Part 2

Clarisse peered down into the small pond and quickly stood up again.

"Your pond doesn't smell too healthy." She said absently.

"No, I've been telling Martin for months to clear it out, the reply is always the same, 'when winter has passed'."

"How is he?" Clarisse asked turning.

"Oh he's the same, fine, the same." Rose shrugged. "And you're avoiding the subject."

Clarisse continued to stroll around the garden. "I'm not avoiding it, I'm merely thinking of the best way to broach it."

"No need for niceties around me Clarisse, just tell me."

"I don't know where to start." She stopped by the edge of the garden leaning on the stonewall and closing her eyes as the breeze ruffled her hair.

"Did you sleep with him?"

"Rose!" She spun round to face her sister.

"Well it's a fact, it's what people do, so did you?"

Taking a deep breath Clarisse shook her head. "No, no I didn't. He wanted…" She hesitated. "I couldn't. I would be just another mistress." She shrugged moving to sit on the bench next to Rose. "There were many reasons… I can't explain."

Rose rested her hand atop of Clarisse's. "Why don't you just start at the beginning?"

Closing her eyes again Clarisse leant her head on her sister's shoulder. "I'm not sure where the beginning is…"

"Well was it instant, some raw attraction, come on tell me it was lust at first sight."

Clarisse laughed despite her heavy heart. "No, afraid not, at least not for me, though he says…"

"For him?" Rose tilted her head to look at Clarisse's face.

"Yes, he says it was instant."

"Lust?"

"Worse."

"Love?"

Clarisse nodded lifting herself up and leaning forward. "Oh it's so good to be home, did you see my car, do you like it? Do you realise it's the first vehicle I've bought in years."

"It's very nice, but Clarisse, you're not explaining why you're here."

"I'm trying… it isn't easy. This kind of thing isn't normal."

"You never were normal, normal is me, married and kids… the opposite is you, jet setting and extravagant."

"A house keeper is hardly extravagant."

"We're not talking housekeeper of some run down B and B, we're talking the royal housekeeper."

"Rose." She sighed standing up. "I'm trying to forget."

"Fine, tell me and then we'll move on."

"You're still stubborn."

"As are you." She crossed her legs. "Come on, it's not every day my sister gets it on with a King."

"We did not 'get it on'."

"But something did happen outside the realms of a reasonable every day working relationship."

Clarisse inhaled deeply. "Yes… yes something happened."

"Right, now we're getting somewhere." Rose patted the bench next to her. "Now sit down and take it from the top. How did it start?"

Clarisse sat down and folded her hands in her lap. "I've already told you I'm not sure how it started."

"Fine, then I'll try a different tact… how did you meet?"

"The first time?"

Rose nodded. "Yes, the first time."


King Joseph was a lonely man; it was something not only observed by his closest family and friends but by his staff, his bodyguards, his gardeners and the inhabitants of Genovia. Having been a widower since his wife's death some fifteen years previous he was at the age of fifty-four settled in his way of life and to the casual observer a stubborn man.

On the morning of June 3rd he rose as usual promptly at 6:30 a.m. and, after dressing, made his way down to the stables. There he saddled his new mare and disappeared into the early morning mists.

An hour later he returned to his suite for a shower and change, took a quick breakfast in his room whilst looking over the papers then emerged in his office for the day's briefing.

He would never recall what was said that morning in its entirety but he recalled the words his chief advisor Richard had spoken.

"Oh and the new housekeeper is here, a Miss. Arcenciel. Doesn't start officially until next week but is eager to get started. Should I arrange a meeting?"

Joseph continued to doodle on the bottom of his diary. "Where is she now?"

"I'm not sure Sir, looking over the garden when I greeted her this morning. Luckily we had her room vacated last week, she's free to move straight in."

"Fine…" He drifted off. "Seems rather odd, arriving early."

"Dedicated to her work I believe, worked at Windsor for some time in the early eighties I believe. Highly recommended."

"I'm sure. Strict?" He glanced up.

"Not so one would notice."

"Alright, then I suppose I might as well get it over with as soon as possible. Arrange something, afternoon tea, something polite, let's show her the Genovian palace can be just as elegant as Windsor."

"Yes sir, now next item on the agenda is your son's Birthday. You were scheduled to be in Spain, should I cancel the meeting?"

"No, no talk to Pierre, organise something for the day before I leave, or after I return." His voice drifted off again as he gazed out the window.

"Of course your majesty."


Richard Morgan was a tall dashingly handsome young man; all blonde hair and blue eyes and he towered over Clarisse even in her heels. She'd caught him off guard she realised that, arriving a few days early. She'd done it on purpose of course to catch them out, if anything was lacking she would certainly find it whilst they fussed over her.

