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He didn’t look at her—didn’t want to see her expression of dismissal or disbelief. He knew that many in Lycander did still believe that his mother had been at fault. Instead he focused on the horizon, on the feel of the grass under his fingers.

‘She didn’t complain, but I sensed her unhappiness, saw how my father treated her—he made no attempt to hide it. Perhaps their marriage was doomed because she didn’t love him. Because she loved your father. Alphonse claimed to love her, but it seemed to me that he treated her like a plaything—a remote-controlled toy that he needed to control. If she didn’t comply, made a mistake, it made him angry. I saw the bruises on her. I just didn’t understand where they came from.’

He sensed Holly’s movement, her shift closer to him. Her body was close and so he continued, hoping against hope that she’d believe his words.

‘So whatever her reasons for marrying him—doing her duty, doing what she felt to be right—it was a mistake. If she could have turned the clock back she wouldn’t have made the same decision.’

‘Maybe she would because she had you.’

The words cut him like a knife. ‘No. I was the reason she was in my father’s control—he had the power to take me away from her.’

He’d been the pawn that had ensured her compliance and in the end had brought her down. So it had all been for naught; she should have cut her losses long before.

‘She loved you, Stefan. Be glad of that.’

Glad—how could he be glad when her loving him had cost her so much? Enough. This was not a conversation that he wanted or needed to have.

‘Holly, just take heed. Live your life as you want to live it—you’ve got one shot. Don’t waste it, or throw it away to do what is “right” for others.’

Holly sighed and he turned, saw the tears that sparkled on her eyelashes.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s all so sad...’

A swipe of her eyes and then she shifted to face him, leant forward and kissed his cheek. The imprint of her lips was so sweet his heart ached.

‘Thank you. For sharing.’

Warning bells clanged in his head. Again. A chaste kiss should not evoke an ache in his heart. Time to pull back—way, way back.

‘You’re welcome.’

A glance at his watch, a final look around the glade and he rose to his feet, stretched out a hand to pull her up. He noted the feel of her fingers around his, the jolt it sent through his whole body.

Make that time to pull way, way, way back. This marriage was a business deal, and he had no intention of blowing it with an injudicious sharing of emotion.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

HOLLY OPENED HER EYES, relieved to see that this morning she was firmly on her side of the pillow barrier. A quick glance over showed that Stefan’s side was empty, and she wondered if he’d even made it to bed. He had cited work the previous evening on their return from Il Boschetto di Sole, and remained glued to his laptop for the duration.

Part of her had welcomed the time to reflect, and part of her had wanted to hold him, to offer comfort after he’d given her that insight into his parents’ marriage.

Guilt and mixed emotions had swirled inside her. She had grown up believing Eloise to be evil incarnate, the harbinger of all her parents’ troubles. Now that picture no longer held good; the woman evoked by Stefan had been a victim just as much as anyone else. Another victim of love and duty. Could Stefan be right? That sometimes following the dutiful path wasn’t the right way?

No! Her situation was a far cry from Eloise’s. Her father loved her, and she wasn’t in love with anyone else... The choice to look after her father was made from love, not duty, and she wanted a family. Yet doubt had unfurled a shoot, and she swung her legs out of bed, determined not to contemplate it or allow it to flourish.

Showered and dressed, she emerged into the living area, found him sitting again in front of the screen.

A continental breakfast was already spread on the table and he glanced up, gestured towards it. ‘Help yourself.’

As she ate, he pushed the screen aside and came to join her. ‘Have you looked at the itinerary for the day?’

‘Of course.’ She sensed the question was part rhetorical, part designed to indicate that today was all about business. ‘We’re visiting a nursery, a school and a community centre. Are you feeling OK?’ Surely he must feel some trepid

ation about the day ahead; the idea of putting himself out there to many Lycandrians.

‘Of course,’ he returned. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing if Frederick is making a difference.’

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