A Royal Proposal. Barbara Hannay

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      How could her father have kept this secret from her? Learning about it now, Charlie felt hurt. Deeply hurt, as if she’d been denied something precious. The other half of herself.

      She wondered how on earth the decision had been made. Obviously her parents had decided to split and take a child each. But how had they made that choice?

      Tossed a coin? Drawn straws?

      Charlie wouldn’t dwell on the fact that her mother had rejected her and chosen Olivia. It could warp her mind if she let that sink in too deeply. The important thing to remember was that she loved her father very much. She’d had a wonderful childhood and they’d shared many adventures, and they had a great relationship. She couldn’t imagine her life without her sweet, dreamy dad.

      But she also couldn’t deny that her feelings about Olivia were incredibly complicated. On one level she longed to meet her sister and get to know her, but on another level she was stupidly jealous that Olivia was going to marry this deadly handsome Prince.

      When Rafe found her.

      * * *

      They arrived in Grenoble mid-afternoon, descending through thick clouds into a world of whiteness. Snow blanketed every rooftop and field and Charlie was so excited she could hardly drag herself from the window when the flight attendant delivered her coat and scarf.

      ‘Do you have boots?’ Rafe asked, eyeing Charlie’s flimsy shoes. ‘You might need them.’

      ‘They’re packed away in my suitcase.’

      ‘Hmm.’ He came closer and fingered the fabric of her coat.

      Charlie could tell by his frown that the coat was inadequate.

      ‘This should be OK to get you from here to my car,’ he said. ‘But you’ll have to get something thicker and warmer for Montaigne.’

      ‘Yes, I dare say.’ The new coat would probably need to be a good deal more glamorous, too, Charlie thought, as she noted the elegant cut of Rafe’s thick overcoat. In other words, she would have to spend a big chunk of her meagre savings on a coat that she’d only need for a couple of weeks. But she couldn’t bring herself to ask Rafe for more money.

      Despite Rafe’s warning, Charlie wasn’t prepared for the blast of frigid air that hit her as she stepped out of the plane. The cold seemed to bite straight through her coat and penetrate to her very bones.

      ‘Are you OK?’ Rafe asked, slipping an arm around her shoulders. ‘Charlie, you’re shivering. Here, take my coat.’

      ‘No, it’s all right. We’re almost there.’

      Welcome warmth enveloped them as they left the tarmac and the airport’s doors slid open for them. But now there was something else to worry about.

      ‘Are there likely to be paparazzi here?’ she asked.

      Rafe slanted her a smile. ‘There shouldn’t be. I’ve tried to keep my movements undercover.’

      Just the same, Charlie turned up the collar on her coat and tried to look relaxed when heads turned their way. She kept a fixed little smile in place as she walked with Rafe to the chauffeur waiting with a sleek black, unmarked car. All was well. So far.

      * * *

      Grenoble lay at the very foot of the Alps, so it wasn’t long before the car was climbing the mountainous slopes. Snowflakes drifted all around them, and Charlie watched through the car windows in delight.

      ‘It doesn’t snow in Sydney,’ she told Rafe. ‘I’ve seen snow in the Blue Mountains and on the tops of the peaks in Nepal, but we were there in summer. I’ve never seen it like this. With snow simply everywhere.’

      It was only then that she caught Rafe’s warning frown and his quick glance to the chauffeur sitting just in front of him.

      Oh, help.

      Charlie flinched. What an idiot she was. Of course, this chauffeur would talk to the rest of Rafe’s staff about the strange change in their master’s fiancée. Damn. She’d only just arrived and already she’d made a huge blunder.

      Her face was burning as she pressed her lips tightly together. She was such a fool. Turning away sharply, she held her eyes wide open to try to hold back any hint of tears.

      Until now, she hadn’t doubted that she could do this, but with this first silly gaffe the enormity of her task almost overwhelmed her. There would be so many chances to make mistakes—with servants, with government officials, with Rafe’s friends, shopkeepers...

      Rafe reached for her hand and she jumped, but his touch was gentle.

      ‘Don’t worry,’ he murmured, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze.

      ‘But—’ Charlie nodded meaningfully towards the back of the chauffeur’s head.

      ‘It’s OK,’ Rafe said quietly, still holding her hand. ‘I’ll speak to him.’ After a bit, he added, ‘You’ll probably prefer not to have a personal maid.’

      Heavens no. Charlie supposed Olivia might have had a maid, but she was bound to make way too many slip-ups under that level of vigilant attention. ‘I don’t think a maid will be necessary,’ she said carefully.

      Rafe nodded.

      Deeply grateful, Charlie managed a weak smile. ‘I’ll get the hang of this,’ she promised.

      ‘Of course you will.’

      His hand was warm on hers.

      Already, she was beginning to like Rafe. Too much.

      * * *

      The early twilight was growing darker by the minute. Below them, the lights of Grenoble twinkled prettily, and as the road wound ever upwards, night pressed in. They passed clusters of steep-roofed chalets that glowed with welcoming warmth, but for most of the journey the Alps loomed dark and slightly ominous, the car’s headlights catching huge rocky outcrops topped with snow.

      Charlie wondered how long it would take to reach Montaigne, but she refrained from asking Rafe and once again exposing her ignorance. It wasn’t easy for a natural chatterbox to remain silent, but discretion was her new watchword.

      From time to time, Rafe talked to her about matters that he needed to attend to over the next few days. Meetings, luncheons, more meetings, dinners.

      ‘You’ll be busy,’ Charlie said, and she wondered what she would do while Rafe was buzzing around attending to his princely duties.

      ‘You’ll probably need to attend some of these functions,’ he said. ‘Especially the dinners, but I’ll try to keep your duties light. You’ll have plenty of time for shopping.’

      Shopping. Oh, dear.

      It was about an hour and a half later that they reached Montaigne perched high in an Alpine valley. The capital city was incredibly pretty, bathed in the clear moonlight, with lights shining from a thousand windows. The valley looked like a bowl of sparkling, golden СКАЧАТЬ