Afterthought, M J Marlow [bts books to read .TXT] 📗

there, didn’t you?” Petrie nodded and she smiled at him gently. His stiffness softened then as he saw she was not judging him. Evangeline turned back to her father. “Might I attend, Father?” Evangeline asked Stefano, her eyes glowing with joy. “Having our name associated with such a worthy cause cannot be wrong, surely.” “We shall look into the matter when we return to the estate,” Stefano nodded. He caught Emilio’s shocked look and understood the reason for it. He was not one for involving himself personally in such matters. This child of his was changing everything. Suddenly he wanted to be out among people where he could watch her affecting lives and bringing smiles to small children. He looked down as something tugged on his sleeve. There was a young boy of about ten standing at his side looking very nervous. “Yes, young man?” “Are you a real prince, sir?” he stammered. “Mama says you are, but I wasn’t certain.” “What made you uncertain?” Stefano asked kindly. “In our stories,” the boy said, growing braver as he saw that he was being taken seriously; “princesses’ fathers are always kings.” “In real life,” Stefano assured the boy; “princess’ fathers can be princes. Your mother is right.” He saw the blushing woman and his smile was warm enough to make her nearly swoon. “You have a very intelligent son, Madame. You should be very proud of him.” He looked at the boy seriously. “You should remember that your Mama will be right most of the time, young man. But don’t let that keep you from asking questions.” “Come along, Frederick,” the woman blushed and pulled her son back; “the prince and princess need to eat their lunch; as we do.” She shot Stefano a grateful look and ushered her boy back to their table. Stefano looked over to see his daughter beaming at him. The happiness on her face at witnessing an event he would have just as cheerfully avoided before she had come into his life made his heart swell with joy. This girl of his was a witch! But he was not complaining. The changes her mere presence was affecting in him and the rest of his household were nothing short of miraculous. She actually convinced him to take a stroll with her and they talked about the orphanage and how they might help. The serious conversation could wait until they were back at the estate. They came across a street vendor who was selling carnations and Evangeline bought them all. She pinned one to the lapels of the jackets of the men with her and then moved along handing them out to people who had sour looks on their faces. “Is your daughter for real, sir?” the woman asked him. “I’ve only seen people that happy in fairy stories.” “She’s had a hard life,” Stefano replied. “If it makes her happy to see people smile I am not going to stop her.” He moved off and Emilio looked at the man he had known for the past forty years in shock. This was not the Stefano he had begun to get used to. This was the Stefano of twenty years ago when he was young and in love with life. He caught a dark-eyed man watching the girl and her father and noted his interest. When the camera came out, Emilio was on the move. He took the camera away from the man and looked at him sternly. “Prince Roza does not appreciate ambush photography,” Emilio told the man. “I am certain if you ask politely he may actually allow you to photograph him and his daughter.” The man looked at him in disbelief. “Shall we ask?” The man nodded dumbly and found himself being escorted up to the man most of the news media had dubbed ‘the Hermit Prince’. This smiling person could not possibly be that man. “Your Highness? This gentleman of the press would like your permission to photograph you and the princess.” “If he promises to behave,” Stefano replied, “he is free to take all the photographs he wishes. We will not have our daughter disturbed by nasty rumors and outright lies. Is that clear?” Evangeline smiled as the man nodded and put a carnation in his buttonhole. Then she moved down the road spending time at each of the vendors’ stalls and having sincere conversations with the people on the street who were brave enough to approach her. She was determined not to be afraid of anything. The sun was shining, the scent of flowers filled the air, and there was no reason to let this afternoon’s nightmares color the rest of the day. She heard music and they found a musical being staged. Evangeline found a place to sit and her father stood near her as she enjoyed the performance of the amateur theatrical company. “Monsieur Marcel?” “Yes, Your Highness?” the photographer asked as he took another shot of the beautiful child as she went up to congratulate the actors and actresses at the end of the show. “Are you employed by a specific paper,” Evangeline asked him as the company insisted she let them photograph her among them; “or are you freelance?” She saw his question. “I am merely asking because I am going to be in need of a Public Relations person and you impress me as a man who could fill that role quite nicely.” “She’s doing it again, my lord,” Emilio whispered to Stefano. Marcel was stunned. His answer remained unspoken as the girl turned to one of the actresses to compliment her on her singing. The costumes, the staging, and the pacing were all complimented and the director and other department heads came forward to thank her for her kind words to their ‘poor company’. Evangeline fairly glowed with happiness as the people