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From Doctor To Princess?
Annie Claydon


He’s her reluctant patient…But might she soon be his royal fiancée?Dr Nell Maitland has escaped her unpleasant former boss to become private physician to Dr Hugo DeLeon—who’s also a crown prince! But doctors make the worst patients…especially when they’re as distractingly handsome as Hugo. When her past catches up with her, Nell must fake an engagement to this Prince who makes her heart pound! Might she become his Princess for real?







He’s her reluctant patient...

But might she soon be his royal fiancée?

Dr. Nell Maitland escaped her unpleasant former boss to become private physician to Dr. Hugo DeLeon—who’s also a crown prince! But doctors make the worst patients—especially when they’re as distractingly handsome as Hugo. When her past catches up with her, Nell must fake an engagement with the prince who makes her heart pound! Might she become his princess for real?


Cursed with a poor sense of direction and a propensity to read, ANNIE CLAYDON spent much of her childhood lost in books. A degree in English Literature followed by a career in computing didn’t lead directly to her perfect job—writing romance for Mills & Boon—but she has no regrets in taking the scenic route. She lives in London: a city where getting lost can be a joy.


Also by Annie Claydon (#ulink_1b89b913-0f55-5937-a35d-1293badf3901)

Discovering Dr Riley

The Doctor’s Diamond Proposal

English Rose for the Sicilian Doc

Saving Baby Amy

Forbidden Night with the Duke

Healed by the Single Dad Doc

Stranded in His Arms miniseries

Rescued by Dr Rafe

Saved by the Single Dad

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


From Doctor To Princess?

Annie Claydon






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-07521-3

FROM DOCTOR TO PRINCESS?

© 2018 Annie Claydon

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Contents

Cover (#uf64841a7-d987-57f7-aab6-9b8ec23581f5)

Back Cover Text (#uc0aedf15-525e-5c48-811f-7bba060a97e4)

About the Author (#ue59e277e-d481-5622-8401-76c328f60831)

Booklist (#ulink_8934e1fe-3580-5fb2-9a09-d469958f38d9)

Title Page (#u17ba0bd8-e8d1-5d6e-b1cb-9e2ec26f9de7)

Copyright (#uac022905-5713-565c-80d4-89a4fe90b7f0)

CHAPTER ONE (#u7b10a1cb-78a3-5d09-ab46-8ec64eab0ed1)

CHAPTER TWO (#ufabb2d43-7ede-5670-9b58-edc2afc3b327)

CHAPTER THREE (#uc92584fc-47f6-5fd3-b8d2-94f5628104dd)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u95bf086a-004c-5a96-8163-e033f35b86a7)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_f908be1d-0e29-51ae-8f95-0fb7e9d78be7)

THE LEATHER CAR seat creaked slightly as Crown Prince Hugo DeLeon shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. There wasn’t one. He’d only been out of the hospital for twenty-four hours, and the pain in his left shoulder was normal. It would subside in a day or so, and he knew that impatience wasn’t going to make him heal any faster.

All the same, he was impatient. And if his father thought that he was helping Hugo to get back to normal, then he wasn’t.

There wasn’t a great deal of choice in the matter, though. The King of Montarino was accustomed to being obeyed, and when he had visited his only son in the discreet private ward of the hospital, he’d made it clear that he was taking no arguments. He’d smiled at Hugo, in much the same way as any father would, and told him that his duty to his country was clear and very simple. He had to get better.

In order to make sure that his son’s recovery went smoothly, the King had recruited a doctor who would stay with him at all times over the next month or so. Hugo had still been drowsy from the anaesthetic and his back hurt from having lain still while the pacemaker had been inserted into his chest, but he had got the message. His father didn’t trust Hugo to look after himself, and so he was appointing a minder to do it.

He hadn’t told Hugo much about this minder, other than that she was a woman, eminently qualified, and that she was due to fly out from London today. The last detail was another smart move on his father’s part, because Hugo knew most of the doctors in the small principality of Montarino, particularly those who were well qualified in cardiology. He might well have been able to wriggle out of the arrangement with any one of them, but this woman was an unknown quantity.

He wondered briefly whether she’d come equipped with tranquillisers and physical restraints. And, more to the point, whether she’d been briefed about the requirement for discretion. Hugo assumed that she had, because discretion was one of the codes that his family lived by, and his father never let anyone forget it.

‘That’ll be her...’ His bodyguard sat in the front seat of the car, and had the advantage of an unobscured view. Hugo squinted through the tinted windows, and saw the chauffeur walking across the forecourt towards the airport’s short-stay car park. Beside him was a young woman with mid-brown hair and a supple sway to her walk, which made the short hairs at the back of Hugo’s neck prickle slightly.

Probably another one of his father’s carefully reasoned choices. Hugo had to admit that he wasn’t known for saying no to beautiful women, but unusually the King had misjudged the situation this time. A career woman, particularly a doctor, wasn’t someone that he could contemplate giving any part of his heart to.

‘She doesn’t look too formidable.’ Ted spoke in English, turning slightly in his seat to display the hint of a smile.

‘I wouldn’t bank on looks. She’s managed to keep hold of her suitcase, and I imagine that Jean-Pierre did everything he could to wrestle it away from her.’ Hugo turned the corners of his mouth down. The first thing his father’s chauffeur would have done was to try to relieve their guest of her luggage and wheel her suitcase for her.

‘I must be getting slow, I missed that.’ Ted had done nothing of the sort; he just hadn’t seen fit to mention it. In the five years that he’d been with Hugo, since his retirement from the British police force, the two men had learned to read each other’s thoughts and trust what they saw. It had been Ted who had happened to mention that he’d heard that the doctor was being picked up from the airport this morning, and Hugo had made the expected decision to go with the car to greet her. Sizing her up before anyone else at the palace got the chance to speak with her couldn’t be a bad thing.

Ted got out of the car, walking to the rear passenger door and opening it. For all the world as if he were according Hugo the respect his position required, rather than helping him with the weight of the door. Hugo climbed out of the car, ignoring the tingle of pain that reached from his chest down his left arm.

Now that she was closer, Dr Penelope Maitland didn’t seem as formidable as her old-fashioned name might lead one to suppose. She was all curves and movement, looking almost girlish in a tan jacket over a cream summer dress, creased from travelling. Her light brown hair glinted in the sunshine, and bare, tanned legs gave her the fresh, outdoorsy look of someone going on holiday.

