Scandal and the Runaway Bride (Heirs to an Empire 1)

“Yes. And you know, despite being ‘the’ Aurora of Aurora, Inc., she spent a lot of time parenting us. Both our parents did. We had a nanny, but we were never made to be out of the way. We were...are...a family.”

“I like your mother. She frightens me, but she’s lovely just the same. She has this aura about her that is so strong and capable.”

“She is,” William agreed. “But she has her weaknesses, too. No,” he corrected, “not weaknesses. Love is not a weakness. She has a wonderful soft side. I think that’s why Stephen felt so pressured to marry. After he broke with Bridget, Maman was devastated. She’d put a lot of hope into that relationship. It’s horrible seeing your very strong and capable mother reduced by grief. It was like she’d lost her husband and then the family hope for the future, too.”

There. He’d brought Stephen back into the conversation. That should help steer his thoughts away from where they shouldn’t be. On Gabi and her smooth skin and gorgeous hair and musical laugh.

Gabi reached for her wine, sat back, took a drink and licked her lips. And Stephen was quickly forgotten.

“I should go do the dishes,” Gabi said, a little reluctantly. “Confession. I love to cook. Hate cleaning up.”

“I’ll help. It’s the least I can do since you fed me.”

They stacked their dishes and made their way to the kitchen again, but when they arrived it was sparkling clean and one of the maids was putting away the copper pots.

“Oh! We were just coming to tidy!”

The maid smiled and replied in French. William said a quick merci and bonne nuit and then put down their dishes and guided Gabi out of the kitchen. “What did she say?” she asked.

“She said it was no trouble and that if we left the dishes she’d put them in the dishwasher.”

“Oh. I’m not used to that.”

“Now you’re free to enjoy the evening.” Which he guessed would be without him, and he knew it should be even as he hoped it would not.

She sighed. “I’ll confess, I’ve had my fill of peace and quiet. I wish I could go and do something.” She turned her gaze up to his. “But I understand why I cannot. I don’t mean to complain. I know I brought this on myself.”

Will thought for a few minutes. So far, their PR strategy had worked perfectly. They’d leaked a few lines about Gabi being ill, recuperating at Chatsworth, and despite gossip to the contrary, they’d set a bogus new tentative date for the wedding. It looked as if there was no trouble in paradise as far as communications from Aurora went. Soon there would be another story with different celebs, and this delicious little tidbit would be mostly forgotten. Taking her back to Chatsworth wasn’t possible; she wasn’t exactly welcome there and he understood why. But if he took her home to Italy next week, he could probably leave her there, safe with her family. And temptation would be firmly out of his way.

Which did nothing about her boredom this evening.

“We could take a walk in the lemon grove,” he suggested, suddenly inspired. “I know I’ve insisted you stay in the garden, but I don’t think anyone suspects you’re here. It’s a gorgeous night. I know it’s not a night on the town, but it’s better than nothing.”

“I’d like that.”

The day’s heat held in the air as they left the château through the garden. The sun was retreating but the moon wasn’t out yet, and the sky was a soft blend of blues and pale pinks announcing the beginning of sunset. A smear of cloud carried the colors across the horizon, and William took a deep breath. There was something so different in the air here, as distinctive as terroir to a grape. It was the combination of earthiness, the proximity to the Mediterranean, the vegetation and, for lack of a better word, the utter Frenchness of it all. Tonight there was nowhere else he’d rather be than walking through the stone gate from the olive-bordered gardens to the orchard beyond, where the leafy trees provided a shadowy canopy as they ambled along.

“Better?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Much. What trees are in here?”

“Oh, lemons, and some oranges, and over in that corner are some nectarines.”

“Was it ever farmed?”

“Maybe? I don’t know for sure. My parents bought this place when I was very little. It hasn’t been in the family that long, you know?” He shrugged. “We have a gardener. He cares for the groves now and picks the fruit.”

“And the lavender?” She stopped and pointed over the hill to the sloping purple fields below. “Do you own those fields as well?”

“No. But we source it for our fragrances. However, that is not my department. I’m trying to learn more about fabrics and fashion these days.”

“Like cashmere.”

“Exactly.”

“In that case, let me help.” She grinned up at him. “You can’t find better than Baresi.”

He paused for a moment, wondering if now was the right time to broach the topic. Gabi could have thrown a tantrum about this week. She could have made things difficult. Instead she’d done everything he’d asked in order to minimize the damage to his family, even knowing that the chance of saving hers was gone.