A/N:Part Two in a series of four. I hope all of you had a very merry Christmas and that 2008 will be a wonderful new year for you! Thanks to PDXWiz for the original idea that covers the first three parts of this story arc, and also thanks to jtbwriter, Harry2, Bishop T and Kyryn, along with all my readers.

§ § § -- August 10, 2004

Christian was playing with the triplets in the living room while Ingrid was tending to laundry and Leslie was washing some pots and other items that hadn't fit in the dishwasher. What with their impending departure for London, they had canceled Janine's grocery-shopping excursion for that Tuesday and had spent the day packing for the journey; then Leslie and Ingrid had set about finishing off the cleaning chores so that they wouldn't come home to mountains of dirty laundry and dishes. Leslie had just started drying the items she'd washed when the phone rang.

"Should I get that?" Christian called.

"If you want to," Leslie agreed, turning to watch through the passthrough as he arose with an energetic Tobias in his arms. She giggled at sight of her son kicking his feet as if alternately pushing each foot down on a pedal, and Christian overheard and grinned at her, picking up the phone.

A moment later he came to the passthrough. "It's Camille, my Rose," he said.

"Oh," said Leslie and took the phone from him, watching him return with Tobias to the quilt where Karina and Susanna lay on their stomachs, both with heads up as if trying to watch their father. "Hi, Camille, what's up?"

"A lot," said Camille. "Remember when you told me a couple weeks ago that Christian said Janine confided in him that she had almost enough money to go home? Well, she did it. Andrea got home maybe fifteen minutes ago and Janine was gone. She left a note for Andrea and Denise telling them she'd gone home and not to come after her."

Leslie realized her mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut, then managed, "Holy paradise! I…we knew she was in bad shape, but we never thought she was serious!"

"Hey, don't have a cow," Camille said with a laugh. "It's not your fault, or Christian's either. We probably should've paid closer attention when you said that. After all, if you didn't think it seemed serious, you wouldn't have told us."

"I wonder when she left," Leslie said. "I mean, she could be practically there by now."

"Yeah, probably," said Camille. "Andrea said she was gonna call Mr. Roarke and get a charter-plane schedule from him, and ask him to check with the attendants at the dock to see when a girl matching Janine's description boarded the plane. That'll be a start at least. And Andrea's calling Troy's parents to give them a heads-up."

Leslie smiled at Christian, whose attention was fixed on her. "Janine's going to kill both of you for making her come back," she remarked. "All that money and effort, gone to nothing. She'll hate you guys for years."

"I'm sure she will," said Camille with another laugh. "She's a teenager, and teenagers hate adults anyway. David's already having issues with Jimmy, and I dread next year, 'cause he'll be old enough to drive. He's got friends in school who live on Coral Island, and according to him, people drive everywhere on the Air Force base there. He wants to get one up on them by getting his driver's license the second he's eligible, just so he can lord it over them because fifteen's driving age here and his friends'll have to wait another year."

Leslie laughed. "I can imagine…not that it'll be worth much."

"Yeah, since we don't have a car," Camille agreed. "The shuttle service and our bikes have always been plenty. But you know teenagers, they think driving is a birthright. Well, anyway, tell Christian not to worry about Janine. Andrea's not blaming either one of you, and there's no reason you should feel responsible or anything. So you can take your trip to London with a clear conscience."

Leslie grinned and said, "Christian should be relieved to hear that. Okay, well, good luck to both you and Andrea. Talk to you later."

Christian came to get the cordless phone, pausing at the passthrough. "Well?"

"Janine carried out her threat," Leslie said, handing him the phone. "She packed her bags and headed back to Boston, just the way she told you she would."

Christian blinked and frowned a little. "Oh?"

"Don't worry, my love," Leslie assured him. "Camille said neither she nor Andrea is blaming us for Janine's antics. They're already starting a search for her, and Andrea's calling her former in-laws to let them know she's coming in case she got a big enough head start that she actually lands in Boston. Considering Janine, I bet she did. Something tells me she left on the earliest charter after Andrea went to work, so she could cover as much distance as possible before anyone realized she was gone."

Shaking his head, Christian returned the phone to its base. "We should have known she was serious."

"You did," Leslie reminded him. "Even Camille said it—if you hadn't thought it was, you wouldn't have bothered mentioning that Janine confided in you. And I wouldn't have passed on the word to Camille. Christian, my love, Janine isn't your responsibility, and you don't need to stew over it. Just let it go—Andrea's handling it. Camille told me we can head for London with clear consciences."

