The Future King's Pregnant Mistress

She mustn't let a casual moment out of time lead her into forgetting what she had just recognised, she warned herself. But then, should she let what she knew to be their separate futures prevent her from enjoying their shared here and now? a different voice coaxed.

At this stage of the game, when you've got so much to deal with, it's only natural that you need someone to bounce ideas off and confide in,' she told him. ‘and...’ She paused, unsure of just how much she dared say without giving herself away completely.

‘And?’ Marco probed as they bounced along the narrow track past a cluster of small houses.

'And I wouldn't want that someone to be anyone else but me’ Emily told him simply.

A young man, tall and gangly and outgrowing his clothes, was standing in the middle of the road in front of Marcos car waving his hands, his face alight with excitement.

Emily looked questioningly at Marco.

‘Tomasso.’ he informed her as he brought the car to a halt. ‘He is the leader of a gang of young Vialli hotheads, and he is also the person I have chosen to be my representative in taking care of the generator and introducing his village to its benefits’

The moment Marco opened the car door and got out, Tomasso bounded up to him exclaiming, ‘Highness, Highness, it is here! The generator, just as you promised. We have built a special place for it. Let me show you...’

An elderly woman appeared from the nearest house, tutting and looking very disapproving as she came over to join them.

‘What is this—where is your respect for our Crown?: she demanded. ‘Highness, forgive my thought-less grandson’ Emily could hear her saying as she curtseyed to Marco.

This was a side of him she had never seen. Emily thought to herself as Marco leaned forward and assisted the elderly woman to her feet, accepting her homage with easy grace, whilst maintaining a very specific formal dignity that Emily could see the elderly woman liked. As more villagers surrounded him he was very much the future king, so much so that Emily’s emotions blocked her throat.

She felt so proud sitting in the car watching him and yet at the same time, so painfully distanced from him. What she was witnessing was making her even more aware of how impossible it would be for them to sustain a long-term relationship. Already she could see the curious and even hostile glances being directed towards her and she guessed when Marco turned to look at the car that he was being asked who she was.

She looked away, her gaze caught by an array of brightly painted and beaded leather purses spilling out of a basket, just outside the door to one of the houses. Her artist's eye could immediately see how with some discreet direction, highly desirable objects could be made by adapting the leather and bead-work to cover boxes. She was constantly on the lookout for such accessories to dress her decorating schemes; they walked out of her shop faster than she could buy them. She made a mental note to ask Marco a bit more about the leatherwork and those who produced it.

It was nearly half an hour before he returned to the car having been pressed into going and viewing the generator in its new home. When he returned he was accompanied by a group of laughing young men whilst Emily noticed the older people of the village held back a little, still eyeing her warily. One of them, a bearded and obviously very old man went up to Marco and said something to him. shaking his head and pointing to the car. Emily saw the way Marcos expression hardened as he listened.

‘What was that old man saying to you?’ she asked him once he was back in the car and they had driven out of the village.

‘Nothing much.’

‘Yes. he was. He was saying something about me wasn't he?: Emily pressed him.

‘He didn't like you taking me there.'

Marco looked at her. Rafael, the elder of the village, was very much his grandfather’s man. He did not approve of the generator and had said so. And then, when he had seen Emily in the car he had berated Marco for—as he had put it—bringing such a woman to Niroli. Where is her shame? Rafael had demanded. She shows her face here as boldly as though she has none. In my days, such a woman would have known her place. It is an insult to us the people of Niroli that you have brought her here he had told Marco fiercely.

Rafael has a reputation as someone with very strong views. He is even older than my grandfather and tends to think of himself as the guardian of the island's morals...’

‘You mean he disapproves of me being here with you.’ Emily guessed.

‘Marco was negotiating a tight bend, and Emily had to wait for him to answer her.