Right. Clara had sent a message an hour ago but he'd gotten distracted. He kissed both of their cheeks and said, “See you tonight.”
Sandi’s gaze stayed on him until he left.
He stood taller thinking he'd won the best woman he’d ever meet. Charles marched with a faster step down the path toward the dower house. However, he slowed when he saw palace security guards outside the door.
They let him inside, but he wasn’t quite sure what was going on.
His gut tightened.
He went to the sitting room where he saw Clara, dressed in her fanciest Parisian tea dress she’d worn to a dinner at Versailles, and the King and Queen of Avce in matching blue and gold. He hurried to Clara’s side, and took her hand. “Clara.” He then bowed to King Leopold and Queen Anna Camilla. “Your Highness. My Queen.”
The king, his birth father, motioned toward the couches and said, “Charles, we were having a very interesting conversation with Miss Clara Belrose.”
Clara didn’t feel tense next to him right now--she seemed at ease. Charles stiffened anyhow and met his father’s gaze. “Clara is the only mother I’ve ever had.”
Queen Anna Camilla served the tea. “She was a hero to a small boy.”
“Hero? No.” Clara accepted the teacup. She set it in front of her and added a sugar cube as she said, “I couldn’t leave a motherless child alone, not when my own grandson, his age, had been murdered. I knew I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t help Charles. And when he told me the nuns had left him, I promised to be his mother.”
His entire body froze. He lowered his head as he sat next to Clara on the couch and folded his hands. For a moment he couldn’t speak but finally he asked, “I thought you mistook me for your grandson.”
She lifted her chin and stopped reaching for her tea. Then like she was a queen herself, she said, “I was in a hurry but I’m not stupid. I did a bit of acting so the conductor didn’t think anything about me bringing you into my cabin, but I saw when the nun let go of your hand. I didn’t approach until she boarded a different train, leaving you alone.”
Something that weighed down on his shoulders lifted off him. “It was on purpose?”
She nodded. “I wanted to help you. And once you asked me for help, I never wanted to let you go. I was happy to be your mother. It was apparent you'd never had one and you became my only son.”
He rubbed her back. “Clara, you’re the only mother I ever wanted.”
She cupped his face like she always did and wiped his eyes that were moist. “No tears. You’re getting married today.”
Queen Anna Camila said, “And we’re so happy you found each other.”
For a few minutes no one said anything and they all drank their tea.
Slowly his mind focused on today. He glanced at the king, his natural father. Charles didn’t budge from Clara’s side but asked, “Why did you leave me in the orphanage?”
King Leopold put his cup down and held his wife’s hand. “I didn’t. Your birth mother decided that against my wishes and I didn’t know. She'd said she found you a family.”
Francesca had been cold to him. He paused, but then lowered his voice to ask, “And you believed her?”
Queen Anna Camilla sat forward. “I believed she liked money. My husband and Francesca were together before we married, when I was his secretary. She'd accepted the break-up money Leo'd sent, and I paid her again the day she showed up in the castle with the paperwork. She had a signed adoption contract she presented.”
Yet no one had ever adopted him. His first memories were of the women who left him to cry. “What?”
The king traced his wife’s hand. “I was torn, Charles, about just adopting you before you were born, but we were afraid of the scandal if others found out who your parents actually were. Francesca took that option off the table when she said she found you a family. All that time I, we, thought you were happy.”
Charles breathed in deeply and then spoke the truest words he knew. “I don’t want to be a prince. I’m happy as I am.”
Queen Anna Camilla said, “We want you, Clara, and Sandi to be part of the royal family.”
Charles snuck another glance at his birth father. If he had a choice between a lady like the queen and his birth mother, he’d… he’d choose Sandi. For once he wasn’t upset at the king.
Clara’s voice was tight as she said, “Highness, with all due respect, I’m from a small village.”
The Queen nodded regally. “For your service, you are now Lady Doblar.”
Clara’s nose wrinkled like she was just offered rotten tomatoes. “Lady Doblar… she… wasn’t a nice lady.”
The king laughed like he agreed entirely. “She died long ago and has no estate as the Duke of Modena inherited the lands as the nearest distant relative. So it’s a title and money only we can offer.”
