He’d also successfully pushed Kate away, and he regretted that decision even if it was best for them both. He had battled the urge to go to her, make love with her, lose himself in her and in doing so recapture some of his strength. Yet he couldn’t keep relying on her to serve as his proverbial port in a storm. He’d never relied on anyone to see him through his problems. Except for Kate, he realized when he reflected on their first encounters, her assistance with his studies all those years ago. But since that time, he’d been on his own. He would continue to make it on his own. Alone.
But he had found some solace during a few late-night meetings with little Cecile. He could basically set his watch to the exact moment when she would wake and require soothing, half-past midnight. Several times he’d almost laughed when he’d heard Beatrice telling his mother that the baby was now sleeping through the night. But his laughter did not come easily these days.
He glanced at the bedside clock and realized the time for Cecile to rouse was upon him now. He might not be able to establish a solid role as a leader to suit everyone concerned, or give Kate all that she needed beyond physical pleasure, but he could at least play the part of white knight to an innocent child. A child who looked to him for nothing more than company, looked at him with admiration, without judgment, when he rescued her pacifier from the floor.
After shrugging on his robe, he walked quietly through the hallway to the nursery and opened the door. Instead of finding the room totally deserted, he discovered Cecile cradled in Kate’s arms, both sound asleep in the rocker.
Marc leaned a shoulder against the door and watched them with a warmth that radiated from his soul and settled on his heart. Kate’s face looked tranquil and beautiful in sleep. He wanted to put Cecile to bed, then carry Kate to his bedroom. He settled for staring a few more moments, then closed the door behind him.
He leaned back against the wall outside the room and stared at the ceiling. He could not fight his feelings for Kate any longer. He cared deeply for her, more than he had for any woman. And he wanted to be with her, regardless that he shouldn’t.
Determination sent him back to his suite to plan. He would somehow make it up to Kate, do something to show her how much he did care.
If, in fact, she still wanted him.
Kate really wanted to holler like a maniac.
If one more person asked if she was the king’s girlfriend, then she would let go a yell that would be heard across the ocean. Her mother had been the latest in the long line of inquiring minds during their recent conversation. Kate had told her that she and Marc were just friends, not exactly the truth but not really a lie, at least not now. They hadn’t been much of anything for the past five days.
Kate needed a break from it all, from the gossip and innuendo and sideways glances. Today was Saturday, a much-needed day off, and she prepared to spend some of her time talking with the staff about Philippe DeLoria. If she happened to come upon any relevant information, then she would have an excuse to talk to Marc. Otherwise, she refused to invade his privacy since he seemed determined to steer clear of her. Eventually, she did intend to confront him, but not until she knew exactly what she would say.
Following a meager lunch, Kate made her way through the gardens and entered the palace through the kitchen, coming upon Beatrice preparing several of Cecile’s bottles. A good place to start with her inquiry, Kate decided. After all, they’d become fast friends, and the nanny did speak decent English.
“Hi, Bea,” Kate said, bringing forth the nanny’s smile over the pet name Kate had given her.
Beatrice swiped a forearm across her forehead, where wayward tendrils of auburn hair rained down from her neat bun. “Hello, Dr. Kate. If you are looking for the baby, she is sleeping. The queen mother is also taking a nap.”
Kate took a stool at the kitchen workstation across from Beatrice and immediately thought about the first time Marc had kissed her by the stove. They’d come a long way in a short time, and they still had far to go—if Kate had any say in the matter.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she said, “Actually, I wanted to talk with you, Bea. Did you know Philippe?”
Beatrice didn’t look up from screwing the cap on to one of the bottles. “Yes, ma’am, I did know him.”
“Then you worked here before he died?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How well did you know him?”
Beatrice’s gaze snapped up, her hazel eyes wide with horror. “I did not know him in that way, mademoiselle.”
Her strong reaction made Kate question if the woman was telling the absolute truth, but then Beatrice was a year away from forty and didn’t seem like the kind who would take a younger man as a lover. However, nothing would surprise Kate these days. “I’m not saying you and King Philippe were close in that way. I’m just wondering if maybe he was involved with a woman. Someone the family might not have known about.”
Beatrice fumbled with a bottle, barely saving it from a major formula spill. “He was engaged to marry Countess Trudeau.”
Kate suspected the woman’s nervousness could indicate knowledge of a secret tryst. She bent her elbow and leaned her cheek against her palm. “What was she like, the countess?”
“I have never met her.”
“Then she wasn’t around all that much.”
“No.” Beatrice picked up the bottles and put them in the refrigerator before coming back to Kate. “I must go and check on the baby.”
Kate rested her hand on Beatrice’s arm. “I know you probably don’t want to answer my questions, Bea, but this is very important. You can trust that whatever you tell me will be protected.”
“I do not understand what you are asking of me.”
“I think you know something about Philippe DeLoria’s love life. Did he have a secret lover?”
Beatrice twisted the white apron she wore over her plain gray shift. “I could not say… I should not…”
“I have to know, Bea. This could help us find Cecile’s mother.”
The nanny glanced around the room like a frightened doe, then turned her attention to back to Kate. “If I tell you, will you vow not to tell the queen mother the information came from me? I have been sworn to secrecy when it comes to the royal family’s privacy.”
Kate raised her hand in oath. “I promise.”
After looking around the room once more, Beatrice leaned forward and whispered, “It was rumored he had a lover in one of the mountain villages, a peasant girl. I think I saw her once, in the guesthouse late at night. I was…” Her gaze faltered. “I was going for a walk with a friend in the gardens.”
Kate was curious about Beatrice’s little late-night rendezvous with the friend, but that wasn’t the main issue. “Can you describe her to me?”
“I could not see her.”
“Do you know her name? Even her first name would help.”
“No. I heard him call her mon amour. My love. That was all.”
And it was more information than they’d had to this point. Kate circled the counter and drew Beatrice into a quick hug. “Thank you, Bea. You’re the best.”
“And so are you, Dr. Kate. You bring joy to the household.”
If only that were true, Kate thought. At least where Marc was concerned. “Have you seen King DeLoria?”
“Bernard…” Beatrice blushed like the devil. “I mean Mr. Nicholas said that the king would be gone most of the day.”
Bernard