The Prince's Bride Read online

  Jonas said briskly, “Almost certainly not. I think he’s dislocated that shoulder.”

  “Then he’ll need one of us to drive ...”

  Jonas laughed and shook his head, following the boys to Peter’s truck. The leader was sitting in the passenger seat, drinking from a flask. He had a little more colour in his face.

  “Brandy,” he said in heavily accented English, waving it at them. “Klaus left it for us.” He nodded to Hope. “He said to tell you, you were amazing.”

  “Thank you. About driving you home ...”

  But Jonas shook his head. “No need.” He said something to the leader, clearly translating.

  They both laughed heartily.

  “What?” she said, bristling but sticking to her guns. “If he can’t drive ...”

  “Darling Hope, he has the company of two teenage boys, both of whom are just dying to drive that thing.”

  “But ...”

  “And are perfectly competent to do so.” Then in his own language she guessed he said, “Get going. We’ll follow as soon as I’ve stowed the gear.”

  The Scout Leader nodded. He raised his hand with a manifest effort in a gesture of farewell. “Thank you, signorina. I hope we see you again. Let’s go, boys.”

  Hope and Jonas made for the Antons’ 4X4. But Hope saw over her shoulder that both boys were grinning. One scrambled into the back of the cabin, while the other leaped into the driving seat. He handled the steering wheel with serene confidence, Hope saw, and he started the truck smoothly. As it passed the 4X4 he turned his head and gave them a cheeky grin.

  “Told you,” murmured Jonas.

  He opened the passenger door of the Antons’ 4X4 and rummaged in the back seat for the dog blanket. “You’re shivering. You need to get out of your wet things. And have a swig of this.”

  Jonas opened the flask. The top was the size of a shot glass, made of silver. He splashed a generous tot of brandy into it and passed it across to her.

  “Drink. It will warm you up. Try and dry off as much as you can. I’ll be back.”

  Before she could answer he had turned and run back into the trees to collect the rest of the equipment. It took him two journeys.

  Hope didn’t like brandy but she had a couple of sips and had to admit it warmed her up. She hauled off her waterproof and pulled the blanket off the back seat to huddle round her. It smelled richly of Moby but it was warm and familiar. She only realized her hands had been shaking convulsively once the trembling stopped.

  Jonas opened the driver’s door and got in just as the thunder started in earnest. Silently Hope handed him the flask. He tipped it down his throat as if it were cough medicine and let out a long breath.

  “Well,” he said. “We did all right.”

  It was such a huge understatement that she laughed aloud at that. “Yes, we did.”

  For a moment she thought they might kiss. But then he seemed to pull an invisible jacket round him and turned towards the steering wheel. “Right. I’m driving, no argument. I know these tracks and the weather is getting worse all the time. Let’s get you home.”

  She could only feel relieved. “First we have to pick up Moby,” she reminded him.

  He nodded. “It’s on the way.”

  He put the car in motion, driving slowly along a track where the potholes were turning into pools and the track was disappearing into mud. The thunder was getting worse, too, right overhead now. Then, suddenly, there was a sizzle of lightning that made them both jump and almost blinded them. It was followed by a huge groaning sound and for a moment Hope thought that the track was going to cave in as the woodland floor had done. But when they’d gone another five or six hundred metres they saw what had caused the noise. A huge tree had fallen sideways, scattering branches all over the track. It was still reverberating.

  It completely blocked the way. Great trees rose on either side of the track, caging them in. Hope saw at once that there was no possibility of going off road here.

  Jonas stopped the engine and sat there for some minutes in silence. He looked not just drawn and tired, but utterly defeated.

  “I should never have got you into this,” he muttered.

  Hope wanted to put her arms round him. She didn’t but said, “Don’t look so worried. We’re OK. The car is upright and still functioning. I’ve no doubt Marko will look after Moby for as long as it takes. We can just stay here and sit out the storm.”