Clara’s face was bright red and this time it wasn’t acting. Charles stayed close to her half afraid the offer would cause a second stroke as she said, “I wanted to return to Avce to see old friends. You’ve made this more than I ever could have imagined.”
Sandi loved him. He believed Clara when she called him "her son" and he empathized more with the king. Perhaps he'd genetically inherited the king's knack for business, if that was possible.
They finished their tea and Charles placed his cup down for the last time and glanced up. He might not have another opportunity and he had one more thing to say, so he coughed and met the king’s gaze. “Your Highness?”
He nodded. “Yes, Charles. Please call me Leo.”
That would be strange. He grew tense again but asked, “Can I talk to you about the day we met?”
Leo leaned toward him. “Yes, but we don’t have to. It’s your wedding day and we’re all happy to be here with you.”
If he was to be part of their family, he needed to explain. He massaged the back of his neck and said, “My behavior was extreme that day in your throne room. I didn’t want your enemies to know about Clara as a means to bribe or get to me. I humiliated myself and figured I’d never see you again so it didn’t matter.”
The queen patted her husband’s knee. “So you aren’t still pining for the Countess of Golchin?”
Sheena and he would never have fit. They had similar taste in art, but the similarities ended at business. Sandi was more. She had his heart. Charles took a deep breath and said, “Not at all. Sandi’s the only woman I've ever loved.”
She laughed. “Your brother’s wives will be relieved. We all very much enjoyed talking to your Miss Smith yesterday.”
Good. Sandi would like to know she was welcome to the palace. He stood. “Well, I must go and get dressed. I will see you soon, Your Highness, Your Majesty, Lady Dublar.”
Clara rose and hugged him. “Charles…”
“I’m getting married today.” He gently squeezed her hands.
“I’m happy for you," Clara said. "Sandi seems lovely.”
Sandi was more than just lovely. She was the reason he now had a heart full of love for the world.
Chapter 19
Sandi stood inside the corridor waiting for the wedding band to transition to the solo violin part that was her cue.
A local string band played on the patio and she’d walk when she heard the violin. Charles had chosen well.
The bright sun of the afternoon, hundreds of guests in white seats, a white wedding arch overlooking the sea without a cloud in sight… her wedding day was a dream come true.
The bass was the signal for her parents to go. Her time was close and her heart raced. Her mother and father hugged her and her mother walked the aisle, leaving her father to walk with her. Of course they’d never apologize for forcing the match, but it didn’t matter. She was in love, for real.
This was it.
In minutes she’d see Charles again and be his bride.
Her hair and makeup were done and her mermaid dress hugged her body, giving her curves.
The violin strummed the f
amiliar wedding march and Michael, acting as the coordinator, pointed for her and her father to go.
Her body was tight as she stepped onto the blue carpet that led to the white trellis and blossoms of blue and green, her favorite colors.
But then her gaze landed on Charles Esposito. His black tuxedo clung to that amazing body of his and she practically floated on air to greet him.
Today truly was her wedding day.
As they made it to the altar, her father shook hands with Charles like they were already best friends.
Then he placed her hand into Charles’s and a thrill rushed through her.
How could she ever doubt him? She’d been so stupid. Tears threatened to spill onto her makeup, but she clasped his hand tighter and said, “Charles.”
“Lapinette, you’re breathtaking.” He adjusted her veil.
They must be picture-perfect now, not that it mattered. Her parents were in the front row, holding hands, and she was here, marrying a man who was perfect for her, in every way.
He stepped with her toward the altar as she said, “This is like a fairy tale.”
He led her to her place where the priest would bless them. “It’s only that way because we love each other.”
The priest showed everyone the Bible and she squeezed Charles's hand. “I need to hear you tell me one more time.”
He leaned closer and their shoulders brushed, sending another thrill through her when he said, “I love you.”
She pressed her bouquet to her heart. “And I love you too.”
He winked and gave her a quick nod. “Until my dying day you have my heart, my body and my soul.”
And that was Charles. Romantic. Sweet. Charming. And hers. For now and forever. Happily-ever-after was possible.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed Charles and Sandi’s story as much as I did. Charles hit me with surprise and his story wanted to be told, first. So my first Halloween inspired Prince of Avce comes next month, Forbidden Noble and I hope you enjoy Astorre and Clara’s novel.
