Matty said to Kelly and she swallowed.
‘I…of course. When I can.’
But she was suddenly much more unsure than she had been last night. Dressing up last night had seemed…well, even a little bit of fun. But to go any further, and to do it by Rafael’s side when…when Anna wasn’t his partner…
‘I want you to ride with me,’ Matty said and her heart closed—snap—like a clam closing on expected pain.
‘Matty, I can’t.’
‘You can’t ride?’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘There’s lots of that about,’ Laura said sadly, standing and starting to clear plates. ‘Let’s just take each day as it comes. Starting now. We’ll get these trucks unpacked and that’ll make Rafael happy. He’ll have his dungeons to play in.’
‘And Mama will stay in her attic,’ Matty said. ‘Aunt Laura, it’s you and me who’ll have to be Prince and Princess.’
‘Aren’t you the lucky ones?’ Anna said and smiled, but Laura looked at her son’s partner as if she were a sandwich short of a picnic.
‘Anna, I’m afraid you don’t have a clue what these two are fighting,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, my dears, I wish I could help. But Matty…yes, until Rafael and your mama work themselves out then I guess we’re it.’
In the end, keeping herself to herself was easy. She just had to be ruthless. She just had to say no firmly to Matty and walk away.
The castle libraries were amazing. Distressed and confused on that first morning, while Laura took Matty down to the stables to chat to the horses and to listen to his adventures in Australia, Kelly roamed the shelves and found tomes and documents and charts that could keep a historian happy for a century or more.
She blocked out the sound of Matty’s voice drifting up from the courtyard. She blocked out the sound of the men’s voices unloading the trucks, Rafael giving orders, Anna arguing…
The gong sounded for lunch but she’d already warned Cook and Matty that she seldom stopped for lunch. She didn’t want to be part of that big familiar kitchen again. She worked on, trying to figure where to start. Maybe cataloguing to begin with. Mindless work while she got her bearings.
At about three in the afternoon she decided the castle was silent and she might conceivably have the kitchen to herself. She went down to make herself a sandwich.
She didn’t have the kitchen to herself. Rafael was seated alone at the vast table. He had a bottle of beer before him, and the remnants of a sandwich.
She blinked. Prince Regent of Alp de Ciel with a beer and a sandwich?
He looked up as she entered, like a kid who’d been caught in a crime.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, suppressing an involuntary smile, and tried to back out.
‘I know. I should be eating caviare patties and drinking champagne,’ he said mournfully. ‘But I kinda like beer. I’m happy to share, though. I’m not sure where the caviare is, but the makings of sandwiches are in the first refrigerator.’
‘I don’t need…’
‘If you’re like me, you do need. It’s just the whole company bit that worries you.’
She hesitated. Okay, it would be surly to back away now. She might as well eat. ‘So why does it worry you?’ she asked.
‘It’s not as bad as it used to be,’ he admitted. ‘Castle meals used to be a nightmare. A dining table twenty feet long with a damned great epergne set in the middle of it, so you couldn’t see who was at the far end. The minute Kass died my mother decreed that everyone—servants and all—would eat in here. Actually, until Kass died Matty would mostly eat at the dower house, but now Kass is dead my mother thinks Matty’s place is here.’
‘Matty thinks his place is here,’ she said cautiously and he nodded.
‘Yeah. How to give a man a guilty conscience…’ He swigged his beer from the bottle and watched her make a sandwich.
‘So where’s Anna?’ she asked.
‘Gone.’
‘Already?’
‘I’m guessing she thinks she might get stuck if she stays any longer,’ he said. ‘She came under protest, to make sure the more delicate bits of equipment were treated with respect. She hates that I’m staying. She gave me a blast and a half and then she retreated. She wants me to go back to Manhattan to talk to the kids.’
‘And will you?’
‘Not until after the coronation,’ he said morosely. ‘And even then…there’s a vast amount to do here. Sure, I don’t want to care. I think I’m forced to. I don’t have an attic.’
‘Don’t give me a hard time,’ she growled. ‘And, by the way, don’t try kissing me again.’
‘That was a mistake,’ he agreed gravely.
‘It certainly was.’
He watched her, considering. ‘You didn’t like it just a little bit?’
‘No.’
His eyes creased at the corners, with just the faintest hint of lurking laughter. ‘Liar.’
‘I fell in love with Kass,’ she reminded him. ‘One de Boutaine in a lifetime is enough.’
It took the teasing right away from his eyes. The laughter disappeared.
‘You kissed me because I look like Kass?’
‘Why else would I kiss you?’
‘Right,’ he said flatly. ‘Right.’
‘And you kissed me because?’ She shouldn’t ask, she thought, but the question had just sort of popped out before she could stop it.
‘God knows,’ he said bluntly. He shrugged. ‘God knows why I want to kiss you again now.’
‘You want to kiss me again now?’ Her voice broke on a squeak.
‘I do,’ he conceded. ‘Maybe it’s because I find your sweater almost irresistibly sexy.’
She looked down at her shapeless wool smock and she winced. It really was dreadful. She’d bought it mid-winter at a clearance sale and wore it for comfort. It was almost as old as Matty. Until now, she’d never worn it out of doors.
Once it had been crimson but it had faded with constant washing so now was a dreary pink. There was a moth hole in the bottom hem. She’d worried it a bit and the hole had extended.
‘Who knows what would happen if I ever saw you in lingerie,’ Rafael said bluntly. ‘Though, by the look of that sweater, I can only imagine what your lingerie’s like.’ He shook
