AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He sighed out his irritation. ‘Would it be preferable for me to just appear? At least she’s had some forewarning. Unless you were going to smuggle me out?’
Beatrice felt the guilty wash of colour stain her cheeks. ‘Let’s just get this over with. Don’t say anything,’ she hissed.
‘Is there anything left to say?’
‘I suppose not.’
Her expression was as blank as her voice. Once, he had been able to read everything she felt because she had worn her emotions so close to the surface. Was this what palace life had done to her?
What you did to her.
He’d set her free, which ought to make him feel good. It didn’t, but then he’d always thought doing the right thing was overhyped.
Her sister, dressed in dark ski pants and a chunky cable sweater she wore with the sleeves rolled up, didn’t turn as she continued to stir the scrambled eggs on the stove.
There was an unmistakable chill in the air.
‘Good morning, Dante.’
‘Dante was just—’
‘Let’s not go there, shall we?’ Maya stopped stirring and turned, spoon in hand. She blanked Dante, which was something not many people could manage, and slanted a wry look across at her sister.
Beatrice bit her tongue, though not sure of the words she was biting back. Would the jumble in her head have emerged as a defence or apology?
Maya turned back to her stirring. ‘Want some breakfast, Dante?’ she asked, still not looking at him.
‘No, he doesn’t,’ Beatrice said before Dante could respond. ‘He was just going.’ To emphasise the point she went to the door and opened it. The waft of cold, fresh, snowy air made her gasp but she stood her ground, appeal mingled with the determination in the glance she sent to Dante.
‘Nice to see you, Maya.’ The petite figure continued to stir, presenting her back to him, but he could feel the disapproval radiating off her in waves.
The door closed; the tension left Beatrice’s body. She grabbed the back of one of the dining chairs and lowered herself into the modern plastic bucket seat. ‘How’s your head? The migraine gone?’
‘Fine. All I needed was an early night, but it seems that things got interesting after I left.’ Maya took her pan off the stove and poured a coffee from the full pot. She placed it on the table in front of Beatrice, a worried frown puckering her brow as she scanned her sister’s face.
Beatrice cleared her throat. ‘You must be wondering.’ Now there was an understatement.
Maya shook her head. ‘Just tell me you’re not getting back together, you’re not going back to San Macizo…’
‘I’m never seeing him again,’ Beatrice said and burst into tears.
As for San Macizo, the last time she had left she had left behind part of herself. If she went back she knew she’d lose what she had left.
‘Thank God!’ Maya hefted out a deep sigh of relief.
Beatrice sniffed and dashed the moisture from her face with the back of her hand.
‘Oh, I know it’s not my…and I’m trying to be objective, but honestly, when you came back last time looking like a…a…’
Shocked by the expression on her sister’s face, Beatrice covered her small hand with her own. ‘I’m not going back,’ she cut in, holding her sister’s teary, scared gaze.
‘So what was he…?’
‘Reynard has had a stroke.’
Dismay spread across Maya’s heart-shaped face, melting away the last wisps of disapproval. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. Reynard was such a lovely man, with such a wicked sense of humour. When is the funeral? I’d like to come if I may?’
‘It wasn’t fatal,’ Beatrice said quickly. She got up, picked up a piece of toast and started to butter it, not because she could have eaten a bite, just for something to do. ‘So those buyers lined up to view the samples…’