  He drummed his hands on the steering wheel. “We may have to. Though it’s not really a good idea. If only I could think ...”

  “How far away is that fire tower?”

  He shook his head. “Too far. But good thinking. Maybe ...”

  He fished the walkie-talkie out of his pocket. Marko took a while to answer, but when he did Jonas outlined their situation. The radio crackled.

  Jonas raised his voice. “Those forest ecologists had a hut somewhere round here, didn’t they? Where is it?”

  She couldn’t make out what Marko replied but it seemed to make sense to Jonas.

  “Thanks. I’ll look.”

  The rain was coming down in sheets now. The sky above the trees was as black as night. Hope had no idea what the time was but she was sure that it was early evening at the latest.

  Jonas pulled out a map of the forest from under the dash and spread it over the wheel. “Ah,” he said with satisfaction. “That might work.” He folded the map. “When the rain eases up, I’m going to look for the researchers’ field hut. It should be down this road and off to the left. If it’s accessible, I’ll come and get you.”

  “I’ll come too,” said Hope firmly.

  “No, you won’t,” he said even more firmly. “The ground could be treacherous. I’ve known these woods since I was a kid. I know the signs. You don’t.”

  “But –”

  He turned a ravaged face to her. “Please let me do this. I need to. When I sent you off down that rope –”

  “Oh, Jonas.” She couldn’t say any more. She was too choked. But it was enough.

  “Thank you,” he said simply.

  They sat in shattered silence until the torrent abated somewhat. Then he pulled the zip of his jacket up his throat, dragged the hood over his head, switched on the big torch and slid out of the vehicle.

  Hope prepared for a worrying vigil but Jonas was back inside ten minutes. She was so relieved that she could have kissed him. This time, as he closed the driver’s door behind him, she did hug him. Awkwardly, but it was a real hug. It felt strange.

  He laughed. It was pure triumph. “I’ve found us a roof over our heads.”

  He patted her arm, but his mind was already on ways and means, she could see. She drew back, hugging the blanket around her.

  He switched on the engine and put the car in gear. Just for a moment he assessed the track, then sent her a look every bit as mischievous as the teenage driver’s had been. “Buckle up. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

  She did. And it was.

  In spite of that wicked look, he drove with extreme care. He reversed slowly, then went off the track and they were weaving their way between large trees interwoven with undergrowth, so it was impossible to see the forest floor.

  A couple of times the 4X4 wallowed like a boat in high seas. It took all of Hope’s self-control not to gasp aloud. But she told herself that the only thing she could do to help was not to break his concentration. So she folded her lips together and kept quiet until they stopped outside a small cabin.

  Violent rain pattered off the trees like machine gun fire. The windscreen wipers couldn’t keep up with it. As the engine died, she heard thunder, really close, and shivered.

  Jonas pulled her discarded waterproof back round her shoulders protectively. “This is as close as I can get. Now we run.”

  They barrelled through the door and he slammed it shut behind them. Water cascaded off them as if they’d run through a waterfall. She heard the drips but the cabin was in complete darkness. She couldn’t see
her own hand in front of her face. She heard the weather outside; her own breathing. His. Suddenly she couldn’t remember how to breathe any more. She put out a hand to steady herself. And found Jonas. He was closer than she’d realized.

  Or had she known in her bones exactly how close he was?

  He hauled her into his arms and kissed her hard. His lips were cold but his kiss burned. Her body responded instantly. Her skin was icy but inside she was hot. And hungry.

  Oh yes, she’d known, all right.

  Hope kissed him back with abandon.

  Take it at her pace.

  The little voice was there in the back of his head but Jonas couldn’t help himself. His arms tightened. It didn’t feel like a first kiss. It felt as if they were already lovers, as if they’d done this a hundred times before.

  In the dark they kissed until they had to stop or suffocate.

  Hope backed off a little, not as if she were pulling away, just reaching for some air. She leaned back in his arms and gave a huge, satisfied sigh. Then, unexpectedly, she began to laugh.