Maybe the gorgeous Dr Penelope was a rare mistake on his father’s part. This woman looked as if she was more likely to spend her time here enjoying the pleasures of Montarino, not nagging him about his health. When her honey-coloured gaze met his, there was a spark of recognition and she smiled. A carefree kind of smile that sent tingles down his spine and allowed Hugo to believe that she didn’t have it in her to make his life difficult.

Then she stopped in front of him, letting go of her suitcase long enough for Jean-Pierre to grab it and wheel it around to the boot of the car. ‘I’m Dr Maitland. I’m told that I shouldn’t curtsey.’

Her voice was like honey but her tone was like steel. Clearly Dr Penelope wasn’t going to be quite as much of a walkover as her appearance suggested.

‘Thank you. I’d prefer it if you didn’t.’ Hugo held out his right hand, glad that the pacemaker was on the left side of his chest, and didn’t hamper the movement of his right arm. Her grip was as firm as her tone. ‘Welcome to Montarino. I’m Hugo DeLeon.’

‘Yes, I know.’ She shot him a questioning look, and Hugo wondered whether she was going to rebuke him for coming to meet her. He mumbled the usual invitation to call him Hugo, wondering if he’d get to call her Penelope. The name seemed suddenly as if it would taste sweet on his lips.

‘Please call me Nell...’

Hugo smiled his acquiescence. Nell sounded soft and sweet too, even if it was a little shorter.

‘You must be tired from your journey. We should be going...’ Hugo’s discreet gesture to Jean-Pierre prompted him to get into the car.

She raised one eyebrow. ‘Yes, we should be going. I’m surprised to see you out and about so soon.’

Her words had an edge to them. If anyone should be feeling tired she clearly expected that it should be him, and Hugo had to admit that he was surprised at the effort involved in making a simple car journey.

‘I’m grateful for the fresh air.’

At the moment, the fresh air was making his head spin. Hugo stood back from the open door of the car and she hesitated and then got in, sliding quickly across the back seat before Hugo could even think about closing the car door and walking around to get in on the other side.

All the same, he welcomed the move. On this side, the seat belt wouldn’t need to rest painfully on his left shoulder. Hugo got into the car, and Ted closed the door before he could reach for it.

‘Have you been to Montarino before?’ Hugo had years of practice with small talk.

‘No.’ Nell shook her head, regarding him thoughtfully.

‘It’s very small, only eight miles across, but very beautiful. We have one city, half a mountain and, although we have no coastline, there are some beautiful lakes.’

‘That’s nice. I’ll have to come back sometime when I’m not working. I probably won’t have much time to see them this time around.’ Her mouth was set in a firm line, and Hugo’s heart sank. Clearly there was no hope of deflecting the redoubtable Dr Penelope from her intended purpose.

* * *

Four days ago, Nell Maitland had ridden home on the night bus, after the farewell party that her colleagues at the hospital had thrown for her. It had been the ultimate failure, after months of trying to work things out with the cardiac unit’s new head of the department, and save the job that she loved so much. And now...

She was riding in a chauffeur-driven car, sitting next to a prince. It was an object lesson in how dramatically things could change in so little time.

‘I gather you have a strong tradition of attracting the best musicians.’ She smiled in response to Hugo DeLeon’s indication of the Montarino Opera House, and the car obligingly slowed to allow her a more detailed look.

‘We like to think that we can hold our own with the rest of Europe when it comes to our appreciation of the arts. You do know a little about Montarino, then?’

Anyone could use the Internet. Although Nell had to admit that the photographs didn’t do the grand building justice. Its sweeping, modern lines, rising from the tree-lined plaza that surrounded it, would have made it a landmark in the greatest of cities.

‘Only as much as I could read in the last couple of days. In between packing.’ Nell wondered whether he’d mind that she hadn’t even known where Montarino was before she’d taken this job. It had just been a name, tethered somewhere at the back of her mind, along with a lot of other places that she knew nothing about.

Hugo nodded, smiling. ‘That’s one of the best things about living here. Most people have few preconceptions, and so we have the chance to attempt to surprise our visitors.’

And it seemed that Hugo DeLeon was giving it his best shot. Nell had been told that he was a doctor as well as a prince, and that her advice would be a matter of reinforcing a message that he was already well aware of. In other words, he reckoned that the physical limits that applied to ordinary people weren’t for the likes of a prince, and he needed to be kept in check.

Nell had no idea in which direction they were supposed to be going, but she was aware that the car seemed to be taking a circuitous route past a number of notable buildings, all of which Hugo was intent on pointing out. If he thought that was going to deflect her from her purpose, he was wrong.

‘I’m looking forward to seeing the palace.’ She smiled brightly, wondering whether he’d take the hint.

‘We’re nearly there now.’ Hugo raised his voice a little. ‘Jean-Pierre...’

The driver nodded, turning smoothly onto a wide, straight boulevard and putting his foot on the gas. It seemed that everyone here responded to Hugo’s every word, which was the first challenge attached to this new appointment.

The ambassador, who had interviewed her at the embassy in London, had said little but implied a lot. He’d got her medical qualifications and the fact that she spoke French tolerably well out of the way in the first five minutes. Then he’d turned the conversation around to her patient.

‘Hugo DeLeon, Crown Prince of Montarino, can be...’ The ambassador had paused slightly before coming to a conclusion about how to describe it. ‘He can be self-willed.’

Nell had read arrogant into his words and had smiled politely. She had experience of dealing with all kinds of patients, and self-willed wasn’t a problem. Neither was arrogant.

What the ambassador hadn’t warned her about was his smile. It was polite, appropriate, and yet it seemed to hold real warmth. His high cheekbones lent a touch of class, and his shock of dark blonde hair, no doubt artfully arranged to make it appear slightly tousled, added a boyish note. Green eyes gave a hint that Hugo DeLeon was capable of some pretty serious mischief. Nell would have to watch out for those eyes.

But however handsome he was, however his smile made her stomach quiver, Nell had a job to do. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her handbag, which lay comfortingly across her knees. A man had gotten between her and her job before, and no one, not even this handsome prince, was going to do it again.

* * *

White knuckles. Hugo was used to looking for the little signs that told him what people were really thinking, and he’d noticed that Nell was clutching her handbag on her lap like some kind of defensive weapon. Despite the firm tone and the clear hints that he shouldn’t have come to the airport, there was a chink in her armour. One that he may well need to find and exploit if it turned out that the restrictions she placed on him got in the way of his current plans.

They’d driven through the grounds of the palace and the car stopped at the ceremonial entrance to allow them to get out. She gave the high, pillared archways a glance and then turned to him as the car moved smoothly away.

‘My luggage...’