went out of their way to be kind to her. She finally managed to extricate herself from the company and turned to ask Marcel her question again. “Daughter,” Stefano said as he laid his hand on her arm. Evangeline looked up at him and he saw the determination there. She knew what she was doing, he realized. “Monsieur Marcel may not wish to be the Public Relations Officer for the Roza household.” “You are right, of course, Father,” Evangeline nodded. “It is wrong of me to expect him to do as I ask, simply because it is what I want. That is quite unacceptable behavior.” She turned to the man expectantly and saw him blush. “Please think it over, Monsieur Marcel, and let us know?” She saw a woman standing of in the distance smiling at her and a chill went up her spine. It was not possible for her to be here! She was dead. She looked back at her father to see if he had seen the woman and he looked at her puzzled. “This has been quite pleasant, Father,” she said softly, relegating the sighting to exhaustion; “but I am growing tired. I think we should return home now.” “Petrie will retrieve the car,” Stefano nodded to the man. “We shall remain here with Emilio until he arrives.” He saw a sidewalk café and herded her towards it. He could see she was tired. “We shall have some refreshment while we wait,” he said as the restaurant manager came outside to clear a table for them personally, “and talk with Monsieur Marcel about the position we are offering him.” Monsieur Marcel was certain he was dreaming. He had only been looking for a few photographs of Paris’ most elusive noble and he was being offered the job of his dreams. This princess could not be for real, he thought; but her father, the Hermit Prince himself, was confirming her decision. He would be insane not to accept what they were offering to him. “We are not insane, Monsieur Marcel,” Evangeline smiled at him warmly as she guessed his thoughts. “A city I have only ever dreamed of visiting is now my home. I am desperate to have an adviser in the ways I may avoid making any mistakes that will reflect poorly on my family and I have a feeling that you would be the perfect man for this task.” He could almost see tears in her eyes and he was lost. He nodded his acceptance. “Oh Monsieur Marcel. Thank you so very much.” “You can begin immediately?” Stefano asked the stunned man. “Your pay, of course, began as of the first of this month. We are thinking 10,000 francs a month during the 90-day trial period?” He saw the man choke. “If that is not enough, we can renegotiate the amounts. I have not had a PR Officer for many years; I may be insulting you with this offer.” “I assure you, Your Highness,” Marcel gasped out; “you are more than generous and I will work my fingers to the bone to earn every franc.” He had a thought. “May I build a team to assist with this task?” “We leave the specifics up to you, Monsieur,” Evangeline said as her father hesitated. “We reserve the right to do a background search on any person you propose to include in your team for security reasons.” “But of course, Your Highness,” Marcel nodded, amazed that a mere child had such a grasp of things she claimed to be ignorant of. “That goes without saying. Persons of your rank cannot be too careful. I expect you to run my background as well, in case there is anything about me you find unacceptable.” “It is time for us to leave, Monsieur Marcel,” Stefano nodded as he saw Petrie pulling up. “We expect to see you at the estate in two hours for dinner. Bring your family with you, if you have one.” He helped Evangeline to her feet. “Come along, child. We should get back.” Evangeline nodded and smiled once more at the man she’d chosen. She could see the eagerness in him to do a good job and that was what mattered. He would kill himself to make himself acceptable to them. She wondered if he realized that she would never ask that much from him. She got in the back with her father and leaned against him. Stefano put his arm around her and let her sleep. They arrived back at the estate a half hour before dinner and he carried his still sleeping daughter up to her room. She stirred as she set her down. “Dinner in thirty minutes, child,” Stefano said as he kissed her on the forehead. “Have I told you how very proud you make me, Evangeline?” Evangeline was driving the convertible when she and her companions and two of the guards went to the Orphanage with Marcel two days later. Marcel had called them and the nun had told him they would be delighted to meet with the Princess. She pulled up to the curb carefully and looked at Marcel, who was looking very amazed and relieved. He had not expected her to be able to drive that competently, she guessed. He got out and the guard was already opening her door for her. He frowned as Evangeline suddenly went white and turned to see what she could have seen that had upset her. There was a woman walking away. “You’re ready to take your license test now,” he told her as he attempted to draw her attention back. “Sister Constantia said that the children are out in the gardens waiting for us.” He held his arm out to her and she allowed him to escort her inside. She had worn a blue velvet pillbox hat with a satin band that matched the blue dress her father had admired. Yvaine had put her hair into a chignon to make her look more adult, as well. The children, the nuns had informed them, had never seen a princess before. Evangeline smiled at the nun who opened the