Crowned: The Palace Nanny (14 page)

‘Of course you do. I'm going about this the wrong way but yesterday…I didn't even know how he died. I should have asked you about him and I'm so sorry I didn't. Matty was your husband and you loved him. He must have been really special.'

Speechless didn't begin to describe how she was feeling. What was it with this man? He'd brought her here for a picnic. He'd fed her lobster and wine—and then he'd talked of buying her ball dresses and phoning her doctor and now he wanted to talk about her dead husband.

Her head was hurting. Her hip was hurting.

She wanted to hit him.

Count to ten, she told herself. Come on, Elsa, you can cope with this.

Personally, Stefanos had overstepped the mark. The knowledge that he'd phoned her doctor and found out information was huge—it threatened to overwhelm her. But that was personal.

Asking her about Matty was personal.

This man was her employer. Nothing else.

So why not tell him about Matty?

It was too confusing. How could she tell him about Matty without betraying Matty? Yet how could the act of telling him about Matty be a betrayal? Unless…unless…

It was far too hard.

‘Take me back to the palace, Stefanos,' she said wearily. ‘I'm sure you have work to do.'

‘But…'

‘I have work to do too,' she said. ‘If I can't help rule your island, then I'll just have to go back to starfish.'

‘There are some great starfish…'

‘How many times do I have to tell you—I hate starfish,' she snapped bitterly, irrationally, and shoved the picnic basket aside and lifted the picnic rug and shook it. And if the sea breeze just happened to be blowing in the direction of Stefanos…well, the gods must have meant him to get a face full of sand.

But his phone was ringing and he was retrieving it from his pocket. He didn't seem to notice she was throwing sand at him like a two-year-old having a tantrum.

Frustrated, she folded the rug nicely and gathered the gear together and waited for him to finish.

‘Of course I can do it. No, you know I promised. From now on, this is what I do.'

‘What?' she said as he snapped his phone shut.

‘A two-year-old with croup,' he said. ‘In the village near here. Would you mind if we stopped on the way back? Though…it'd mean you miss out on your rock pools.'

Okay, enough of the tantrums. She pulled herself together.

‘My rock pools can wait. Of course they can. Croup? Are you working already?'

‘Our island doctor has more work than he knows what to do with. I've told him I'll start helping at once. We'll get more medical staff here before I leave, but for now…He's stuck in a clinic on the far side of the island and the child's mother has newborn twins at home and isn't well herself. It's probably just reassurance. If you can wait…'

‘Of course I can wait,' she said remorsefully. ‘I'm not really a brat.'

‘I know you're not a brat. You're…' He hesitated. ‘No. Let's just go.'

 

The drive to the village was done in silence. Stefanos was feeling just about as low as it was possible to feel.

This morning it had seemed a good idea—sensible, even—to take Elsa to the beach. He'd decided to show her he wasn't born a prince—that they had more in common than she thought. He'd offer her a beautiful dress, a shopping trip to Athens. He'd have to push to find time to do it but she needed some sort of gesture to show how much he appreciated her care of Zoe. And…it hadn't escaped his mind that watching Elsa buy a beautiful gown might be a whole lot of fun for him too. Time out for both of them.

The other things had been added because they were also
starting to feel urgent. Every time he noticed her limp now he felt bad. And he needed to find out about Matty.

Okay, the last wasn't essential, but it seemed essential to him—more and more. He didn't fully understand why—it was simply the way Elsa was making him feel.

So he'd set his plan in place and, in doing so, he'd alienated her just about as far as he possibly could.

Good one, he told himself, feeling something akin to pond scum. Only pond scum might have more self-respect.

He knew the place he was going. He drove slowly through the nearby village and hesitated. ‘Do you want to come with me? Would you mind staying in the car?'

‘I'm happier here,' she said, motioning to the village street. ‘I'll poke around and talk to people. That looks a nice peaceful little park. If you take hours, don't worry; I'll be under a tree asleep.'

Once again she'd taken his breath away. He thought of the women he'd taken out before—colleagues, New York singles, women who were smart and savvy and stood up for what they wanted.

So did Elsa, he thought, but only when it was needed. Now…she'd made no fuss, she'd released him from any pressure and he knew instinctively that if it took hours she wouldn't fuss at all.

‘Thank you,' he said.

‘Stefanos?'

‘Yes?'

‘I might need a bit of money,' she said diffidently. ‘I don't have any local currency and it's been so long since lunch…I might need an ice cream.'

And how good was that, he thought as he drove away. Without any more pressure she'd ensured she had enough money for phone calls and help if he really didn't come back for her.

Only she needn't doubt that. He'd definitely come back for her.

 

The old doctor was right—the little boy was suffering mild croup, easily handled at home. What was needed was reassurance and his mother got that in spades, just by Stefanos's presence.

‘Our Prince,' the young mother said, over and over. ‘Here in my kitchen.'

He smiled and cradled one of her twins and shared a cup of tea with her. As the two-year-old slid into sleep, the young father came home, reacted with awe that Stefanos himself had come, decided his wife obviously needed more support if the Prince himself suggested it and, before he knew it, the children's aunt was unpacking a suitcase in the spare room, fast enough to also join the Prince in yet another cup of tea.

There was nothing to this family medicine, Stefanos thought with wry humour, though his house calls might well need to get a bit faster.

Could he be content with family medicine?

It had its own skills. He was out of date. He'd have to brush up on his general medical knowledge, but he would. It could give him satisfaction. If only…if only the work he'd been doing wasn't so imperative.

