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Playing the Royal Game

Page 8

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‘It’s a duty marriage. Anna has been chosen for she will one day make a most suitable queen. It is not about love,’ he explained, but her lips were pursed. ‘You don’t approve?’

‘No.’ It had been her champagne, he’d chosen to join her—she had every right to be honest, every right to give her opinion if he chose to sit here. ‘I don’t see the point in getting married if that’s how you feel.’ She was speaking from the heart—Allegra actually had very firm views on this. She adored her parents, but their rather unique interpretations of marriage vows had had her crying herself to sleep so many times growing up that, on this, she would not stay silent.

‘Our ways are different. I am not saying that I will...’ He never discussed such things, his family never discussed such things, but there were unspoken rules and his betrothed understood them. ‘I don’t expect you to understand. I am just talking, not asking for a solution.’

He watched as the pout was replaced by a very reluctant smile. ‘Touché,’ she said, and after a brief hesitation she nodded, perhaps ready to listen without judging now.

‘Our family is very much in the spotlight.’

‘Believe me, that part I do understand. I know all about families and spotlights,’ Allegra grumbled. And she told him—well, a little, but far more than she usually told another person. After all, if he was a prince then he had far more to lose from indiscretions than she. It actually wasn’t down to half a bottle of champagne or a handful of nuts and wasabi peas; it was simply the company, sitting in their little alcove, huddled together and putting the world to rights. It was a tiny pause before they headed back out there.


‘My family loves the drama. My sister Izzy was on a talent show....’ He had not a clue what she meant. ‘To find a pop star.’

Alex shook his head; he rarely watched television and if he did it was only to see the news. ‘Why would that impact on you?’

‘It’s not just Izzy. My dad used to play football in the Premiere League,’ she explained. ‘He’s like royalty here—except...’ She hesitated then looked into his eyes, saw his brief nod and knew she could go on. ‘It’s just one scandal after another. Last year there was an unauthorised biography published about him.’ He watched the colour swoosh up her cheeks. ‘It was terrible....’

‘Inaccurate?’


‘Yes,’ she attempted then shook her head. ‘No—it was pretty much all true, but you know how things can be twisted.’

‘Is that why you didn’t want to report your boss?’

He was way too perceptive, Allegra thought.

He was also right.

‘They’ve had a field day with the Jacksons recently.’ She told him about the scandals, about her mother, Julie, and the affair that her father had had with Lucinda, that he was now married to Chantelle, but still friendly with Julie. She talked about Angel, who was Chantelle’s daughter, and Izzy, who belonged to both Bobby and Chantelle. Allegra even had to get out a beer mat at one point and draw a little family tree. ‘The book made it all sound so grubby.’ She looked down at the beer mat, saw that perhaps it was. ‘It really hurt my dad—oh, he said it didn’t, did his usual “any publicity is good publicity” spiel, but I know it upset him. I’m trying to put it right.’

‘How?’

‘I want to write an authorised one—I’ve started it actually. I’ve got loads of memories, hundreds, if not thousands, of pictures.’ He saw the flare of something he recognised in her eyes—that mixture of focus and passion that met him in the mirror each morning, the commitment that meant it was killing him to walk away from his work. ‘I want to set the record straight.’

‘Well, you’ve worked in publishing so you’ve got the right contacts,’ Alex said. ‘Write it.’

She laughed, as if it were that easy. ‘You’ve no idea how much work—’

‘You don’t have a job!’ He smiled but she shook her head; he simply didn’t get it—and why would he? It hurt too much to sit and talk about impossible dreams, so instead she asked about him.


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