However they seemed highly organised and she was impressed. The last housekeeper had left rather abruptly two months ago yet the staff appeared to be ticking along like clockwork. She wondered how her intrusion would be viewed.

Rounding the corner she became aware of how her shoes clicked on the marbled floor, how eerily loud it was, or was it how quiet the palace was? Richard strode on just ahead of her after mumbling a few words about how the King liked to be addressed and what questions she might expect him to ask. By all accounts the man functioned as a machine, everything was impeccably timed, each detail exquisite in its execution and nothing, ever, out of place.

She liked him already.


Left alone to wait in his majesty's office she took the opportunity to have a look around his bookcases, she preferred to think of herself as naturally inquisitive as opposed to nosey. Though she was reminded of her mother's disapproval when they'd offered to water their holidaying neighbours plants and Clarisse had spent all her time flicking through their record collection.

Hearing footsteps approaching she quickly moved back to the chair Richard had indicated she use and stood waiting for him to arrive.

He breezed into the room shuffling through the papers in his hand, glasses resting on his nose, he appeared oblivious to her presence then stopped abruptly at his desk and looked her over.

"Oh, good morning, Miss, erm," he rubbed his forehead. "Don't tell me I haven't forgotten…"

Clarisse couldn't help but smile.

"Miss. Arcenciel."

She remembered Richard told her never to curtsy and instead offered her hand to him. "Good morning your majesty."

"Good morning…" He appeared to stumble on his words for a moment. "Shall we order some Tea?"

"That would be lovely thank you."


Clarisse stared out of the window at the rain, leaning on the worktop as she spoke.

"He told me, some time afterwards, that he remembered exactly what I wore that day, even down to my shoes."

Rose spoke gently, afraid of upsetting the mood. "And what did you wear that day?"

"Just a suit, a beige suit I think, the jacket had black edging though along here…" She indicated with her hand. "Nothing special."

"Obviously he thought so."

"Perhaps…"

"And what happened?"

"Nothing, we had our tea and discussed work related issues. He asked me how I felt about leaving England, I told him I had travelled widely over the years, that it didn't bother me. He told me about some Genovian customs that I might find odd, about the weather for that time of year. It was just a short 'welcome to the palace' conversation."

"Well quite plainly he found something more in it." Rose handed Clarisse a knife. "You can cut the potatoes, Martin will be home soon."

Clarisse glared momentarily then rolled her sleeves up. "Quite plainly he was mistaken."

"Was he? He was attracted to you immediately, it's not uncommon. To say he fell in love with you immediately, now that would be insane."

"He isn't insane."

"Old and lonely."

"He's a year younger than me."

"Well then, I hit the nail on the head." She handed her a potato. "Didn't I dear."

"You're very funny."

"And very accurate. What happened next?"

"What do you mean what happened next?" Clarisse glanced at her nails as she began to cut the vegetables.

"I mean how did you go from a welcome chat to a full blown love affair?"

"It was hardly that. We just, well, I suppose bumped into each other every now and then. We had the obligatory staff meeting but apart from that I often found he was just where I was."

"Sounds curiously suspicious."

"Maybe, I don't know ohhh…" Frustrated she dropped the potato into the pan of water. "He wasn't stalking me, he didn't pressurise, it wasn't that. It's just… I'd be walking by the lake, or looking at the roses and he'd be there. He liked to ride, every morning, 6:45 prompt and I'd always be up and around by then and we'd just meet. He always took the time to say good morning to me, to ask how I was. It never occurred to me that he didn't do the same for every member of staff."

"Obviously he found our Clarisse had that little something that caught his fancy."

"Rose don't! It wasn't like that, I never saw him like that… you make him sound like some vulgar letch."

"All right, if you say he isn't I believe you. Hurry with the potatoes or dinner will be late. Are you staying?"

"Am I invited?"

"Of course I want the rest of the story, do you have anywhere booked?"

"No I was relying on you until the house is ready." Clarisse smiled endearingly.

"Good job I'm kind hearted." She leant forward and kissed her sister's forehead. "Now, what happened next? Apart from these random meetings by the lake, how romantic dear by the way."

"It isn't a novel."

"It's better, it's real. Now go on."

"I don't know what to tell you, for two months that was it, I worked hard, I tried to gently coax the staff into working my way whilst avoiding ruffling feathers. We just, I just spoke with him every now and then, passed a few minutes commenting on how groomed the grass was."

"Fascinating, but something must have happened that went beyond that."

"Yes, something did. He went to France."