Christian strolled slowly back to the triplets' quilt, musing, "In a way, I feel sorry for her. She wanted so very badly to go back to her hometown." He looked up then and gave her a wry smile. "On the other hand, perhaps I won't have to deal with her crush any longer. That alone is enough to allow me to sleep tonight." He grinned at Leslie's laugh and settled down again with the triplets. She completed drying things and putting them away, with Christian's animated commentary in jordiska to the babies as background.

§ § § -- August 11, 2004

The Arcolosian royal jet turned out to be an extravagance that astonished even Christian, who'd grown up with opulence. It was outfitted with ten rows of plush, reclining seats, one seat on each side, and dividing these into two sections of five rows apiece was a table that could seat eight. The plane was outfitted with a galley, as well as a bathroom far more spacious than could normally be found on an aircraft, equipped with a shower. While the others stared on in amazement, Michiko demonstrated how the reclining seats could be tipped back far enough to sleep in and swiveled around so that their occupants could face one another and chat if they liked.

"Man," Jonathan mumbled, shaking his head. "No wonder people dream of being royalty…or at least marrying into it. This is unheard-of."

"Even in my experience," Christian agreed. "I imagine this was built to Errico's specifications—it has the unique flair of Arcolosian royalty."

Michiko burst out laughing. "That's the perfect way to put it, Christian! Yes, you're right, and more than that, Errico sent Paolono to Lilla Jordsö for a few weeks just so he could keep an eye on the builders and make sure they were following their instructions. I'm sure Errico will insist on sending you home in this as well."

"He shouldn't," Leslie said nervously.

"He will," Christian said, grinning at her. "That's how he is, my Rose. His family has far too much money and no real idea how to spend it."

"What about charities and so forth?" Leslie asked.

Michiko smiled. "I set up one of my own right after Errico and I were married," she said, "if you'll remember—my Worldwide Orphans Fund is still in operation, and I've also set up an account to provide scholarships to the children of the poorest Arcolosian families. And I'm always trying to change laws that treat women unfairly. Plenty of money goes into all these things, but there's just so much of it that Errico would hardly notice if I doubled the amounts that went into the funds, for instance. The gem mine's going to be closed till at least the end of the year, I understand, so I have a feeling Errico will find other ways to spend the money."

Christian chuckled and remarked, "Productive ones, I should hope. He obviously spared no expense on this plane, which undoubtedly helped the employees at Kronström & Dalby. Well, is there somewhere we can secure the triplets so they'll get through this with a minimum of fuss?"

Michiko summoned the crew members, and they helped get the triplets and little Princess Catalina settled for the long flights. Christian and Leslie chose to sit across the aisle from each other and well within sight of their children; Michiko sat behind Leslie with Catalina strapped securely in the seat behind her. The royal jet got clearance from the Honolulu airport tower, and soon they were in the air, relaxing and now and then talking about one thing or another. The meals were as sumptuous as the décor, making Christian shake his head. "Truly," he commented, "this makes us look like royal paupers. I don't dare mention this to my nieces and nephews, or else they're going to want one too—and that'll include Briella!" He chuckled ruefully at the laughter that brought on and flagged down one of their two flight attendants to ask about dessert.

It was dark when they landed at Heathrow, but Michiko was able to pick out the limo that had brought Errico to the airport to meet his wife and little daughter—not to mention the press cars gathered in rings beyond a fence, waiting to get photos and shout for interviews. "If they didn't know we were on the flight already," Leslie observed, "they will in a couple of minutes. When I was a kid, I used to think being famous would be fun. Now I wonder what on earth I was thinking."

"What?" Christian teased. "You don't enjoy the adulation and all the people waving at you and wishing you well and smiling?"

"Sure I do, just the same as you do," Leslie shot back, and he let out a loud, delighted laugh at that. The plane came to a stop, and they got out of their seats and began gathering up the triplets. Ingrid came forward from where she'd been sitting with Jonathan and took Susanna; Leslie held Karina and Christian carried Tobias. Michiko gathered up a sleepy Catalina, and Jonathan brought up the rear as they all progressed down the steps onto the tarmac, where bodyguards waited for them. Errico stood in the midst of them and hugged Michiko when she set foot on the ground, kissing Catalina's head and then brightening when he saw the Enstads descending.

"Now there's a surprise indeed!" he exclaimed in his usual expansive, ornate speech. "My dear old friend Prince Christian, his lovely wife Leslie, and their precious triplets." He slapped a slightly startled Christian on the back once the latter man's feet were on the ground; even little Tobias blinked and tried to turn his head to stare at the stranger. "It seems my dearest wife persuaded you to come with her after all and lend an ear to my campaign for a branch of your business in Santi Arcuros."

