‘Haven’t we just had dinner?’

‘Yes, but I saw the toasting fork and I need to try it. And now I’m feeling like crumpets, too.’

The fire was blazing. ‘How much wood are you using?’ she said before she thought about it and Max cast her a look of soulful reproach.

‘There’s more where it came from and the least you can do is make a guest feel warm.’

‘You’re no guest.’ She was feeling desperate and desperate times called for desperate measures. Or bluntness at least. ‘You’re here to take Marc.’

‘Don’t dramatise. You know I can’t do that. You’re Marc’s guardian. Well done?’

She blinked. ‘Sorry?’

‘How do you like your crumpet?’ he asked patiently. ‘I’m getting good at this. The first crumpets ended up in the fire-this toasting fork has no holding power. But the last one I made was excellent. You can have this one. Do you like it slightly singed or charcoal-black?’

‘We’ll be out of wood again by the end of the week, and I’m not letting you buy more.’

‘I’m hoping you’ll be in Alp d’Estella by the end of the week.’

Pippa took a deep breath. Things were happening way too fast.

‘We’re not going to Alp d’Estella. You can’t have Marc.’

‘He has a birthright,’ Max said, flipping his crumpet.

‘Maybe he has, but it’s here.’ She closed her eyes. The effort she’d been making since Max had arrived slipped a little. Her vocals in the dairy had been a last-ditch attempt to find control and it hadn’t worked.

She felt so tired she wanted to sleep for a month.

‘Pippa, this is impossible,’ Max said, laying his crumpet down, rising and pushing her into the chair he’d just vacated. ‘Tell me why you’re doing this?’

‘Doing…what?’

‘Trying to keep this farm going against impossible odds.’

‘It’s all the children have,’ she whispered. ‘It’s all I have.’

‘I don’t understand.’ He shifted the sleeping Dolores sideways. Dolores didn’t so much as open an eye. He hauled another chair up beside her and sat down. ‘I need background.’

‘It’s none-’

‘It is my business,’ he said gently. ‘It seems to me that I’m the only relation these kids have. Now that doesn’t give me any rights,’ he said hurriedly as he saw alarm flit across her face. ‘But it does make me concerned, succession to the throne or not. Tell me about you. About this whole family.’

She hesitated. She shouldn’t tell him. What good would it do? But he was looking at her with eyes that said he was trying to understand, that he might even want to help. The sensation was so novel that she was suddenly close to tears.

She fought them back. No way was she crying in front of him.

‘Why is the farm so poor?’ he asked.

‘I told you,’ she said, rattled. ‘The vats are contaminated.’

‘You were poor before that.’

‘It’s not a wealthy farm.’

‘And?’

‘And Gina and Donald didn’t have insurance. They couldn’t afford it. Then the medical costs for Gina and the twins were exorbitant, as was paying someone to keep this place going until I could cope. I’m paying that off still.’

‘Is the farm freehold?’

‘There are still debts.’

‘But a sizeable chunk is paid for?’

‘Yes.’

‘According to the ladies in the Tanbarook supermarket you could sell it tomorrow.’

‘I could,’ she said and bit her lip. ‘Actually I have two buyers. The developers who want to use it as a road, or the Land for Wildlife Foundation. There’s a project going to make a wilderness corridor from the coast to the mountains north of here, and this place would be an important link.’ She managed a smile. ‘They’d pay less but if it was up to me I’d sell the land to them.’ Her smile faded. ‘But of course it’s not up to me.’

‘Why not?’ He frowned. ‘You could sell, to whoever you choose to sell to, and you could take another nursing job.’ Then as she started to protest he placed his finger on her lips. It was a weird gesture of intimacy that felt strangely right for here. For now. ‘Hush,’ he told her. ‘I’m not stupid. I accept you won’t leave the children. But I’d assume you could get a reasonable income from nursing, and the farm would bring in something. That must mean you could have a life where you’d at least be warm and well fed.’

‘The kids’ inheritance is the farm. That’s all they have.’

‘I disagree. They have you. An inheritance isn’t worth starving for.’

‘You don’t think it’s important?’

‘Not that much.’

‘Then why are you going to this trouble to make sure Marc inherits this principality?’

He hesitated. Then he spread his hands, as if deciding to tell all. ‘There are lives at stake.’

She stared. ‘That sounds ridiculous.’

‘It’s true.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘Why?’

‘If there’s no Crown Prince then the country reverts to political rule, which at the moment would practically be a dictatorship. That’s why you haven’t heard of Marc’s inheritance before this. The politicians want nothing more than for the royal succession to die and for them to be in sole charge. The local farmers are being bled dry with taxes as it is. If it gets worse…well, I’m not overstating it when I say there will be starvation.’

