“Something tells me he didn’t plan much in advance, either.” The way Olivia shook her head gave Brooke the impression that the future queen of Sherdana believed strongly in preparation and organization.
“Your secretary mentioned something about me staying until after your wedding,” Brooke said, perching on the edge of the cream brocade chair Olivia gestured her into. “But I think it would be better if I caught a flight to California as soon as possible.”
“I’m sure that could be arranged, but couldn’t you stay for a while and see a little of the country? Gabriel and I have plans to tour some of the vineyards in a couple days and it would be lovely if you and Nic could join us.”
“As nice as that sounds...” Brooke trailed off. Never before had she hesitated to speak her mind, but being blunt with Nic’s sister-in-law seemed the wrong thing to do. “I’m just worried about overstaying my welcome.”
“Nonsense.”
Brooke tried again. “I got the impression from Nic that his mother had arranged quite a few events in the next week or so that he’s expected to attend. I wouldn’t want to distract Nic from what he needs to do.”
Olivia looked surprised. “You know why he came home?”
“He needs to get married so there can be...” It suddenly occurred to Brooke that the woman who was supposed to produce Sherdana’s next generation of heirs but couldn’t was seated across from her.
“It’s okay.” Olivia’s smile was a study in tranquillity. “I’ve made peace with what happened to me. And I consider myself the luckiest woman alive that Gabriel wanted to marry me even though I wasn’t the best choice for the country.”
“I think you’re the perfect princess. Sherdana is damned lucky to have you.” Brooke grimaced at her less than eloquent language. “Sorry. I have a tendency to be blunt even when I’m trying not to.”
“Don’t be sorry. It was a lovely compliment and I like your directness. I can’t wait for you to meet Ariana. She has a knack for speaking her mind, as well.”
“I saw her artwork at the villa. She’s very talented. I’m looking forward to talking with her about it.”
“She’s been vacationing with friends in Monaco for a few days and is expected home late tonight. She’s very excited that you’ve come to visit. When I spoke with her earlier today, she told me she’d met your brother when he and Nic stayed at the villa.”
That was something else Glen had neglected to mention. Brooke intended to have a long chat with her brother when she returned to California.
“And now, I expect you would like to go to your room and get settled. Dinner will be served at seven. If you need anything let a maid know and she can get it for you.”
Brooke gave a shaky laugh. “Like a whole new wardrobe? I’m afraid I packed to visit a Greek island. Casual things.” She imagined showing up to dinner in her tribal print maxi and winced. “I really don’t have anything I could wear to dine in a palace.”
“Oh.” Olivia nodded. “I should have realized that from the little Gabriel told me. It looks like you and I are the same size, I’ll send some things down for you to choose from.”
Unsure whether to be horrified or grateful, Brooke could see protesting was foolish so she thanked Olivia. Then she followed a maid through the palace in a journey from the royal family’s private wing to the rooms set aside for guest use. After five minutes of walking Brooke knew she’d never find her way back to Olivia’s office and hoped someone would be sent to fetch her for dinner. If her presence in the palace was forgotten and she starved to death, how long would it take before her body was discovered? She lost count how many doors they passed before the maid stopped and gestured for Brooke to enter a room.
“Thank you.”
The instant Brooke stepped into the bedroom she’d been given, she fell instantly in love. The wallpaper was a gold-and-white floral design while the curtains and bedding were a pale blue green that made her think of an Ameraucana chicken egg. In addition to a bed and a writing desk, the room held a settee and a small table flanked by chairs against the wall between two enormous windows. The r
oom had enough furniture to comfortably seat the students in her class on Italian Renaissance poetry.
On the bench at the foot of her bed sat her well-worn luggage. To say it looked shabby among the opulent furnishings was an understatement.
“Can I unpack that for you, Dr. Davis?” The maid who’d brought Brooke here had followed her into the room.
“I’ve been traveling for quite a few days already and most of what’s in here is dirty.”
Brooke sensed that she would scandalize the maid by inquiring if there was a laundry machine she could use.
“I’ll sort through everything and have it back to you by evening.”
Brooke dug through the bag and pulled out her toiletries and the notebook she always kept close by to write down the things that popped into her head. Her mother was fond of saying you never knew when inspiration would strike and some of Brooke’s best ideas came when she was in the shower or grabbing a bite to eat.
Once the maid had left, Brooke picked up her cell phone and checked the time in California. At four o’clock in Sherdana it would be 7:00 a.m. in LA. Theresa would be halfway to work. Brooke dialed.
When Theresa answered, Brooke said, “Guess where I am now...”
* * *