Christian stared blankly at him. "What?"

Michiko looked at Leslie, who groaned and turned red. "Oh no. I completely forgot, my love. Michiko wanted me to mention it to you, but that was the day you heard from Allegra Post and it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry."

Christian grinned. "No harm done, my Rose." To Errico he said, "As a matter of fact, I had already had half-baked plans to open a branch in Santi Arcuros, until I got the final tally for the cost of opening the London branch. It's coming along very well, but it hasn't quite paid for itself yet, and I had to shelve the Santi Arcuros project for the time being."

"Ah, I see, I see," Errico said, nodding thoughtfully. "Hmm, perhaps I can do something to expedite matters, then. I have money to burn."

"So we hear," Christian said dryly, and Michiko rolled her eyes. "Why don't we get some rest and try to readjust to the local time zone, Errico, and then we can discuss it when we're feeling more energetic. I'm actually here for a project with my London employees, and I'm planning to report tomorrow."

Errico shook his head and clucked his tongue, admonishing, "You can't begin working so soon after arrival, my dear old friend. You'll never remember all that you must, and I know you're well aware of it. You'll have a suite in the best hotel in the city, the same one where we ourselves are staying, and you're to have dinner with us. And then we shall relax tomorrow and perhaps discuss your Santi Arcuros project in the afternoon. No, no, you're not to object!" he commanded with mock sternness when Christian opened his mouth to protest. "If there's one thing I've always loathed, it's people who do nothing but work, nonstop, day and night, night and day, and think of nothing else. Life is not meant to be only toil and drudgery, no matter how much you enjoy your profession. The evening is for us to relax and for the children to get some sleep. Your young maid there can certainly watch the infants, and we have someone here to stay with Catalina, while we adults have some conversation and perhaps some good Vallomoros wine, yes?"

Leslie sighed wistfully. "It figures," she said. "Vallomoros wine is about the only wine I actually enjoy drinking…and I can't drink because I'm breast-feeding. I guess I'll have to settle for grape juice."

"Ah, fear not, dear Leslie, I shall have sparkling fruit juice brought for you!" Errico promised cheerfully. "And furthermore, I'll send some home with you when your project here is complete, Christian, my dear old friend, so that when she is no longer producing milk, she too may enjoy the fruits of our justly famous vineyard. Were you aware that my wayward brother, Carlono, has finally chosen a bride after all this time? Seniça Vallomoros, the heiress to the vineyard, is slated soon to become Princess Seniça. And it's certainly well past time for the event, I must say." He continued chatting in this vein while they climbed into the limo one by one, holding sleepy children and yawning.

An hour later Christian and Leslie, who had changed clothes at Michiko's insistence before coming up, were sitting in the main room of a luxurious penthouse suite at London's swankest hotel. It was just the four of them; Jonathan had decided to stay behind and keep Ingrid company while she stayed with the triplets. A lull had fallen in the conversation, which had revolved around Carlono's upcoming wedding to the heiress to Arcolos' only vineyard, and Michiko had just echoed Leslie's yawn. Errico looked around and grinned. "I believe we are keeping our dear wives awake, Christian, my friend."

"So it seems," Christian agreed with an amused look at Leslie. She made a face at him and Michiko laughed. "Perhaps you two might go off to our suite, my Rose, and talk girl talk if you prefer. I think Errico is eager to lay out plans for the Santi Arcuros branch of my business, even though I don't honestly think it's a good time just now."

"No, we're not that bored, Christian," Michiko said, laughing. "I see a particular twinkle in my husband's eye that tells me he has something up his sleeve."

"She knows me far too well, does my dearest wife," Errico said with a sigh, evoking more laughter. "In actual fact, my dear old friend, I did have an idea, and I beseech you to hear me out before you coldly reject it. You may or may not be aware that our old majordomo, Giohanno, has finally passed on to better things. For the first time we met his family: a son and a daughter, the former of whom came from his monastery to be with his dear father on his deathbed, the latter of whom has two adult children. Giohanno's granddaughter is somewhat younger than we, and we are told she wishes to change careers and start to work with computers. You would want her credentials and qualifications, Christian, of course, but it occurred to me then that you would be well served to employ her in a local branch of your business. And because we are longtime friends, and I understand that you are operating under a budget—a quaint thing, I must say, but understandable—I want to assume all responsibility for the expense. No, I requested that you hear me out!" the king exclaimed, seeing Christian's jaw drop.

"But it's too much!" Christian protested.

