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“I needed some time to think.”
The king fixed Gabriel with a hard stare. “How do you intend to handle this?”
“Handle?” Gabriel hadn’t considered how they should approach the press about this latest bombshell. “We could start by sending out a press release downplaying the serious nature of Olivia’s problems, but I’m not sure with her doctor’s records as proof, this is going to do us much good.”
“I meant with Olivia,” the king said, his voice a low rumble.
Gabriel became aware that his entire family was watching him and waiting for his answer. It was as if the occupants of the room had stopped breathing.
“What do you mean?” Gabriel asked, certain he knew where his father was going with the question, but needing to hear it asked out loud.
“You need a wife who can bear children.”
In other words, he must break his engagement with Olivia and reexamine the dozen or so women he’d rejected when he chose her.
“And what am I to say to Lord Darcy? That his daughter’s only value to me lies in her ability to produce heirs?” His father’s glower told Gabriel he’d stepped into dangerous territory with his sarcasm. At the moment, Gabriel didn’t care. What could his father do? For a moment, Gabriel reveled in rebellion. As a teenager, he’d been the best behaved of his siblings, getting into trouble rarely and then never with anything serious.
Nic had started a fire in his room at fifteen experimenting with rockets. Christian had “borrowed” their uncle’s Ferrari when he was fourteen and gone joyriding. The expensive sports car had ended up half submerged in a ditch and Christian had been disciplined, but that had only temporarily slowed him down, not stopped him completely.
Gabriel had shouldered his future responsibility like a dutiful son and the newspapers had been filled with photos of him accompanying his mother on her visits to the hospital and various other charitable events and headlines about how lucky Sherdana was to have such a shining example of youth for their next monarch.
“I had fertility problems, as well,” the queen reminded her husband, breaking the tension between father and son.
“But neither of us had any idea before we married,” the king said, sending his wife a stern look.
“Yet despite your need for an heir, you didn’t set me aside when my troubles came to light.”
“We’d been married two years. How could I have let you go?”
Gabriel saw the unspoken communication that passed between his parents and felt a flare of envy. The emotion didn’t surprise him. He’d felt twinges of it before when watching his parents in private. They were so in sync with each other. He’d hoped for just a little of that depth of intimacy in his own marriage and had begun to believe he’d find it with Olivia.
“Olivia and I will talk later this afternoon.”
“You are intending to break off the engagement.”
“I’m not sure that’s necessary.” He saw his father’s brows come together. “She claims she had surgery to correct the problem. We need to discuss the situation in more depth and consult a doctor before I make such a radical decision.”
The door flew open without a warning knock, catching everyone’s attention. Stewart stood in the open doorway, his face stark with concern.
“Forgive my interruption,” he said, bowing in apology. “Something has happened to Lady Darcy.”
Gabriel’s heart jumped in his chest. He surged to his feet and crossed the room in three strides. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Miss Marshall said she’s locked herself in the bathroom and won’t answer the door.”
“What makes you think something has happened to her?”
“Her clothes are all over the suite and they’ve been shredded.”
Cursing, Gabriel lunged past his secretary and raced down the hallway. Stewart’s long legs usually made him a match for Gabriel, but he had to resort to jogging to keep up.
When Gabriel entered the suite, he registered the destruction in passing but didn’t stop. He rushed over to join Olivia’s private secretary, who was at the bathroom door, knocking and calling for her to answer. Shoving her aside, Gabriel kicked in the door.
When the door frame gave and the door shot open, the metallic tang of blood immediately hit him. Olivia lay on the cold tile, a large crimson patch on her pale blue skirt. Panic tore through him.
“Call an ambulance!” He dropped to his knees beside her and was relieved to see her chest rise and fall. “When did you enter the suite?” he demanded of her private secretary.
“Perhaps ten minutes ago. I called to her but she didn’t open the door or answer. And from what had happened to her clothes I knew something had to be wrong.”
