Worlds Apart
Chapter 16
A Christmas Wish
"Here ye are, Ma'am. Hot cocoa on a snowy Christmas Eve!" Gerta bent to place the inlaid tray on the low table, and stole a quick look at Her Majesty. If anyone could use a picking up, it was the queen.
"Thank you," Clarisse answered absently. It was a moment before she noticed the large pot and two mugs. "I'm sorry- I only requested a cup for myself."
"Oh, better to have extra than not enough! I hope you enjoy the cocoa, Ma'am," the cook replied quickly as she poured the hot, thick drink. Gerta bobbed a curtsy and hurried to where her husband was at the door, waiting.
"Will there be anything else, Your Majesty?" he asked solemnly, giving his wife a conspiratorial wink.
"No, that will be all for tonight, thank you and good night." Clarisse replied, once again staring at the tree.
"Very good, Your Majesty." The door had barely shut behind them before Gerta rounded on her husband. Before she could speak, he cut her off. "No, we won't interfere any more than that," he insisted. "Joseph will be along shortly on his rounds."
"But, what if he doesn't find her?" she asked worriedly. "The queen might sit there by herself-"
"He will," Cates repeated confidently. He slipped his arm around Gerta. "And, I must say…your plan is an excellent one."
Hesitating just long enough to make sure the hallway was empty, Cates kissed his wife soundly.
The jeweled lights of the tree and briskly burning fire cast changing shadows as soft music whispered serenely about the figure huddled on the couch. Her heart heavy, Clarisse sighed, her cocoa forgotten as she recalled earlier Christmases with the excited shouts of her son filling the room. Philippe…
She missed him so very much. He should be alive and with her.
It was a comfort, at least, that she had Amelia. And, within a few years, there would be great-grandchildren scampering about excitedly, fighting sleep and begging to be allowed to stay up just a little while longer. The hall would ring with voices and laughter as the tree was trimmed and lit. But, this year, as she had since Rupert and Philippe's death, she asked the staff decorate it.
So many years had gone by, hopes and dreams lost along with her husband and her only child. And here she was…. If it were not for Mia, there would be no one. The lights of the tree became blurred and the colors watery as a tear trickled slowly down her cheek.
His hand on Mel's shoulder as he leaned closer, Joseph looked at the four pictures displayed on the monitor one last time then stood. It was Christmas Eve and he had two relatively inexperienced agents on tonight, but Shades was pulling night shift and would be watching over them.
He himself would come back in the morning at 0600 for the day so that Shades could be home with his family and, if Joseph was not mistaken, Miss Kutaway. Pearson, Hans, and Anton were splitting the morning and afternoon shifts between them. Joseph didn't mind working Christmas; he nearly always had. Christmas was for families and children and he had neither.
This Christmas would be a quiet one at the palace- no excursions or meetings for Her Majesty, and other than the Prime Minister's traditional visit in the evening, there were no visitors expected. For this reason, he was not concerned about his minimal staff; the palace was still more secure than how he'd found it when he first arrived years ago.
There was no need for extra agents to cover Princess Mia, either. Wanting to spend her last Christmas before her coronation with her mother and stepfather, Mia did not come to Genovia during her break from school. For the first time, Clarisse was alone.
He bid goodnight to the young man and made his way to the family side of the palace. More out of habit than need, Joseph walked the quiet hallways, checking rooms as he went. He wondered again if he should simply stay at the palace rather than go to his apartment.
His days lasting until the late hours, it seemed he rarely saw his apartment during daylight. He liked his small rooms in the old building across from the White River, even if he was seldom there. The area of town was not the flashier area that housed brightly lit hotels, tourist shops, and fashionable restaurants, but it was full of charm and had a mix of cultures he found very comfortable.
Everyone knew him; he patronized the shops in his neighborhood and had only to call and order what he needed. At times, sitting on his small balcony watching the unending rush of water and bustle of everyday life below him, he almost felt at home.
