Chapter 3
"Leave us," he ordered curtly. The maid bobbed a swift curtsy before hurrying out of the room and closing the doors behind her.
Sofia recapped the lipstick carefully before gazing at him in the vanity mirror. She had expected a visit after the irate call he had made while she was on her way home.
"Hi, darling." Determined to keep her calm, she eyed him as he started pacing the length of her dressing room.
"She has to go."
"I'm assuming you're referring to Señorita Carter."
"You know bloody well--" He reined in his temper at the lift of her elegant brow. "I already told you what she did. I know it's too late to put her on a plane tonight, but first thing in the morning--"
"No."
He stopped his pacing and stared at her in the mirror, an incredulous expression on his handsome face.
"What do you mean, no? She was unforgivably rude to me."
"She did not curtsy."
"It was more than that. She was rude and disrespectful, and she walked out in the middle of a conversation I was having with her."
"What about you?"
"What about me? What on earth are you talking about?"
"What did you say to her?"
His eyes flashed fire. It was interesting to realize that her usually calm and controlled son was practically vibrating with anger. And after just one encounter with the newcomer.
"That does not matter. I'm still Prince Tomas. We cannot have this woman coming from where she's coming from and having the rest of the staff thinking they can bloody well talk to us any way they please. I want her gone, Mother."
"The answer is still no." She rose gracefully, wrapping the rose pink silk gown around her trim figure. "Now, we will discuss this at a later date as I'm running late for supper. Will you be joining us?"
He simply stood there and stared at her, nonplussed. "You're not taking my side on this?"
"Until Señorita Carter proves to me that she is incapable of doing the job, she stays. You're going to have to find a way to get along--"
"I will do no such thing." He straightened to his full height, his face a cold and icy mask. "And I won't be joining you for supper." With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the doors behind him.
Standing in the middle of her closet, she selected silk lounge pants and a matching sweater, taking them with her to her room. He had dismissed her maid when he came in, and she did not have the energy to call her back in. Setting her outfit on the bed, she sat back down with a sigh. She knew her son. Tomas was as rigidly stubborn as she was, and would no doubt consider this as her not standing up for him.
He was spoiled, that blame could be laid at her feet. She loved him from the moment the physician had placed the beautiful baby in her arms. He was the only good thing that had come from her disaster of a marriage to a man she had fallen head over heels in love with. She had been chosen for the union. Her family had money and it had been a strategic move to bring the two of them together. But she had fallen in love and thought she could change him.
It had been a futile effort, one that had continued to pain her for years. She had remained faithful to him and would have wanted more children, but he had told her bluntly that since they had produced an heir, there was no need to try again. So, she had lavished her unrequited love on her son and spoiled him rotten.
Sighing softly, she shrugged out of her robe and got dressed.
*****
She was escorted to the 'informal dining room' by Carmen, who had come up to inform her that there was no need to dress up.
"Just a nice dress or pants and a sweater. It's just you and the queen. Prince Tomas has gone out for the evening."
That had been a relief to her as she was not looking forward to another encounter with his royal arrogance.
The dining room was large but cozy, with a fire simmering in the massive hearth. An oval table was set with a stiff white linen tablecloth. Chandeliers dripped from the concave ceiling, the fire reflecting in the drops of crystals. A lovely bouquet of flowers stood in the center of the table. The queen, with her hair brushed back into a neat chignon, rose from a throne-like chair and gestured her forward, a smile warming her very lovely face.
