Читать книгу Royal Babies - Cat Schield - Страница 20

CHAPTER TEN

‘ALL RIGHT. YOU WIN. I’ll marry you.’

The words seemed to haunt his dreams, and by the time the distinctive fluting whistle of a golden oriole penetrated his uneasy repose it was a relief to wake up, hop out of the slatted wooden bed and head for the shower. He could only hope the stream of water would wake him up to common sense.

He had won, and there was nothing wrong with winning—it meant he would have a life with his son, would be able to give Amil his principality. That was good news, right?

The problem was Sunita’s words had not been the only ones to permeate his sleeping mind. His father’s voice had also made a showing.

‘Every woman has a price. Find her weakness, exploit it and then you win, Freddy, m’boy.’

He switched off the shower in a savage movement. Time to man up. Yes, he’d won—and that was OK. It was a cause to celebrate—not the equivalent of what his father had done. He was striving to keep Amil with Sunita full-time. He hadn’t destroyed a family—he’d created one. Ergo, he was not his father. It wasn’t as if he had threatened her with joint custody. It had been the only other option—an option he’d known she would knock back.

Rationally, the facts were undeniable. Sometimes in life you had to choose between the rock and the hard place, and he’d done his best to make the rock a comfortable choice for her. He’d offered her the chance to be a princess—most women would have grabbed the baton and run with it.

End of.

Now it was time to figure out the next step.

He pulled on chinos and a navy T-shirt and headed into the courtyard and the early-morning sunshine.

‘Over here.’

He heard Sunita’s voice and spotted her sitting under the shade of a tree, simply dressed in a rainbow-striped sundress, sunglasses perched atop her raven hair. Sunlight filtered through the green leaves of the banyan tree, dappling her arms and the wood of the table, lighting up the tentative smile she offered as he approached.

It was a smile that seemed to bathe his skin in the warmth of relief, pushing away any lingering doubts about his actions.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey...’ He sat down opposite and surveyed the array of fruit. ‘Wow.’

‘I know, right? It’s hard to know where to begin!’

‘I’m not even sure I can name them all.’

‘Chiku, papaya, guava, pineapple, rambutan. They all taste different and they are all delicious.’

He reached for a chiku—a fruit he’d never heard of. ‘It looks like a potato.’

‘Wait until you taste it.’

He halved the fruit to reveal pinkish flesh seeded with a mere three black seeds. He scooped out a spoonful and blinked at the intense sweetness.

‘Better than cotton candy.’

She smiled, and once again relief touched him.

‘About last night...’ he said. ‘I know marriage isn’t your ideal option, but I am very glad you said yes.’

‘It isn’t, but it is the best option on the table and I’ve decided to make the best of it. Perhaps if I’d been more upfront two years ago we wouldn’t be in this mess. But we are, and I’ll do my best to be positive about the marriage idea.’

‘Our marriage doesn’t have to be a mess. I think we can make this work. For Amil and for us.’

A pause, and then she nodded. ‘I’ll try. So, what’s the next step in Project Marriage?’

There was no room for further doubts or any more discussion with his conscience. Project Marriage was what he wanted and what he believed to be right for them all. Yet for some reason he felt restless, as if the beauty of the surroundings was somehow tainted. This was the sort of place where real couples should sit and plan their future—couples foolish enough to believe in the concept of love.

‘We need a plan, but I suggest we move this discussion to somewhere else. Is there anything you want to see in Goa? We could hit the beach...visit the old quarter...’

In truth he didn’t care—he needed to move, to get on with the business of the day away from this tranquil fairy tale setting that seemed to accuse him of having behaved like his father, however much logic told him he hadn’t.

Sunita thought for a moment, her tawny eyes dreamy, as if the question needed deeper consideration than it appeared to warrant.

‘I’d like to go to the Dudhsagar Falls.’

There was a nuance in her voice he couldn’t identify. ‘Any reason?’