‘Jean-Pierre will arrange for it to be taken up to your apartment.’ A sudden flare of panic had shown in Nell’s eyes, and Hugo almost felt sorry for her. But keeping her a little off-balance, a little over-awed was exactly what he wanted.

‘Right. Thank you.’

‘Perhaps I can show you around.’ The palace was big enough and grand enough to disorientate her even further.

‘I think that’s best left for some other time.’ She was as sweet-smelling and soft as a summer’s day, but there was no getting over the determination behind it all. ‘This...apartment. I was told that it would be next door to yours.’

‘Yes, it is.’ If Hugo had had any say in the matter, he’d have put her on the other side of the building, but he hadn’t. His father didn’t often step into his life, but when he did, he did it thoroughly.

‘With a connecting door?’

So someone had told her about that, too. Or maybe she’d asked. Hugo had rather hoped that he could just keep the connecting door closed and that it would never occur to anyone to open it.

‘Yes, that’s right. It’s generally kept locked...’ Finding the key was an easy enough matter on the rare occasions that he brought a girlfriend with him to stay at the palace for a few days, but he was sure he could just as easily lose it.

‘I imagine someone has the key. Being a doctor yourself, you’ll understand the need to have access to your patient.’

‘And I’m sure you’ll understand where your duties begin and end.’ Since the pleasantries didn’t seem to be working all that well, it was obviously time to make things clear.

‘The ambassador outlined them, yes.’ She pressed her lips together and Hugo imagined that the British Ambassador had deployed all of the expected diplomacy in the matter. ‘The King’s letter of appointment, on the other hand, was a little less circumspect.’

Great. So his father had decided that he needed to weigh in on that as well. And even if the tiny quiver at the side of Nell’s mouth told Hugo that she was feeling over-awed and nervous, her cool gaze indicated that she wasn’t going to let that stop her from doing her job.

‘Perhaps we should talk, over some tea.’ Since deflection wasn’t working, maybe negotiation would. The next step would be outright battle, and Hugo would prefer to avoid that.

‘Yes. I think that would be a very good idea.’


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_1a5e288a-57b1-568d-b807-86e3a1ceda3e)

HUGO HAD OPENED the door that concealed the lift, and when she’d seen the old-fashioned gates, she’d slipped in front of him, heaving them to one side. Part of him was grateful, but a greater part decreed that as a gentleman, and her host, he should have been quicker in insisting he open the gates himself. When he motioned her ahead of him into the lift, she hovered annoyingly next to the gates, giving him no opportunity to open them when they reached the third floor.

He showed her to her apartment, leaving her alone to freshen up. That would give him at least three quarters of an hour to rest before he had to submit to another onslaught from her.

Hugo sank gratefully into the chair in his private sitting room and closed his eyes. This morning he had woken feeling invigorated, and it had only been the pain in his shoulder that had reminded him he was unable to move mountains. Wide awake, his body feeling the immediate benefit of a heart that was now paced and doing its job properly, he’d jumped at the chance of getting out of the constriction of four walls, but it had worn him out. His own advice to pacemaker patients—that they might start to feel better almost immediately but must rest and get over the operation first—would be given with a lot more certainty in the future.

Fifteen minutes later, a quiet knock sounded on the main door to the apartment and he shouted to whoever it was to come in, keeping his eyes closed. If someone was here to make the tea or fuss over him, then he’d rather they waited until he was strong enough to smilingly refuse their help.

‘How are you feeling?’ Nell’s voice made his eyes snap open.

‘Fine. Thank you.’ Hugo’s eye’s darted to the clock above the mantelpiece. Surely he hadn’t been asleep...

Apparently not. She was pink-cheeked, as if she’d just got out of the shower, and Nell had changed out of her travelling clothes and into a slim pair of dark blue trousers with a white shirt, open at the neck and buttoned at the cuffs. She looked businesslike and entirely delicious.

He shifted, wishing that the ache in his left shoulder would go away, and Nell stepped forward. Without any warning at all, she caught up one of the cushions from the sofa and bent over him.

Her scent was... It was just soap. The soap that was placed in all the guest bathrooms at the palace. But Nell made it smell intoxicating. The brush of her hair, one soft curl against his cheek, almost paralysed him.

‘Is that a little better?’ She’d placed the cushion carefully under his left arm so that it supported his shoulder.

‘Yes. A lot better, thank you.’

Nell nodded, looking around the room as if she’d mislaid something. ‘Does your apartment have a kitchen? Or do you have to send out for tea?’

‘The kitchen’s through there.’ The desire to stay where he was battled with a strong disinclination to have her make tea for him. Hugo shifted, ready for the effort of standing up, and she reached forward, her hand on his right shoulder.

‘I didn’t go to all the trouble of arranging cushions for you to spoil it all by making the tea. Stay there.’ Her voice was kindly but firm. It occurred to Hugo that if he didn’t feel so tired he might have delighted in having Nell be kind and firm with him all afternoon, and then he reminded himself that business and pleasure was a very bad mix.

He heard her clattering around in the kitchen and closed his eyes. Listening to Nell was almost as good as watching her, because he could still see her in his mind’s eye. That was another thing that was going to have to stop.

* * *

Nell found a set of mugs in the kitchen cupboard. It was a surprise, since she’d expected that a prince would drink only out of bone china, but a good one. She’d been up very early this morning and could definitely do with a decent-sized cup of tea.

She looked in the cupboard for biscuits and found a packet of chocolate digestives. Things were definitely looking up. Next to them was a packet of painkillers, wrapped around with a piece of paper with a typed chart, each dose ticked off neatly. Hugo had taken this morning’s tablets but was past due for the lunchtime ones.

He was clearly overdoing things. And her letter of appointment had spelled out exactly what she was supposed to do in response to that likely eventuality. She had to make sure that he took the rest he needed.

She put the tea things on a tray and walked quietly into the sitting room. Large and filled with light, the furniture was stylish but comfortable, allowing the baroque fireplace and the gilded mirror above it to take precedence. Hugo seemed to be dozing, but when she put the tray down, moving a small side table next to his chair, he opened his eyes.

‘This is...quite unnecessary.’ He seemed quite devoted to the idea that there was nothing wrong with him.

‘And these?’ She raised an eyebrow, putting a glass of water and his tablets down next to him. ‘Pain’s generally the body’s way of hinting that you should slow down a bit.’

‘I thought I’d take them when I got back.’ He seemed to be watching her every move as he downed the tablets in one, then took some sips of water. ‘Please. Sit down. We really must talk.’

It was almost a relief. It seemed that Hugo wanted to make their relationship clear as much as she did, and it was a grey area that Nell was feeling increasingly uncomfortable with. She put his tea on the table next to him and sat down on the sofa, reaching for her cup.

