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It wasn’t enough.
Over the next week, after the press release had been issued, Augustine set about organising everything. He set to it with a purpose, getting his events team to start planning a royal wedding and a celebratory ball, then organising medical care for her pregnancy. He sat down with her to consult about refurbishing the queen’s apartments, then the royal nursery. He contacted designers for her wedding gown, and then other designers for a new wardrobe for her for state occasions. He also put together a schedule for her coronation.
It was clear he was going all out, no expense spared.
He also went all out privately.
She was in his bed every night, which she had no problem with whatsoever, and he insisted on having all their meals together, where he asked a lot of questions about what she wanted for the future and what her opinions were on what seemed like everything under the sun.
Clearly she was his current obsession, and while she basked in his attention after so many years of not having it, there was also an underlying worry she couldn’t quite get rid of.
Because he didn’t talk about himself and whenever she asked, he’d deflect, or say something lightly, or dismiss it entirely. She didn’t know why that was, but she suspected.
Since that day when they’d shared breakfast and he’d told her about his mother and how she’d refused treatment for the cancer that would kill her in order to have him, she’d read what she could about his parents. Because no matter what he’d said about not missing what he’d never known, and not having known his mother, she knew it meant something to him. Why else would he talk about it so casually?
King Piero Solari had been an excellent ruler. An intellectual, he’d believed very firmly in the importance of a good education, had very high standards for both himself and his employees, and worked long hours. He’d put through parliament several measures that had improved his people’s lives, but it was also clear that his people had found him slightly distant and unapproachable. They’d loved his Queen, though, and so had he, judging from the fact that he’d refused to marry again after her death.
A good man, Winifred learned, and one Augustine loved very much. Yet, she couldn’t help wondering how those high standards of his had affected his son, and they must have. Why else would he be so very hard on himself?
She was in Augustine’s office, reading a press release relating to the accident that had killed Piero and injured Augustine so badly, when he suddenly came in, his phone stuck to his ear.
‘Freddie,’ he said peremptorily. ‘Next week for your scan. In the morning, yes?’
A little shock went through her. She’d almost forgotten that was due. ‘Yes, that’s fine.’
‘Yes, perfect,’ Augustine said to his phone before disconnecting the call. Slipping the phone into his pocket, he came over to his desk where she was sitting, and smiled down at her. ‘What have you been doing this afternoon, sweetheart? Something restful I hope.’
The endearment gave her a thrill, which she hid. He looked tired, though. She could see the lines of strain around his eyes, and it made concern tighten inside her. He’d been pushing himself too hard with all this wedding stuff, and she didn’t like it.
She didn’t want to remind him about his father and all the things he wasn’t telling her, not when he was tired like this, so she only shook her head and pushed the laptop closed. ‘Oh, nothing much. Just looking at spreadsheets.’
‘No, you weren’t.’ He was still smiling, but there was an edge to it. ‘I saw the royal crest on your screen.’
‘It’s nothing, Augustine.’ She smiled back. ‘Truly.’
His expression darkened. ‘Don’t placate me. You know I don’t like it.’
There was an edge in his voice now, too.
You’re going to have to push him, even if you don’t want to. Even if he’s tired and you want to protect him. Because if you don’t, what will your marriage look like? He’ll be the one calling all the shots, because if you give him an inch, he’ll take the whole damn country.
It was true, he would. Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about the real question: Whatdidshe want their marriage to look like? It couldn’t be a mere extension of her job, where she did what he said and everything was all about making his life easier.
Because he wouldn’t be her boss anymore. He wouldn’t be her king either. He’d be her husband, her equal, and she wouldn’t be his PA, but his wife.
Perhaps it was time he started seeing her that way.
So, on second thoughts, maybe itwastime to push him. Because if she didn’t the rest of their marriage would be her being his PA except with sex. Oh, he’d said he wanted to take care of her, and she had no issue with that. Except that wasstillhim calling the shots. Especially when he refused her taking care of him.
‘I was trying to find out more about your father,’ she said after a moment.
Augustine raised a brow. ‘Oh? And why, pray?’
‘Because you won’t talk about him.’ She met his gaze steadily. ‘And you won’t talk to me about the car accident. Or your childhood. You keep deflecting or dismissing every question I ask.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s not important.’
‘Itisimportant,’ she disagreed. ‘You know everything about me and my horrible mother, and growing up in that trailer. But I know nothing about you. How is that fair?’
