Though she’d suspected he wouldn’t show, she’d nonetheless dallied in the hope that he’d make an appearance. But this was for the best, for both of them. A clean break. She’d spent most of the night crying, and she’d probably fall apart again if she saw him.
“Miss Lipscomb?” Ollie’s voice drew her attention. “Did you forget something?” he asked gently.
“No. I have everything I came with.” Except her heart, which would always belong to Andres. Her messenger bag and a few other personal items, however, were taking the flight with her back to Atlanta.
“It was a pleasure getting to know you, ma’am,” Ollie said.
“It was a pleasure getting to know you, too,” she said. “Do you mind if I give you a hug?”
He smiled. “Not at all.”
She hugged him briefly.
“Take care, ma’am.”
“You, too.”
With a tremulous breath, Angela climbed into the back of the vehicle. Gustave closed the door, and within minutes she was on her way to the airport.
Andres checked the time, his attention shifting away from the instructions his grandfather was giving to him, Juan, and one of his aides. Angela had left a few days ago, and he was still numb. He hadn’t called or sent a text. He’d had someone check up on her and knew she was staying at her parents’ house for the time being. At least she wasn’t alone.
He was fairly certain his grandfather had called this “emergency” meeting because he wanted to assess Andres’s frame of mind but didn’t want to be alone with him. They never held Monday meetings, and the topics Felipe covered could easily have been relayed between their personal secretaries. Maybe he was feeling guilty. Andres couldn’t be sure. He’d told his grandfather he let Angela go home, and though he hadn’t expressed any joy, it was clear that he thought Andres had made the right decision.
Agitated, he ran shaky fingers through his hair and refocused on the conversation.
Felipe came to sit behind his desk. “I think we have everything handled. Juan, you will attend the meetings in Australia and represent the family at the wedding in Istanbul.”
“Yes, and when the Italian president comes on vacation, I’ll meet with him and arrange activities for him and his wife to participate in,” Juan added.
He’s so eager to please, Andres thought. Felipe didn’t see Juan as worthy of the throne, but he worked hard, and his heart was in the right place. He loved his country and believed in upholding traditions—traditions that Andres found stifling and outdated.
Felipe looked at him, a hint of worry in his eyes not conveyed when he spoke with his usual authoritative voice. “Andres, you will be responsible for giving out the biannual innovators’ awards, starting next year.”
The awards were the brainchild of Felipe for a program he instituted after taking the throne years ago. Plaques were given out in a number of categories to those who made strides in science, technology, and medicine.
“I will also have you—”
“No.” Andres suddenly felt very tired. Tired of pretending he was happy and tired of pretending he had any interest in this farcical meeting.
The aide, Juan and Felipe stared at him.
“Excuse me?” Felipe said.
He’d had to choose—his heart or the throne, and he’d made the wrong choice. He suddenly knew what he had to do. He had to walk away. He had to give up the throne.
Why hadn’t he thought of that before? His grandfather had chosen him as next in line, but he didn’t have to accept. With his inheritance and the revenue from his private equity firm, he could provide a very comfortable life for himself, Angela, and their future children, all without his princely responsibilities.
His decision would initially create a sensation in the press and an upheaval in the country, so he’d have to wait a while before he and Angela could be together, to protect her from the backlash. But it could be done. It absolutely could be done.
Andres stood, emboldened by his decision, heart racing faster—not with fear, but with excitement. Holding his head high, he said, “I love Angela, Grandfather, and if tradition dictates that I can’t be with the woman I love, then I no longer want to be a part of this life.”
The aide gasped, Juan’s mouth fell open, and Felipe jumped to his feet.
“Absolutely not!” Felipe yelled.
“Your Serene Highness, I hereby renounce my right to the throne of Estoria and abdicate my position to Juan the Viscount of Guzman.”
The aide gasped again and Juan’s mouth fell open even wider.
“Get out!” Felipe kept his eyes on Andres but spoke to the other two men with the point of his finger.
The aide jumped to his feet and exited immediately, but Juan remained seated, clearly stunned as he continued to stare at Andres.
Andres lifted his head defiantly. “With your guidance, Juan can handle my duties. He will also have the National Council to turn to for advice.”
“I asked you to leave,” Felipe seethed through gritted teeth.
Juan scrambled to his feet and rushed out the door.
When they were alone, his grandfather glowered at him with a mixture of disbelief and anger. “Now I know you have clearly lost your mind. You would give up the crown for this woman?”
“Yes.” All he could think about were her eyes—first trusting and believing in him, and then filled with tears as they reflected her anguish. He’d failed her and disappointed himself.
“Think about what you’re doing. This country cannot survive without you.”
“And I cannot survive without her.”
“What about Estoria? How could you cast aside your duty, your love of country, for the love of a woman? I would never do such a thing. That’s not how I raised you.”
“You raised me to think for myself and not to blindly follow anyone’s lead, including yours. You chose duty over love. I choose love over duty. I won’t change my mind, Grandfather. This is the right decision.”
