This was crazy, he decided. What on earth was he doing here, playing the wounded lover at the funeral of his fiancée?

But he knew his duty. Raoul, Prince Regent of Alp’Azuri for at least another six days, stood at rigid attention while his fiancée was committed for burial, but all he felt was distaste.

‘She had what she wanted,’ he told his uncle, and there was no way he could disguise his anger. ‘She was drunk, Lionel, and it was only because the woman she hit was an incredibly careful driver that she didn’t manage to take someone else with her.’

‘But why?’ Lionel was clearly at a loss.

‘She had her girlfriends here for a pre-bridal lunch. Then she decided to drive down to Vesey to meet her lover. Her lover! Six days before the wedding, with every camera in the country trained on her. Do you know what her blood alcohol content was?’

‘Raoul, look distraught,’ his uncle hissed. ‘The cameras are on you.’

‘I’m suffering in stoic agony,’ Raoul said grimly. ‘All the papers say so. Just as well she crashed before she met her latest interest.’

‘Hell, Raoul…’

‘You want me to be sympathetic?’ Raoul demanded. ‘Oh, you know I didn’t want her dead but I never wanted to marry her. She might have been a distant cousin but I hardly knew her. This was your idea. Of all the stupid…’

‘I thought she’d be OK,’ Lionel said, and if the cameras were on his face now they would certainly see distress. ‘Sarah was brought up to royalty. She knew what was expected of her. She could handle the media.’

‘So well that she managed to disguise the fact that she had a lover she intended keeping. How long would the marriage have lasted before the media found out?’

Lionel hesitated. ‘I suspect that Sarah didn’t think you’d care.’

‘You know I wouldn’t. But the media is a different matter.’

‘They understood. It was a marriage of convenience. Such things have been happening in royal families forever, and every person in this country wants you to marry.’ Lionel grimaced. ‘Except your cousin, Marcel. Why you’ve held out for so long before marrying… Hell, Raoul, it puts us in an appalling position.’