Читать книгу The Wedding Party And Holiday Escapes Ultimate Collection - Кейт Хьюит, Aimee Carson - Страница 77

CHAPTER TWELVE

SANDRO WAS HERE. Leo blinked, still finding it hard to believe his brother was here, just a room away. He’d come home. After fifteen years away—a decade and a half of complete silence—he’d returned, the prodigal son. Leo could not untangle the knot of emotions that had lodged inside him, rose in his throat. Fear, anger, confusion, disbelief...and, yes, love and joy.

Too much.

He was tired of feeling so damn much. After years of schooling himself not to feel anything, not to care or want or allow himself to be hurt, it was all coming out—just like it had during that interview.

I’ve fallen in love with my wife.

What on earth had made him say such a thing? Made him confess it—if it were even true? The words had spilled out of him, needing to be said, burning within him. Now he fought against such an admission, attempting, quite desperately, to claw back some self-protection. Some armour.

And now Sandro.

‘Leo...’ Alyse hurried after him. ‘Why is Sandro here?’

He turned to stare at her. ‘You know about Sandro?’

‘Your mother told me a few days ago.’

He shook his head, unable to untangle his emotions enough to know how he felt about Alyse knowing and not saying a word. This was intimacy? Honesty?

‘Let’s not talk about this here,’ he said. ‘My father is expecting me.’ She followed him to his father’s study but he barred her at the door. ‘This meeting is private, Alyse. I’ll talk to you after.’ He knew he sounded cold and remote, but he couldn’t help it. That was who he was. Everything else had been an aberration. A mistake.

A mistake he would miss.

‘I’ll see you later.’

She bit her lip, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty, but then she slowly nodded. ‘Okay,’ she whispered, and slowly walked down the hall.

Leo knocked once and then opened the door to his father’s most sacred room, his private study, and stared directly into the face of his older brother.

Alessandro. Sandro. The only person he’d ever felt was a true friend, who understood him, accepted him. Loved him. He looked the same, and yet of course so much older. His unruly dark hair had a few silver threads, the strands catching the light and matching the grey glint of his eyes. He was taller and leaner than Leo, possessing a sinewy, charismatic grace, just as he had at twenty-one when Leo had last seen him.

Don’t go, Sandro. Don’t leave me alone. Please.

He’d begged and Sandro had gone.

‘Leo.’ Sandro nodded once, his expression veiled, and Leo nodded back. Quite the emotional reunion, then.

‘I’ve summoned Alessandro back to Maldinia,’ King Alessandro said with the air of someone who trusted his innate authority.

‘So I see.’ Leo cleared his throat. ‘It’s been a long time, Sandro.’

‘Fifteen years,’ his brother agreed. His silver gaze swept over him, telling him nothing. ‘You look well.’

‘As do you.’ And then they lapsed into silence, these brothers who had once, despite the six years’ difference in their ages, been nearly inseparable—compatriots as children, banding together as they had determinedly tried to ignore their parents’ vicious fights and sudden, insensible moments of staged affection.

Later they’d gone to the same boys’ boarding school and Sandro had become Leo’s champion, his hero, a sixth former to his first year, cricket star and straight-A pupil. Yet always with the time, patience and affection for his quieter, shyer younger brother. Until he’d decided to leave all of it—and him—behind.

Childish memories, Leo told himself now. Infantile thoughts. Whatever hero worship he’d had for his brother, he’d long since lost it. He didn’t care any more, hadn’t for years. The damnable lump in his throat was simply annoying.

‘Alessandro has agreed to return to his rightful place,’ his father said and Leo’s gaze swung slowly to the King.

‘His rightful place,’ he repeated. ‘You mean...?’

‘When I am gone, he will be King.’

Leo didn’t react. He made sure not to. He kept completely still, not even blinking, even as inside he felt as if he’d staggered back from a near-fatal blow. In one swoop his father had taken his inheritance, his reason, away from him. For fifteen years he’d worked hard to prove he was worthy, that he would be a good king. He’d sacrificed desire for duty, had shaped his life to become the next monarch of Maldinia.

