Page 26 of Falling for the Widowed Prince

The door to the dressing room closed behind him as he left, but as he crossed the room, he froze.

In all of the things they'd discussed prior to reaching this point, they'd missed one very big one.

What the sleeping arrangements would be.

9

Once they put the children to bed - just as they had several other times in the last couple of weeks - Madeleine couldn't figure out where Anthony had gone. He'd disappeared.

She carefully looked around the apartment, knocking on, then opening doors and finding all kinds of different rooms.

Like several extra bedrooms besides the one she'd been in earlier.

They hadn't talked about it, but she had every intention of living in one of the other rooms. He was still deeply mourning his wife. This wasn't a real marriage no matter what the duke on the Council tried to force them to commit to. Maybe one day it could grow into something more, but she wasn't going to do anything that would make him uncomfortable. If he ever decided he was ready to start a real relationship, they would figure it all out then.

She was fairly certain she'd searched the entire apartment and still hadn't found him. With a sigh, she went to the dressing room she'd been given. It didn't really make any sense. The late queen's things had all been cleaned out, but Madeleine wouldn't be able to fill it up in her lifetime, even if she tried her hardest.

Despite marrying the man who would be regent for the next decade and a half, she did not anticipate needing many clothes for public appearances. She'd be working in her archive, reading the new book carefully over and over to glean all of the information she could from it then prepare reports to disseminate to the professional associations and the public as a whole. She would stay in the background taking care of the other children and things like dinner and homework.

Once changed into her pajamas and having finished her bedtime routine, Madeleine left the Monarch's Suite and made her way down the hall to the other room. Arriving there, she pulled the covers back and snuggled under them. It was the most comfortable mattress she'd ever slept on. The warmth of the blankets enveloped her and, exhausted from everything that happened in the last few weeks, she quickly fell asleep in the cocoon it created.

Madeleine woke the next morning fairly certain she hadn't moved at all in the night. She was pretty sure Anthony had told her the nannies typically took care of the morning routines, so she didn't think she had that to worry about.

A glance at her watch told her it was early enough the nannies shouldn't be in the apartment yet. Moving quickly, she made the bed back the way it was - a task made easier by her deep sleep.

Back in the Monarch's Suite, she still didn't see Anthony. The bed either hadn't been slept in or he did a better job than she did at remaking it. Quickly dressing in her normal work clothes, she started for the kitchen.

"Madeleine?" Anthony's sleepy voice called her back.

When she turned, she saw him standing up from a recliner in the sitting area of the suite. He let a blanket of some kind fall onto it. He wore what looked to be comfortable pajama pants and a t-shirt likely worn soft by years of washings.

"Good morning." She kept her voice soft as he clearly wasn't yet awake.

He looked from her to the bed and back again. "Where did you sleep?"

"One of the other rooms. We hadn't talked about it, and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the heels of his hands, Anthony yawned. "We'll talk today. I've cleared my calendar as much as I can through Christmas. There are a number of events we'll attend between now and the holiday itself. The children will go to a couple of them, but until Catherine is a bit older, she won't attend very many. Today is the meeting in Parliament to officially make me the permanent regent. It's at ten, so we'll need to be in the car by quarter till."

His words confused her. "We?"

As he spoke he'd walked across the room toward her, stopping just a few feet a way. "Yeah. You're expected to be there. At least I was told you would be there."

Madeleine looked down at her slacks and silky blouse. "What do I wear to something like that? I had plans at work today. Nothing that can't wait, but advance notice of stuff like this would be great."

His brows knit in confusion. "Work?"

She felt both of her eyebrows shoot up. "Royal Historian, remember? That's how we met and how we knew all of this was a thing that needed to happen."

"You're planning to keep working?" His confusion mounted.

"Why wouldn't I?"

He shook his head, presumably to clear the cobwebs. "You're probably not going to be able keep working. I know you're not technically a royal, but for lack of a better term, you'll be a working royal."

"Yes. I'll be working as Royal Historian," she countered. "I can attend events if I need to, but I don't plan on being a substitute queen consort or whatever the correct term for my role might be."

With another yawn, he shook his head. "We'll talk about it more later, but for now, I need to get a shower and get ready for another meeting before we leave for Parliament. I'll send a message to Caroline's stylist to see if she can help make sure you're wearing something appropriate." He took a good look at her. "I think you'd be fine in what you're wearing, but I've not paid enough attention to women's clothes to be certain."

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