"Errico," Michiko said with weary affection, "I told you he'd have a problem with it."

Errico sighed and leaned back in his chair. "How strange, when one has the means and the desire to help an old friend, that everyone naysays the very thought. I have the perfect location in Santi Arcuros for you to set up shop, Christian, and already one potential employee, with many other qualified applicants who would be more than happy to come to work for you. You do have a reputation in the field, my dear friend, whether you know so or not. And that reputation has produced a certain demand in our corner of the Mediterranean Sea. They say if Lilla Jordsö and England and even tiny Fantasy Island merit their own branches, then why not Arcolos?"

"But I can't take your money," Christian said helplessly. "I can't claim to be remotely as wealthy as you are, of course…but I'm not destitute."

"No, of course you aren't," said Errico. "But I do know you for the thrifty man you are, an unusual quality in a royal. And I am also aware that this business of yours supplies your only income—by personal choice, no less, although of course I know that King Arnulf the First denied you access to your family's treasury, as did your late brother after him. To build a business, one needs must spend money, is this not so? Let me make this suggestion, Christian, my old friend: think of it as an investment by me. I relieve you of all the costs involved in starting a branch, and in return I am requesting that you donate five percent of your annual profits from that branch to one of my dear wife's charities. Now, tell me, does that make this any more palatable to you?"

Christian squirmed noticeably in his seat. "I have no objection to the donation of profits, but it still seems extravagant."

"Well, now, you consider the offer," Errico said, "and take as much time as you desire. I believe that when you've had a chance to look at it from all angles, you'll find it as attractive as I do, and we can begin to make arrangements. I shall leave it where it lies and let you ruminate upon it. And perhaps now you'll be willing to tell me what brings you to England."

"Ah, yes," Christian said and smiled, visibly relaxing. "My branch manager here sent me a message advising that a small but very successful shipwreck-search concern wants to have its computers upgraded and newly programmed, and its website overhauled. She told me they asked if I myself would kindly put my hand in the work, and I thought it would be a good opportunity to drop in on my London crew and find out how the business goes day to day, on a first-hand basis. I didn't want to leave Leslie behind, so we packed up the triplets and brought them along. My Fantasy Island accountant came with us to help my London accountant with the financial considerations. I'm to go in tomorrow."

"Tomorrow afternoon," Leslie said. "I don't think you'll be up to waking up that early, my love, especially when you factor in jet lag."

Christian grinned wryly and pointed out, "I may not have any choice, since I'm sure the triplets won't be affected by jet lag." They all laughed. "Well, no matter. I think perhaps it's time we retired for the night. Michiko, I have no doubt you're nearly as worn out as we are, and I'm sure you'd appreciate the chance to sleep as much as we."

"I certainly would," Michiko agreed, "especially before Errico and I have to meet with Queen Elizabeth this weekend. We have a good bit of preparation to do, and I want to be certain I'm up to it, because this is the first time I've met Her Majesty in all the years since I married Errico. He's met her on numerous occasions, all of them before Androno died, but I didn't accompany him on those trips. So I'm nervous, and before you say it, Leslie, I know perfectly well that I'm as much a queen as she is. But she was born into royalty and I wasn't. You should understand that explanation."

"More than you think," Leslie said, grinning. "Okay, I get it. And Christian's right, I'm really exhausted and looking forward to closing my eyes. Good luck with the meeting."

"And you with the project," Errico said, smiling. "A pleasant night to you both, then."

Finally alone in the hallway, Christian and Leslie looked at each other, strolling slowly to their own suite, each with an arm around the other. "Are you actually going to think over Errico's offer, or just pretend to in order to humor him?" Leslie asked.

Christian groaned softly and said, "I honestly think it's far too much. Besides, I'm not ready to go to all the trouble of preparing a building, getting all the office furniture and equipment together, and particularly screening applicants. Perhaps if you and I didn't have three infants to worry about, I might actually consider it." He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, then went on, "But even if I were ready to go through with it, I just can't see myself accepting the offer. Something about it just feels wrong…as if I were taking advantage, you see."

"But he made the offer," said Leslie, "you didn't ask him."

Christian looked at her oddly. "Are you on his side or mine?"

"Yours, my love, of course," she said, "but I'm just playing devil's advocate. Anyway, I have to agree with you on the timing. Maybe in a year or two when the triplets are a little more self-sufficient, hmm?"

"Perhaps so, yes," Christian said, yawning. "Forgive me, my Rose. You're right, I need my sleep as well. I'll call Allegra in the morning and let her know I'll be in after lunch."