Crowned: The Palace Nanny (19 page)

‘I don't know what you mean,' Stefanos said.

‘Her work,' the man said impatiently, and then suddenly seemed to remember his manners. ‘David Hemming,' he said. ‘Professor of Marine Studies at…Well, never mind, it doesn't matter. All I know is that I've never seen such a generous act. She had all the research done. All the hard work. She was just starting to see the academic rewards and suddenly a letter arrives out of the blue saying she can no longer go on with her studies but she doesn't want her research wasted so here it is, take it and publish as you see fit, just take it forward. Well, I tell you there's at least eight international experts now who are international experts only because of Dr Langham's generosity.'

‘Dr Langham?'

‘We could never find her,' he said morosely. ‘Only then we started hearing about starfish research—really interesting stuff—and dammit, there she was, only she was calling herself Elsa Murdoch. But, just as we were finding out what she was doing, dammit if she didn't do exactly the same again. Package it all up and pass it on. No honours for her. Just good, solid research that'll mean species will survive that were otherwise facing extinction. And now…'

He'd been building up indignation, incense personified, and Stefanos got poked in the chest with a pencil. ‘And now
she's off again. But at least it's turtles this time. Kemp's Ridley, by what I hear, and you couldn't get a better woman working on them. You know what? She sees the big picture. Already she's contacting international institutions, trying to broaden our understanding. If she's found this breeding site there must be more. She'll use that to make them safe.'

‘How…?'

‘Pure energy,' he said, stabbing Stefanos again. ‘Only don't you let her give her work away this time. If she settles—if she's allowed to settle—then I'm guaranteeing those blessed turtles will be safe for a thousand years, such is the commitment she generates. So you might have seduced her to your island but you make sure she stays. Or I and half the marine academics in the world will want to know why not.'

And, with a final poke in the chest, he retired back to his notes.

Leaving Stefanos winded.

Stunned.

The vision of Elsa as he'd last seen her was still with him—beautiful, almost ethereal, a freckled imp with her glorious sun-blonded curls. With her face creasing from laughter to gravity, from teasing to earnestness, from joy to…love?

To loss.

If he'd met her when she was twenty, when life was simple, when she was free to fall in love, then maybe he'd have stood a chance. He knew that. For he'd looked into her eyes and what he saw there was a reflection of what he believed himself. That she was falling in love with him as deeply as he was falling in love with her.

Only life had got complicated. He'd thought it was complicated for him. How much more complicated was it for her?

She'd buried a husband. She'd said goodbye to two careers. She'd taken on a child so injured that she'd needed almost a hundred per cent commitment, and that at a time when Elsa was injured herself.

And along came Prince Stefanos, grudgingly changing direction this once. Hating the idea that he'd be handing over
his work, his teaching, his skills, watching others take his work forward while he ceased to be able to contribute.

She knew his commitment was grudging. She had so much generosity of spirit herself that she must know it.

He'd enjoy family medicine, he thought, and doing everything else he could to help Khryseis, as a doctor and as the island's Prince Regent. He must. He'd immerse himself into it all, convince Elsa that he was content.

Only she knew him. He couldn't lie to her. And it wasn't entirely the work he wanted to do.

Khryseis wasn't big enough for the medical work he wanted to do.

But…

For some reason, the academic's words stuck. Hit a chord.

You know what? She sees the big picture
.

Khryseis was one of three islands. Put together…

He needed to concentrate on these cases. He'd be operating hours after landing. He needed to read his notes.

But there were things happening in his head apart from his most pressing concerns. Major things.

The image came to him of the night he'd held the three tiny turtle hatchlings in his hand.

I guess, if they walked far enough, the ocean is that-a-way
, he'd said.

Yeah, but changing direction's easier
, she'd whispered.
I ought to know
.

Could he somehow change direction but get to the same place by another route?

There wasn't time to think this through now. Those kids were lined up waiting for him. But he had six weeks to think.

How much did he want Elsa?

And Zoe. And Khryseis. And turtles and cats and Amy's Christmas Cake which, for some weird reason, was becoming a really big thing to look forward to.

How much did he want them all?

He lifted his third set of case notes and tried to read.

But all he saw was Elsa.

T
HEY
coped without him.

It was a strange thing, caring for a child who'd been dependent for years but who was finally finding her wings. Zoe couldn't wait to get out of bed in the morning, to meet her new friend, to play with Buster, to be allowed to start school. Medical constraints, always suffered stoically, were now a nuisance to be ignored. She bounced around the palace with growing confidence and pleasure, and by Christmas there wasn't a member of the palace staff who wouldn't have given their right arm for her.

Zoe was gloriously in love with this new life.

So was Elsa. Sort of.

She and Helena were working through the issues with the turtles with cautious exhilaration. There was so much to be done. The turtles' habitat had been destroyed once, and only part of it had regrown. Turtles were crossing roads to dig their nests. There were threats everywhere, and this for a world endangered species. Making them safe was imperative. Extrapolating the research was breathtakingly exciting. She could make a difference.

There were so many things she could do.