  “What?” he said, instantly on his guard.

  But Hope was gleeful. He could hear it in her voice. “Togetherness is smelling of the same dog blanket.”

  Jonas groaned. “I’d forgotten the dog blanket. Did you have to remind me?” He sniffed theatrically. “Unmistakably Moby.” Then he too started to laugh.

  It was infectious. Hope started again. After that, of course, neither of them could stop. They hooted and snorted and clung to each other until their lungs hurt and their eyes streamed.

  “Oh, I ache,” she gasped eventually, arms round his neck, her head against his chest.

  At once Jonas was conscience-stricken. He stopped laughing. “Did you hurt yourself on that damn rope?”

  “No, no,” she said in reassurance.

  But she was shaking convulsively. It was faint but unmistakable. He could feel her whole body quivering as he held her.

  “Shock. I should have thought of that.” He rubbed her arms with vigour, remorseful. “Damn it, I ought to get you back to civilization, with a warm bath and a decent meal.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen any time soon, is it? We’ll just have to make the best of it.” She sounded surprisingly cheerful about it, he thought.

  He let her go reluctantly and said, “I’ll scout around and see what I can find.”

  He brought a slim pencil torch out of a back pocket and ran it over the walls. The place looked more solid than he remembered. He set off to explore and Hope came with him, which he didn’t expect, her hand tucked into his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Was it for warmth? Maybe she just didn’t want to be left alone in case of spiders and other wildlife?

  Or was this her way of telling him that her pace had accelerated? He was almost dizzy at the thought. His hand tightened painfully round hers. She laughed softly and squeezed back.

  Jonas said at random, “There’s a stack of logs. So there must be a fireplace somewhere.”

  “Good,” said Hope. “I’ve been making fires since I was a child. I’ll soon get a blaze going.”

  She did, too, once they found the chimney, an elderly brick structure cleared and cleaned, and obviously still in working order.

  The scientists had added major amenities to the old shepherd’s hut they had colonized. There was a kitchen and even a basic laboratory of sorts, though the bottled gas that powered both seemed to have run out. More important, there were bunk beds with bedding in large vacuum storage bags and a supply of wine, and ring-pull cans of nuts and crackers.

  “Carpet picnic,” said Hope gleefully, looking up from her attentions to the fire when Jonas revealed the stash.

  The floor had no carpet but, unzipped, the vacuum bags gave up four top quality sleeping bags and several felt blankets. Jonas built them a serviceable shelter against the draughts, while Hope set out their meal on the hearth. Jonas brought enough logs from the store to keep the fire in until morning.

  There were neither plates nor glasses, but they used the scientists’ solid earthenware mugs for both. And when the fire was blazing steadily, Hope took off her wet things and wrapped herself in one of the blankets, while she draped them over whatever she could find to dry.

  “You too?” she said to Jonas.

  It didn’t seem like a momentous decision. His outer things were already steaming gently. He stripped and swathed himself in an Aztec-patterned blanket, which made her laugh gently. He sat down again, stretching and leaning on his elbow, and watched her drying her hair in front of the flames.

  “You seem a practised camper. Family holidays? Girl Guide?” he enquired lazily, pouring them both more wine.

  She shook the draggled curls. “Not a chance. Not my mother’s scene at all.” She thought about it. “In fact the only really practical advice my mother ever gave me was not to go on a date without my running-away money.”

  He choked. “Really?”

  “Really. All my survival skills are things I’ve learned since I left home. Actually, that was probably the reason I had to leave home, now I come to think about it. Otherwise I’d have been completely useless.”

  “I can’t imagine that.” He reached out and captured a strand of damp hair, winding it round his finger.

  She didn’t move away. His blood started to murmur persistently.

  “Oh I was heading straight for parasite of the parish, believe me. I was rubbish at school, had no idea what I wanted to do. And my mother just thought girls found husbands and that was them settled.” She pushed her hair back, moving out of the direct heat of the fire, and stretched out companionably beside him. “My friend Ally always knew she was going to be a writer but then she was brilliant,” she said reflectively. “And my other best friend cooked like an angel. But me, no. I was useless at everything.”