“You know I’m not well. If you don’t take the throne, we risk being annexed back to Portugal. All our assets, everything will belong to another country.”
“Juan can take my place.”
“He is not ready. He does not have your judgment, and I’ve already made the announcement that you will succeed me.”
Felipe trembled with emotion, and for a moment, Andres was torn. He’d started to look forward to leading his country as a prince with modern ideas, bringing the nation into the twenty-first century and slowly eliminating traditions that no longer made sense. Further, he didn’t want to disappoint his grandfather, and he worried about the direction the country would take under Juan’s leadership. But he couldn’t live the rest of his life according to someone else’s terms. He couldn’t allow his child to grow up without him, and he couldn’t spend the rest of his days without the woman he loved.
“We can put off the announcement to a more appropriate time, but my decision is made. Juan is already married, and we have eight months to get him ready.”
“You’re making a terrible mistake,” Felipe said.
Andres smiled. Despite his grandfather’s love, he’d always felt abandoned by both his parents. His father hadn’t wanted him, and his mother hadn’t fought to take him with her. She’d left and started a new life with a new family. He didn’t want his own child to experience those feelings of neglect and abandonment, nor did he want to wake up next to anyone else but Angela Lipscomb.
“No. My mistake was letting her go. I will make sure my affairs are in order so that the transition is smooth for Juan.” He turned on his heel, contemplating what must be done, and thinking about how soon he’d be able to see Angela again.
“If you do this, you not only turn your back on your country, you turn your back on me. There is no coming back, Andres!” Felipe called after him.
The threat didn’t slow his steps out the door. He was ready to do what he hadn’t been able to do before.
Sacrifice for love
.
30
While a cold November rain pelted the windows outside, Angela lay wrapped in a blanket on the sofa watching television with her parents. Martin sat in his recliner, and Tessa at the opposite end of the sofa with Angela’s sock-covered feet in her lap.
She’d been back in the States for a week and had no interest in going back to work for the time being. She hid at her parents’ house, letting them baby her as she recovered from her emotional wounds. Night after night, sleep eluded her, and when she finally did get some rest, a few hours later it was interrupted when she woke up weeping. She’d cried so much she should be dehydrated.
She firmly believed that in walking away she’d done the right thing. The ugly words in those articles twisted like a familiar knife that had regained its sharpness. Yet, there were moments when she wished she could have been stronger and stayed with Andres. If his grandfather had given his approval, she could have stuck it out, knowing they had his support.
She didn’t want to think about what Andres was doing now, but her mind constantly strayed to him. She imagined he’d already resumed the search for a wife. Unlike last time they were apart, she didn’t go online to find out news about him. She was determined to separate her life from his, go cold turkey, until she heard from one of his aides about how he wanted to handle matters like visitation and education for the baby.
Certain he’d want to be present for their child’s birth, she hoped she could keep her emotions in check when he arrived. She placed a hand on her stomach and smiled. She didn’t get to marry a prince, the man she loved, but they’d created a life together, and she could celebrate that, at least.
The doorbell chimed, and her mother glanced at her father. “Were you expecting company?” she asked.
“No. Were you, Angela?” Martin asked.
“No,” she replied.
“Who could possibly be here at this time of night? I’ll see who it is.” Martin stood up with a groan and shuffled out of the room.
Moments later, Angela heard muffled male voices at the front but couldn’t tell what anyone was saying.
“Um, Angela,” her father called. There was an odd sound to his voice. “I need you to come here right now, honey.”
She sat up and frowned at her mother. Tessa shrugged.
Angela stood and dropped the blanket and quickly smoothed her messy hair. She and her mother went down the hall toward the front door. When they entered the foyer, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
Standing right outside the door was Prince Felipe. She’d never seen him in person but recognized him from photos. He looked distinguished with his gray hair and gray goatee, and a dark suit and gloves. Two men in suits stood on either side of him getting pelted by the rain, while one of them held a large black umbrella over the prince’s head.
In addition to the two men, six additional security guards were behind them, more than she’d ever seen Andres travel with. Then there were four dark vehicles parked at the curb—a limo and three SUVs, all with tinted windows.
Her father glanced back at her with a silent question on his face.
Angela walked slowly toward Prince Felipe and managed to find her voice. “Prince Felipe, what are you doing here?”
“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
“Yes, of course. Please, come in.”
She and her father stepped aside and the prince entered, carefully wiping his feet on the mat at the door. His eyes did a quick scan of the interior. For most people, their house, built with the proceeds of a very successful career in the music industry, was grand by any standard. But she couldn’t help but wonder what a prince who was used to living in a palace built hundreds of years ago thought.
The two guards followed him in and stood inside at the closed front door.
“You can use the sitting room,” Tessa said. She pointed to the first room off to the right. “Would you like something to drink? Lemonade or…” Clearly flustered, her hands moved aimlessly.
