Sins

‘I take it you mean the late duke?’

‘He would never have married my mother if…if she had done what you are trying to say.’

‘My dear, it was because she had done what I said and because he hoped there would be a child–a son–as a result that he did marry her. You see, the man you refer to as your father was incapable of fathering a child on any woman.’ She gave a small shrug. ‘There are such men whose preference is for their own sex, and the late duke’s inclinations in that regard were, I understand, well known in certain quarters. In fact, his relationship with a certain young German was considered important enough by Winston Churchill for him to have the late duke virtually put under house arrest. That was after he and your mother had been holidaying on the Côte d’Azur where you yourself were conceived.

‘Since you are now acquainted with the facts, I am sure you will understand how impossible it is that you continue as my son’s wife. Fortunately, since our principality is Catholic and you are not a Catholic, the matter of annulling the marriage will be simple enough.’

Emerald managed to pull her attention out of the maelstrom of shocked and angry thoughts seething inside her head for long enough to recognise the danger of the princess’s words.

‘There is no question of our marriage being annulled.’

‘No question indeed. On that we are agreed. My son cannot remain married to you.’

‘Alessandro loves me.’

Alessandro’s mother laughed, the first time Emerald had heard her do so, the silvery iciness of the sound chilling her own hot and turbulent emotions.

‘Yes, of course he does, but Alessandro has loved many things in his life, with equal passion, only to forget them as he has outgrown them: his toy soldiers, his first pony…He will grieve for you for a while, but naturally I shall ensure that he has plenty of pretty girls around him to distract him and eventually he will marry the daughter of a fellow ruler, someone who understands what her duty to him and to our country is.

‘Now, to the practicalities…’

‘I am not going to let you do this. We are married.’

‘Are you? You gave what in effect was a false name–a name that does not by rights belong to you since you are not the daughter of the late duke. You are a harlot, not a royal bride, you are not of our religion and you are not in possession of my son. I, on the other hand, am in possession of evidence that, if I chose to make it public, would ruin you and your mother for ever. You would lose your title and no doubt with it your inheritance. There would be no proposals or offers of future marriages. Propositions would be all that you could look forward to.

‘I am being charitable, Emerald. I am prepared to keep your mother’s secret and in doing so allow you to keep the title to which you have no right, and your inherited fortune, in return for your agreement to an annulment of your marriage to my son. If, however, you refuse to give your agreement, then you can look forward to what I have just outlined to you.’

‘You must think me a fool. I don’t believe this concoction of lies you have told me. Anyone can produce forged documents, statements…anyone can tell lies.’

The dowager smiled at her. ‘Why don’t you tell your mother what I have told you, Emerald, and ask her to tell you the truth? I will be generous to you,’ she said, getting up and moving towards the door. ‘I shall give you the weekend but if I have not heard from you by Monday lunchtime then I’m afraid on Tuesday morning the papers will be carrying an exposé of your mother’s secret. Fascinating reading, I’d say. Then your marriage to my son will be annulled, anyway. The Prince of Lauranto does not take as his wife the bastard daughter of a millowner and a French artist.’

Emerald returned to Eaton Square to find she had the house to herself, apart from the staff. Her godmother had taken Lydia and Gwendolyn to Gwendolyn’s parents for a short visit, and Emerald had no idea where the sheep shearer was and cared even less.

How unthinkable it was that they should all get to hear of Alessandro’s mother’s ridiculous accusations. Unthinkable and unbearable, just like the accusations themselves. They couldn’t, they must not be true. And yet deep down was a doubt, a fear, an anger that maybe they were.

Emerald looked towards the telephone. She needed to speak with her mother, but not over the telephone, with heaven alone knew who listening in to their conversation.

There was no choice. She would have to go to Denham.

Chapter Twenty-Four

It was late in the evening when Emerald’s train finally pulled in to Macclesfield station. Fortunately a lone taxi driver was still in place at the rank.

‘Denham, and hurry,’ she told him as she stepped into the car. She didn’t want to arrive to find that the house was locked up and everyone had gone to bed.

‘Well, Your Ladyship, I mean Your Highness,’ the housekeeper greeted her when she opened the door to Emerald’s impatient knock.

‘I want to see my mother–where is she?’ Emerald demanded, her expression hardening as the door to the sitting room opened and her mother came into the hall.

‘Emerald!’ Amber exclaimed. ‘What on earth…? Is everything all right?’

‘There’s something I want to know. In private,’ Emerald added, looking pointedly at Mrs Clements.

‘What about the cocoa? Shall I make an extra cup for Her Highness?’ the housekeeper asked Amber, ignoring Emerald.

‘No, that’s all right, thank you, Mrs Clements,’ Amber smiled. ‘I’ll see to that. You go on up to bed.

‘Now, Emerald,’ Amber said quietly as soon as the housekeeper had gone upstairs, ‘come with me to the kitchen, and you can tell me what it is you’ve come here for whilst I’m making the cocoa.’