Elsa wasn't in the park, but he found her easily. She was standing in front of the butcher's shop, happily licking an ice cream cone, reading the literature in the shop window. With her gorgeous bare legs, her flyaway curls, her ice cream, she stood out like a sunbeam.

‘Hi,' she said as he climbed out of his car to join her. Maybe he should get himself a less conspicuous car, he thought ruefully. These wings were crazy. The locals were staring at the car and starting to cluster.

‘How goes your patient?' she asked.

‘All cured.'

‘Really?'

‘I'm a fabulous doctor,' he said modestly. ‘I prescribed one aunt and lo, the problem's solved.'

‘Do they sell aunts in bottles?'

‘Sure they do. Can we go?'

‘Um…maybe. But have you seen this?' she asked, licking her cone with care.

Woman-cum-eight-year-old. She made him feel…

See, that was the trouble. He didn't know how he felt.
This
was something new, something frightening, something he didn't know what to do with.

‘Is this beach far?' she asked.

‘What beach?'

‘Read the poster,' she said with exaggerated constraint.

He read the poster. It was handwritten, big and to the point.

‘Do you know where Lagoon Tempio is?'

‘I…yes.'

‘Can we go?' she asked. She took a final lick of her cone, decided against more and tossed the remainder in a nearby bin.

‘You want to go to this beach?' he said cautiously, aware that the eyes of many people were on him.

‘Yes.' To his astonishment, she was suddenly deadly serious. She wiped her hands on her hips and faced him square on. ‘Please.'

He stared at the sign. It made no sense. ‘Who's Kent Ridley?'

‘Kemp's Ridley. Lepidochelys kempii. It's the smallest and most endangered of the world's sea turtles. And they breed together. All the females nest on the one night so hatchings are huge. If it's really Kemp's Ridley…I can't imagine it is, but please, Stefanos, I need to go.'

The sudden passion in her voice stunned him. The vibrant excitement. ‘Didn't you tell Zoe you'd be back by four?' he said, astounded at the change in her.

‘I told you I told Zoe I'd be back by four,' she said impatiently. ‘I was scared you meant a spot of seduction. Stefanos, we need to hurry.'

There was a snort from behind them. The onlookers were
close enough to hear. This was a busy shopping street in the middle of the afternoon and every person here knew who he was. Maybe they didn't know who Elsa was—but they were surely interested.

She'd just made them a whole lot more interested. So many people spoke English these days, he thought.

‘Elsa…'

‘Okay, I know you didn't want to seduce me,' she conceded. ‘You just wanted to ask me a whole lot of questions I failed to answer. But I wasn't to know that. So I'm safe but the turtles aren't. If whoever wrote this poster…Helena?'

‘Helena's my mother,' a voice volunteered, and Elsa turned with eagerness.

‘Your mother?' She'd slipped easily and fluently into Greek. ‘Your mother is saving turtles?'

‘They started hatching this morning,' a middle-aged man wearing a butcher's apron told her. ‘My mother's excited, too. These turtles used to come here in large numbers—the mass nesting is called an arribadas, my mother says—but forty years ago scientists and tourists were coming to see so the King bulldozed the beach. It broke my mother's heart. But this year…This year they've come back. She wants me to help but I have my shop. I put her sign up in my window but it was all I could do.'

‘Does she have helpers?'

‘I sent my boy down to help her,' the man told her. ‘But there are so many birds…My mother can only save a few.'

‘Stefanos,' Elsa said and fixed him with a look he was starting to recognise.

‘Yes?'

‘As far as I know, there's only one known nesting ground and that's in Mexico. To have a Kemp's Ridley hatching ground right here, where I can help…There'll be a million predators feasting on them. Stefanos, we need a royal decree or something.'

‘A royal decree?' he said blankly,

‘We have to save those turtles.' She took a deep breath. Steadied. ‘Stefanos, if you help me save the turtles, then I'll…I'll…I'll even let you buy me a Princess Grace dress.'

There was a ripple of stunned laughter through the crowd. More and more people were clustered around them now, with more arriving every minute. This was their Prince Regent. And the Princess's nanny.

‘So what do we need?' he said simply.

‘People. Lots of people.'

She was speaking with passion, and she was waiting for him to act.

People.

‘The school,' he said.

‘What about the school?'

He turned to the crowd. ‘Is the school bus available?'

‘It'll be taking the schoolchildren home,' someone told him. ‘It should be back here in a few minutes.'

‘Who's in charge of it?'

‘My son,' someone else called.

‘Okay,' Stefanos said. ‘I'm commandeering the school bus. Can you tell your son that I'll pay him double the going rate to transport any islander and any child to Lagoon Tempio? There's as much ice cream as they can eat for a week for anyone who comes there.' He grinned at the ice cream vendor. ‘I'll reimburse you, and I'll also reimburse you for closing the shop now. That goes for anyone who wants to help.' He glanced at the butcher. ‘Phillip, can we set up a barbecue on the beach? If we're going to get people there we need to feed them. Can you contact the baker and Marios at the café? I'll reimburse you for anything anyone eats or drinks tonight. Portia…' he turned to another woman standing by a battered Jeep ‘…can you take Dr Murdoch there now? I'll pay you for your trouble. By the way, everyone, this is Dr Murdoch—a marine biologist who also happens to be the best thing that's happened to this island for a long time. Elsa, I'll organise things here.
I'll phone the palace and ask that Zoe be brought down to join us.'