Читать книгу The Future King's Love-Child - Melanie Milburne, Melanie Milburne - Страница 6

CHAPTER THREE

SAM’S little hand suddenly clutched at the front of Cassie’s uniform, his eyes huge in his stricken face. ‘You’re c-coming back again, aren’t you, Mummy?’

Cassie squatted down to his level and looked deep into his troubled gaze. ‘Yes, sweetie, of course I am.’

His expression was still white with worry. ‘You’re not g-going to be locked away like before, are you?’

Cassie suppressed a frown as she hugged him close. She had always tried to be as honest with him as possible without distressing him with details too difficult for him to understand. After all, it seemed pointless pretending the fifteen-foot-high barbed wire and concrete enclosure of the Aristo prison was some sort of luxury accommodation, but she had never gone into the sordid details of why she had had to be housed there. But it made her wonder who had been talking to him about her past and why. He was only just five years old. Apart from her flatmate and close friend, Angelica, he was with her all the time at the orphanage. But it was clear someone had said something to him, or perhaps he had overheard some staff members talking.

‘Baby, that was a long time ago and it’s never going to happen again, I promise you with all my heart,’ she said, holding him gently by his thin little shoulders. ‘I am never going to be separated from you again. Never.’

Sam’s chin wobbled slightly and his stammer continued in spite of his effort to control it. ‘I heard Spiro t-talking to one of the carers,’ he said. ‘He said you k-killed my grandfather, and that you said it was an accident, but no one believed you.’

Cassie bit down on her bottom lip. She had naively hoped this conversation was several years away, but the gardener at the orphanage had never liked her since she had spurned his advances a few months ago. But that he would discuss her past with one of the children’s carers was reprehensible to say the least. She loved her job. She needed her job. It wasn’t just the money—the wage was hardly what anyone would call lucrative; it was the fact that for once in her life she was able to give something back to those in need. She had misspent her youth, wasted so many precious years being seen at the right parties with the right people, turning into a glamorous coat hanger for the ‘right’ clothes, mouthing the vacuous words that marked her as a shallow socialite looking for a good time.

The more her prestige-conscious and controlling father had protested, the more outrageous she had become. Cassie hadn’t needed the prison psychologist to tell her why she had behaved the way she had. She had known it from the very first time she had realised what her birthday represented. It was certainly not a date to be celebrated, but she hadn’t realised the sick irony of it until she had faced the judge and jury.

Cassandra Kyriakis had not just killed her father, but on the day she had come into the world she had taken her mother’s life as well.

Cassie hugged Sam close to her chest, breathing in the small-child scent of him, her heart swelling with overwhelming love. ‘We’ll talk about this when I get back and Mummy will explain everything. I won’t be away long, my precious,’ she said. ‘I’m just having a quick lunch with…with a friend.’

Sam eased back in her hold to look up at her. ‘Who with, Mummy? Have I met them?’ he asked.

Cassie shook her head and gently ruffled the black silk of his hair. ‘No, you have never met him,’ she said, her heart aching at the thought of her little boy never knowing his father. She had never known her mother and often wondered if her life would have been different for her if she had.

‘He’s a very important person on Aristo,’ she added. ‘He is soon to be the king.’

Sam’s eyes were like wide black pools. ‘Can I give you a picture to take for him to hang at his palace?’ he said. ‘Do you think he would like that?’

She smiled at him tenderly, her heart squeezing again. ‘You know something, sweetie, I think he would.’

He scampered over to his little wooden desk and brought back a coloured drawing of a dog and a cat and something she thought looked like a horse. ‘If he likes it I can do another one and you can give it to him the next time you see him,’ he said with a shy smile.

‘That’s a great idea,’ Cassie said and, folding the picture neatly, put it in her handbag. She didn’t like to tell her little son she didn’t intend seeing Sebastian again. Instead she got to her feet and, holding his hand, led him back to Sophie, one of the chief carers at the orphanage. She bent down and gave him another quick hug and kiss, and, while Sophie cleverly distracted him with a puzzle she had set out, Cassie quietly slipped out.

* * *

The palace was no less intimidating in the daylight than it had been the night before. With commanding views over most of the island, including the resort and Bay of Apollonia and the casino and the Port of Messaria, the royal residence was much more than a landmark. Every time Cassie had seen those twinkling lights from the prison on the western end of the island she had thought of the richness of Aristo as a kingdom and how Sebastian’s father, King Aegeus, had built it up to be the wealthy paradise it was today.

It was only as Cassie came up to the imposing front gates that she realised Sebastian hadn’t given her instructions on how to gain access. But she need not have worried, for waiting at the entrance was the aide, Stefanos, who had been present the previous evening. After a quick word to the guards on duty he led her through the palace, using a similar route to the night before, but this time taking her to a sitting room overlooking the formal gardens of the palace.