And just like that, on his father’s whim, he wouldn’t be. He turned to Sandro, saw his brother’s lips twist in a grimace of a smile.

‘So you’re off the hook, Leo.’

‘Indeed.’ Of course his brother would see it that way. His brother had never wanted to be king, had walked away from it all, hating both the artifice and the pretension of royal life. He’d forged his own path in California; had started a highly successful IT firm, or so Leo’s Internet searches had told him. And now he was leaving that all behind to return, to take Leo’s place?

And leave Leo with...nothing?

Not even a wife. There was, he realised hollowly, no reason at all for him and Alyse to be married. To stay married. A week or so of fragile feeling surely didn’t justify a life sentence. She would want to be free and so would he.

He did. He would.

He turned back to his father, unable to miss the cold glitter of triumph in the King’s eyes. ‘So how did this come to pass?’ he asked in as neutral a tone as he could manage.

‘I’ve always wanted Alessandro to be King,’ his father answered shortly. ‘It is his birthright, his destiny. You’ve known that.’

Of course he had, just as he’d known he was a poor second choice. He’d simply thought he’d proved himself enough in the last fifteen years to make up for the deficiency of being born second.

‘And after this latest debacle...’ King Alessandro continued, his lips twisting in contempt. ‘All the work we’ve done has been destroyed in one careless moment, Leo.’ The work we’ve done? Leo wanted to answer. To shout.

His father had done nothing, nothing to restore the damn monarchy. He’d let his son—his second son—do all the work, shoulder all the responsibility. He said nothing. He knew there was no point.

The King drew himself up. ‘Bringing Alessandro back will restore the monarchy and its reputation, its place at the head of society. New blood, Leo, fresh air. And we can forget about what happened with you and Alyse.’

Forget them both, tidy them away just as his father had done with Alessandro all those years ago. Move onto the next chapter in this damnable book.

But he didn’t want to move on. He wouldn’t have his life—his love—treated as no more than an unfortunate mistake. He didn’t care so much about being king, Leo realised with shock, as being Alyse’s husband. I’ve fallen in love with my wife. And it didn’t matter any more.

Alyse didn’t love him, not really. She might have convinced herself once, and she’d probably do so again, but it wasn’t real. It wouldn’t last, just as nothing had been real or lasting in his life.

Why should he trust this? Her? Or even himself, his own feelings that might vanish tomorrow?

‘The matter is finished,’ King Alessandro stated. ‘Alessandro has accepted his birthright. He will return to live in Maldinia and take up his royal duties.’

Without waiting for a reply, the King left the room, left the two brothers alone as a silence stretched on between them.

‘He’s still the same,’ Sandro said after a moment, his voice flat and almost uninterested. ‘Nothing’s really changed.’

Everything’s changed. Everything has just changed for me. Leo swallowed the words, the anger. He didn’t want to feel it; there was no point. He wouldn’t be king; he had no wife. ‘I suppose,’ he said.

‘I’ll need you, if you’re willing,’ Sandro said. ‘You can pick whatever post you want. Cabinet minister?’ He smiled, and for the first time Leo saw warmth in his brother’s face, lighting his eyes. ‘I’ve missed you, Leo.’

Not enough to visit, or even write. But then, he hadn’t either. First he’d been forbidden, and then later he’d told himself he didn’t care.

Now grief for all he’d lost rushed through him and he turned his face away, afraid Sandro would see all he felt in his eyes. ‘Welcome back, Sandro,’ he said when he trusted himself to speak and then he left the room.

* * *

Alyse paced the sitting room of the apartment they’d been given in one wing of the palace, her hands clenched, her stomach clenched, everything inside her taut with nerves. Her worries and uncertainties about the TV interview, and what Leo had said, had been replaced with the fear of what Sandro’s return would mean for Leo—and her.

For she’d had a terrible certainty, as she’d watched Leo head for his father’s study like a man on his way to the gallows, that everything had changed.

The door opened and she whirled around.