‘The first thing I need to say is that your job here is strictly confidential.’ Nell took a breath to protest that she knew all about doctor-patient confidentiality and he silenced her with a flash of his green eyes. ‘More so than usual. I don’t want anyone to know what your role is here or that I’m your patient.’

Nell felt her heart beat a little faster. ‘Is there a reason for that?’

‘Yes, there is. A very good reason.’

‘I’d like to know what that reason is, please.’ She injected as much firmness into her voice as she could.

Hugo smiled suddenly. If he was unused to anyone questioning his decisions, it didn’t seem to bother him all that much. ‘I imagine you’ve done your homework and that you know I’ve been working very hard in the last few years to raise awareness about heart disease and promote early treatment.’

‘I know that you’re the patron of a charity that has done a lot of work in the field...’ How much work Hugo had personally done hadn’t been made clear in the article she’d read.

For a moment, it seemed that finally she’d managed to offend him. And then he smiled. ‘I’m a doctor and it’s my mission. You have a mission?’

‘Yes. I suppose I do.’

‘Then you’ll understand the compelling nature of it. Weakness on my part can only undermine the message I’m trying to give.’

Nell swallowed hard, trying to clear the rapidly growing lump in her throat. ‘Or...it might be seen as a strength. That you understand...’

‘My job is to make things happen. And I’ll freely admit that I’m a prime example of someone who hasn’t followed the most basic advice and sought help at the first signs of any problem with my heart. Which is inexcusable, since I have a very clear understanding of what those signs are.’

So he couldn’t allow himself this. In Hugo’s mind, his illness gave him feet of clay. Nell might disagree, but it was his decision.

‘What you choose to share about your own medical issues is entirely up to you. Of course, I’ll say nothing.’

He nodded. ‘Thank you. I see from your CV that you’ve taken an interest in the psychological aspects of recovery from heart disease.’

Something about his tone gave Nell the impression that this irritated him. ‘Yes, that’s right. I did a module on the psychology of recovery at medical school, and when I decided to specialise in cardiac medicine, it seemed very relevant. I co-authored a study on patients’ post-operative experiences, in partnership with doctors from five other hospitals.’

‘I’d be interested in reading it.’ He turned the corners of his mouth down, and Nell felt her muscles in her stomach twist. Maybe he’d decided that questioning whether he needed a doctor wasn’t enough, and that he’d take a leaf from her ex-boss’s book and undermine her by questioning her professional ability.

She stared at him, wordlessly, and Hugo smiled suddenly. ‘I’d be interested to know which category of patient I fall into.’

That charm again. That smile, which seemed calculated to make Nell’s head spin and throw her off guard. ‘Psychology isn’t a matter of putting people into boxes, it’s a way of understanding what’s there. I’m sure you know that already.’

Perhaps she should mention that understanding exactly why Hugo was so desperate to pretend that there was nothing wrong with him would be a good start in getting him on the road to recovery. Or maybe she should wait until Hugo was ready to voice that idea for himself, even if scraping through the layers of charm and getting him to admit to anything seemed likely to be a long process.

‘Yes, I do. And please forgive me if my welcome has fallen short of expectations. Your presence here wasn’t my choice, it’s my father who thinks I need a minder.’

Nell swallowed down the temptation to take the bait. ‘I’m a doctor. If my duty of care to you, as my patient, makes me seem like a minder then...’ She shrugged.

Hugo leaned forward, the cushion at his side slipping to the floor. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and say it? I can take it.’

If he thought that she couldn’t look into his green eyes and say exactly what she meant, he was going to find out differently. Nell met his gaze and felt shivers run down her spine. Okay, so it was difficult to do. But not impossible.

‘If you think that I’m here to be your minder, then that says a lot more about your approach to this than it does mine.’

‘I suppose it does. But I want to make one thing clear. Duty to my father and professional courtesy to you require that I listen to your advice. But I have specific goals, in connection with a project at the hospital, that need to be met over the next six weeks. I won’t allow anything to get in the way of that.’

‘Even at the cost of your own health?’

‘I can handle it.’

The battle lines had been drawn, and in the heat of his gaze it felt almost exhilarating. Then Nell came to her senses.

In the last three weeks, Hugo had faced a crisis. If that appeared to have had no effect on him, then maybe that just meant he was more adept at covering his emotions than most. He was hurting and unable to trust his own body any more, and if his reaction to that was stubborn failure to face facts, it was her job to get him to a place where he felt strong enough to admit how he felt.

His smouldering green eyes were suddenly too much for her to bear, and she looked away. ‘Compromising on the way you get there doesn’t necessarily mean you have to abandon your goals. Let me help you.’

He thought for a moment. ‘What kind of compromise did you have in mind?’

Nell took a deep breath. This might be the first of many hurdles, but she’d made a start. ‘I don’t know yet. I’ll need to examine you first and hear exactly what your commitments are. Then we can talk about it.’

‘All right.’ He smiled suddenly, as if he’d just remembered that he ought to do so. ‘I’ll make an effort to be a model patient.’

Somehow Nell doubted that. ‘I appreciate the thought. But you’ve a long way to go before you qualify for the title of my most awkward patient.’

This time Hugo really smiled. ‘Shame. I’ll have to try harder.’

‘Yes, you will.’ Nell rose from her seat, picking the cushion up from the floor and putting it back in place, behind his shoulder. ‘You can plan your strategy while I go and get my medical bag.’

Maybe his father knew him better than Hugo had thought. His doctor at the hospital had been highly qualified, deferential, and had treated the whole thing as if it were an afternoon at a health spa. Nell was something different. Honest, no-nonsense and quite capable of cutting him down to size when he tried all the usual diversionary tactics.

Dr Penelope. He didn’t dare call her that, she’d told him she preferred Nell. Which was charming in its own way but didn’t seem to sum her up quite so well. Fierce, beautiful and unstoppable.

It was a little easier to think when she was out of the room. A little easier to remind himself of the flat in London, right at the top of a tenement block, where the lift sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t.

A little pang of regret for times that had seemed altogether simpler. The sofa that had creaked slightly under the weight of two people too tired to move and yet happy to just be together. The awful green bedspread that Anna had chosen, and which hadn’t matched the curtains but which Hugo had liked because she had. It had been the one time in Hugo’s life when duty hadn’t weighed heavy on his shoulders. All he’d needed to do was work hard at medical school and love the woman who shared his life.

