Crowned: The Palace Nanny (11 page)

And her tingle of humour and enjoyment disappeared, just like that.

Whoa. What was he saying? That she and Zoe would be staying, but he was leaving?

I need to be away from the island
…

He was planning on coming and going at will?
While…what had he said?…Zoe and, I hope, Elsa will be happy here for ever
.

She stayed rooted to the spot while more questions were aimed at Stefanos. Was his work still important to him? How committed to the island could he be if he was returning to the States? Exactly how much time would he stay here and would he still play a ceremonial role?

‘You know I'm a neurosurgeon,' he was explaining to the press, ‘but of course there's work for me to do here now, medical as well as political. However, there are commitments to be honoured in the States before I can take on a permanent role.'

This was never in the contract, she thought wildly. He was leaving?

Stefanos was fielding the final questions. He was saying he'd be here until the coronation, and then he'd return by Christmas. He was intending to get the council sorted within the week…

She was no longer listening.

He was leaving.

He'd organised her to wear a sundress, while he wore a sword. The way she was suddenly feeling…

Maybe she needed a sword as well.

T
HE
media session had taken its toll on Zoe. Jet lag and excitement had finally caught up with her. As the last of the reporters left, the little girl almost visibly drooped.

‘Come on, sweetheart, let's get you up to bed,' Elsa said as Stefanos brought Zoe back to her. She carefully didn't look at Stefanos. The things she needed to say to this man couldn't be said in front of Zoe. In fact, maybe they needed a soundproofed room.

‘I'm thinking you need a carriage, Your Highness,' Stefanos said grandly and scooped the little girl up again and carried her up the stairs.

Once again Elsa was left to follow. Her anger and bewilderment were building by the minute.

Stefanos was leaving. He was assuming she'd stay and take care of Zoe. In a place she didn't know. In a country she didn't know.

She was furious, but as she limped up the stairs after them her anger receded, leaving her flat and deflated. Like Zoe, she was so tired…

She'd been tired for years, but this was worse. Jet lag? No. It was betrayal, and betrayal hurt.

She stopped at the top stair and thought, I don't want to go on. I don't want to watch Stefanos tuck Zoe into bed and make her smile. I don't want to see Zoe seduced into this life of media attention, of shallowness, of wealth, with only me to protect her.

Royalty had destroyed Christos's childhood—he'd told her that. Stefanos had left the island as well, and he'd left for a reason. How could she possibly assess the risks royalty posed for such a vulnerable child as Zoe?

Regardless, Stefanos was obviously intending that she take on the burden of protecting Zoe. That was what he'd said. For ever?

She didn't follow him into the bedroom. She made it to the top stair and sat. If Zoe needed her, Stefanos would come back for her, she thought, but the way the little girl's eyelids were drooping as he'd carried her, she doubted if she'd notice if Elsa wasn't there. And if she went in now she might explode. That he demand she drop the threads of her life in Australia on command, and yet manipulate her so he could still do what he wanted…That he could return to his old life in Manhattan and leave her to care for Zoe in a place she didn't understand…

There were weary chuckles from the end of the corridor. Stefanos was making Zoe laugh.

Bully for Stefanos.

She felt dizzy, as well as angry and confused and all the rest of it. Her hip hurt. She put her head on her knees and folded her arms over her head. This was jet lag and more. Desolation, homesickness, betrayal. The world could go away…

Footsteps sounded down the hall, approaching her on the stair and pausing. She opened her eyes. A pair of black Hessian boots was in her field of vision.

Stefanos.

‘Jet lag too, huh?' he said and he was smiling again. She knew he was smiling. She could hear his smile.

‘It's not jet lag,' she said without looking up. ‘It's anger and disgust and deception thrown in for good measure. Zoe's your cousin. What do you mean by abandoning her?'

‘I'm not abandoning her,' he said, sounding surprised.

‘You're going back to Manhattan.'

‘Only for a few weeks.'

‘Why didn't you tell us?'

There was a pause. And then…Amazingly, an honest answer. ‘Because I thought you wouldn't come if I did.'