‘Leo.’

His mouth twisted in what Alyse suspected was meant to be a smile but didn’t remotely come close. ‘It seems,’ he said, striding towards the window, ‘that we’re both off the hook.’

‘Off the hook? What do you mean? What’s happened, Leo? Why has Sandro come back?’

‘My father summoned him.’

Alyse stared at him, saw the terrible coldness, almost indifference, on his face. ‘Why did he leave in the first place?’

Leo shrugged and turned away. ‘He hated royal life. Hated the way we always pretended and hated the burden of becoming king. He went to university, and when he received his diploma he decided to trade it all in for a life of freedom in the States.’

There was something that Leo wasn’t saying, Alyse knew. Many things. He spoke tonelessly, but she felt his bitterness, his rage and even his hurt. She took a step closer to him. ‘And why were you never in touch?’

‘My parents forbade it. You don’t walk away from royalty, especially not when you’ve been groomed to be king for your entire life.’

Shock blazed coldly through her as she realised what he was saying. ‘So when he walked away, you were the heir.’

‘Were,’ Leo repeated. ‘Yes.’

His voice was toneless, yet to Alyse he still sounded so bleak. She knew this man, knew when he was angry or happy or hurt. And right now she wanted to help him...if only she knew how. ‘Leo, talk to me. Turn around and look at me, please. What’s happened? Why are you so...?’

‘I’m not anything,’ he answered, and he turned around to look at her, his face as blank as his voice. ‘I told you, Alyse, we’re both off the hook.’

‘I don’t understand why you’re saying that. What it means.’

‘I’m off the hook for becoming king,’ Leo explained slowly, as if she were a dim-witted child. ‘And you’re off the hook for being married to me.’

As if her wits were truly affected, it took her a few seconds to realise what he meant. ‘What does your brother have to do with our marriage?’ she whispered.

‘Everything and nothing. Admittedly, I doubt he even knew I was married, but since he’s accepted his birthright once more I’m no longer heir to the throne. Our marriage was a royal alliance, admittedly a forced one due to all the media attention. But there are no more reasons, Alyse.’ He spread his hands wide, eyebrows raised in expectation. ‘The media has sussed us out, and I’m not even going to be king in the first place. So it doesn’t matter what either of us do.’

‘And just what is it,’ Alyse asked, her voice shaking, ‘that you want to do?’

He lowered his brows, his expression flattening out. ‘I see no reason for either of us to stay in a sham of a marriage.’

A sham of a marriage. She thought of what he’d said on air, how it had filled her for a few moments with a wary hope. A hope she hadn’t quite been able to let go of, even now. I’ve fallen in love with my wife. Obviously he’d been spinning more lies to Larissa Pozzi, just as everything had been lies, perhaps even this last week or so.

‘So you’re suggesting a divorce,’ she said flatly and for a moment Leo didn’t respond.

‘It seems sensible,’ he finally said and a sudden, choking rage filled her, made her unable to speak.

‘You bastard,’ she finally managed, her voice thick with tears. ‘Have you meant anything you’ve ever said? Do you even know how to be real or honest or anything?’

‘Probably not.’

Alyse pressed her fists to her eyes and drew a shuddering breath. Now was not the time for tears. She’d have plenty of time, endless amounts, later to weep, to mourn. ‘Leo.’ She dropped her hands and forced herself to meet his cold, blank gaze. ‘What about these last few weeks? What about how things changed between us, about how you said—’

‘How I didn’t know how much I had to give?’ he filled in, a mocking edge to his voice. ‘Well, now I do, and it turns out it’s not all that much.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ she whispered. ‘When just last night—’

‘That was last night.’ He swung around sharply, his hands jammed in his pockets as he stared out the window once more.

‘And the fact that you won’t be king changes your feelings towards me?’ Alyse asked helplessly. ‘I don’t understand how that happens—’

‘It was a week, Alyse. Ten days at most.’ His voice echoed through the room with the sharp report of a rifle as he turned back to face her. ‘A single bloody week. And yes, there were very nice parts, and the intensity made both of us think it could turn into more, which is understandable. We were looking at a marriage, after all, and trying to find a way to make it work.’