He’d brought Anna back to Montarino, two newly minted doctors, full of so many possibilities and dreams. The ring on her finger had been replaced by something more befitting a princess, but Anna had always preferred the old one, which Hugo had saved for out of his allowance. It wasn’t until she’d left that Hugo had stopped to think that maybe she had been unhappy at the palace.

And that had been his doing. Anna had trained to be a doctor, not a princess. She had fitted the bill well enough, but it hadn’t been her mission in life. Hugo had been too intent on pursuing his own mission to see that until it had been too late and Anna had been packing her bags, a ticket back to London with her name on it lying on the bed.

‘If you’d just looked, Hugo, you would have seen that this isn’t enough for me. I have a career, too.’

There had been nothing that he could say because he had known in his heart that Anna was right. He’d let her go, and had watched from afar as she’d risen to the top of her chosen field, like a cork held underwater for too long and bouncing to the surface of a fast-flowing stream. One that had taken her away from him, and had never brought her back again.

Since then, Hugo had confined himself to women whose career aspirations were limited to being a princess. And if he hadn’t found anyone who truly understood him yet, then one of these days his duty would outweigh the yearning for love and he’d marry regardless. It had never made its way to the top of his to-do list, though, and it could wait.

The sound of a chair being pushed across the carpet towards his broke his reverie. It seemed that the doctor was ready for him now.

‘Would you unbutton your shirt for me, please?’ Nell sat down opposite him, briskly reaching into a small nylon bag to retrieve a stethoscope.

Suddenly he felt slightly dizzy. At the hospital, he’d submitted to one examination after the other, distancing himself from the doctors and nurses who quietly did their jobs while he thought about something else. But Nell was different. She challenged him, demanding that he take notice of what was happening to him.

‘My notes are...somewhere...’ He looked around, trying to remember where he’d left the envelope.

‘I have them. They were emailed through to me yesterday. I’d like to check on how you are now.’

Whether he’d managed to throw any spanners in the works. Her meaning shone clear in her light brown eyes, almost amber in the sunshine that streamed through the high windows.

He looked away from her gaze. Hugo had no qualms about his body, he knew that it was as good as the next man’s and that he didn’t have to think twice before he allowed anyone to see it. But things were different now. The new, unhealed scar felt like overwhelming evidence of his greatest weakness.

Nell sat motionless opposite him, clearly willing to wait him out if need be. He reached for the buttons of his shirt, his fingers suddenly clumsy.

* * *

Hugo was finding this hard. Nell pretended not to notice, twisting at the earpieces of her stethoscope as if she’d just found something wrong with them. The very fact that he seemed about to baulk at the idea of a simple examination told her that Hugo wasn’t as confident about his recovery as he liked to make out.

That was okay. Nell would have been more comfortable if she could maintain a degree of professional detachment too, but that wasn’t going to work. The main thing at the moment was to maintain their tenuous connection, because if that was lost then so was their way forward.

‘What about official engagements?’ She’d pretty much exhausted all the things that might be wrong with her stethoscope, and perhaps talking would put him at ease.

‘My father’s beaten you to it. He’s taken care of all my official engagements for the next month. There are various members of the family stepping in.’

‘I’ll have to be quicker off the mark next time,’ Nell commented lightly, trying not to notice that he was slipping his shirt off, revealing tanned skin and a mouth-wateringly impressive pair of shoulders. She concentrated on the dressing on Hugo’s chest, peeling it back carefully.

‘There’s still the hospital project.’ He shot her a grin and Nell felt her hands shake slightly. Being this close to Hugo added a whole new catalogue of ways in which he made her feel uneasy. The scent of his skin. The way she wanted to touch him...

‘What does that involve?’ Nell did her best to forget about everything else and concentrate on the surgical incision on Hugo’s chest.

‘We’re building a new wing at the hospital. It’s going to be a specialist cardiac centre, with outpatient services, a family resource department and a unit for long-stay paediatric patients.’

‘That sounds like a very worthwhile project.’

‘Yes, it is. And there’s no alternative but for me to be out there, raising money for it.’

‘There’s always an alternative...’ Nell murmured the words, clipping the stethoscope into her ears and pressing the diaphragm to his chest.

‘The work’s already started and we’ve run into some unforeseen problems. There’s an underground chamber that needs to be investigated and made safe. With men and equipment already on-site, every day of delay costs money, even without the cost of the new works. If we don’t raise that money, we can’t afford to complete the project.’

‘And you’re the only one who can do it?’

‘No, but I have the contacts to raise what we need in the time frame we need it. We’re looking for large donations.’

Nell frowned. There might be a grain of truth in Hugo’s assertion that he was indispensable and couldn’t take a break, although she still wasn’t ruling out the possibility that pig-headedness and ego were also factors. ‘I don’t know much about these things but...couldn’t your father help out with a loan?’

‘I’m sure he would have made a donation, and I would have, too. But the Constitution of Montarino forbids it.’

‘Really? You can’t give money to charity?’ Nell’s eyebrows shot up.

‘We can and we do, but it’s very strictly regulated. The royal family is only allowed to donate five percent of the total cost of a public endeavour, and that ceiling has almost been reached already. You can blame my great-great-grandfather for that—he tried to buy up key parts of the country’s infrastructure in an attempt to maintain his influence, and so the legislation was rushed through. For all the right reasons, in my opinion, but at the moment it’s an inconvenience.’

‘But it’s okay if you raise the money?’

‘Yes. History and politics always make things a great deal more complicated.’

As a doctor, this wasn’t complicated at all. But Nell could feel herself being dragged into a world of blurred lines. Hugo’s charm, the way her fingers tingled when she touched his skin. That was one line she couldn’t cross.

‘So you have to rest but you can’t. We’ll have to be creative...’

Hugo chuckled. ‘I’m beginning to like the way you think.’

‘Don’t start liking it too much. If your health’s at risk, I’m going to do everything I can to stop you.’

‘Noted. Does that mean I can do everything I can to stop you from stopping me?’

‘If that means you’re going to get enough rest, and make sure you don’t compromise your recovery, then feel free.’ This war of words was fast becoming a little too intimate. A little too much like the delicious push and pull of meeting someone who could become a very good friend.

But it worked. Hugo nodded, his hand drifting to his chest. ‘So what’s the verdict, then?’

‘Everything looks fine. You can see for yourself.’

He shook his head, and Nell realised that she hadn’t seen him look down at his chest once. ‘I’ll take your word for it. So...the day after tomorrow...’

‘What’s happening then?’

‘It’s a lunchtime fundraiser. I get to sit comfortably in the sun and make a two-minute speech. Actually, you could come along if you like.’

‘There are spare tickets?’