‘But that’s…that’s crazy. Marc can’t have anything to do with that.’

‘He doesn’t need to. He simply needs to be allowed to take on the title. The rest can be managed around him.’ He hesitated, and then forged on. ‘Because my mother was still married to Edouard when I was born and because I was half-brother to Thiérry, I can accept the role of Prince Regent. That means until Marc is twenty-one, I can make decisions for him. We can get the country back on track.’

‘But…’ she shook her head ‘…this is nonsense. How can I possibly expose Marc to something so weird?’

‘It’s not so weird,’ he said and smiled. ‘It’s lovely. You could come for a holiday and see. When did you last have a holiday?’

She stared at him blankly.

His smile faded. ‘When, Pippa?’

‘I…when I was nursing I’d come here sometimes and help.’

‘Have you ever taken the children on a holiday?’

‘No, but-’

‘Alp d’Estella’s in the middle of summer right now,’ he said persuasively. ‘The castle’s great.’

‘Claire says it’ll have dragons.’

‘Dragons?’

‘All castles have dragons,’ she said, distracted. ‘Or at least something scary.’ She shook her head as if trying to clear fog. ‘You want Marc to be Crown Prince? He’s far too young to be anything of the kind.’

‘It’s Crown Prince in name only. Until he’s of age the responsibility is mine.’ He hesitated. ‘Pippa, I know Alice didn’t trust the royal family, but the old line is dead. Marc represents the new line. A new hope for the future.’

She took a deep breath. ‘It sounds nonsensical,’ she whispered. ‘How can I possibly trust you?’

‘You don’t need to trust me,’ Max said, steadily, as if he wasn’t offended and had in fact anticipated her qualms. ‘I’ve set my credentials before your Minister of International Affairs and he’ll vouch for my integrity. My mother also knows your countrywoman, Jessica, who married my neighbour, Raoul, Crown Prince of Alp d’ Azuri. I believe your women’s magazines have written her up, so maybe you’ve heard of her? Jessie’s pregnant and blissfully happy, but she’s not so tied up in her own contentment that she doesn’t interest herself in the affairs of her neighbours. Both she and her husband have sent their personal assurance that Marc will be safe. They guarantee that if you don’t think it’s satisfactory then you’re free to take Marc and leave. At any time.’

She blinked. She had indeed heard of Jessica, the Australian fashion designer who by all reports was living happily ever after in her fairy-tale palace with her handsome prince. The Princess Jessica had written her an assurance? The whole thing was unbelievable.

There were so many questions. She could only manage a little one. An important one. ‘It’s warm?’

He smiled. ‘It’s warm,’ he said softly. ‘Not only that, we have three swimming pools-a lap pool, an outdoor recreational pool and one indoors and heated for inclement weather. Not that it’ll be inclement at this time of the year. It’ll be beautiful.’

He was seducing her with sunshine. She had to keep her head.

‘You would be able to leave,’ he added, gently but definitely, and his big hands came out and covered hers. ‘I promise, Pippa. I’m asking that you come for a month. One month. Then you’ll know the facts. You’ll know what’s on offer. You can make up your mind from a position of knowledge.’

‘But the cost,’ Pippa said weakly. She should pull her hands away but she couldn’t make herself do it.

‘It’s taken care of already.’ Then as she looked startled the pressure on her hands intensified. There was no way it should make her feel secure and safe, but stupidly it did. ‘Pippa, I know I’m pushing you,’ he said. ‘But I’m in a hurry. The succession has to be worked out fast. Yes, you have some thinking to do but you can’t think without having seen what’s on offer. A sensible woman would come.’

‘Sometimes I’m not sensible,’ she said and she glowered and his smile changed a little, genuine amusement behind his eyes.

‘I can see that. But maybe your sensible side will out?’

She stared at him, nonplussed. The lurking twinkle was dangerous, she thought. Really dangerous.

Concentrate on practicalities. ‘But there’s passports and things…’

‘I have friends in high places. I can have passports in twenty-four hours.’

‘Twenty-four hours? Are you some kind of magician?’

‘Just a man who’s determined to have you see what you need to see.’

She was dumbfounded. ‘But…the cows,’ she whispered at last, and Max grinned as if that was the last quibble out of the way.

‘I talked to Bert. He’ll be more than happy to take over the milking for now. I gather he did it before? He’ll use his dairy and his vats are clean, so he can be paid for the milk. No obligation, he said, and why would there be? He’ll even milk Peculiar.’