‘We’re still looking at a marriage—’

‘No,’ he answered flatly, ‘we’re not.’

It was like hammering on an iron door, she thought hopelessly, battering her fists and her heart against a stone wall. There was simply no way inside him, no way to understand what was going on behind that cold mask.

‘Don’t do this, Leo,’ she whispered, her voice breaking. ‘Please.’ He gave no answer, not even a flicker of emotion in his eyes or a grimacing twist of his mouth. ‘So what is meant to happen now?’ she asked, her voice turning to raw demand. ‘Am I just meant to...leave? Are you kicking me out?’

‘Of course not. You may stay in the palace as long as you like. I’ll leave.’

‘Where will you—’

‘It hardly signifies. I’ll send you the paperwork.’

Alyse stared at him, those stern, hard features she’d come to know so well. Those mobile lips she’d kissed, the body she’d touched...the heart she loved.

She loved him, she knew that now, felt it inside her like a shining gold light, and Leo was doing his damnedest to extinguish it. They’d been married for ten days.

‘Please,’ she said one last time, and he didn’t reply. Didn’t move, didn’t even blink. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Alyse slowly turned and walked out of the room.

She walked down the corridor with its crystal chandeliers and sumptuous carpet, barely aware of her surroundings, or the liveried footmen standing to attention as she came to the top of the double staircase that led down into the palace’s entrance hall. Her mind was spinning and she tasted acid in her mouth. Swallowing hard, she sank onto a spindly little gilt bench, her head in her hands.

‘Your Highness—’ One of the footmen started forward in concern.

‘Just leave me,’ she whispered, her head still in her hands. ‘Please.’ The footman stepped back. Alyse tried to marshal her thoughts. What would she do now? Where would she go? Her entire life, since she was eighteen years old and little more than a naïve child, had been oriented towards being Leo’s wife, Maldinia’s queen, and now that was taken away from her she was left spinning in a void of uncertainty.

Why was he doing this? Why didn’t he believe their marriage was worth saving, that she loved him?

Just like you loved him when you were eighteen? When you told him you loved him, and then took it back? And haven’t told him since, haven’t trusted that any of this is real?

Could she really blame Leo for doubting not just his feelings, but her own? She’d doubted them. She’d insisted she was in love with him once, only for him to prove her disastrously wrong. Was it any wonder he doubted? His whole life people had been telling him they loved him—his parents, his brother, and they’d all, in their own way, been liars.

Why should he think she was any different?

She straightened, her gaze unseeing as thoughts tumbled through her mind. Did she love him now, a real, strong love, not the girlish fancy of before? She felt the answer in her heart, beating with strong, sure certainty.

Yes.

And she’d never told him. She’d begged him to change his mind, had acted as if it was all up to him, when she was the one who needed to take control. Who could be strong.

Her legs felt shaky as she stood up and walked slowly back to the apartment where she knew Leo waited. Where her heart, her whole life, waited.

Taking a deep breath, letting the air buoy her lungs, she opened the door and stepped into the room.

Leo sat on the bed, his elbows braced on his knees, his head lowered. Alyse’s heart ached at the sight of his wretchedness even as new hope flickered to life within her heart. This wasn’t a man unaffected by what just happened, the man who had coldly stared her down and almost—almost—won.

‘Leo.’

He looked up, blinking as if she were an apparition. Alyse saw grief etched in the lines of his face before he deliberately blanked his expression. She knew how he did that now. She was starting to understand why. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I want to finish our conversation.’

‘I think our conversation is quite finished, Alyse. There’s nothing more to say.’

‘I have something more to say.’

‘Oh?’ He arched one eyebrow, coldly skeptical, but Alyse knew it was only a mask. At least, she hoped it was only a mask, that underneath the stern coldness beat the heart of the warm, generous man she’d come to know—and love. Yet even now fear and doubt skittered along her spine, crept into her mind. She forced them back.