For a second she hesitated, then she shrugged. ‘My parents came to Goa together and they visited the falls. It’s one of the few memories my mother ever shared about them both—she said it was important sometimes to remember the happy memories or they would all crumble to dust.’

She picked up a rambutan, rolled the lychee-like fruit almost like a dice.

‘I’m not entirely sure what she meant, but I’d like to go somewhere she was happy. Even if that happiness was no more than a mirage.’

He had the feeling that right now Sunita missed her mother—and who could blame her? She was about to step into a whole new world that she didn’t want to enter.

‘I’m sorry you lost her, Sunita.’

‘Me too. But I do feel lucky I had her for the time I did.’ She hesitated. ‘I don’t know the details, but I’m guessing you didn’t have much time with your mum.’

‘No.’

Even before the divorce his mother had spent minimal time with him—at least until the divorce proceedings were underway. Then it had all changed, and even now he could remember the glorious happiness his three-year-old self had felt—not the detail, but the joy that finally his mother wanted his company, would hug him, take him out... And then abruptly it had all ceased. She’d gone before the ink had even dried on the papers. The whole ‘loving mother’ act had been exactly that—an act undertaken to up her settlement.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No need. You can’t miss what you’ve never had.’

The words came out rougher than he’d intended, but he didn’t want her compassion. He’d got over his mother’s abandonment long ago, buried those emotions along with the rest.

Pulling out his phone, he did a check on the falls, scanned the information. ‘The falls it is—I’ll speak to Security, see how close they can get us. Looks like the official road is closed off because of monsoon season, but I’m sure we can get something sorted.’

‘Actually, I wondered if we could do what my parents did and walk along the railway track to get there. Just us—no security. I know they’re discreet, but today I’d like to be just Frederick and Sunita—before we get caught up in the reality of being a royal couple.’

The wistfulness in her voice decided him—alongside the fact that, however much he trusted his staff, it made sense to thrash out the details of this marriage in private. Plus if he was being honest with himself, he too wanted to be ‘just Frederick and Sunita’ for one day. To put aside the burden of ruling and his complex need for this marriage for one day.

‘Sounds like a plan.’

Surprise etched her face. ‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure. Tell me the route they took and I’ll figure it out.’

She grinned. ‘I think they came back on a goods train.’

‘We can manage that.’

‘The Prince and his future consort hopping on a goods train? I like it.’

Her smile broadened and it caught at his heart, causing a sudden unfamiliar tug of hope that perhaps this might all work out.

* * *

Sunita glanced up at the sky, and for the first time in the past forty-eight hours her thoughts slowed down as she absorbed the grandeur of the bright grey monsoon clouds.

Most tourists flocked to India in the summer months, but she loved monsoon—always had, even as a child. Loved the drum of the rain, which brought the country much needed water and succour from heat, and lavished verdant green to the trees and fields.

‘It doesn’t seem possible that there can be so many different shades of green—it makes me wish I could paint, somehow capture all this.’ Her outswept arm encapsulated the winding track, the surrounding green and the skies above. ‘Photos never seem to catch the reality of it—they look fake, somehow.’

‘Then commit it to memory,’ Frederick said, putting out a hand to steady her as she stumbled slightly over an awkward rock.

The touch of his hand against hers almost made her gasp out loud, adding an extra level to her already overcrowded senses. In an almost involuntary movement she clasped her fingers around his.

‘Like my mother did. She described this walk to me so many times it almost felt like a story.’

Perhaps a real-life fairy tale, in which a moment of happiness had not led to a lifetime of happily-ever-after.

‘It’s odd to think that they walked here once...maybe took the exact same steps we’re taking now.’ She turned to him. ‘You must feel that a lot as a ruler—the idea of history being always around you. Your ancestors’ spirits looking over your shoulders.’

For an instant she’d swear a small shiver shot through him, and understanding smote her. Perhaps for him it was the spirit of his older brother that haunted his every move and decision.