Hearing music, his footsteps slowed and then paused outside the room in which the Renaldi tree was traditionally placed. There was only one person who could be in there. He opened the door.
The room was a large one and had been used as a family room in the past. Across the dimly lit space stood the family's tree and a seating area. On the couch, opposite the fire, Clarisse had turned at his entrance.
"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Your Majesty." He stood in the doorway, uncertain. "I was making my rounds…"
"You haven't disturbed me, Joseph," she replied, leaning on her elbow. He thought her eyes looked overly bright in the reflected twinkling lights. "I was just sitting here, thinking…"
"Do you require anything?" he asked, stepping into the room. Clarisse sounded tired and not quite like herself.
"No, nothing. Come join me- unless you were on your way home? I've lost track of time- it is late, isn't it?"
Joseph pushed the door closed and walked slowly toward her. "Yes, nearing midnight." He hesitated. The two side chairs had been place against the walls to make room for the tree and antique porcelain manger scene, leaving only the couch.
Sitting up straighter as he approached, Clarisse didn't seem to notice his dilemma. She was wearing a loose rose-colored robe with a collar of white satin showing at her throat and had on no make-up. She was lovely.
"Have a seat and try this cocoa," she said reaching for the insulated pot. "It's very good."
"Thank you," he said, taking the mug she'd offered. It was warm and sweet and he sipped it, relaxing against the leather cushion.
Leaning back, with her arms folded and her cup in hand, Clarisse propped her sock-covered feet on the table and wiggled her toes. Realizing what she'd done, she looked toward Joseph, embarrassed.
"I won't tell Miss Parker," he whispered. She smiled and let her head rest against the cushion, her feet staying comfortably were they were.
"Thank you. She can be quite intimidating, you know."
"Don't I," he agreed under his breath. A holiday song began and he gave the tree a closer look. "As always, the tree is beautiful, Your Majesty."
"Yes, it is. My lady's maids did a good job of it." Clarisse shrugged. "Next year, I'm sure Mia will want us to decorate it together."
Her words sounded more hopeful than certain.
"Family tradition- that's where memories are made," he observed.
"Yes, that is true," she replied, a smile coming to her lips. "When I was a child, my grandmother insisted on the family getting together to celebrate. There were sleigh rides - when it snowed, of course- parties and dinners every weekend. We children would play outside till nearly frozen, then huddle by the fire and drink chocolate to thaw out."
Her face glowing with the sweet memories, she was more exquisite than ever. He turned so that he was facing her, an arm resting on the back of the couch. Never would he tire of watching Clarisse Gerard Renaldi.
It was tempting to slip his arm around her, perhaps draw her close for a kiss. But, he had never made such an overture in all the years he'd known her. It was a line he could not cross. Any apprehension between them would severely jeopardize his ability to provide security and he needed her absolute faith and trust to do his job. Joseph pushed the thought aside.
"On Christmas morning we would all rush downstairs and steal a look through the drawing room door. Our parents warned us not to wake them, but we always managed to make the right amount of noise to avoid punishment yet rouse the adults." She laughed. "To be honest, I think they were already up before we were and were just waiting to see how long we could stand it before they came out of their rooms!"
He chuckled, picturing the sight of Clarisse as a young girl, wide-eyed as the drawing room doors were flung open. She turned sideways to see him, drawing her legs up on the couch, and tucked them under her.
"What were your Christmases like, Joseph?"
His laughter died, but he forced the smile to remain as he placed his cup on the table.
What should he tell her? The truth? What would she think?
If they were one day to become closer- as he hoped they would with all his heart-, she would learn a part of it then. Perhaps it was time to start building the bridge between them.
Clarisse was waiting.
"My parents, they were…" he began awkwardly. He would not mention his father. "I was very young when left in the care of my grandmother after my mother died." Joseph looked away, to the fire. "It was difficult for her… there was no money for presents, but I can remember walking in the snow to midnight services and the choir singing hymns. The candles glowing in the church were beautiful- I think that was what impressed me the most."