‘You told me once you wanted there to be no lies or pretence between us.’ He jerked his head in a tiny nod, and Alyse made herself continue despite the fear coursing through her veins. ‘And I don’t want there to be either. So if you’re going to dissolve our marriage, ask for a divorce, then you need to give me the real reason.’

‘I did give you the real reason.’

‘I don’t think you did.’

His mouth tightened. ‘That’s not my problem, Alyse.’

‘No, it’s mine. Because I haven’t been honest either. I’ve been so afraid—afraid of losing you by pushing too hard or asking for too much. And afraid of my own feelings, if I could trust them.’ He didn’t respond, but she saw a wary alertness in his eyes and knew he was listening. Emboldened, she took a step forward. ‘I really did believe I loved you all those years ago, you know,’ she said softly. ‘And then when I started to get to know you properly, I began to doubt the feelings I’d had...just as you doubted them.’ She hesitated, wanting to be honest yet needing to search for the words. ‘It was a terrible feeling, to realise I’d fooled myself for so long. It made me wonder if I could ever trust my feelings—my own heart—again. Or if anyone else could. Like you.’

Still nothing from him, but Alyse kept on. She sat next to him on the bed, her thigh nudging his, needing his touch, his warmth. ‘I’ve come to understand just a little how you must have endured the same thing. Your parents telling you they love you, but only for the cameras. Not really meaning it.’ She waited, but he didn’t answer. ‘And your brother too—leaving you like that. You were close, weren’t you?’

His throat worked and he glanced away. ‘Yes,’ he said, and his voice choked.

She laid a hand on his arm. ‘For your whole life people have been letting you down, Leo, pretending they love you and then doing something else. Is it any wonder you’re afraid of relationships, of love, now? I’m afraid and I didn’t have that experience.’

‘I’m not afraid—’

‘Don’t lie to me. Love is scary, even when you don’t have the kind of emotional baggage you do. Or I do, for that matter. Pretending we’re in love for six years didn’t do either of us any favours.’

‘That’s why I want this marriage to end. No more pretending. No more lies.’

Alyse drew a deep breath. ‘So you’d be telling the truth if you said you didn’t feel anything for me?’ No answer, but at least a vigorous yes hadn’t sprung to his lips. ‘Because I wouldn’t. I do feel something for you, Leo. Something I didn’t trust at first because of everything that had gone before. And maybe I’m still not exactly sure what love is, what it feels like, but with every moment I’m with you I believe I feel it for you.’ She took another breath and let it out slowly. ‘I love you, Leo.’

He let out a short, hard laugh. ‘I’ve heard that before.’

‘I know, which is why I’ve been so afraid of saying it again. What I felt for you before was a schoolgirl crush, a childish fancy. I was overwhelmed by how everything had moved so quickly, by the attention of the press, and the way my parents were thrilled—the whole world was thrilled. I wanted the fairy tale, and so I bought into it.’ She reached for his hand, laced her fingers through his. He didn’t, at least, pull away or even resist. ‘But this last week has shown me that love isn’t a fairy tale, Leo. It’s hard and painful and messy. It hurts. And yet it’s also wonderful, because when I’m with you there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.’ Still no words from him, but she felt him squeeze her fingers slightly, and hope began to unfurl inside her. ‘I love seeing you smile, hearing you laugh, feeling you inside me. And I love the fact that I’ve come to know you, that I can tell when you’re amused or annoyed or angry or hurt. That I recognise the way you try to veil your expression and hide your pain. That I know when you’re reading something that bores you in the newspaper but you keep reading anyway because you just have to finish the page.’

Leo’s lips twitched in an almost-smile and Alyse laughed softly, no more than a breath of sound. ‘Loving someone is knowing them,’ she continued quietly. ‘I didn’t understand that at first. I thought it was a lightning bolt, or an undeniable rush of feeling. But it’s more than that. It’s understanding a person inside and out. I can’t pretend I understand you completely, but I think I’m beginning to. I’m starting to see how a childhood of pretending—a lifetime of pretending—has made you not just doubt other people’s feelings, but your own. You told me you loved me when we were on television, and I was afraid to believe you. I think you were afraid to believe yourself. That’s why you tried to deny it afterwards. It’s why I didn’t press the matter. All out of fear.’