  Her blanket was slipping off her shoulder as she curled into his nest of accumulated sleeping bags. Did she know?

  “And now?” he said, distracted.

  “I seem to be quite good at sorting out problems. Even crises. A boss once told me I hit the ground running. I can drive just about anything. Pick up languages.”

  “I remember. The first time we met. You had a really good go at the San Michele dialect.”

  “Fluent up to bottom of page 6 of the phrase book.” She held out her mug for more wine. “I like this stuff.”

  “San Michele’s finest.”

  “Really?”

  He turned the bottle round and looked at it. “Well, no. Good supermarket middle rank, though.”

  She raised her mug in a solemn toast. “Here’s to the scientists, God bless them. How many bottles did they leave by the way?”

  He was amused. “Are you saying you want me to open another?”

  “Eventually,” said Hope composedly.

  And kissed him.

  Hope, he found, was an interested but not very expert lover. She seemed astonished by his desire to please her. She arched under his slow, appreciative touch, eyes tight shut, and muttered, “What are you doing?”

  “This is what I call the full-body kiss,” said Jonas, enjoying himself hugely.

  She moaned. “Don’t tease.”

  “Then don’t rush.”

  Her eyes opened indignantly at that but then she stopped, head pressed against his chest, listening. “I know your heartbeat,” she said awed. “I’d know it anywhere.”

  He couldn’t speak. To be fair, he didn’t exactly lose control. But after that he didn’t waste time telling Hope not to rush any more.

  They never got to the neat bunks. They stayed in front of the firelight and made love and hugged and laughed and made love some more.

  And when she fell asleep in his arms, he looked down at the corkscrew curls, most of which he had played with, and felt he had been given the world.

  The next morning Jonas woke first. Hope was lying on her front, one arm possessively across his chest. He lay there looking at the smoke-staine
d ceiling, idly stroking her hand. She muttered something but didn’t wake. He grinned and dropped a light kiss on her shoulder. It was cold.

  This was where a chivalrous knight would get out of bed and attend to the fire, so his lady didn’t have to shiver when she woke. Oh well, he might as well get on with it, then. He raised her hand and carefully tucked it under the tangle of blankets and sleeping bags.

  The embers were still glowing, so he brought them back to life with some twigs from the log basket. When he was sure they had caught, he carefully added just one small log and watched it while he pulled last night’s clothes on. They were cold and stiff. So when he was sure the first log had caught, he collected Hope’s underwear, shirt and trousers, and arranged them in front of the fire.

  He looked at his watch. Later than he’d thought. There would be someone at the Rangers’ Centre by now. He put another, bigger log on the fire; then took the walkie-talkie outside so as not to disturb Hope, and tried to raise them. It took a few minutes while he prowled round the hut, discovering a stream, running fast after last night’s storm, and more fallen branches. Eventually Marko answered.

  “Jonas? How you doing?”

  “Broke into the scientists’ hut successfully, thank you. Hope’s asleep.”

  “Not surprised. She did well yesterday.”

  “She did, didn’t she?” Jonas realized he felt proud of her. He wondered how she would feel about that. Probably annoyed, he thought, laughing gently at both of them.

  Marko said, “What do the trails look like? I’ll put it on the whiteboard.”

  Jonas ran through what he could see and what he remembered from last night’s journey. “I reckon we’ve been lucky.”

  “Too right.”

  “Now that I can actually see out of the windscreen, I should be able to get us back to the Centre. No idea what time, though.”

  Marko laughed. “Let the lass sleep. She’ll be exhausted.”

  Jonas narrowed his eyes at the instrument suspiciously. Then he realized that Marko was talking about Hope’s heroic rope trick of the day before. He laughed silently, this time just at himself. But it had reminded him.