Her smile faded, her brow wrinkling. Was it pity? Joseph took a deep breathe and continued.
"After she died, I was at a boarding school. The holidays were what you would imagine at a school for boys," he explained simply. Perhaps he should have garnished the truth more.
"Oh, Joseph, I didn't know," Clarisse whispered. "I didn't mean to-"
"You haven't," he said quickly. He did not want her pity. "I made friends at school and spent later holidays at the Helmar home. It was much like your own Christmases- playing in the snow, holiday parties, decorating the tree…"
The memory of that first holiday was still as vivid as the morning it occurred. It had been his first real Christmas, at age fourteen, and he'd had to hide his tears of surprise at finding presents with his name on them under the tree.
"The Helmars- that would be the parents of the young ballerina?"
"Yes, Julia Warren. She is Maria's daughter- Maria is Marcus Helmar's sister," he explained. In past years, he had spent several Christmases in France with them and they were memories he treasured.
Clarisse smiled.
"She's in her mid-twenties, now," he added. "Says she's in love."
"Time has a way of going by too fast," she said wistfully. "Suddenly, the future you thought would never arrive is already yesterday."
"A beautiful queen and a wise philosopher," he observed, grateful the topic was no longer on his childhood. She laughed and leaned her head against the couch, gazing openly at him.
They sat quietly, enjoying the moment of companionship, neither feeling the need to speak. A log fell, sending up a shower of sparks. On the radio, an instrumental began and
Clarisse began to hum along, singing a few words then stopped, apologizing.
"No, please continue." She had a lovely voice.
"It's one of my favorites," she admitted, "although I very rarely hear it now. It brings back memories of lively parties and dance cards filled with the names of young men eager to make a favorable impression." She laughed, leaning back again, her hair ruffled from her fingers.
"Is Your Majesty's card full?" Joseph asked, coming to his feet. "Or is there an opening for a not-so-young man who very much wishes to make a good impression?"
Clarisse giggled. "My card is empty and you certainly should not worry about impressing me, Joseph."
"But I do, Your Majesty," he answered lightly, giving her a smile. They were alone and he did not think she would refuse. Joseph held out his hand.
After a moment's surprise at the fact that he was serious, she took it. Her hand on his shoulder, the other clasped in his, they began to move slowly with the music.
"I can't believe I'm dancing in my pajamas!" Clarisse laughed, laying her head on his shoulder.
"If you were dressed in a ball gown and jewels, you could not be more beautiful to me, my queen," he answered, feeling her relax in his arms.
"Oh, Joseph…you are so good for me." Clarisse moved closer, sighing. "Sometimes…"
"Yes?" He held her a bit closer. She smelled faintly of roses.
"Sometimes I worry about the future…I'm uncertain of what will happen this summer." He felt her tense in his arms.
"You are concerned for Mia?" asked, pulling away slightly to look at her. He was personally overseeing the plans for the transition of security details and wanted the changeover to be as stress-free as possible for Clarisse.
"No, not at all. It's more for myself, really. I've been a royal since I was twenty-one years old, a queen for over thirty," she explained. She met his eyes and he could see the anxiety in them. Her hand tightened on his shoulder. "Joseph, how do I go about simply being …well, an ex-queen?"
"You could turn your attention to other interests," he answered carefully.
"I haven't really thought about it," she said slowly. "I want to see Mia take the throne and come to stand on her own, however beyond that…"
"I've heard you mention you miss having time for your horses," he offered. She felt wonderful in his arms, so soft and warm.
"Yes, I would love to spend time working with my horses." Her voice lifted. "Perhaps I could even show them again."
"And gardening?"
"Definitely," Clarisse agreed, laying her head back on his shoulder. "I'd like to try my hand at designing something less formal than a rose garden."
