country before the Levouts made it impossible for him to stay. He’s shown me what desperately needs to be done to get the country working. The law’s convoluted but it seems, no matter who my father was, as half-brother to the last heir I can take on the regency. As Prince Regent I can put those steps into place from here.’

      ‘And the child…’

      ‘We’ll employ a great nanny. I’ll work hard on that, Mama. He’ll be brought up in the castle with everything he could wish for.’

      ‘But…’ Charlotte hugged Hannibal—her part poodle, part mongrel, all friend—as if she needed the comfort of Hannibal’s soft coat. As indeed she did. ‘This is dreadful,’ she whispered. ‘To put a child in this position…’

      ‘He’s an orphan, Mama,’ Max said heavily. ‘I have no idea what his circumstances are in Australia, but you’re right. Once Alp d’Estella’s run well then this may well be a glorious opportunity for him.’

      ‘To be wealthy?’ Charlotte whispered. ‘To be famous? Max, I thought I’d raised you better than that.’

      He turned back to face her then, contrite. ‘Of course you did. But as far as I can

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