But she wanted to be with Stefanos. Every morning she woke rethinking his proposal. Was she crazy? She'd turned down a man she could love with all her heart.

She knew it was more than that, but that was the problem. Her head knew things her heart didn't necessarily agree with.

‘Will Stefanos be home for Christmas?' Zoe asked for about the thousandth time since he'd left and, for the thousandth time, she replied.

‘He said he would be. He's phoning us as often as he can, sweetheart, and he doesn't seem to be changing his mind. And then he's going to stay with you while I have my hip fixed.'

‘I don't want you to go away.'

She didn't want to go away either, but it was organised. The day after New Year she'd fly to Athens and spend a month in hospital.

She should be grateful. She was grateful. Zoe was happy and blooming. There were no money problems. She had work that truly interested her, and her hip was about to be treated.

So why was a part of her so miserable?

Happy Christmas, she told herself fiercely on Christmas Eve, as she helped Zoe hang her stocking in front of the vast fireplace in the great hall. Last year she'd used a sock in front of the fire-stove. This year the housekeeper had hand-stitched Zoe a gold and crimson stocking, with the most beautiful appliquéd Father Christmas and elves and reindeer.

It looked beautiful on the great mantel. But, despite the massive Christmas tree the staff had set up—or maybe because of it—it looked really alone.

‘You should have a stocking too,' Zoe said as she'd said every Christmas since they'd been together.

‘Stockings are for kids.'

‘You never get presents.'

‘Stefanos should be home. That'll be a present for both of us.'

‘He should be here now,' Zoe said severely. It was almost bedtime on Christmas Eve. She'd counted on her big cousin coming today. ‘He said he'd come.'

‘Maybe he'll come in the night like Santa Claus,' Elsa said. ‘Maybe we won't see him come if we stay up.'

‘You think we should go to bed?'

‘Why not?' She was weary of waiting, herself. She was
riding an emotional roller coaster and didn't know how to get off. If Stefanos didn't come…He'd promised Zoe.

He'd promised her.

‘Okay,' Zoe said, infinitely trusting. She tucked her hand into Elsa's and tugged her towards the stairs. ‘Let's go to bed and make it come quicker.'

 

He had so much to do he felt like Santa Claus, zooming across the world at midnight. Actually he was only flying from Athens to Khryseis on the seaplane, but he did feel a bit like Santa. He had so many gifts in his pack. He sat next to the pilot, gazed out at the blue-black sky and the stars hanging low and lovely in the heavens, and he felt that a little bit of magic was around.

He needed magic. In his pocket was a ring almost worthy of the woman he loved—the ancient ring of Khryseis, plaited gold with three magnificent diamonds embedded in its depths.

She wouldn't take it unless she accepted the rest of his sleigh load, he thought ruefully. A woman of principle was the woman he'd chosen to give his heart.

Would she take it? He'd done so much. If there was anything else he could do…Anything at all…

He had a mad compulsion to tell the pilot to turn the plane around. So much was at stake. The woman he'd chosen as his life's partner had knocked him back because of her principles. If he didn't get it right this time…

What else could he do?

The lights of Khryseis came into view and the plane started its descent. He could see the palace from here, lit up like a fairy palace. That'd be the staff celebrating Christmas, he thought. The whole staff—the whole island—was overjoyed to have their royal family in residence.

Or their royal princess and her nanny, he corrected himself. For a family required more.

Would she accept him now? She must. For years he'd scorned the idea of a family. Now it seemed he couldn't live without it.

He'd met one feisty, beautiful nanny and his world had changed.

‘Coming in to land now, sir,' the pilot said, looking ahead at the palace lights. ‘Seems someone's keeping the home fires burning.'

‘I hope so,' he murmured.

‘I think every person on the island hopes so,' the pilot said enigmatically. ‘Welcome home, Your Highness.'

 

‘Santa's been and Stefanos is home.'

Elsa woke to find Zoe bouncing up and down on her bed, the long-suffering Buster being bounced with her. ‘Come and see, come and see, come and see. Santa's been, Santa's been, Santa's been.'

Despite the tumult of emotions she'd gone to bed with and woken with—
Stefanos is home
—she had to smile. Zoe had been just as excited last year when all she'd been able to give her were a couple of handmade toys she'd bought at a local market. This year should be fun.

Stefanos is home
.

‘It's humungous,' Zoe was saying. ‘You should see. How can Santa have brought it down the chimney?'

Humungous? Nothing she'd stuffed in Zoe's stocking could be described as humungous. And…

Stefanos is home
.

‘Stefanos…' she said cautiously.

‘He got home really late. Christina told me he snuck in after all the staff went to bed—almost morning. Elsa, you have to get up and see what Santa's brought me.'

So Stefanos would be asleep. That gave her breathing space. She'd have time to enjoy Zoe's stocking with her before she needed to face him.

It wasn't that she didn't want to see him, she thought, feeling really confused. Not exactly. There was a big part of her that ached for him.

There was another part of her that was just plain custard.

But he was asleep. Hooray. She threw back the covers, pulled on a robe and padded downstairs.

She'd never get used to the opulence of this place. The staircase was wide enough to fit ten people abreast.