‘I’m your ticket.’

Nell gulped down the realisation that she’d be there as his plus-one. What mattered was that she’d be there, which meant that Hugo would have a doctor, and hopefully a restraining influence, on hand.

‘Okay. Let’s see how you are tomorrow and make the decision then.’ Twenty-four hours and a night’s sleep might just be enough time to get her head straight.

‘Fair enough.’ His green eyes seemed to see right through her. And it was worrying that when he turned his gaze onto her, his lips twitched into a smile.


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_94a1e48e-b831-59cc-8874-ffecb9fa10e4)

NELL HAD SPENT as much of the afternoon as she could unpacking. Laying things into neat piles and hanging dresses in the large wardrobe. Smoothing the already immaculate covers of the great bed, which would have dominated a smaller room but here was simply in proportion. It had been an exercise in restoring order, pushing back the chaos that seemed to follow Hugo like the scent of expensive aftershave.

He seemed intent on playing the host, inviting her for dinner in his apartment. Over a beautifully cooked and presented meal, Hugo talked about the charity that seemed so close to his heart. How they’d raised awareness about heart disease and increased the number of people who had regular ‘healthy heart’ checks. How they wanted to move forward and provide a centre of excellence, which would cater to both inpatients and outpatients, for all the people of Montarino.

It was a dazzling vision. And yet here, at the centre of it all, was a man who felt the need to risk his own health.

She returned to her apartment tired but unable to sleep. A long bath didn’t help, and neither did reading a book. Nell scarcely registered the words in front of her, because Hugo seemed to fill her mind, chasing everything else away. He’d said that he would be going straight to bed after she left, but when she went out into the darkness of the hallway she could still see a sliver of light escaping under the connecting door to his apartment.

She could hear Hugo’s voice, distant and muffled behind the heavy door. Either he was talking to himself or there was someone there.

Someone there. There were pauses, as if he was waiting for an answer and as Nell pressed her ear to the door she thought she heard another voice, this one too low and quiet for her to be even sure whether it was a woman or a man.

Whoever it was, they shouldn’t be there. It was midnight, and Hugo should be asleep by now. Nell’s hand trembled as she took hold of the door handle. Walking into his apartment and telling him to go to bed might be one step too far.

But they’d had an agreement. He’d promised. And Nell had believed him. The feeling of empty disappointment in him spurred her on.

‘Hugo...’ She opened the door an inch, and heard the soft sound of classical music, coming from the room beyond. ‘Are you still up?’

Silence. Then the door handle was pulled out of her grip as Hugo swung the door open, standing in the doorway and blocking her view of the sitting room.

‘This isn’t the time, Nell.’ He spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want the person behind him in the room to hear.

He obviously wanted some privacy and the thought struck Nell that his companion might be a woman. She felt her cheeks flush red. The last thing she wanted to do was come face-to-face with a girlfriend, who for some reason Hugo hadn’t seen fit to mention.

‘I’m...sorry, but we had a deal, Hugo.’

‘I’m aware of that. Something came up.’

‘That’s not good enough...’ Nell stopped herself from telling him that he should be in bed. In the circumstances, that might be a catalyst for even more exertion on his part. She felt her ears begin to burn at the thought.

‘It’s not what you’re thinking, Nell.’

‘Really? What do you think I’m thinking?’ If she really was that transparent then things had just gone from very bad to much worse.

‘What I’d be thinking. But on this occasion, we’d both be wrong.’ He stood back from the doorway, allowing her to see into the room. Two seats were drawn up to a games table, which had been set up by the fireplace, and an elderly man sat in one of them. He wore immaculately pressed pyjamas and held himself erect in his seat. When he turned towards Nell, his milky blue eyes seemed not quite to focus on her.

‘Jacob, we have a visitor. This is Nell.’

‘A pleasure, miss.’ The man spoke quietly, in heavily accented English. Despite his neat appearance, there was something vulnerable about him.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jacob.’ Nell went to advance into the room, but Hugo stepped back into her path.

‘Nell can’t stay...’ He threw the words over his shoulder, turning painfully to Nell and motioning to her to comply. She didn’t move.

Hugo took a step forward, and she took a step back, instinctively avoiding touching him. He pulled the door half shut behind them.

‘Jacob is...fragile.’ He was whispering, but Nell could hear both urgency and fatigue in his voice.

‘I can see that. But you need your sleep.’ Whispering back seemed rather too conspiratorial for Nell’s liking but having Jacob hear what was going on didn’t seem like a good idea.

‘I’ll take him back to his apartment as soon as I can.’

‘No, Hugo. You said we’d take things as they came and that you’d accept my help. Let’s give that a trial run now, shall we?’ Hugo hesitated and she glared at him. ‘I’m not going to walk in there and order him out.’

Silently he walked back through the doorway, and Nell followed him. Jacob turned to Hugo, a fond smile on his face. ‘Hugo, my boy... What’s going on?’

‘Nothing. It’s all right, Jacob. I’ve asked Nell to join us.’

‘Very good.’ Jacob seemed to approve of the plan, gesturing towards the draughts, which lay on the chequerboard tabletop. ‘You play, miss?’

‘Not very well.’ Nell smiled at him.

‘Jacob taught me to play thirty years ago.’ Hugo went to pull up a chair for Nell and thought better of it, allowing her to move it across to the table. ‘I used to sneak downstairs when my parents were out in the evening, and we’d play draughts and drink hot chocolate.’

‘Hot chocolate!’ Jacob’s eyes lit up suddenly, and he gestured towards the pot that lay on the coffee table, along with two gold-rimmed cups and saucers. ‘I remember now. Would you like some, miss?’

Maybe that would bring the evening to a close. ‘Thank you. I’ll get another cup, shall I?’

Nell glanced at Hugo, and he nodded, resuming his seat opposite Jacob. His smile barely concealed his fatigue and he was moving as if he was in pain. The sooner they could end, this the better.

As Nell walked to the kitchen, she heard the two men talking quietly in French behind her.

‘Who is she, Hugo?’

‘She’s a doctor, and her name’s Nell.’

Hugo repeated the words, no hint in his tone that this wasn’t the first time he’d told Jacob.

‘A doctor? What does she want?’ Jacob’s voice took on an air of perplexed worry.

‘She’s here for me. Not you, my friend.’Hugo’s tone was smooth, reassuring.

‘Where’s she going?’

‘Just to get another cup. We’re having hot chocolate.’

‘Ah, yes. Hot chocolate and draughts...’

