‘You’ll have to excuse us,’ he told the assemblage and there were more cheers and laughter.
Vaguely Jess was aware of Marcel, glaring at her with hatred from the corner of the room. But it didn’t matter. How could anything matter when Raoul was holding her like this?
Or maybe it did matter. Maybe Marcel’s awfulness was the simple reason why Raoul was holding her like this.
But Raoul was still speaking. ‘You need to excuse us,’ Raoul said again, and the whole room hushed. ‘I need to take my bride to bed.’
CHAPTER TEN
HE DIDN’T take her to her bedroom.
They reached the turn in the corridor she knew and he turned left and not right.
‘Hey,’ she said and wriggled, and his hold on her tightened.
‘Yes, my darling?’
‘I am not your darling,’ she told him.
In reply he stooped and kissed her, effectively silencing her. Then, with his mouth only half an inch from hers, he whispered, ‘Hush, my love. We’re being followed.’
‘Followed?’
She glanced back over his shoulder. No easy feat this, glancing over the shoulder of the man who was carrying her. It involved a certain amount of contortion as he wasn’t loosening his hold and she felt a little like a minnow enveloped in a sea of embroidered satin-but somehow she did it.
There were men in the corridor behind them. Suits. There were suits following them?
‘Um…who?’
‘It’s the Minister for the Crown,’ he told her, ‘and his minions.’
That jolted her. Badly.
‘Please tell me they’re not intending to watch,’ she demanded, and he smiled.
‘No. We’re not in the Dark Ages.’
‘Then why are they here?’
‘They’ll settle outside the bedroom door and check we stay together overnight.’
‘Who said you’re not in the Dark Ages?’
‘It’s better than them watching. It’s a compromise and if we don’t agree to their presence then our wedding may be deemed not to be consummated.’ He hesitated. ‘There’d be no problem if you agreed to stay forever. Jess, I’d really like you to consider the advantages. You know, there are advantages-for all of us. Resettling here, bringing your work here, having us take care of you… But if you’re intent on leaving…’
For heaven’s sake, what was he proposing? ‘Of course I’m leaving.’
‘Then Marcel will fight to have the marriage annulled. I told you this.’
‘Yeah, but I didn’t really believe you,’ she said darkly. ‘It seemed a bit of a joke. Raoul…’
‘Let’s just go with the flow, shall we?’
She was so confused-but how could she not go with the flow? When he was holding her tightly against him? When he was making her feel…?
Ridiculous?
No. Not ridiculous. But there were no words to describe how she was feeling right now.
‘So where are you taking me?’
‘To the bridal chamber,’ he said, smiling his reassurance.
‘The bridal chamber!’
‘Just shut up and be appreciative,’ he told her. ‘You’re a princess for a night. Why not lie back and enjoy it?’
‘I’ll stand up, thank you very much.’
‘If you like.’ He grinned. ‘Whatever takes your fancy.’
‘Raoul…’
‘Yes, dear?’
‘You’re asking for your ears to be boxed.’
‘Not in front of witnesses,’ he told her. ‘Let’s wait until we get behind closed doors and then you can do anything to me that you want. I promise.’
Which left her speechless.
Her speechless state lasted until she reached the bridal chamber. Then she opened her mouth to speak, but discovered she was speechless all over again.
Marcel’s edict that no staff work in the castle must have gone out the window the moment it was realised that Raoul was married. Now two uniformed footmen flung open a pair of ornate oak doors. They ushered the newly marrieds inside, and closed the doors behind them.
Jess tried to say thank you-and failed.
From the firm hold of her husband’s arms, she gazed around and she gasped in stunned wonder.
‘Christopher Columbus,’ she breathed at last, and Raoul smiled. In truth, he looked more than a little gobsmacked himself. ‘Raoul, put me down.’
He did-but it seemed he did so reluctantly. And she stood, but she missed the feel of his arms.
Concentrate on the room, she told herself fiercely. Concentrate on the apartment.
It was certainly worth concentrating on.
Vast and opulent, the rooms dripped with crimson velvet and white satin canopies. Huge white settees were piled with white velvet cushions. More cushions were scattered over the floor-mounds and mounds of cushions on a carpet that was so thick that the pile hid her toes.
A huge fireplace blazed out a gentle heat, warming every corner.
What else? There were balloons, glistening white and silver and tied in vast bunches with white satin ribbon. Someone must have been working here all day putting the final touches to this opulent glory.
She gazed around her in wonder. The bathroom led off to the left. There was a sunken bathtub, as big as a small swimming pool, gently steaming and infinitely inviting. The tub was in the shape of a Botticelli shell.
‘That’s indecent,’ she said, and Raoul raised his brows and wiggled them in suggestive laughter.
‘It looks pretty damned good to me,’ he told her. ‘And it’s not indecent until we’re in it. Doing stuff.’
She glared. ‘Which we’re not going to be.’
‘Not?’
‘I may just try it on my own,’ she said with as much dignity as she could muster. She turned her back on her husband-and turned her attention to the bedroom.
And saw the bed.
‘You could sleep a small army in that bed,’ she gasped-and Raoul looked through and nodded. Gravely.
‘I’d guess this must have been the troops’ quarters in the past.’
‘Oh, right. I can just see a whole regiment tucked up in that bed.’ She couldn’t suppress a smile at the thought, and some of the tension eased. A little. ‘This is amazing.’
‘Isn’t it just,’ he said, and his voice was as wondering as hers.
She turned and stared at him, surprised. ‘Haven’t you ever been in here?’
‘Not that I can remember,’ he told her. ‘When I was a kid I was never allowed in this section of the palace. Henri and Mama arranged that we come here tonight. They said it was appropriate.’ He stared around for a bit more in appreciation. ‘I don’t know about appropriate,’ he told her, ‘but it’s pretty good, huh?’
‘Um…right.’
He eyed her with caution. ‘Right?’
‘Right,’ she said, and glowered. Somehow a glower seemed necessary. In the face of his wonder. In the face of…him. She needed weapons here, she thought. She needed all the weapons she could muster and a glower was all she had.
And sense. She had to be sensible.
‘The bedroom’s mine,’ she told him. ‘You can have the rest.’
‘Don’t you need access to the bathroom?’
‘I’ll use two feet along the far wall to get there. When you’re not in it.’
‘You want to build a dividing wall?’ he asked, entering into the spirit of things. ‘With cushions? Hey, we could divide the bath. One of us on either side of the shell. Only maybe cushions wouldn’t work as a barrier.’ His face fell. ‘They might get soggy.’
‘Don’t be facetious.’
‘You don’t think you might be just the faintest bit paranoid?’
‘I’m not paranoid. I’m just…’
‘Yes?’
‘Scared,’ she said and the glower went out of her, just like that.
‘Scared of me?’ His laughter had died, too. He was looking down at her with tenderness and that was worse. It made her feel a whole lot more scared.
‘Raoul, we can’t do this.’
‘We can’t what?’
‘Have a marriage.’
‘No.’ He put a finger under her chin, tilting her face, forcing her to look up into his eyes. ‘No, we can’t.’ His look softened and his voice lowered. ‘I don’t think any real marriage is possible until we both move on from the past. I’m starting to think that maybe I’m prepared to take a risk, but you…maybe you’re not ready to do that. Are you?’