Gabi hesitated—she could hardly tell Lady Amelia that it was all for the camera.
‘I...’
The blonde woman gave a trill of laughter. ‘I do understand that obviously you had to ham it up for the press but I believe you have really fallen.’
The realisation hit her like a rock dropping from the chandelier-adorned ceiling. She did love Cesar. Of course she did—now the thought had entered her mind she knew with absolute blinding certainty that it was true. Oh, she’d told herself she understood the rules but her heart, her body, her very soul had been unable to comply with the orders of her brain.
Because love wasn’t like that.
It couldn’t be forced or coerced to arrive or leave.
Amelia watched her closely, her green eyes full of sympathy. ‘And I can’t let him play you like that,’ she stated. ‘Cesar only broke up with me because his parents told him to, so that he would be free to marry you.’
The words and their import slammed into her. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. Could it? Only it could—her brain was in control now, thinking events through with icy logic.
‘Did he tell you that?’
‘Not in so many words. Cesar is too wily a diplomat for that. He went to Aguilarez for a meeting with his parents and Queen Maria and on his return he broke up with me. Out of the blue.’ Lady Amelia’s voice held sadness now. ‘Next thing I knew I saw the press speculation about you and him. I know I shouldn’t have been surprised; Cesar has always been a man to do his duty, so I understood his decision to sacrifice love.’
‘Love?’ Despite her best intent her voice raised in pitch.
Amelia shrugged. ‘Yes. I think it took him by surprise—at the start of our relationship he was very sure about his short-term plans but as time went on...we fell in love.’ The words twisted in Gabi’s heart, each one a vicious turn of the knife. ‘We were so compatible, had so much fun and he knew I would make a
n excellent diplomat’s wife, so he would have been able to marry me with his parents’ approval. But then he was called on to marry you.’
Every word rang with the possibility of truth, gelled with everything Cesar had told her, bar the reason for his break-up with Lady Amelia. And Cesar could not have told her that truth; to do so would have scuppered all his chances of making an alliance with Gabi. And also Cesar was a good man—he wouldn’t have wanted to hurt her either. But it all made a horrible poisonous sense.
His words echoed in her brain: ‘Love brings its own risks, of loss and grief. It complicates life. If we marry you do not need to fear I will fall in love with anyone.’
Because he already loved Lady Amelia. And who could blame him? She was beautiful, sophisticated and part of his world.
Lady Amelia continued. ‘I just wanted you to know; I also wanted to assure you that I will not pursue Cesar. I will not cause scandal. I intend to get on with my life and I wish him well. I wish you both well. But I couldn’t bear to see you expose yourself to hurt.’
Too late. Pain gripped her, a deep ache, and she wondered if the whole room could hear the crack of her heart. Perhaps, but that was all the evidence they would get. She would wear the royal mask, as Cesar had advised, as he had taught her. She would be a Queen.
Even as her soul shrivelled with the realisation that history was repeating. Her past echoed into her present and her future. She was a duty and a burden again, as she had been to her aunt and uncle.
But right now she had to put her country and her pride first. As for her love, she had to squeeze that, compact it and hide the knowledge away. No one must ever, ever suspect that she truly loved Cesar.
She smiled at Lady Amelia, a smile as friendly and regal as she could manage. ‘I truly appreciate the effort you have gone to, to tell me this, and I am happy to be able to set your mind at rest. Cesar and I understand each other; he has been honest with me and we look forward to a happy and long-lasting union.’
She had no idea whether or not the words even made sense but she was fairly sure they gave nothing away, would hold up to being quoted to the press if it came to it.
The rest of the reception passed in a daze; her head ached as she chattered and laughed and stood with Cesar in a desperate attempt to appear normal. But now her body no longer yearned for the night to come; instead dread and anticipation weighted her tummy. Because come what may she knew she couldn’t sleep with Cesar that night. In truth she didn’t even know what to do for the best.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CESAR HAD WATCHED the conversation between Amelia and Gabi, had known instinctively that something bad had gone down. But there was no way to discover what it was, no way he could risk any speculation or notice by marching over to join the conversation.
Instead he waited until they had finished, then moved towards Gabi.
‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘All OK?’
‘Fine. Why shouldn’t it be?’ Her voice was calm, a smile tipped her lips—she seemed every millimetre the happy bride. Dammit, she’d learn how to don a mask all too well, almost well enough to fool him.
Almost.
Because as the reception progressed through the speeches, through the laughter and banter and cacophony of good wishes that accompanied them, he knew she was faking, sensed she was more brittle, more edgy, more...elusive.