Jacob’s memory had become fragmented by time. Some things were still clear in his mind, but he was groping in the dark, trying to make sense of others. It was common in patients who had dementia, and it was clear that Hugo was trying to reassure Jacob by re-creating the sights and sounds of things he did remember. The sound the counters made on the draughts board. The taste of hot chocolate. But that was all coming with a cost to him.

She fetched the cup and re-joined the two men, wondering whether Hugo knew that she’d heard and understood their conversation. Smiling, she poured the hot chocolate and sat down. Jacob moved one of his pieces and Hugo chuckled quietly.

‘You have me...’ He made the only move possible, and Jacob responded by taking four of his counters in one go.

‘Another game?’ The old man still seemed wide awake, and Nell wondered how long this was going to go on before he tired and they could take him back to wherever he’d come from.

Hugo nodded, and Nell shot him a frown. He couldn’t do this all night, but it appeared that he was perfectly capable of trying if it kept Jacob happy.

‘Will you teach me, please? I know how to play, but I don’t know the tactics.’

‘Of course, mademoiselle.’ Perhaps Jacob had forgotten her name again, but he remembered how to play draughts, and that was the way that Nell could keep him occupied while Hugo rested.

Hugo stood, giving Nell his seat, and retreated to the sofa. As she and Jacob set out the pieces, ready to play, he seemed to be dozing.

At least Hugo was relaxing, now. As they played, Jacob became animated, suggesting better moves to Nell, slipping from French into English and then back again, sometimes in the course of one sentence. Finally he began to tire.

‘Hugo’s tired. He’s ready to go to bed now.’ Nell nodded towards Hugo. If Jacob had known him since he was a boy, then he would also remember taking care of him, and some part of that relationship would still exist somewhere in his head.

‘Is it time?’ Jacob glanced around the room and then at his own attire. ‘It must be. I’m wearing my pyjamas.’

That posed a second problem. Nell had no idea who Jacob was or where he’d come from. But Jacob turned, calling softly to Hugo.

‘Wake up, lad. Time to go to bed.’

Instantly, Hugo’s eyes were open and he roused himself. Jacob clearly came first, however tired he was. ‘Let’s go.’

* * *

Nell was perfect. Hugo had been prepared to exert his authority and order her out of his apartment, but she’d realised Jacob’s situation very quickly and had played along. More than that, she’d taken charge, allowing Hugo to relax and get comfortable. Despite all his efforts to conceal it, he had to admit that he was very tired.

He led the way through the quiet corridors of the palace, Nell and Jacob arm in arm behind him. As he ushered them through one of the back doors and across the small courtyard towards the neat row of cottages used by palace employees, he wondered whether she’d be quite as gentle and understanding when Jacob was no longer within earshot.

It took Celeste a while to answer the door, and when she did so she was bleary-eyed, pulling on her dressing gown. Looking after Jacob was becoming a twenty-four-hour-a-day task for her, and she’d clearly been fast asleep when Hugo had texted her to say that Jacob was with him. He waved away her apologies and said goodnight, hearing Nell’s voice behind him echoing the sentiment.

The door closed and he turned to Nell, watching as the smile slipped from her face. That capable, no-nonsense expression didn’t fail to send a tingle down his spine, even if he was far too tired to make the best of whatever conflict was brewing.

‘So, Jacob wanders at night?’ She walked next to him back across the courtyard.

‘Yes. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything about it.’

He couldn’t see the flash of her eyes in the darkness, but imagined it there. ‘This place is full of secrets, isn’t it? How long do you think you can cover this up?’

‘I don’t need very long. Before I went into hospital, I was talking to Celeste about getting a carer for him at night so that she could get some sleep. I contacted her after I was taken ill and she said that things were okay and she was managing on her own.’ He turned the corners of his mouth down. Clearly things hadn’t been okay, and Celeste had just not wanted him to worry.

‘Celeste’s his daughter?’

‘Yes. Jacob came to work here at the palace when he was sixteen, it’s the only home he knows. My father’s always said that he and Celeste have a place here for as long as they want.’

‘So why all the secrecy?’ Nell frowned, clearly bothered by it.

‘When he heard that Jacob had been wandering at night, my father went to see Celeste and mentioned to her that a nursing home might be the right place for Jacob, and offered to pay the bills. Celeste took that as a royal command...’

‘But he was really just trying to help.’ Nell gave Hugo’s father the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Hugo should, too.

‘I’m sure he was. But Celeste doesn’t think it’s the right thing for Jacob and neither do I. Like I said, this is his only home and he’d be even more disorientated than he is now in a new place.’

‘Okay. Let me get this clear.’ Nell stopped suddenly in the middle of the courtyard, and Hugo felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. They were in full view of the palace, and he didn’t take anonymity for granted the way that Nell obviously did. He saw a light flip on, and then back off again. Probably nothing.

‘Your father thinks that the best place for Jacob is a nursing home, and you think it’s best for him to stay here.’ Hugo dragged his attention back to what Nell was saying. ‘So instead of talking to him about it, you’re going to get a night carer in, see if that works and then tell your father about it.’

When she put it like that it didn’t sound the best way of doing things. But then Nell didn’t know his father. ‘Yes. That’s essentially it.’

She held up her hands in a gesture of resignation. ‘Okay. You have an agency in mind, where you can get this carer?’

‘Yes...’ Hugo had wondered how he was going to break the news to her that tomorrow he’d be busy making those arrangements.

‘Right. Give the details to me. I can do an assessment of Jacob and talk to Celeste about what she thinks is best in the morning, and we’ll get things moving. If we can get someone in for tomorrow night, then Celeste can get some sleep and think better about her long-term options.’

Her tone brooked no argument, which was generally like a red rag to a bull where Hugo was concerned. But Nell was right. And although he’d only known Nell for a matter of hours, he trusted her. She’d take good care of his old friend.

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’ He started to walk towards the back door of the palace, where they’d be out of sight of anyone who happened to be traversing one of the rear corridors.

‘That, of course, is dependent on your not taking advantage of my being busy elsewhere to do something you shouldn’t.’ Nell caught up with him.

‘Of course.’ He opened the door for her and she walked through.

‘I’d feel happier if you said it.’

He could see her face now, shining in the dim light of the corridor. A little humour mixed with the kind of determined compassion that he reckoned must make her a very good doctor.

‘My mother’s intending to cheer me up over lunch tomorrow. You can hand her the keys to the ball and chain if you want.’ Nell raised her eyebrows and he sighed. ‘If you’d be good enough to see Jacob in the morning, you have my word of honour that I’ll rest.’