"I used to think I would want to travel," Joseph said thoughtfully. "But now, I'm not so certain I care to, even if there are places I've not visited."
"The thought of not leaving one's home for the entire day or even the week sounds simply marvelous," she murmured contentedly. They danced a few minutes in silence, not noticing the song had ended and a new one had begun.
"Perhaps the future is nothing to worry over, after all." Clarisse sighed, snuggling closer. "I don't know what I would do without you, Joseph."
He held her as close as he dared, whispering, "I am always yours, my queen."
Across the room, a clock chimed midnight. Their steps slowed and he lifted her hand to his lips, letting it linger, then wished her a Merry Christmas and goodnight.
Joseph had to admit he was very pleased with what he'd seen at the militia's First Response training camp. When he took over the job seven years ago and sought to make reforms in the country's services, he knew it would be a long time before his plans bore fruit. Reorganizing policies and missions, retraining staff and troops, and weeding out old leaders who would not change had literally taken years. But, now the programs were going strong and he felt his job at an end.
It had been a combination of King Rupert's backing, and later of Queen Clarisse, along with the approval of Parliament that had paved the way for reform. Promised a ceremony worthy of a conquering hero, General Bonetti had retired, opening the way for new leadership. Genovia's small armed forces had been reorganized around public defense and safety.
His invitation to visit the camp was a courtesy from the new Commander of Military Instruction and Joseph appreciated the opportunity to see the results. The young officer had asked dozens of questions and Joseph left with the impression that the major would one day make a very fine senior officer. In truth, he had enjoyed the time discussing military issues.
The visit, however, had not taken nearly as long as he planned, so having an extra hour he decided to take a different route to Pyrus, the capitol where the palace was located. It was a back road, more for local traffic, and the area was an unfamiliar one.
Pastures stippled with spring wildflowers were interspersed with forests of hardwoods. Here and there were old houses resting serenely on working farms. Cows dotted the countryside laced by meandering low, stacked walls. It had a peace about it one did not find when close to the city.
Joseph chose Chopin's Nocturne for Piano No. 8 from the discs in the player and let the music wash over him as he slowed the Mercedes to take a gentle curve. As he rounded the corner, the trees gave way to a stunning view of rolling hills covered with a carpet of thick, green grass bordered by dense woodland. In a copse near a small lake, a portion of a slate roof was visible. Curving to the southeast, a small river glittered its way along the western border. The sight nearly took his breath away.
Just over two kilometers further, he came to a gated entrance. Curious as to who lived in such an idyllic setting, he pulled over to read the name on the small sign attached to the wrought iron; he was familiar with all of Genovia's more affluent citizens since they were frequently at official events, but to his surprise, it listed not the owner's name but information on how to contact a realtor. Apparently, the estate was for sale.
The gate was unlocked. Joseph debated for a moment before continuing slowly down the drive.
Centuries-old trees arched overhead, their limbs filled with the bright green of newly unfurled leaves. He lowered his window and the scent of sweet, damp earth surrounded him; it was a heady feeling unlike any he'd ever experienced.
Fifteen minutes later, Joseph stood on the wide graveled yard, gazing at the front of a rambling two-story stone house with Clarisse's words of Christmas Eve returning.
"Good afternoon, sir!" called a portly, red-faced man from the front door.
"Good afternoon," Joseph replied. "I hope you don't mind my trespassing."
"Not at all. Make yourself at home!" the man laughed, crossing the yard to him.
"I'm Joseph Coraza," Joseph said, offering his hand. The man shook it.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Bertram Hollis- the agent looking after the sale of Stone Manor." Hollis shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded toward the house then the pastures beyond. "It's a fine estate. Are you interested in raising stock? There's over forty-six square kilometers of parkland and pasture."
Joseph laughed. "I'm afraid I know very little in that area."
"Farming?"
He shook his head. "My line of work is more in security issues."
