The Monarch's Son. Valerie Parv
duties.
In desperation Lorne had reduced her allowance, forcing her to stay at home for longer periods, only to be accused of being a tyrant with no thought for her needs and feelings. Over time, she found almost everything about the island kingdom disagreeable—including their marriage, leaving Lorne feeling more alone than he had ever felt when he was single.
Chandra also grew increasingly resentful of the attention Lorne devoted to their baby and retaliated by criticizing everything to do with Carramer. His country could never compete with Australia in her eyes. He had become sick of hearing how much better everything was in Australia. Yet he couldn’t do the one thing Chandra really wanted him to do—free her from their marriage vows so she could enjoy being a princess without any other ties.
In his country marriage was a union for life. Only in the most dire of circumstances could separation be considered. There was no such thing as divorce. A couple might live apart, but they would be bound together until death. Chandra had demanded that Lorne change the laws, but having seen the effects of divorce on children in other countries, he couldn’t bring himself to institute it in Carramer, not even for his wife. Had they not been royal, he could have allowed her to live apart from him, but he had no intention of setting such a poor example for his people.
A furrow etched his brow. If he had changed the law, would Chandra be alive today? He would never know. He only knew that another fierce argument had resulted in her flight away from the villa at reckless speed, ending when her car went out of control on a cliff top, sending the car crashing to the surf below. Chandra had found her release but in a way that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
The woman in his arms moaned softly, drawing his attention. While they talked, her long hair had dried into a curtain of nut-brown curls that now fanned out against his shoulder. Silken strands of it twined around his fingers. He caught himself wondering at how little she weighed, surely not much more than Nori. The feel of her lithe body against him reminded him unwillingly that it had been a year since Chandra died, a long time for a man of his strong appetites to be without the company of a woman.
The frown returned. What was it about Alison Carter that made him so aware of his celibate life? After Chandra he knew better than to involve himself with a woman not of his own kind, especially another Australian. What was their expression? Once bitten, twice shy. It definitely applied to him. And he wasn’t so starved for female attention that any woman would turn his thoughts in the same direction.
There was something about this woman that affected him in ways he preferred not to think about, he knew. The sooner his doctor cleared her to be on her way, the better for all of them.
When Lorne reached the villa, Dr. Pascale was pacing the marble terrace, his expression anxious. As soon as he saw Lorne, he gestured for servants to relieve the prince of his burden. Lorne gave Alison up to them with a reluctance he didn’t care to examine too closely.
“Take her to the Rose Suite,” he instructed. Of all the guest suites in the villa, it was the most beautiful. An artist would appreciate waking up in such surroundings, he thought. To the doctor, he said, “Report to me as soon as you’ve examined and treated her.”
The doctor’s eyebrows lifted curiously. “I take it this young lady is special to you?”
The doctor had brought Lorne into the world thirty-one years ago and was one of the few people who would dare to speak so familiarly to him. Lorne’s parents had died during a cyclone when he was only twenty, and the doctor had become something of a father figure. The man’s informality usually warmed him, but right now he found it intensely irritating. “She is a stranger in need of our help, Alain. I suggest you provide it for her.”
The doctor didn’t look in the least put out by Lorne’s abruptness. “As you wish, Your Highness.” Somehow he managed to infuse the title with a touch of reprimand.
Lorne regretted his tone immediately. He deserved Alain’s censure. No matter how confused he felt over the unexpected arrival of the Australian woman, it didn’t give him the right to abuse a dear friend. Raking long fingers through his hair, Lorne said, “Wait, Alain. I’m sorry for snapping at you. Do what you can for her, all right?”
Amusement danced in the doctor’s expression. “As you wish, Your Highness.” This time, the title contained the wealth of affection that had built up between them through the years.
By the time the doctor returned with his report, Lorne had showered and changed into a white open-necked shirt and black pants. He was surprised at the tension he noticed coiling inside himself as he waited for the doctor’s verdict.
“The young lady has suffered no lasting harm from being caught in the rip,” the doctor informed him. “At least no physical harm.”
Alarm flared through Lorne. “Then why did she faint?”
The doctor paced to a large window overlooking the villa’s expansive grounds. “Exhaustion would be my diagnosis.”
“From her ordeal?”
The doctor turned back to him and shook his head. “From more than that, I would say. She’s run-down and slightly anemic. When she came around, she was groggy enough to be honest and admit she hasn’t taken a holiday for years. I gather she hasn’t had much sleep since arriving in our beautiful country.”
Bracing himself, Lorne said, “I imagine she spends her nights partying with other travelers her own age.”
“I doubt it,” Dr. Pascale observed dryly. “She’s staying at Shepherd Lodge.”
“I see.” Lorne did see. Shepherd Lodge was run by an order of lay nuns who took strict care to see that their residents behaved themselves. The young women who stayed there endured the spartan rooms and requirement to do chores either to please parents who lived in the country or, in the case of foreigners, because it was clean and incredibly cheap. He had a good idea which of the reasons applied to Alison. On the beach she had mentioned staying as long as her money lasted.
“I’ve given her something to help her rest,” the doctor continued. “Do you want me to arrange transportation for her back to the Lodge when she wakes up?”
Lorne was in no doubt what answer the doctor expected. Alain Pascale might be getting on in years but he was nobody’s fool. “You know perfectly well I can’t send her back to that bleak place if she’s unwell,” he observed testily. “They have a rule against residents remaining in their rooms during the day. You have to be almost dying to be exempted.”
“Then she can remain in the Rose Suite for a day or so until she recovers?”
Wondering if he needed his head examined, Lorne nodded. “For a day or so. Have someone notify the matron at Shepherd Lodge that their resident is staying at my villa so they have no need to send out a search party.”
The doctor’s eyebrows lifted. “And you got mad at me for harboring suspicions. They’ll have nothing on the rumors doing the rounds once that message is received.”
Lorne gave a heavy sigh. “You’re right as usual. Have my aide tell them Alison has taken up a post with my household as…as Nori’s companion for the remainder of our vacation here.”
Alain had the grace not to grin, although he looked pleased by the decision. “You’re assuming that she’ll accept, of course.”
Lorne wondered if he looked as stunned as he felt. “Of course she will, if I command it.”
The doctor shrugged. “You of all people should know Australians can be infuriatingly independent. Miss Carter seems to be no exception. I’d ask her nicely if I were you, then she might say yes.”
Asking nicely wasn’t something Lorne was accustomed to doing. As the sovereign ruler of Carramer, his word was quite literally law. For the first time it came to him to wonder if it hadn’t been one of the stumbling blocks to happiness with his late wife. Since he would never know the answer, he dismissed it from his mind. “I’ll think about it,” he said ominously.
“I