AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He grunted a laugh back. As soon as he’d realised how unsuited Clara was to being a royal princess, Amadeo had done a U-turn and worked to prevent Marcelo’s marriage to her, believing the damage she could do with her unfiltered, unthinking ways was too great to risk. He’d been proved wrong—the public loved her and, if he was being truthful with himself, he was growing to love her too—but notthatwrong as it had been his idea and insistence that they marry in the first place. All the same, he often found himself biting his tongue when she was overfamiliar with the staff or shared indiscreet stories that had no place at a royal dinner table. He could easily imagine her overhearing talk and gleefully demanding to know more.
Now he understood why Marcelo had come to his quarters rather than just call him.
‘I had to tell her this was just a spiteful rumour and that you wouldn’t be so callous as to treat your new wife so shabbily,’ Marcelo added.
‘What is shabby about it?’ he asked tightly. ‘She is living in quarters that have been made fit for a queen, with everything she could want or need at her disposal. She wants for nothing.’
‘So it is true?’
‘It is no more and no less than was agreed in the terms of our marriage.’ Terms he’d been upfront about with his family and with the King of Monte Cleure. That Dominic and his advisors hadn’t seen fit to tell Elsbeth about it was regrettable but, once he’d advised her of their living arrangements himself, she’d been perfectly agreeable—whenwasn’tshe agreeable?—to it.Dio, if she was any more sweet and agreeable she’d come coated in fondant icing.
Marcelo’s face darkened. ‘You see nothing of her?’
‘We conduct our engagements together.’
‘And that is it?’ He shook his head in blatant disbelief. ‘Clara and Alessia are desperate to get to know her and invite her out with them but Gabriel and I told them to give you a few weeks to get to know each other and settle into your marriage, and all this time she’s been alone in her quarters? How can you treat her in this way?’
‘Need I remind you that I married a Fernandez to save our country and our monarchy from a situationyouignited? AFernandez.’ He practically spat the word out. ‘I do my duty by her and I do and say nothing disrespectful to her. Elsbeth wants for nothing.’
‘We all hate her family,’ Marcelo snapped. ‘Her cousin kidnapped my wife. If anyone should hate her for her blood it’s Clara, but she wants to give her a chance and befriend her. Elsbeth is a young woman alone in a strange country. You’re her husband. Whatever reason you took those vows, you did take them, and you owe it to her to give her a chance. I’m not saying you have to live with her, but she deservessomething. She might one day be the mother of your children...if the rumours are right that you have graced her with your royal presence in the bedroom on two separate occasions?’
‘Your wife certainly knows how to extract idle gossip,’ he snapped back. It infuriated him that his brother, whose undignified bout of rule-breaking had cast the stone creating ripples that had led to Amadeo having to marry Elsbeth, should cast judgement on him. ‘For your information, Elsbeth is perfectly happy with our living arrangements. I do not interfere with your marriage and I will not tolerate you interfering with mine, so let us regard your lecture as over. You can see yourself out—I have an engagement to attend.’
Downing the last of his scotch, he slammed the crystal glass on top of his three-hundred-year-old piano and stalked out of his quarters.
Amadeo usually enjoyed his time at the Italian embassy. Sharing a language and much of the same culture made the two nations natural allies, and time spent with the gregarious ambassador was rarely a chore. This evening’s engagement was far different to normal, as all his engagements that week had been. Used to working a crowd and meeting dignitaries on his own, having a companion who wasn’t a blood member of his family put a different flavour on events.
The few engagements he’d shared with his wife that week had been designed to ease her into her new role. She’d handled them with aplomb. In truth, it would have been impossible for her to put a foot wrong considering she stuck to his side like glue, smiled vacuously and let him do all the talking.
But those had been business engagements. Tonight’s embassy gathering was a social event in Elsbeth’s honour and, as their first course was being cleared away, she was still to open her mouth for anything other than food.
Biting back his irritation, he leaned into her and whispered, ‘I think the ambassador’s husband is feeling overwhelmed to be sitting next to you. Why don’t you talk to him and put him at ease?’
She blinked slowly, widened her smile and turned to the man in question. Her voice was too low for him to hear what she said but the ambassador’s husband responded. Soon the two of them were deep in conversation...or, rather, the husband was deep in conversation, Elsbeth deep in listening. When the ambassador excused herself for a few minutes, Amadeo turned his full attention to them. Elsbeth’s head was turned away from him but she must have sensed he wished to join in for she adjusted her stance so the conversation could include him too. The husband, it transpired, was telling Elsbeth all about the school his children went to.
‘What subjects do they find the most interesting?’ she asked when he came up for air, which immediately set him off again.
When the ambassador returned to her seat, it struck Amadeo that Elsbeth had so skilfully woven the conversation so that it was all about him, and given him the full weight of her attention, that the ambassador’s husband had hardly registered Amadeo’s presence.
Unsure why this should irk him, Amadeo threw himself back into conversation with the ambassador but when, much later, their coffee cups were being cleared away and everyone in attendance had followed his lead and risen to their feet, he found he still had one ear on Elsbeth and the husband, paying enough attention that both ears strained when he heard the husband say, ‘Are you okay, Your Highness?’
He had to strain even harder to hear her reply and, as she spoke, he realised Elsbeth always pitched her voice so that it was just audible. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’
‘Are you sure? You’ve gone very pale.’
Turning sharply to look at his wife, he saw what the other man meant. The subtle blush on Elsbeth’s pretty cheekbones visibly contrasted with the paleness of her usually golden complexion.
‘I thank you for caring, but I promise you I am well and would very much like to see Livia’s painting.’
The ambassador caught Amadeo’s eye and murmured with an indulgent eye-roll, ‘Giuseppe thinks our eldest daughter is going to be the next Frida Kahlo.’
As the CEO of Italy’s biggest car manufacturer was heading towards him, Amadeo was forced to stay where he was and not follow his wife.
It disturbed him that he wanted to follow her at all.
Amadeo’s private secretary and head of security kept up the usual flow of chatter on the drive home. Amadeo joined in as he always did but Elsbeth was aware of him glancing across at her face far more than he usually did, and didn’t dare let her smile drop for a second.
Rather than scare herself by imagining his reaction to what she needed to tell him when they reached her quarters, Elsbeth thought longingly of a hot bath and a large glass of port to help ease her cramping stomach.