Hollis looked closely at Joseph, his eyes widening a fraction. "You watch over Her Majesty, do you not?"
"Yes," Joseph replied uncomfortably. He changed the subject quickly. "May I look around?"
"Certainly! I'd be pleased to show you the house. Come this way."
Joseph followed Hollis for the next half hour, walking up and down stairs and hallways, peering into rooms and closets. The condition of the house was best described as neglected elegance. Intricate parquet flooring contrasted with chipped plaster and peeling paper in the worst areas, but in the rooms kept up by its former owners the beauty of the old home shone.
The rooms were spacious, bright, and airy. While the northern side of the house was in deep shade, the views from the other windows were lovely. In the far distance, mountains were visible.
They exited through a backdoor that led into what was once a kitchen garden bordered by a tall, vine covered wall. Joseph could smell the sweet scent of herbs. Off to the side was a greenhouse, its glass roof still intact.
"The gardens don't look like much, I'll admit, but with a season's worth of sweat by a knowledgeable hand, they could be spectacular. Here, let me show you the fountain. It was designed by Antonio Sanchez- a beautiful work. The piping's solid, but it needs a new pump."
As they walked through the formal garden, also sorely in need of attention, Hollis explained to him the estate's history, but Joseph's mind was busy imagining what Clarisse would make of the three separate gardens connected by common walls. He knew how to work hard and sweat, but what he knew of garden design came solely from listening to Clarisse during their evening walks in her rose garden. Even so, he judged the overgrown beds and paths to be well laid-out. Bringing them back to their full glory would most assuredly be an interesting challenge for her.
"How is the land suited for a stable, Mr. Hollis?"
"Very well suited, indeed!" Hollis waved a hand and started out the back gate of the larger garden. "Follow me."
There were numerous outbuildings and among them was a generously sized stable with eight stalls. It was clean and appeared to have recently been renovated. Joseph glanced inside the tack room.
"The former owners kept horses, so the stables are in good condition," Hollis explained. "But, if you are interested in breeding or keeping more stock than just for casual riding, you might consider expanding." He swept an arm broadly toward the fields as they walked back out into the sunshine. "Plenty of trails to ride, a good mix of hills and level ground. Beyond that meadow there's a lake with an old cottage and mill- very picturesque."
Gardens and plenty of room for horses. They had returned to the front of the house and Joseph took a deep breath. If too close to the palace and affairs of the country, Joseph knew Clarisse would never truly relax and enjoy her retirement. Stone Manor was under two hours from the city- less by helicopter, if necessary- and was even further removed from its politics. Life would be slower here; they could take time to enjoy themselves and each other.
But, would Clarisse approve?
When she turned the crown over to Princess Mia, Clarisse would have three castles to choose from to be her residence, in addition to properties the Renaldi family held in Genovia and other countries, as well as her private apartments at the palace. Would she consider a home like this?
Would she see the house as too small or rustic? Clarisse was accustomed to living in a spacious palace; newcomers frequently became lost in its maze of corridors and floors. His gaze swept across the façade, imagining how it would look when repaired. The main portion of the house consisted of twelve rooms, not including the kitchen and three small staff rooms back of it. In each of the two additions to either side, there were another four rooms.
With work, he was certain the house would be very comfortable and livable. While there were funds available for wherever she planned to live, if Stone Manor was to be their home -their own home- he needed to bear the bulk of the expense himself. He wanted their life to be as normal as possible.
"May I have inspections made before considering further?" he asked, coming to a decision.
"Please do. If you wish, I can have someone send you a report, or you may have your own man look it over," Hollis replied, pulling a card out from his pocket. "Either way, just let me know and I'll see to it."
Joseph's gaze swept over the house and surrounding land one more time. He and Clarisse would be happy here. He knew they would.
Two weeks later, Joseph made a quick trip to the village near Stone Manor to sign a six-month purchase option on the estate. Now, all he had to do was ask Clarisse to marry him.