‘How very perceptive.'

He sighed and sat down beside her. ‘I'm sorry. I should have told you before, but I have an urgent surgical list to do before Christmas.'

‘I had a paper on echinoderms to write up before Christmas,' she retorted. ‘Believe it or not, it was important. Someone else is finishing it for me right now.'

‘You're saying your echinoderms are more important than my surgical list?'

‘You're saying your life is more important than my life?'

He hesitated. ‘Elsa, I'm sorry. Of course I don't think that. But you don't understand.'

‘So make me understand,' she flashed at him. ‘Are there no other surgeons in New York?'

‘I can't hand this over.'

‘Why not?'

‘I can't explain this while you're angry.'

‘You don't have a choice,' she said wearily. ‘From my point of view, you've conned me into bringing Zoe here. You've seduced the two of us, with your promise of palaces and lovely clothes and happy ever after. But what do I know of this life? How do I know Zoe is safe here? It was your assurance of safety and care that brought us here. How can you calmly say you're going away and leaving us when we've scarcely set foot in the place?'

She was staring downstairs at the massive chandelier below them. Wishing she wasn't in these clothes he'd bought her. Wishing she could wave a magic wand and be home with her beach and her starfish and even her disgusting fish-head cat food—somewhere where she knew the risks and could face them for her small charge; knowing exactly where she stood.

But it seemed that Stefanos wasn't backing down. He was hesitating over what to say to her but she could see that Manhattan was a done deal.

‘Just explain,' she said wearily and for a moment she thought he wasn't going to say anything. And then he did.

‘I work with overseas aid agencies,' he said slowly into the silence, as if he didn't yet know that he should admit it.

Aid agencies? What sort of aid agencies? What part of this could she believe? ‘But you said you work in Manhattan.'

‘I do. Patients come to me.'

‘How?'

‘Aid agencies send them,' he said bluntly, his tone implying he'd decided he might as well tell her and get it over with, whether she believed him or not. ‘International aid agencies know what I do and they contact me at need. I intersperse these operations with my normal surgery—that way I can afford it. Mostly I treat people with head injuries from Africa. Neurological stuff. For children especially, as the brain continues to grow, scar tissue causes major problems. I work on techniques to remove the worst of the scar tissue without it reforming. I had to cancel some desperate cases when I realised I needed to find Zoe and get this place sorted. Those kids are still waiting. Now you're here, I need to go back, finish what I've promised and try to hand over my techniques to others to take them forward.'

‘You cancelled…' She was staring at him in horror. ‘You cancelled them for Zoe?'

‘For the welfare of the whole island. If Zoe wasn't back here by the end of next week, then she'd forfeit the throne.'

She frowned, trying to keep up. ‘But then you'd inherit.'

‘You think I want it? I want to carry on my work.'

She swallowed. Hard. Trying to take this in. ‘So…So you really are abandoning us?'

‘No,' he said flatly. ‘I can't. This place is a mess. Hell, Elsa, there's one doctor on the whole island and that's just the start of it. The local school only takes kids up to sixteen and then there's nothing. There's no infrastructure. The council needs replacing with good, solid people and they'll need support. How can I walk away and leave that to Zoe?'

‘I haven't heard about this.'

‘I keep it quiet.' He shrugged. ‘My wealthy patients come to me in part because of my social position. To be honest, their fees pay for the other work I do, so I have to pander to them.'

‘Honestly?'

‘Honestly,' he said.

She stared at him. Said nothing. Stared at him still. Why did she believe him?

She did believe him. And if she did believe him…

She took a deep breath, summoned the words she needed and said them. ‘I could help,' she said.

There was a loaded silence. He rose and stared down at her, as if she'd suddenly announced the arrival of aliens.

‘You're kidding me,' he said at last.

‘I don't say what I don't mean,' she said, and rose as well. ‘Tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it.' She wasn't feeling very steady. She put her hand on the balustrade to support herself and suddenly Stefanos's hand was over hers.

‘You can't,' he said softly.