“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Prince Felipe said with a smile.
Tessa patted her hair nervously, and Martin moved to stand beside her. He took her arm by the elbow. “We’ll leave you two alone to talk.” He shot another curious glance at Angela and then shuffled his wife down the hallway.
In the sitting room, Prince Felipe sat in an armchair, and Angela sat on the edge of the loveseat facing him. Having him show up unexpectedly to her parents’ house on a Friday night not only made her nervous but made her wonder why he’d made the trip. For a split second she wondered if something had happened to Andres but scolded her inner negative voice and waited for him to explain his visit.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I am here,” he said. His voice was deep, cultured, and accented like Andres’s.
“Yes, I am.”
“Has Andres told you about my…medical situation?”
“Yes, he has. He explained that’s why he had to ascend to the throne next year,” Angela said carefully.
“That is correct. We haven’t made my diagnosis public yet, but behind the scenes we are making ready for when I can no longer rule. Part of that preparation involved installing my successor sooner rather than later. My son should have succeeded me, but because he is not able to rule, I have the right to choose my own successor, and I chose Andres. I believe he would have gladly accepted his new role if not for you.”
Angela bristled, uncertain of the direction the conversation was about to take.
“My grandson is very much in love with you. In fact, I’ve never seen him like this.” He paused. “Have you heard from him since you left?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Well, what I’m about to say may surprise you. It certainly did me. Because of his love for you, Andres has refused to ascend to the throne.”
“Wh-what?”
“He will walk away from everything he knows, his destiny, from me. I’ve spent the last few days trying to convince him otherwise, but he won’t be moved, and time is of the essence.” He lapsed into the story of how Andres announced his decision to abdicate.
“I can’t believe he would do that,” Angela said when he finished.
“He has. Now I have a question for you. Do you love my grandson?”
“With all my heart,” Angela said without hesitation.
“Then come back to Estoria and marry him. I will give my blessing, which should take care of much of the opposition you encountered when you first arrived. There is also something about a royal wedding that recharges the people and makes them optimistic about the future.”
Angela hesitated. “I-I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You said you love my grandson, is that correct?”
“Yes, I do,” she assured him.
His face hardened as he looked at her, and his body angled toward hers. “Then come back with me. If you return, I know Andres will accept his role. Your decision will alter the course of history. The fate of an entire nation rests on your shoulders. If you don’t marry him, he’ll walk away from us—his family, his country, his destiny. I am asking not as a prince, but as a man who knows what my grandson is capable of. I know he is the right person for the throne. If I give my blessing, will you return? And will you convince him to stay?”
31
Angela figured one day she’d be back on Estorian soil—one day, but not so soon. Yet here she was, having taken a transatlantic flight with Prince Felipe on the Royal Plane of Estoria.
After her conversation with him, she had asked for twenty-four hours because she was nervous and didn’t want to make a hasty decision based on emotion. She loved Andres and knew he loved her, but if she was going to have a life with him, she wanted to be sure that she was emotionally ready to do so. After a lengthy conversation with her parents, she made her decision and slept on it. The next morning she called Prince Felipe at his hotel and agreed to travel back to Estoria with him.
This time, she was better prepared for the trip. Sh
e packed her clothes and other necessities and hugged her parents goodbye with tear-filled eyes.
She convinced Prince Felipe not to call ahead and let Andres know she was coming. By the time their motorcade arrived in the private parking lot at the back of the Royal Palace of Estoria, night had fallen.
One of the servants took her luggage to The Cream Room where she had stayed before, and then she made her way to Andres’s bedroom. Instead of knocking, she eased open the door and quietly walked in. Lamps cast light in the room, which was decorated in a contemporary pallet of slate gray, white, and cream. The bed she’d slept in with him a couple of times looked large enough to accommodate ten people. The first time she saw it, she’d teased him about having orgies there, which he’d vehemently denied.
She heard the shower and smiled, thinking she should surprise him in the bathroom. This scenario reminded her of another time when he showed up unexpectedly at her house and waited for her to come out of the bathroom. She decided to do the same.
She removed her shoes and climbed onto the bed to wait. She didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, Andres exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his lean waist, his firm muscular chest exposed, and his hair damp with water.
His beauty and presence took her breath away. God she loved this man! To think she’d given him up.
He paused and did a double take. He stared, frowned, then ran a hand down his face as if he thought he had imagined her.
“I’m not a figment of your imagination. I’m really here,” Angela said.
Unable to wait any longer, she slid from the bed and rushed over to him. He pulled her up into his arms, lifting her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around his waist and hugged him tight.
He continued to stare at her, his expression halfway between surprise and wonderment. “What are you doing here? How did you…?”
“Your grandfather. He came to see me in Atlanta and told me what you did. I can’t believe you would give up all of this for me.” She kissed him and kissed him again. She’d missed his mouth, his skin, his smell.
Princess of Estoria (Royal Brides Book 2) Page 17