‘The Prince Regent will be with you shortly,’ Stefanos informed her and closed the door firmly on his exit.

Cassie let out her breath in a ragged stream and looked to where a small dining table with two chairs had been assembled in front of one of the large windows.

The door opened behind her and she turned to see Sebastian enter the room. He was wearing charcoal-grey trousers and a white open-necked shirt, the cuffs rolled back casually past his wrists. It didn’t seem to matter what he wore, he still had an imposing air about him, an aura of authority and command that only added to his breathtakingly handsome features.

‘I am glad you decided to come,’ he said into the silence.

‘I figured the orphanage is not quite ready for an impromptu visit from royalty,’ Cassie said, thinking on her feet. ‘The press attention might have upset the children.’

He frowned as he came closer. ‘Seeing you at the gala last night was a shock,’ he said, looking down at her. ‘A big shock.’

‘Did you think I had escaped from prison and had come to gatecrash your party?’ she asked, not quite able to subdue the bitterness in her tone.

He gave her a long and studied look. ‘No, Cassie, I did not think that. It was just that I wish I had been told you had been released.’

‘You could have made your own enquiries,’ she pointed out and, with another embittered look, tacked on, ‘discreetly, of course.’

A two-beat silence passed.

‘You are very bitter,’ he observed.

‘I’ve lost almost six years of my life,’ she bit out. ‘Do you know what that feels like, Sebastian? The world is suddenly a different place. I feel like I don’t belong anywhere any more.’

‘You killed your father, Cassie,’ he reminded her. ‘I am not sure what led you to do that, but the laws of this island dictate you must pay for that in some way. There are many people on Aristo who feel you have been given a very lenient sentence.’

‘Yes, well, they didn’t know my father, did they?’ she shot back without thinking.

His frown deepened. ‘Your father was well respected in all quarters. What are you saying…that he was not the private man we all knew in public?’

Cassie wished she could have pulled her words back. She had revealed far more than she had intended to. She had told no one of her father’s behaviour over the years. Who would believe her if she had? It was a secret, a dirty secret that she alone had lived with. Shame had always kept her silent and it would continue to do so. Besides, she hadn’t done herself any favours behaving like a spoilt brat for most of her life. Her father had played on that for all it was worth, publicly tearing his hair out over her behaviour to all his well-connected friends and colleagues.

Cassie quickly averted her gaze, and, shuffling in her bag, drew out the picture Sam had drawn in a desperate attempt to change the subject. ‘Um…I almost forgot to give you this,’ she said, handing it to him with fingers that made the paper give a betraying rattle. ‘One of the…er…orphans drew it for you. He insisted I give it to you.’

He took the picture and gently unfolded it, his eyes taking in the childish strokes of pencil and brightly coloured crayons. ‘It is very…nice,’ he said and brought his gaze back to hers. ‘You said this child is without parents?’

Cassie looked at him blankly for a moment.

‘Um…well…I…he’s…’

‘The child is a boy?’

‘Yes.’

‘And an orphan.’ He looked back at the drawing, his brows moving together over his eyes. ‘How old is he?’ he asked, looking back at her again.

Cassie felt as if his eyes were burning a pathway to her soul. ‘He’s…five or thereabouts,’ she said, shifting her gaze once more.

‘Too young to be all alone in the world,’ Sebastian said with deep compassion in his tone. ‘Do you know anything of his background, where he came from, who his parents were or what happened to them?’

The hole Cassie had dug for herself was getting bigger by the moment. She could feel the fast pace of panic throughout her body, making her heart thump unevenly and her skin break out in fine beads of perspiration, some of which were even now beginning to trickle down between her shoulder blades.

‘Cassie?’

‘Um…’ She brushed a strand of hair off her face as she returned her eyes to his, the stutter of her heart painful in her chest. ‘I’m not sure of the details of every individual child’s background. All I know is the children at the Aristo orphanage are there because they don’t have anywhere else to go.’

Sebastian laid the picture on a sideboard as if it were a priceless work of art. ‘I am very touched that a small abandoned child would take the time to do this for me,’ he said in a tone that was gravel-rough. ‘I have lived with nothing but privilege all my life so it is hard for me to imagine what it must be like to have no one you can turn to, especially when one is so young.’

Damn right it is, Cassie silently agreed.

He turned and looked directly at her. ‘I would like to meet this child,’ he said. ‘I would like to thank him personally.’

Cassie felt as if her eyes were going to pop out of her head and land on the carpeted floor at his feet. She looked at him in abject horror, her mouth opening and closing like a stranded fish, her heart going so hard and fast it felt as if it were going to come through the wall of her chest. ‘I—I’m not sure that can be arranged,’ she stammered.

