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‘Consult with my mother on clothes, accessories and such—despite appearances she has a very good sense of fashion.’
‘The Queen? I couldn’t possibly...maybe Lady Rosa. She seemed...’
‘Charming? Oh, she is,’ he said with an edge to his voice. ‘But donotgo to Lady Rosa.’
Despite the dismissal, Kate felt inclined to argue the prohibition. As mental images of the woman flashed into her head, she conceded that the woman was possibly not very stylish, certainly not as elegant as the pictures she’d seen of the Queen. Still, Lady Rosa was less regal but much more approachable than the actual monarch.
Kate was already dismissed, his fingers moving across one of the keyboards on his desk. ‘And do not use her as an intermediary to my mother,’ he added without looking up.
She shook her head in bewilderment even though he couldn’t see her. ‘But why not?’
He looked up then. ‘Because, Kate, Lady Rosa is my father’s mistress and there is a limit tocivilised.’ At least for him there was.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘OH,YES,THATONEis perfect... Oh, but the bra will definitely have to go.’ The Queen turned to her granddaughter, who was dancing around in a pink ballerina dress. ‘Don’t you think so, Freya?’
The child paused to consider the subject, her expression so like her grandmother’s that for a moment Kate forgot she was stressed as hell by the whole process and laughed.
‘I think you’re right, Grandma...no bra. Oh, I think I’m beautiful,’ she added, swirling in front of the mirrors that covered one entire wall.
‘Oh, you are!’ both women exclaimed in unison and exchanged a smiling glance.
The Queen, despite her patrician looks, was possibly the least regal person Kate had ever met. She exuded a warmth, professed herself to bequite lazyand didn’t appear to be tuned into the palace gossip machine at all. She was definitely not Kate’s image of a wronged wife. She didn’t seem angry, bitter or downtrodden. She seemed a woman who was very comfortable in her own skin.
But behind thelazyfacade she could be relentless when she made up her mind, which was why Kate was standing there in the most fantastic dress she had ever worn being told her bra would have to go.
She was not going to accept the dress. She was just humouring her royal companion.
‘I really don’t think... It’s beautiful but I don’tneeda dress and I couldn’t possibly afford...’ Her voice trailed off as she glanced at her reflection in the wall of mirrors in the body-hugging, deceptively simple bias-cut slip of blue silk, and she sighed, admitting, ‘It is lovely.’
‘It is perfect, and the matter is settled. As for the cost, Marco is picking up the bill. This is a work-related expense.’
Kate’s husky laugh rang out. ‘He’ll be furious,’ she added, sobering.
‘This is his instruction, my dear,’ the Queen inserted gently.
Kate looked doubtful. He might have said dress, but he could not have meant a dress like this.
‘Now,’ the Queen added briskly. ‘Shoes. You have tiny feet,’ she observed, looking at the trainer-clad feet exposed as Kate lifted the hem of blue silk.
Half an hour later, the items wrapped in layers of tissue were packaged up and stacked, waiting to be carried to the waiting car.
‘We must do this more often,’ the older woman said, turning to Kate with her warm smile. ‘I can’t remember the last time I had such fun.’
Kate, who could not imagine another occasion when her role would involve picking out a designer evening dress and accessories, gave a non-committal cover-all grunt and smiled. She had, despite all her misgivings, enjoyed the day.
Outside on the wide tree-lined street, which housed a row of high-end designer shops to rival any capital city, the air was warm but not unpleasantly so. Kate inhaled the smell of the horse-chestnut blossoms and sneezed violently.
The allergy coming back to haunt her.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Fine,’ Kate assured the older woman. It seemed incomprehensible to her that the King should humiliate her the way he did by keeping a mistress that it transpired everyone knew about.
‘Freya is happy. I think that is down to you, so thank you.’
‘Not at all, it is my—’
