Working For The Prince

‘What about Lord Cavendish?’

‘He was distraught when Jonathan’s mother died. But his way of dealing with it was to throw himself into work. He couldn’t see that Jonathan needed him more than ever. Then six months after Jonathan’s mother died, Lord Cavendish returned from an overseas trip married to the second Lady Cavendish. That didn’t last too long. He divorced the third wife a year or so ago, and now it looks as if he’s preparing to marry again.’

‘His fourth marriage?’ Rose couldn’t keep the shock from her voice. ‘Surely that’s a little excessive?’

‘Ah, well. He always did have an eye for the women.’ She moved her gaze back to the window and her eyes glistened. ‘I don’t think he’s ever got over the first Lady Cavendish. Now, she was a real lady. Not in the sense of being from aristocracy, you understand, her own background was quite humble, but in terms of knowing how to treat people.’ She pointed a gnarled finger to the floor. ‘That woman will never compete in a hundred years.’

There was a tap at the door and Jonathan walked into the room. With a guilty start, Rose realised she had been gossiping.

‘How’s my favourite girl, then?’ Jonathan said. ‘Has Rose managed to talk you into going to the hospital?’

Before Mary had a chance to protest, Rose interrupted smoothly. ‘I think Mary will agree to go to the hospital. She’s just a wee bit worried that your father will replace her while she’s away.’

It looked as if a thundercloud had descended on Jonathan’s face. ‘Whatever gave you that idea? I agree you could do with more help, but no one is thinking of replacing you. This house would fall down without you to look after it—and us. You’ve been here as long as I can remember. It’s your home, Mary. Don’t ever forget that.’

Mary looked relieved but then her mouth puckered. ‘But it’s not just to do with you, Master Jonathan, is it? At least, not for some time. Right now your father makes the decisions, and if he marries again, it’ll be the new Lady Cavendish’s wishes that take precedence.’

‘My father might have his faults, Mary, Lord knows, but he’ll never agree to replacing you.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I had no idea he was planning to marry again.’

‘Now, don’t you go saying anything,’ Mary protested. ‘It’s not official yet. At least, he’s not said as much. It’s just I heard his guest speaking on the phone. She was telling them not to make plans for the summer because she was planning a big party.’

Jonathan’s lips thinned. ‘You leave my father to me, Mary. Come on, I’m going to drive you to the hospital. They’re expecting us. If you want to get a few things together, I’ll let my father know what’s happening.’ He turned to Rose. ‘I can’t apologise enough, but there’s only room in my car for Mary and I. If I ask my father to take you to the railway station, would you manage to find your own way home from there?’

‘Of course. Really, it’s no problem.’ She smiled. ‘It’s far more important that Mary gets investigated, and the sooner the better.’ She got to her feet. ‘We’ll leave you alone to pack your things, Mary. Take your time. There’s no rush.’

Jonathan still looked livid when they left Mary. ‘I need to go and find my father. It shouldn’t take too long. Would you like to wait downstairs?’

‘I think I’ll take a stroll in the garden while I’m waiting. And if it’s inconvenient for your father to take me to the station, perhaps you can call me a taxi?’

‘He’ll take you,’ Jonathan responded grimly. ‘One thing you can say about my father is that his manners are impeccable.’

The grounds of the hall were as lavish as the inside. Rose kept close to the house in case she was needed. To her right, a small rose-coloured archway invited her to explore. She dipped her head and entered a small hidden garden. She gasped with pleasure. Someone had taken the time to make this little spot less formal than the rest of the gardens. It was a mass of flowers and the smell of rosemary, lavender and mint drifted up her nostrils. Seeing a bench with views out to the open hills off to one side, Rose took a seat and closed her eyes.

Something was badly wrong between Jonathan and his father. She wondered if he’d have taken her to the house, or even to the gatehouse, if he’d known his father was at home. Somehow she felt sure he wouldn’t have. How could someone not get on with their father? Especially when he was the only family member Jonathan had left. Rose couldn’t remember ever having cross words with her parents.

She was beginning to realise that Jonathan was a much more complex man than she had ever imagined and she knew that every moment she spent with him she was falling deeper and deeper in love. The realisation was not a welcome one.

Voices drifted from the open window behind her. She recognised Jonathan’s and his father’s. Both men sounded heated.

‘How can you think of marrying yet again?’ Jonathan’s voice was raised.

‘What I choose to do with my life is none of your goddamn business. And speaking of marriage, when are you going to stop seducing every woman on the planet and get into a real relationship? You can’t carry on the way you do for the rest of your life. At some point you’re going to accept you have responsibilities.’

‘That’s rich, coming from you.’

Rose got to her feet. The last thing she wanted was to overhear the argument between father and son. She started to edge away from the window.

‘What about that prissy little thing you brought with you? She looks like she has a sensible head. Why, for God’s sake, can’t you find someone like her to settle down with?’

Rose froze in mid-stride. This was so embarrassing. How dare Lord Cavendish refer to her as prissy? Even if she supposed there was an element of truth in the description. But she had to admit she was dying to know how Jonathan would respond.

‘Rose? As the future Lady Cavendish?’ Jonathan laughed harshly. ‘Now you mention it, she’d be a lot more suitable than the last two you chose to marry. At least she has brains and a kind heart under that prissy exterior, as you call it. I can tell you she’s worth a hundred of the women you married after Mother.’

Lord Cavendish dropped his voice and Rose could hear the sadness and regret in it. ‘Why are we always arguing, son? You know I need your help. I’m not getting any younger and running my businesses as well as this estate is getting too much.’

‘Are you all right? You’ve not being feeling ill, have you? When did you last have a check-up?’ This time it was Jonathan’s voice that was full of concern. Despite their earlier angry words, Rose could tell the two men cared about one another.

‘I’m fine. I promise. I’d feel a lot better if I knew that you were settling down. You can’t keep on living the way you do. God, man, your name is in the paper every other day. Always with a different woman. You need to get married—have children. I need to know before I die that there is going to be someone to carry on the family line.’

‘You’re a fine person to talk.’ The anger was back in Jonathan’s voice. ‘Is that why you married Mother? Just to provide an heir for the future? My God, didn’t you love her at all?’

‘Love her? Of course I loved her. She was the best thing that ever happened to me.’

‘Which is why you married again within six months of her death.’

Rose couldn’t bear to hear any more. She tiptoed away until she could no longer hear the voices and waited by the front door of the house. She was tingling as she recalled the words Jonathan had used to describe her. Kind and clever. Well, she hoped she was. But she would have liked to hear herself described as beautiful and sexy as well, even if it was untrue. This way she felt like Jonathan’s sister and that wasn’t how she wanted him to see her at all. She wanted someone to find her exciting and interesting. She wanted Jonathan to find her exciting and interesting. If she didn’t have a future, she wanted a here and now. And why not? Where had playing safe got her? She felt her blood heat her veins. Prissy. She’d give them prissy. She could be as exciting and interesting as the next woman and with a bit of help—possibly a lot of help—she could do sexy as well. It was as if she’d been sleeping up until the moment she’d realised her life could be snatched away at any time. Now she wanted to wake up and experience life before it was too late. And who better to show her that life than Jonathan Cavendish? After all, it wasn’t as if she could break his heart.

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