Red Wine For Miss Parker(6)

Fortunately, in time, Elizabeth St. Yves had turned into a good-hearted young woman and after having married the Earl of Barnham she had taken Clara under her wings.

Now Clara was a woman grown, still a little lanky, but very pretty. There was a vibrant intensity in her that she must have acquired after he had left.

Nothing could describe the happiness he felt upon seeing her again. He held her tight and kissed her head.





"Clara, do come away from His Royal Highness, your behaviour is most improper," the spectacular blonde standing by the tea table commanded. "Mariella, run to get Prince Francis some of my husband's clothes, they should fit him perfectly, from what I can deduce. Highness, if I may take the liberty to introduce myself, I'm Eugenia St. Yves, the Duke's wife."

Mamma Mia, Dominic, you lucky, lucky bastard. How did an arrogant prig like you manage to marry such a woman? Well, you have always been handsome as hell and the money will have helped.

"Chère cousine, it is a delight, you may call me Francesco, if you please."

The blonde smiled and looked even better than before. "We shall see if I should please."

Impossible! She is witty, too. How DID he do it?

"Surrey's not in, he rode to Milan to talk to his grand-father, who is your uncle, I believe? What a surprise to find you here. We had not heard of your return to these shores. My husband thought you in Baden-Baden. Do you have an appointment with my husband? I do not think so, regarding your... well, attire."

Francesco smiled back gracefully. "Dear cousin Eugenia, I am so sorry to intrude upon you in such a biblical ensemble so unexpectedly and if Dominic were here, I'd apologise to him for not being in Baden-Baden. I had just finished my little swim across the lake and was about to return, when a young Lady fell from a tree, right in front of me. What was I supposed to do?"

"Oh, right!" the Duchess grimaced and turned towards the girl he had carried up to the castle. "Flora, you fell from a tree? Are you badly hurt? Will you need a physician?"

The tiny person sitting on the bench stared at them with an expression that would have scared the hounds of hell into submission. The girl's face was bright red and she violently bit her lower lip.

"Yes!" she spat and continued to glare. "It happens just so that I am! But do go ahead, I beg of you. Never mind me!"

Oh, she's a fiend! Why did I save her?

"Dear Flora, I'm so sorry!" Clara exclaimed and sat down next to the furious thing. "Do you wish to go inside? I could help you walk, or perhaps Lord Lackerby or the Earl could— "

"Not THEM!" The girl called Flora fumed. "I feel stupid enough already, I don't need them to see me in this condition!"

Clara quickly nodded. "Yes, I understand. Calm yourself, Flora dear."

"I AM CALM!" The small face turned ever redder. She looked like a tomato with curls. "I am very calm! And I don't need anybody to help me, I'm no charitable cause, I can manage on my own! I have always managed on my own, I don't need anybody's help!"

Somebody take her away, she's getting on my nerves with her squealing.

"Pardon me, Highness, I have not introduced my friend, this is Miss Flora Parker."

The tomato girl snorted and cleaned her hose in a kerchief.

Charming.

"Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Parker," the Prince murmured without interested. She was a nuisance and he was too occupied with the the joy of seeing his little Clara after such a long time and by the existence of a Duchess of Surrey whose looks compelled any good Italian to compose an aria. And Francesco, in truth being a multi-national mongrel like all European royalty, thought of himself as an Italian very much.

The housekeeper brought the clothes. Francesco took them from her very gently. He did not want to scare the old girl, to whom it must have been quite a shock to see a Prince of Lombardy wearing nothing but a pink scarf. He gracefully waved at the Ladies and strolled away to dress himself behind a bush.

Francesco and Dominic had always been of the same stature and Surrey's clothes fit him perfectly, even if they were just a simple hose and shirt. A simple hose and shirt, but of cut. How could it not be of cut with Dominic? Even his wife was of cut.

He annoys me already without even being here! I think I want to swim back home right away.

The Prince finished robing and found himself stuck with tomato girl's pink scarf. He could not simply return the piece of cloth to the livid Miss Parker he concluded, so he swung it nonchalantly around his neck and stepped out from behind the bush. "You will permit me to borrow this, Miss Parker," he called. "I shall have it cleaned and returned."

But Miss Parker was gone. Only the Duchess and Clara had remained.