He gave her a frowning look. ‘I fail to see why not. After all, I am now the royal patron of the orphanage. It is only reasonable and fair that I give my support in ways other than financial.’

‘Y-yes, but showing preference for one child over another is not to be advised,’ Cassie said, relieved she could think of something reasonably plausible on the spot. ‘The child who sent you this drawing is one of many who long to be noticed. You would be doing more harm than good singling any one of them out over another.’

His gaze was still unwavering on hers. ‘What if I were to invite all the children to a special party at the palace?’ he suggested. ‘That way no one will feel left out.’

‘Um…I…I…’ she choked as her self-made petard gave her another sharp poke.

‘At the gala it occurred to me that the most important people were not at the event—the children themselves,’ he went on. ‘I had a word to my events secretary about arranging something last night.’

Cassie was still trying to get her voice to cooperate. ‘Um…is that such a good idea?’ she asked. ‘The kids might be a little intimidated by the palace… I mean, royal protocol is off-putting enough for adults…’

‘My father had a hands-off approach when it came to the organisations he put his name to,’ he said. ‘I intend to do things differently, and what better place to start than the orphanage right on the palace doorstep?’

‘It’s hardly on the doorstep,’ Cassie said. ‘It’s practically attached to the prison.’

He rubbed at his jaw for a moment. ‘Yes, that is true. But that is something I would like to discuss with you over lunch.’ He pulled out one of the chairs next to the small dining table. ‘Would you care to sit down?’

‘Thank you,’ Cassie said, immensely glad of the seat as her legs were still trembling out of control.

She watched as he took his own seat, his longs legs brushing against hers under the table. She drew in a quick, unsteady breath and moved her legs back, but she could still sense the heat and strength of his in close proximity to hers.

Sebastian rang a small bell, and within seconds the aide appeared pushing a trolley with several covered dishes as well as iced water and a bottle of chilled white wine.

Cassie sat fidgeting with the neck of her uniform as the aide served them both the light lunch of char-grilled octopus and a Greek salad and fresh crusty rolls.

‘Would you care for some wine, Dhespinis Kyriakis?’

‘No…thank you,’ she said. ‘Water will be fine. Thank you.’

‘Thank you, Stefanos,’ Sebastian said once his wine and Cassie’s water had been poured. ‘Has a date been confirmed for the event we discussed?’

‘Yes, Your Highness,’ Stefanos said and handed Sebastian a slip of paper. ‘Your diary has been cleared.’

Sebastian glanced down at the date on the paper before he folded it and slipped it into the breast pocket of his shirt. ‘That was very efficient of you, Stefanos,’ he said. ‘Well done.’

The aide bowed respectfully and left the room, closing the door softly but firmly behind him.

Sebastian picked up his glass of wine, twirling it in his hand for a moment as he centred his gaze on Cassie. ‘You do not drink alcohol any more, Cassie?’ he asked.

Cassie looked at the tiny condensation bubbles clinging to the outside of his crystal glass and wondered if she would ever be able to look at alcohol again without feeling shame. In the past she had done so many things while inebriated she would never have done normally. She cringed at the thought of how she had come across to so many people, Sebastian included. She had always been the life of the party, laughing and carefree as drink after drink had been consumed. Her worries had lessened with every mouthful and, even though the headaches the next morning had been unpleasant, she had been prepared to put up with some discomfort for the temporary reprieve the consumption of alcohol had given her.

She was suddenly conscious of the stretching silence and Sebastian’s steady dark gaze on her. ‘I lost my taste for alcohol while I was in prison,’ she said quietly. ‘I haven’t touched it since.’

‘That is probably a good thing,’ he said. ‘I don’t drink as much as I did when I was young. I guess we have grown up, ne? A glass of wine at lunch or dinner is plenty.’

‘Do you ever see any of the gang we used to hang around with?’ Cassie asked once they had commenced eating the delicious salad.

‘The brat-pack?’ he asked with a ghost of a wistful smile.

Cassie nodded, thinking of the hip crowd and the hangers-on they had associated with six years ago. She could almost guarantee she had been the only one to end up with a criminal record. The others were like Sebastian, out to have fun until family duty called. Not like she, who had been looking for something to take her mind off what she couldn’t quite face…

‘I see a few of them, of course, do business occasionally with them,’ Sebastian said, and then smiled. ‘I do not see so much of Odessa Tsoulis. Last I heard she had married a billionaire from Texas.’

Cassie felt a small smile tug at her mouth. ‘She was rather intent on landing herself a rich husband, if I recall.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Sebastian said with a small laugh. ‘She was good fun. I liked her. She was very no-nonsense if you know what I mean. What you saw was what you got.’