He gazed down at their intertwined hands, his thumb sliding over her fingers. ‘You did say love was scary,’ he said in a low voice.

‘Absolutely. It’s terrifying. But I also think it’s worth it—it’s worth the risk of being hurt. Loneliness might be easier, but it’s bleak too.’ She squeezed his fingers, imbuing him with her strength. Her hope. ‘I don’t expect you to love me yet. I know we both need time to learn to trust each other. To know each other. But I’m asking you, Leo—I’m begging you, give us that chance. Don’t turn away from our marriage just because you’re not going to be king. I never cared about you being king. I was scared of being queen. I just want to be with you.’

‘That’s not why I turned away.’

She stilled, her fingers frozen in his. ‘No?’

He took a deep breath. ‘I turned away because I was afraid. Because I’ve learned it’s easier to be the first one to pull away, before you’re pushed.’

‘And you thought I’d...I’d push you? Because you weren’t king?’

‘I don’t know what I thought, to be honest.’ He glanced up, his gaze hooded, his eyes dark with pain. ‘I was acting on instinct, shutting down, closing up. It’s what I’ve always done, and I knew I had to do it with you. You’ve had more power to hurt me than anyone else, Alyse. Do you know how utterly terrifying that is?’

She managed a shaky smile, felt the sting of tears behind her lids. ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘As a matter of fact, I do.’

‘You’re wrong, you know. I don’t need time to learn to love you, or know you. I already do. I didn’t mean to say that on television—the words just spilled out. It was as if I couldn’t keep from saying them. I had to be honest about how I felt, not just to you, but to the whole world.’

Alyse felt her mouth curve in an understanding smile. ‘And then as soon as you were, you wanted to take it all back.’

‘Self-protection, just a little too late.’

‘This is hard, no question.’

‘As soon as you left the room I wanted to run after you. Take it all back. Beg—just like I used to beg my mother to spend time with me, to love me, or my brother not to leave.’ He was quiet for a moment, his gaze still on their twined hands. ‘He was a hero to me, you know. I adored him. He always looked out for me at school, he felt like the only person who really knew me—’

‘And he left,’ Alyse finished softly. ‘He left you.’

‘I can’t really blame him. The atmosphere in the palace has always been toxic, and he had it worse than I did, buried under my parents’ expectations.’ Leo sighed and shook his head. ‘But yes, he left, and it hurt. A lot. I told myself I’d never be like that again, needing someone so much, begging them to stay.’

Her heart ached and she blinked back tears. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I don’t know what kind of relationship we can have, now that he’s back.’

‘You’ll find a way. Love endures, Leo. And you still love him.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I suppose I do.’

It was, she knew, a big admission for him to make. And yet she needed more; they needed more. ‘And what about us, Leo?’ Alyse touched his cheek, forced him to meet her soft gaze. ‘What kind of relationship can we have?’

His navy gaze bored into hers, searching for answers, and then his mouth softened in a slight smile. ‘A good one, I hope. A marriage...a real marriage. If you’ll have me.’

‘You know I will.’

He turned his head so his lips brushed her fingers. ‘I’m not saying I won’t make mistakes. I will, I’m sure of it. This still terrifies me, now more than ever. I’ve never loved anyone before, not like this.’

‘Me neither,’ Alyse whispered.

‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he continued, his voice turning ragged. ‘I love you, Alyse, so much, but I’m afraid—afraid that I will—’

‘That’s part of loving someone,’ she answered, her voice clogged with tears, tears of happiness, of hope and relief and pure emotion, rather than sorrow. ‘The joy and the pain. I’ll take both, Leo, with you.’

Yet as his arms came around her and his lips found hers in a soft and unending promise, Alyse knew only joy. The joy, the wondrous joy, of being known and loved.

* * * * *