Yet his voice was light as he answered, ‘I am more worried about current judgement and the opinion of posterity than the line of my progenitors.’

He slowed as they approached a tunnel, half turning for evidence of any oncoming train.

They stepped inside the dark and now it was her turn to shiver at the dank confines. Water trickled down the damp mossy walls and he tightened his grip on her hand. Without thought she moved closer to the strength of his body.

‘It’s safe. Even if a train does come through there is ample space as long as we keep to the side.’

Yet suddenly it didn’t feel safe—though it was no longer the train she was worried about. Frederick was too close, and that proximity was playing havoc with her body.

Did it matter any more? They were to be married—their physical attraction could now be acknowledged. The idea jolted a funny little thrill through her—one she short-circuited instantly. Two years ago physical attraction had lambasted her self-control and her pride. No way would she enter that thrall again.

As they emerged into sunlight she dropped his hand, under the pretext of tugging her hair into a ponytail, and then turned to him.

‘I think we were talking about current judgement and public opinion—and on that topic we need to decide how to announce our engagement.’

For an instant his gaze locked on her hand and then he nodded. ‘I think we keep it low-key. I don’t want to announce this as a romantic fairy tale—that would be disingenuous, and way too reminiscent of my father’s marriages. Every engagement, every wedding was an extravaganza, with proclamations of eternal love.’

‘Did he love any of them?’

‘According to his own criteria he did—but in reality I believe it was little more than lust and an ability to kid himself.’

‘Perhaps he did it for children?’

‘My father never did anything unless it was for himself.’ His tone was factual, rather than bitter. ‘But that isn’t the point. I don’t want to lie and present our marriage as some sort of perfect love story. I’d rather be honest.’

Sunita stared at him. ‘That is hardly the most gripping headline—Prince Proposes to Legitimise Heir.’ Irrational hurt threatened at his reminder that this was the only reason for their union. Well, so be it. ‘I don’t believe in fairy tales, but I do believe in good publicity.’

‘So what would you suggest?’

‘An old flame is rekindled. Prince Frederick of Lycander and Sunita decide to wed! Both the Prince and his bride profess delight at the prospect of being a real family.’ Her pace increased slightly. ‘I mean, that is just off the top of my head—I’m sure your spin people can work on it. We don’t have to profess undying love, but anything is better than indifference.’

Admiration glinted in his eyes and warmed her.

‘I’d forgotten what a natural you are with publicity. You’ve definitely not lost your touch.’

‘Thank you kindly, good sir. Publicity is an incredibly powerful tool. I agree that we shouldn’t lie to your people, but what you are doing is a good, principled action for your son—the people should know that. Of course they’ll be interested in a bit of fun and glitz and a celebration too.’ She glanced sideways at him. ‘Fun is important—for all of us. I want Amil’s childhood to be full of fun and joy—I want him to have a happy path through life.’

‘So do I.’

‘Good. Then let’s show your people that. Let’s make sure the engagement announcement is honest, but happy. We’ve decided to do this, so we need to make the best of it.’

With impeccable dramatic timing the skies chose that moment to open up, and before Sunita could do more than let out a warning cry the rain sheeted down in a torrential downpour.

Sunita tipped her face up and let it gush over her, revelling in the sheer force of Nature as it provided one of life’s essentials.

Mere moments later the rain ceased. Blue skies replaced the grey, and sudden shafts of bright golden sunshine shot down, illuminating the droplets of water that hung everywhere. The smell of wet earth permeated the air and it seemed impossible not to smile.

‘It’s as if someone switched the tap off and the lights on,’ Frederick said, a note of wonder in his voice as he looked round.

‘That would be Varuna, the god of water. Nanni says that he listens to what the frogs say, and when they croak enough he gives us rain.’

‘I think I’m going to like Nanni.’

‘Of course you are.’

‘So I take it your mother’s family eventually relented and took her and you back in?’