"And?" Rose moved past Clarisse opening the fridge and taking out butter and cream. "You want to chop the parsley?"

"Sure, might as well ruin the nails completely." She picked up the knife and laid the parsley on the chopping board. "And he went to France for a week, when he returned it was almost the height of Summer and so very hot. I was out walking one night, it was late, I couldn't sleep."

"And?"

"And I didn't realise he'd returned, I thought he would be back the following Tuesday, it was only Friday. I walked to the fountain and, oh dear…"

"What, what did you do?"

"I sat with my feet in the fountain."

"Ha! Touché."


Clarisse sighed contented and dropped her head back, her skirt was raised up her legs and as she trailed her toes through the cool water she flicked the moisture up her legs.

"So I'm not the only one who enjoys a midnight stroll?"

She lifted her head hastily and moved her eyes to the figure in the darkness.

Joseph stepped forward holding his hand's up. "Sorry didn't mean to startle you."

"Your majesty! Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were back… I mean. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I'm the one who invaded your moment of relaxation."

She went to lift her feet from the water and climb out.

"Please don't, feel free to stay there it looks great. In fact." He stepped closer to her. "Would you mind if I joined you? My feet are killing me. Too many parades up and down the intensely hot streets of France."

She smiled. "Not at all sir."

He removed the shoes he was wearing and rolled his trousers up, sitting next to her, but not too close, he audibly sighed as his feet sunk down into the water.

"Oh that's better."

Clarisse could think of nothing to say so merely remained quiet, looking up at the clear night sky. Her arms were bare in the summer dress and she shivered slightly as a light breeze passed.

"You're cold?"

"Sorry? Oh no sir not at all, I like it."

"Ahh, good. So, how are things?" He said gently.

"Things are well thank you."

"You're happy here."

"Yes."

"Good, good. You've certainly made some visible changes… all good ones I might add. The flowers decorating the palace are a joy, wonderful, brightens up the place. You certainly live up to your name."

She glanced sideways at him curious.

"Miss. Rainbow."

"Ahh," She blushed slightly and looked down at the water, how distorted her feet seemed beneath the surface.

"Tell me, you were born in England, were your parents French? That is, if you don't mind my asking."

"No, I don't mind you asking. My parents were both English, my husband was French."

"Oh, you're married?"

"Was, we divorced many years ago, I married young and divorced a few years later." She shrugged. "Wasn't meant to be."

"We all make mistakes."

"Yes we do, quite large ones every now and then."

"How did you meet him?" He blurted out then shook his head. "Sorry, it's none of my business."

"I don't mind, I was working in France at the time, well I was a student. He was charming and kind and lots of fun. Very un-English gentleman."

"Ah, so you don't like gentleman?"

"I do now, I didn't appreciate them back then."

She was smiling and he found himself smiling back, in fact he couldn't escape the warm feeling that was circling his stomach.

"Amélioration avec l'âge?"

"Oui, je pense ainsi."

His smile grew and he lost sense of who he was. "May I call you Clarisse?"

"Erm, yes, of course."

"Thank you. You know Clarisse it's a long time since I had such a pleasant conversation with anyone."

Startled she sat back, not realising she was holding her breath.

"It's not often I get the chance to, for some strange reason people get edgy around me." He wasn't looking at her; he was amusing himself flipping his toes out of the water.

"I can understand why sir."

"As do I…" He looked up at her smiling, his eyes sparkling beneath the dusky light of the fountain lamps. "Tell me, where did you grow up?"

"Devon, mostly. London for a while, when I was a teenager."

"Ahh, I don't know Devon, London though, vibrant city."

"Yes it is." She lifted her feet from the water and turned around sliding her feet into the fragrant grass.

"The accent?"

"Sorry?"

He turned around to join her, reaching for his shoes. "Your accent is perfect."

"Years of practice, one must know how to speak properly if you want to work in these circles, if you'll pardon my saying so sir."

He nodded. "Speak at will, this is off the record, and please stop calling me sir. It's Joseph."

"I don't think that's appropriate." She stood up linking her hands behind her back. "It's getting late."

"Yes it is, I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend you."

"You haven't." Her face softened. "I enjoy talking to you too sir… sorry."

"Don't be." He grabbed his shoes and stood up. "I think I might continue to peruse the grounds for a while." He held his hand out. "Thank you Clarisse, feel free to use the fountain anytime."

She couldn't help but laugh, he found himself enchanted by it. "Goodnight your majesty."

He dipped his head, just slightly. "Bonne nuit, Clarisse."

She was grinning as she walked away.


Hope you're enjoying reading as much as I am writing! x R