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“Prince Gabriel is desperately worried about you,” Libby said.
As sweet as it was for Libby to say, Olivia doubted her use of the word desperately.
“I hope you’ve told him I’m recovering nicely.”
“He might like to see that for himself.”
Olivia’s throat tightened and she shook her head. The words blurred on the sheet of paper she held in her hand and she blinked to clear her vision.
“He really cares for you. It’s obvious.” Libby sat forward, her eyes bright and intense. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so distraught as when we thought you might die. He commanded the doctor to do whatever it took to save you.”
Joy dispelled Olivia’s gloom for a moment as she let herself warm to Libby’s interpretation of events. “Of course he cares,” she agreed, wishing the situation was as simple as that. “We became...close these last few weeks. But he needs an heir. That’s something I can’t give him.”
“But you love him. Surely that counts for more.” Libby spoke quietly as if afraid of how Olivia would react to her audacity.
Olivia starting drawing circles on the notepad. She did love Gabriel, but he must never know. She didn’t want to burden him with something like that. He already had enough guilt on his shoulders with Marissa. He didn’t need to suffer even more regret because another woman entertained a desperate and impossible love for him.
“I love him, but please do not tell a soul,” she rushed on as Libby’s face lit up. “Prince Gabriel needs to find someone new to marry. I don’t want him thinking of me at all as he goes about courting his future bride.”
The thought of Gabriel with another woman made her heart ache, but she fought the pain.
Libby’s delight became determination. “I really think he needs to know.”
Olivia offered her friend a sad smile. “He can’t. Sherdana deserves a queen who can have children.”
“What about what you deserve?” Libby pushed. “Don’t you deserve to be happy?”
“I will be,” she assured her secretary. “My life isn’t over. I’m just starting a new chapter. Not the one I expected to be starting, but how often do we get exactly what we expect?”
Eleven
Staring at pictures of women he’d rejected six months ago wasn’t stimulating Gabriel’s appetite for lunch.
“What do you think of Reinette du Piney?” his mother asked, sliding an eight-by-ten head shot of a very beautiful brunette across the table toward him.
“She’s pigeon-toed,” he replied, slipping his spoon beneath a carrot and lifting it free of the broth. “What exactly is it I’m eating?”
“Creamy carrot soup with anise. The chef is experimenting again.”
“You really must stop him from inflicting his culinary curiosity on us.”
“Gabriel, you cannot reject du Piney because she’s pigeon-toed.”
He wasn’t. He was rejecting her because the only woman he wanted to marry had made it clear she was going to do the right thing for Sherdana even if he wouldn’t.
In the meantime, his mother had persisted in starting the search for his future wife all over again, despite Gabriel’s refusal to contribute anything positive.
“I’m only thinking of our children,” he countered, setting his spoon down and tossing his napkin over it. “Imagine how they’d be teased at school if they inherited their mother’s unfortunate trait.”
“Your children will not be teased at school because they will be tutored at home the way you and your siblings were.” His mother sifted through the pictures and pulled out another. “What about Amelia? You liked her.”
“She was pleasant enough. But I think her husband would take umbrage with me for poaching his wife.”
“Bother.”
Gabriel might have felt like smiling at his mother’s equivalent of a curse if he wasn’t feeling so damned surly. Olivia had left the hospital a few days ago and was staying at the Royal Caron Hotel until her surgeon cleared her for travel. By bribing the man with an enormous donation toward updating the hospital with digital radiology, Gabriel had succeeded in keeping her in Sherdana longer than necessary. He’d hoped she would let him apologize to her in person, but she adamantly refused to see him.
“Gabriel, are you listening to me?”
