The sleek black Jag crunched to a stop on the gravel driveway. Joseph hopped out to round the front of the vehicle so he could hold the door for the Queen. He smiled up at Clarisse as she descended the steps towards him. Charlotte was just a few steps behind, carrying her attaché case.
Clarisse stopped a few feet away and shook her head at her Head of Security. "Front," she said.
He frowned and indicated the open rear door. "Back," he replied.
"Front." She pretended to glare at him.
"Your Majesty, the back is much safer for you. The windows are more tinted and you've got more room, as well. I must insist that you sit in the rear seat." He kept his voice even and silky and tried not to laugh at the look she was giving him.
"Front, Joseph." She crossed her arms and lowered her voice a notch, playing up its husky qualities.
"But the – "
Clarisse raised an eyebrow at him.
Joseph sighed dramatically and slowly closed the back door.
"Front," he finally agreed.
"Lovely idea! Thank you, Joseph," she purred and patted his cheek as she stepped into the vehicle. He could only grin and close the door securely after her.
He stepped in himself and reached for the key to start the vehicle, while he regarded Clarisse out of the corner of his eye. She smiled over at him.
"You seem to be in an unusually good mood, Your Majesty."
"If I am, it is because I have a free afternoon."
"Really?" he asked hopefully.
"Yes. As soon as this lunch meeting is over, my time is my own. I can go where ever I want and do what ever I want. Or at least whatever you will let me get away with."
Joseph glanced at her with a cocked eyebrow, not exactly sure how to take the last part of her statement. He cleared his throat and studied the road once again. "So, what do you want to do?"
"I really have no idea. Maybe a drive along the coast?" She concentrated on the view outside the window as the scenery began to speed past them. "Do you have any suggestions?"
"Hmm…" He thought for a few minutes. "I think I've got an idea. I'll make some arrangements and we can leave directly from your meeting."
"Wonderful. Make whatever arrangements necessary. I'll leave it all up to you." She settled back in her seat, leaning her head back into the cushion and closing her eyes. Joseph concentrated on his driving.
After a moment or two, Clarisse opened her eyes just a slit. She surreptitiously watched Joseph navigate the twisting road into the city. This was the reason she'd wanted to sit in the front. She loved to watch him at the wheel of the palace's sportier cars. He had a passion for the speed and agility he could coax from the high powered machines. She had a passion for the play of the fabric of his trousers across the tight muscles of his thigh as he shifted gears and accelerated.
She was as surprised as he at the sound of the soft sigh escaping her lips.
He misinterpreted her sentiment and smiled over at her. "Dreading your meeting?"
"What? Oh - yes, I suppose so."
"Minister Dupree?"
She nodded. "That man absolutely pains me. I can't ever get him to finish a meeting on time at the palace. I was hoping the restaurant atmosphere might speed things up a bit. Maybe he won't like this chef as much as our Chef Tomas."
"I don't think it's Tomas he likes," Joseph observed wryly and punched the car into more speed. Clarisse was saved from replying by gripping the edge of the seat, trying to remain upright as Joseph attacked a curve.
"I don't really want to be early, Joseph, dear," she said somewhat shakily. He laughed in reply, but slowed down accordingly.
As Joseph drove, his eyes were drawn to Clarisse's high heeled shoes and silken stockings. She always dressed conservatively as would befit a head of state, but he loved to look at her shoes. They always seemed to betray something of her personality; something hidden behind the public façade. The suits she wore might have been taken from Margaret Thatcher's closet but the shoes were always more like something Madonna would wear. This incongruity fascinated him and he was beginning to wonder if he was developing some kind of fetish.
He cleared his throat a trifle self-consciously and asked, "Which is your favorite dress shop in Pyrus, Clarisse?"
"Madeline's. Why?"
"You can't have an afternoon off in those clothes," he said.
"Oh!" She looked down at her skirt and adjusted her suit jacket. "Well, I guess we can go back to the palace and I could change…"
"No, I just needed the name of your favorite shop." Joseph flipped open a cell phone and slowed the car even more while placing a call. "I'm not going to take you back to the palace and give you a chance to back out of taking the afternoon off." After getting the number and being connected to the shop, Joseph identified himself to the proprietor.
"Madame, Her Majesty requires a complete outfit for an afternoon drive up the coast. Can you arrange that within the next 2 hours?" He paused while she answered. "Yes, everything, head to toe." Another pause. "Let me check." He looked at Clarisse and mouthed "What color?"
She shrugged and said "White?"
"Too formal," Joseph answered.
She rolled her eyes and indicated his clothing with a wave of her hand. "Fine. Black, then."
He grinned and shook his head.
She sighed loudly and said, "Is blue acceptable?"
"Perfect!" He notified the Madame Madeline of Clarisse's choice and hung up the phone. Within a few more minutes, the Jaguar pulled to a smooth stop in front of their destination.