‘No...’ Sunita sighed, feeling the familiar ache of regret and sadness. ‘I wish that was how it had played out, but it didn’t. They didn’t relent.’

Even when they knew her mother was dying.

Anger was suddenly added to the mix. Her grandfather hadn’t even told Nanni that their daughter was ill—hadn’t given her the chance to say goodbye.

‘I met Nanni for the first time when I was pregnant with Amil.’ She glanced across at him. ‘I don’t expect your sympathy, but when I found I was pregnant I felt very alone.’

His expression hardened slightly, but to her surprise she could see an element of frustrated sympathy in his creased brow. ‘So you decided to find your mother’s relatives?’

‘Yes. My mother had left enough information that it wasn’t too hard. It turned out my grandfather had died two years before, and Nanni agreed to see me.’

That first meeting was one she would never forget—her grandmother had simply stared at her, tears seeping from her brown eyes, her hands clasped as if in prayer. And then she had stepped forward and hugged Sunita, before standing back and touching her face as if in wonder, no doubt seeing not just her granddaughter but her daughter as well.

‘She was overjoyed and so was I. She has never forgiven herself for not standing up to my grandfather, for letting my mother go, and I think she sees me and Amil as her second chance.’

‘It isn’t always easy to stand up to a partner if he or she has all the power. Your Nanni shouldn’t be too hard on herself.’

‘I’ve told her that. My mother didn’t blame her either. Nanni was totally dependent on her husband—money, clothes, food, everything—and he made sure she knew it. If she had left with my mother he would have cut her off from the rest of her family, her children...everyone.’ She paused and then turned to him, willing him to understand. ‘I won’t ever let myself get into that position.’

‘You won’t. Our marriage will be nothing like that.’

‘I understand that, but I did mean what I said yesterday—I intend to resume my career. You saw what happened to your mother, your stepmothers. I’ve seen what happened to Nanni—I will not be dependent on you.’

‘You won’t be. We can set up a pre-nup.’

‘In a principality where your word is law? Any pre-nup I sign wouldn’t be worth the paper it was written on.’

‘OK. You will be paid a salary that goes directly into your personal account—you can move that into another account anywhere in the world.’

‘A salary essentially paid by you—one you could stop at any moment?’

His lips thinned. ‘You really do not trust me at all, do you?’

There was a hint of hurt in his voice, but it was something she could not afford to listen to.

‘I can’t trust anyone. Think about it, Frederick. What if I decided to take Amil and leave? Would you still pay my salary? What if you turn out to be like your father? What if you fall in love with another woman?’ Life had taught her there could never be too many ‘what ifs’ in the mix. ‘Then I’ll need money of my own.’

The easy warmth in his hazel eyes vanished, and now his brow was as clouded as a monsoon sky. ‘None of those things will happen.’

‘That’s what you say now, but times change—we both know that.’

A shadow flickered across his face and she knew her point had gone home.

‘So I must make sure myself that I have enough money in the bank for whatever life throws at me.’

To ensure there was always an escape route—that she would never be trapped like her grandmother had been, as she had been as a child.

‘That is non-negotiable.’

‘Understood.’

‘Also, I want to leave Amil with my grandmother when we go back to Lycander.’

‘Why?’ The syllable was taut. ‘Because you think I will snatch him the minute we land on Lycander soil?’

‘No. But I won’t risk taking him there until we have worked out how our marriage will be received. Also, I can get things ready for him; it will be a big change for him and I’d like to make his transition as easy as possible.’

The idea of not having Amil with her hurt, but she could not—would not—risk taking him to Lycander until she was sure of his reception there.

‘I’ll come back to Lycander with you, and then I’ll get Amil.’

‘OK. But we will get Amil.’

She nodded and then there was a silence, broken by a roar in the not so far distance.

‘Dhudsagar Falls,’ Sunita said. ‘We’re close.’

By tacit consent they quickened their pace.