A stab of guilt accompanied the thought that he’d been a little hard on Nell. For the last two weeks, he’d gritted his teeth and submitted as gracefully as he could to the authority of his doctors and nurses and the limitations his own labouring heart had put on him. Yesterday morning, when he’d arrived back at the palace, he’d resolved to leave all that behind. He had to get back to normal as quickly as possible if he was to achieve the goals he’d set himself.

None of that had anything to do with Nell, though. She had a job to do, and when she smiled at him, everything else seemed to retreat back into obscurity.

‘Thank you.’ She gave him a now we’re getting somewhere smile. Maybe they were.


CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_4cf3c95d-5cbb-56eb-8da9-9e6e1f723398)

HUGO LOOKED RESTED and relaxed. Like someone who had spent yesterday in his apartment doing nothing in particular while Nell assessed Jacob and made all the arrangements for a carer to come and help Celeste. Which was just as Nell wanted things to be.

But today was sure to bring new challenges. Hugo had wished her a good morning, and Nell had responded by picking up his car keys and giving him a lecture about staying within his limits. Ted, his bodyguard, had flashed her a quiet smile and got into the front passenger seat of Hugo’s car, while she fiddled with the driver’s seat, pulling it forward.

‘Remember to drive on the left.’ Hugo’s quiet voice had sounded from the back of the car, and she’d ignored him, slipping off her high sandals and starting the car.

Ted directed her through the morning traffic to a large house, set back from the road and gleaming white in the sunshine. She’d followed the ushers’ signals and parked the car between two others, which would have cost her the approximate value of her own flat had she been careless enough to scratch them.

‘You look very nice.’ Hugo bent towards her as they walked together to the circle of awnings laid out behind the house.

‘Thank you.’ On the basis that she couldn’t compete with anyone here, Nell had decided on a plain dress with no jewellery. That seemed to fit well enough with Hugo’s approach, a grey suit with a white open-necked shirt. No signet rings, no diamond tie pins. 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 was it. She was about to spend an unknown sum of Hugo’s money just to have his company for the weekend and ensure he didn’t over-exert himself, something she was being paid to do anyway. The doctor’s common room would have had a field day with that, but suddenly she couldn’t have cared less. This felt like an adventure, one that might wipe away all the slights that had hurt her so over the last year.

As soon as the bidding started, three women held their cards up. The auctioneer managed to come to a decision over who had bid first, and as his finger moved briskly to and fro the price began to rocket upwards.

Nell saw Hugo’s head turn towards her, and caught a glimpse of his worried expression. Then she held up her card, waving it to attract the auctioneer’s attention.

‘Two thousand from the lady on the right...’ Nell felt slightly giddy at the idea that she was spending this much money.

There were many more rounds of determined bidding and one by one her rivals shook their heads. When the auctioneer rapped his hammer, an unexpected burst of exhilaration made Nell catch her breath. A few people looked round at her as Hugo leaned towards her, smiling.

‘I thought for a moment you were going to let me down. Do I detect an element of risk-taking in your approach?’

Let him think that. If this was an exercise in each keeping the other off-balance, it couldn’t do any harm. Nell gave him a smile and reached for her glass, which had been refilled at some point during the bidding. Clearly one of the attentive waiters had thought she might need it.

Hugo’s lot was the highlight of the afternoon. There were a couple more, to round things off, and then the ring of a silver spoon against a crystal glass called for quiet as their hostess got to her feet. She thanked everyone for being there, and introduced Hugo.

He got to his feet, smiling, and Nell saw more than one person smile back. Taking a sheet of paper from his pocket, Hugo scanned it and then tore it in two.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, I had a speech prepared, but I find that there’s little more I can do to add to this afternoon.’

Nell took a sip of her champagne. This sounded pretty much par for the course. This afternoon was all about delighting in smoke and mirrors, not getting to grips with the serious issues.

‘First, I’d like to thank Yvette, our hostess today...’ He paused as a round of applause ran around the tables, and Yvette nodded a smiling acknowledgement. ‘Second, I’d like to thank you all for your generosity.’

He paused. Five seconds’ silence, which was enough to catch everyone’s attention. Hugo’s timing was impressive.

‘You all deserve to know what that generosity means. Under your placemats, you’ll find a leaflet...’ He held up a glossy trifold, and Nell looked under her place mat and found one just like it. ‘We’re not in the business of bricks and mortar, or of reputation, although we’re rightly proud of Montarino Hospital’s record of excellence. We deal in people.’

Hugo’s gaze dropped suddenly to the trifold in his hand. Almost against her own will, Nell opened her own copy of the leaflet, seeking out the photograph inside that he seemed to be studying. A little girl in a pink dress, cuddling a battered teddy bear. She was smiling, reaching for someone or something behind the camera.

‘I’ll let these photographs tell you how much your kindness means. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.’

Hugo sat down abruptly, seeming to be almost overcome by emotion. Applause ran around the tables, followed by a buzz of conversation, which seemed to be centred around the leaflets in everyone’s hands.

It was a great speech. Short and to the point, and tugging nicely at the heartstrings. Nell had noticed that he’d put the paper he’d torn in half safely back into his pocket. She wondered vaguely if there had ever been anything written on it.

It didn’t matter. If Nell had seen the reality of heart disease, and knew that it wasn’t all smiles and teddy bears, that wasn’t what today was about. She’d lost count of the amount of money that had been raised, and it seemed the auction was just the tip of the iceberg.

A middle-aged man in a silk suit had approached their table, and Hugo had turned in his seat to talk to him. He pressed a folded cheque into Hugo’s hand.

‘Thank you, Henri. We’ll use this well.’

The woman standing next to Henri spoke. ‘Next time, I insist on being the hostess, Your Highness.’

Hugo hesitated. ‘You’re too kind, Justine. Think about it...’

‘No, I don’t need to think about it. I’ve thought about things for too long and it’s about time I did something.’

‘I’ll have Nathalie contact you, then. She’ll talk through all the options with you.’

‘I think I have an idea that will be perfect.’ Justine brushed off any other options with a wave of her hand.

Henri smiled suddenly. ‘We must be going. It seems that my wife has a plan that needs my attention.’

‘You shouldn’t work so hard, Hugo...’ Justine frowned suddenly at Hugo and caught Nell’s eye, reverting to English. ‘Take him away, my dear. He is neglecting his responsibilities to you.’

Nell smiled, not knowing quite what to say, and Hugo bade the couple goodbye. When he turned, his face was suddenly ashen and drawn. This was the first time that Nell had seen Hugo betray any weakness, and he was obviously tired.

Nell leaned towards him, speaking quietly. ‘We’re going. Now.’ She injected as little room for argument into her tone as possible.




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