A Royal Love Match by Barbara Cartland

Author:Barbara Cartland
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-908411-94-5
Publisher: Barbara Cartland.com

CHAPTER FIVE

Alissia was in her element.

She had seen Clive again last night, when there had been an orchestral concert at the Palace.

She thought how incredibly handsome he was and how different in some ways from the young man who had hidden in Nanny’s bed.

Nanny was delighted as well because he had called during the afternoon when she had been the only one in their Apartment.

Alissia had gone out in a barge with her father and the Countess had taken Nancy to attend some gathering in the Royal Palace.

According to Nanny’s view, and Nanny was always right as she knew, Clive was even finer and better-looking than the King himself.

She was flushed and excited with all the kind things he had said to her and he had given her a present, which she mentioned only to Alissia.

In a way Alissia was glad she had not been there to spoil the reunion of Nanny and the young man whose life she had saved.

At the same time she wanted to see Clive herself.

It had been impossible to talk to him at the concert because he was sitting by the King and anyway she and her father were quite some way from them.

However, he had come up to them when everyone was leaving and made some flattering remarks to her father before he turned to Alissia.

Clive had thought to himself she was looking even more beautiful in her evening dress than she had been in her day gown.

Later when Clive and His Majesty went upstairs to his private sitting room, the King remarked,

“I have to decide whose bedroom I go to tonight – ”

Clive knew he was speaking of his wife, the Queen, and Barbara Castlemaine.

The King made a wide gesture with his hands as he added,

“Whoever I may choose, it will result in pouts and recriminations by the one who is neglected!”

Clive had laughed because he could not help it.

“I am seriously sorry for you, Sire, but it is a puzzle no one can solve except yourself!”

“And I am quite incapable of solving it, Clive,” the King chuchled.

When Clive said goodnight and went back to his own Apartment, he was thinking that he did not envy the King.

He himself was glad that he was not married.

He had been hounded, begged and implored by his family to take a wife and thus make sure of an heir to the Marquisate.

If he did not have a son the title would go to some obscure cousin in Surrey, who was getting on in years and, failing him, the title would die out.

“You must be sensible, Clive,” one of his relations had said, “and realise it is your responsibility to carry on the title which after all is a very ancient one.”

“I am aware of that,” he had replied. “But naturally I do not wish to marry until I am in love.”

The relative had then looked at him in surprise as if it was the last thing he had expected him to say.

“But surely, Clive, you must

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