‘The king who built this place must have been as fat as a whale,' she told Zoe. ‘Or he had ten kids to take by the hand every Christmas morning.' Zoe giggled and they were both still chuckling as Zoe hauled open the double doors to the great hall.

She stopped dead.

How long since she'd believed in Santa Claus?

When they'd gone to bed the Christmas tree was a decorator item, set up by the staff as a tasteful ode to Christmas. Now…whoever had come during the night had turned the tree into an over the top muddle.

The exquisite decorations and silver lights were still under there somewhere, but they were now almost hidden. Hung over the top of them were rows and rows of coloured popcorn, threaded together and hung in vast ribbons of garish colour. There were paper lanterns—every colour of the rainbow. Pictures of cats had been placed in tiny silver frames and hung as ornaments. There was a collection of motley socks hanging everywhere, all bulging.

‘The socks have got apples in them,' Zoe said, awed, tugging her towards the tree. ‘That one's a football sock and that one has a hole in the toe. And look at my present.'

She was seeing it. Stunned.

It was a trampoline, an eminently bouncy mat, built with a net canopy around it so a child could bounce without fear of falling.

For a child who needed to be encouraged to stretch scar tissue…for a child who loved bouncing…it was the best thing.

‘And you have a stocking too,' Zoe said, deeply satisfied. ‘Look.'

She looked. On the mantelpiece hung three stockings. Zoe's was bulging with nonsense gifts, a tin whistle, a boomerang—a boomerang?—a clockwork mouse…

More pictures of cats.

And there was a stocking labelled
Elsa
. A small parcel bulged in the toe, a document rolled and tied with a huge red bow was sticking out the end, and there were more pictures of cats.

The stocking labelled
Stefanos
was empty.

‘We should have something for Stefanos,' Zoe said anxiously. ‘Santa didn't come to him.'

‘We have a couple of gifts in our room,' Elsa said uncertainly. ‘We could sneak up and put them in his stocking before he wakes.'

‘It's too late for sneaking,' said a low gravelly voice and she yelped.

The voice had come from behind the vast Christmas tree. Zoe darted behind in a flash.

‘Stefanos,' she shouted. ‘He's here. Elsa, he's here, sleeping behind the tree.'

‘I always sleep behind the tree,' a sleepy voice murmured, full of laughter. ‘For years and years. But I've never yet caught Santa Claus. Has he come?'

‘He's come, he's come.' Zoe was squealing with excitement. ‘And he's brought crazy socks. Elsa, he's here. Stefanos is here. Come and see.'

There wasn't a choice. She should have at least brushed her hair, she thought desperately, as she tried to organise her smile to be cool and welcoming. She walked cautiously around the tree, and there he was. He'd hauled a mattress downstairs, and a mound of bedding. He was lying back, smiling up at them, his blankets pulled only to his waist. Bare-chested.

Breathtakingly gorgeous.

Buster was on his stomach already, kneading his blankets with her soft paws and purring so hard you'd swear she'd recognised him. Zoe was snuggling down beside him, a little girl with everything she wanted in life.

‘You've messed with our Christmas decorations,' she muttered before she could stop herself, and his grin widened.

‘I threaded popcorn all the way from New York to Athens,
and I made half my fellow passengers help me. The rest were on lantern duty. And then it still looked a bit empty so Santa had to resort to socks. And a happy Christmas to you too, Mrs Murdoch. Dr Langham. My love.'

There was a bit too much in that statement for Elsa to think about. She opened her mouth to reply and gave up and closed it again.

‘No Happy Christmas?' he said, smiling at her evident confusion.

‘Happy Christmas,' she managed, sounding winded. ‘Why…why aren't you in your own bed?'

‘I might have missed present opening. Have you opened your stocking yet?' He rolled out of bed. He'd gone to bed wearing boxer shorts. Only boxer shorts. What more could a girl want for Christmas? she thought as she watched him stretch and yawn; as she thought all sorts of things that surely a nicely brought up girl—a mature widow!—had no business thinking.

Had she opened her stocking? ‘N…no,' she managed, annoyed that her voice squeaked. ‘It's bad form to open gifts until the family's together.'

‘Is the family together now?' he asked gently and he looked at Zoe cradling Buster and then he looked to her with such an expression that her heart did a double backflip. Landed on its back. Refused to start operating again in any mode she considered normal.

‘I…I guess,' she muttered.

‘No guessing,' he said, suddenly stern. ‘You need to be sure. Zoe, I'm assuming you've guessed this very fine trampoline came squeezing down the chimney in the wee small hours especially for you. Would you like to try it out for size?'

‘Ooh, yes,' Zoe said and flew with Buster to the trampoline, only to be hauled back by her big cousin.

‘Buster,' Stefanos said firmly, removing the long-suffering kitten from her arms, ‘stays on the ground.'

Only he didn't. Stefanos handed Buster to Elsa and then, when her hands were safely occupied and she couldn't fend
him off, he kissed her. Just the once, but the look in his eyes said there were more where that came from. Just the once, but it was enough to light her world.