‘I can't help? How do you know I can't?' She tilted her chin. ‘Sure, I don't know anything about this place, sure I was angry just then, but I'll get over it. You can teach me. If your work's so important, then I can try.'

The silence extended. She really was exhausted, she thought. If it wasn't for the balustrade and Stefanos's hand…

‘Elsa, I'm starting to think there's nothing you can't do,' he said softly into the silence. ‘There's no end to your generosity. Zoe's parents die and you abandon your career and take care of her. I arrive and tell you she's needed here and you upend your life and abandon your echinoderms and come with her. And now…your anger turns to an offer of help, just like that. If I said I had to leave tomorrow would you try and handle the council yourself?'

‘Maybe I could,' she said and jutted her chin and he laughed, a lovely deep chuckle that had her confused. Veering towards anger again. If only she wasn't so tired.

‘No, don't be angry, my lovely Elsa,' he said softly, and
he placed a finger under her chin. ‘I'm not laughing at you. Indeed, I never could. But no. Your generosity is amazing. Stunning. And, if I could, maybe I'd be tempted. But the island needs a ruler who knows it. Like it or not, I was raised here. I know the islanders. I know the problems. No, I don't want to rule here. I want to practice my medicine. I won't be able to practice the medicine I want here, but that's a small sacrifice in the scheme of things. I've already started a training scheme back in New York. I just have to hope my work keeps going. If you could bear me to be away for these few weeks it will make all the difference.'

‘You should have told me.'

‘I should have told you,' he agreed. ‘Indeed, I'm starting to think I should have told you many things.' Then, as she pulled slightly away from him, his hands came to rest on her shoulders. ‘Thank you, Elsa. I can't believe your generosity, and I will keep you safe. I will keep Zoe safe.'

‘I know you will.' Unaccountably, her eyes filled with tears. Dammit, she would not cry.
She would not cry
.

But he was too big and too close and too male.

Matty, she thought, but it was a faint echo of a love that was gone. Only…why did it feel as if she was betraying him now?

‘You're as exhausted as Zoe,' Stefanos said softly. She shook her head and tried again to pull away from him—and staggered on the staircase.

But she didn't fall. This man had promised to keep her safe and that was just what he was doing.

‘That hip…' he said, holding her steady.

‘It's fine.'

‘It's not fine. It's on my list to do something about. But not now. Now's for sleeping.' And, before she realised what he intended, she was lifted into his arms and he was striding down the hallway, just the same way he'd carried Zoe. As if her weight was nothing.

‘Put…What do you think you're doing? Put me down.'

‘In a moment,' he said, not breaking stride. ‘You need to go where Zoe's going.'

She wanted to struggle. She really did. But suddenly all the struggle was sucked out of her.

His arms were strong, he was big and capable and he was carrying her like a child. For Elsa, who hadn't been treated as a child since…well, since she was one, the sensation was indescribable.

She could melt into these arms, she thought. She could let herself disappear, stop struggling, let these arms hold her for ever.

Was this what jet lag did to a girl?

He was at her bedroom, pushing open her door with his foot. The interconnecting door to Zoe's room was open and she could see through. Zoe was asleep already.

She suddenly felt inordinately proud of herself, that she was a good guardian, or nanny, or whatever she was supposed to be. She'd checked on her charge, even when she wasn't exactly in control herself.

And then she realised that Stefanos was carrying her through to Zoe's room. And she saw why.

Zoe's vast four-poster bed had been moved closer to the door. Zoe was fast asleep in it. And on the other side of her massive bed was another bed. A matching four-poster. Velvet curtains, a vast canopy, eiderdowns and cushions…

The room had been turned into a twin room, with two beds that were so ridiculously enormous that she gasped with incredulity.

‘Wh…'

‘I know it's a bit crowded,' Stefanos said, smiling down at her in a dumb, indulgent genie sort of way that for some weird reason had her heart doing backflips. ‘You'll just have to slum it.'

Slum it…

Matching four-posters…

‘I'm probably going to have to pay out on workers' insurance too,' he said morosely. ‘Do you know how much these things weigh? It took eight of us to get it in here.'