He really didn’t need that kind of thing, he was striking enough already, tall and tanned, with an easy manner that marked him out as someone who would always be acceptable in any social setting.
She was introduced to their hosts, and Hugo kissed the lady of the house on both cheeks. A drink appeared magically in her hand, and Hugo shook his head when he was offered one, obviously feeling that the juggling of drinks and handshakes would be too much for him to accomplish while taking care not to compromise his recent surgery.
‘Prince Hugo!’ A middle-aged woman marched up to him, and Hugo responded to her greeting with a hug. His face and body showed no signs of the pain that it would have caused him, but Nell knew that his left shoulder must be pulling at the movement. Then someone brushed against his left side, and this time he jumped imperceptibly.
This was no good. Nell carefully slipped in between Hugo and the people on his left side, curling her fingers around his left elbow. She knew exactly which angle his arm would be the most comfortable at, and she made a show of seeming to hang on to his arm, while making sure that it stayed immobile.
A nod, and a smile in her direction. And then, just for her, a mouthed Thank you.
‘Nell’s here from London. A friend of the family.’
The woman who was with him smiled. ‘What do you do?’
‘She’s in between jobs.’ Hugo had obviously decided to speak for her, in case she got their story wrong. ‘Taking a well-earned holiday.’
‘I’m particularly interested in the work of Hugo’s charity.’ Nell decided that taking Hugo’s arm could be forgiven, under the circumstances. Acting like a glove puppet couldn’t.
‘Ah...’ The woman nodded. ‘Well, he’s risen to the occasion yet again. Are you going to make a bid for him in the charity auction? So generous of His Highness to donate a trip with him on the royal yacht as one of the lots!’
Nell gave her brightest smile. ‘He didn’t tell me that there was going to be an auction after lunch until yesterday evening. It would be rude of me not to put in a bid for him.’
The woman laughed, and Hugo smiled graciously. Nell gritted her teeth.
A seemingly endless amount of small talk was cut short by their hostess, and everyone found their places at the tables. Champagne was served, and Nell leaned towards Hugo.
‘What happens if the amount I have to bid for you goes over the limit you can donate to the project?’ She hadn’t thought that would be possible last night, but now she wasn’t so sure.
‘You over-estimate my desirability.’
‘Not really. These women all look as if they can spend a large amount on just a whim.’
‘I’m suitably crushed.’ He put his hand to his heart, not looking even slightly crushed. ‘Remember this was your idea.’
‘Were there any other options?’
‘There’s always another option. But your solution was the best.’
‘So you weren’t looking forward to entertaining some lucky girl on the royal yacht for the weekend?’
‘What makes you think it’s going to be a woman? The trip on the yacht is the point of it all—a family with children would enjoy it, too.’
Right. Nell would bet a pound to a penny that there wouldn’t be any men bidding for this particular lot. But telling him that would only add to the chorus of appreciation that surrounded him, and Hugo already seemed to be under the misapprehension that he could get away with almost anything.
‘What’s Montarino doing with a royal yacht, anyway? It’s completely landlocked.’ Nell hadn’t thought to ask last night.
‘It’s moored in France. Montarino has an ancient treaty that allows us safe harbour there. Unfortunately the treaty doesn’t mention bills for the marina, so we have to pay those.’
‘So you were intending a three-hour drive to the coast, in addition to swimming and sailing and...whatever else you do on a royal yacht? You do know that you’re not supposed to be driving for six weeks.’ Last night this plan had seemed a matter of pretending to pay a nominal amount to get Hugo out of a fix. Now the stakes were looking a lot higher.
‘I won’t be doing any of that, though, will I? Not if you win the bidding.’
* * *
The look that she gave him made the large hole that this afternoon was going to make in his bank balance seem more than worth it. Hugo could have changed his contribution to this afternoon’s auction to something that demanded a little less activity on his part, but the programmes were all printed, and somehow the idea of having Nell stake her claim on him publicly had made him lose touch with the more sensible options.
Lunch was eaten, and a frisson of excitement ran around the tables when the auctioneer climbed up onto his podium. Nell’s hand moved to her bidding card.
‘You’re sure there’s no limit?’ She smiled suddenly and the sunlight playing on the ornamental fountains, on each side of the group of tables, dimmed in comparison.
‘I trust you.’
‘That might just be your first mistake...’
She was enjoying this. It occurred to Hugo that Nell might be about to teach him a lesson, and the idea didn’t fill him with as much dismay as it should have done.
Premier tickets for a football match, courtesy of Montarino’s one and only football team. Seats for a hotly anticipated rock concert. Some silver jewellery, from an up-and-coming new designer, who had cannily decided that it would do her no harm to have her work seen by the guests here today, was snapped up after a bidding war.
‘That’s a beautiful piece. It’ll really suit her.’ Nell was completely caught up in the proceedings, leaning over to murmur the words in his ear as she watched the winner talking excitedly to her husband.
‘Would you like one? I can have another made...’ The abstract curves of the silver necklace would actually suit Nell far better than they would Monique LaTour.
‘Don’t you dare!’ She turned to him, a look of reprimand on her face. ‘For what she’s just paid, she deserves to have something unique.’
Hugo thought about telling her that Jacques LaTour was a multimillionaire and that Monique had enough jewellery to fill a wardrobe. But he doubted the information would make any difference to Nell, and anyway her attention was back on the auctioneer’s podium now.
‘Now, a special treat, ladies and gentlemen. Hosted by His Royal Highness Crown Prince Hugo DeLeon, a weekend trip on Montarino’s royal yacht.’ A gratifying buzz of excitement ran around the tables. Hugo smiled in acknowledgement, and then glanced at Nell. Her champagne flute was in her hand, and she’d just downed the whole glass in one.
* * *
Ted would have to drive back, or they could call for the chauffeur. Nell was sure that something could be arranged, and she needed something to calm her nerves. Bubbles hit the back of her throat and she almost choked.
This