‘Unlike me.’ Cassie wasn’t sure why she had said it, much less how she was going to deal with it now it was said. She looked away from his suddenly penetrating gaze, and, picking up her fork with a tiny rattle against the plate, resumed eating, but with little appetite.

‘Tell me about it, Cassie,’ he pressed her gently. ‘Tell me what happened that night.’

Cassie stared at one of the octopus curls on her plate and wished herself a thousand miles away. Why couldn’t he leave the past where it belonged? What good did it do to haul over the ice-cold coals of regret? She couldn’t change anything. That had been the problem in the first place.

She couldn’t change anything.

‘I’d rather not talk about it,’ she said, and put her fork down with another little clatter against the edge of the plate.

‘Did you have an argument or something?’ he asked.

‘Or something,’ she said with a curl of her lip. ‘I said leave it, Sebastian. It’s done with. I don’t like being reminded of it.’

‘It must have been terrifying for you to be carted off to prison like that,’ he said, clearly determined to keep pressing her.

Cassie gave him a resentful look. ‘I didn’t happen to see you in the crowd to offer me your support.’

His expression darkened. ‘Would you have accepted my support if I had offered it?’ he asked. ‘You told me never to contact you again, remember? In any case I went abroad for several months after you ended our affair. I didn’t hear much about what was going on and no one in my family thought to tell me because they didn’t even know of our involvement. By the time I got back my father had already warned Lissa never to contact you and had packed her off to university in Paris before she could utter a single word of protest.’

‘So when you did get back you let me rot in prison because you didn’t want your father to find out we’d had an affair,’ she said bitterly.

‘Wrong!’ He was only a decibel or two away from shouting the word at her. ‘Cassie, why can’t you see this from my point of view?’

Cassie got up from the table, pushing in her chair with such force it sent a shock wave through his wineglass, the alcohol spilling over the edges and onto the crisp white tablecloth. ‘Oh, I can see this from your point of view, all right,’ she snipped at him. ‘A few months ago I was just yet another nameless person locked away in prison. Someone from your past you didn’t dare speak about, much less step forward and defend. Now you find I am one of the key players at the orphanage you want to support, so you think it might be timely to pour oil over troubled waters to mollify me enough to maintain your reputation in case I spill all to the press about our little clandestine affair.’

‘I care nothing for my reputation,’ he ground out with a flintlike flash of his dark eyes. ‘It is my family I am concerned about. I owe it to the generations of Karedes who have gone before me to act in a manner fitting for a future king.’

She rolled her eyes at him. ‘So I guess that’s why we aren’t having lunch where everyone can see us, right, Sebastian? To maintain your family’s honour.’

His brow was still deeply furrowed. ‘I was thinking of your safety. I told you last night there are still many people in the community who think you should have got life in prison.’

‘I did get life!’ Cassie said, closer to tears than she had been in years. ‘Do you think this is ever going to go away? I am marked for life as the daughter who killed her father. I see the way people look at me. They even cross to the other side of the road rather than look me in the eye. Don’t tell me I haven’t already been punished enough. Just don’t tell me.’

He stepped towards her but she moved away, holding up a hand like a barrier to ward him off. ‘Please…’ She was close to begging and hated herself for it. ‘Give me a moment…please…’

Sebastian clenched his hands to stop them reaching for her. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her things would improve now she was free, but he wasn’t sure she wanted to hear such platitudes from him. In any case, he wasn’t entirely sure they held any truth. But he’d also wanted to tell her how deeply shocked he had been to hear of her father’s death and the charge of murder she had been landed with. He could not believe his Caz could have done such a thing. But then he hadn’t thought her capable of the black-hearted deceit she had informed him of the day prior to her father’s death.

She had gone from his bed to one of her many lovers, probably laughing about him behind his back the whole time. His gut still churned thinking about it, even after all this time. She wasn’t the person he had fallen in love with. He realised in hindsight the person he had loved was a fantasy he had constructed in his head. He had been a fool not to see her for what she was. She had acted the part of the devoted lover so easily and he had fallen for it. She was like a chameleon, changing constantly to fit in with the company or each situation she found herself in.

But who was Cassandra Kyriakis now? She had spent five years in prison and another eleven months on parole, an experience any young woman would find life-changing, hopefully even reforming in some way. In any case, her days of living off her father’s wealth were long gone. Theo’s estate had been divided up between distant relatives, leaving Cassie virtually penniless. While her father had been alive, Cassie had spent his money as if entitled to every euro of it.

Each time Sebastian had dared to bring up the subject of her taking a career or job of her own she had laughed in his face, telling him she was having a perfectly fine time living the life of a socialite.

Cassie appeared to enjoy her work at the orphanage now, but what would happen when her parole period was up? Sebastian had had enough trouble adjusting to living constantly in the public eye, but how much worse would it be for Cassie with the shame of her father’s death hanging over her?