If you loved Forbidden Crown, you’ll love the billionaire family drama of the House of Morgan, where romance is the only cure that might heal the past. The first book, Secret Crush, is FREE and available where you can see how the House of Morgan all started.
And if you’re looking for a series with some danger and mystery where all the Bentleys must marry women they’ve never met to clear their names in this exciting family drama. The prequel Irresistibly Lost is available for FREE as well!
And to find out about new books, sign up for my newsletter: https://victoriapinder.com
Forbidden Noble Preview
In the space of two weeks, Clara Fortuna had finally turned her luck around and could now live up to her last name. She felt very fortunate to be sitting on the edge of the world where she’d read Hercules had supposedly split mountains, and separated Europe from Africa.
This was far from her usual day-to-day, working odd jobs to pay for her tiny but clean studio apartment in Miami.
She’d done enough of other people’s unwanted tasks that she now knew how to do almost any chore, including change the oil in a car. Today she wasn’t a maid, or a landscaper, or a handywoman. She blinked against a drop of rain as she smelled the sea she’d traveled to see.
Clara was about to indulge in her dream to be a writer, all thanks to Astorre Manfredi, who'd spent the last ten days showing her around Paris, Venice, Florence, and her surprise favorite, Barcelona--until now they were here and she peered down at the straits below. The view of the Rock of Gibraltar was magnificent, even if the weather was cloudy and drizzling.
Across the narrow sea was a whole other continent that began with Morocco.
No book she’d read had prepared her for this splendor and her skin broke out in goosebumps as she remembered her crazy journey that had brought her first to Paris, and now here to the rock of Gibraltar.
A tap on her shoulder snapped her out of her reverie. Astorre, the Duke of Modena, handed her an umbrella so she wouldn't get even more wet, then showed her a box beneath his arm. “Our new phones arrived.”
He’d asked her to wait for him until he'd gathered supplies but she'd been too excited to see the legendary vista, and now Astorre was dry while her brown hair was plastered against her forehead.
Under cover of the umbrella, she accepted the new phone he'd given her. She would never have been able to afford the latest device on her own. He'd synched it with her old number. “Twenty-four messages. Rossie must have called, a lot.”
He glanced across the bay and then at her. “Are you done sightseeing?”
If anyone could play the part of Hercules, Astorre was in the running. He was all muscles, everywhere. His brown eyes had shadowed depths that made her weak at the knees. From the time they'd spent together, she’d already figured out that if she thanked him for something, he’d cringe. Clara took his offered arm and said, “Yes. Let’s get going.”
He lifted his hand with the bags. “I bought a bottle of wine so we can relax if we find a quiet place on our walk.”
Outside was preferable to the plane or earlier cable car ride and honestly she liked the rain. She couldn’t help her smile as she said, “I’m honored, Your Grace.”
His lips thinned. “Clara, we discussed this on the plane.”
“And I meant what I said.” They walked to the Moorish Castle at a quick pace as the rain intensified. Astorre’s voice was grave when he said, “You didn’t have to come. You were enjoying Barcelona.”
“I want to be with you, until the end.” He’d dismissed the trip to Gibraltar as nothing important, but she’d packed her small bag to join him on the train this morning anyway. She hadn’t expected him to argue with her. Maybe it was the rain getting to his mood. Maybe it was his birthday tomorrow.
She couldn’t see much as the fog thickened but once inside the ticket center of the castle she shook out her umbrella. At the entrance, instead of going to the box to pay for entry, the ticket attendant took down one of the red ropes. A private showing? Amazing. Clara needed to soak in all the details of this world and then return to her tiny studio box where she'd live in her mind here, as she wrote it all down.
Astorre talked to the agent in Spanish she hadn’t known he'd spoken at all. He then said to her, “Listen to your voicemails. You might have something more important to do.”
Doubtful. Rossie was her only friend and she’d just gotten married in Paris to a very wonderful man that she'd fallen in love with. Clara had no one else. Rossie probably just wanted to know Clara was fine. She and Astorre had taken off from Rossie's wedding pretty fast. She shrugged. “I’ll do that later. I’m here on a mission to see the world and wine sounds good.”
They didn’t follow the tour and no one questioned his bag. Must be nice to be rich…she had no idea how he could think of giving all this up. They were brought into a medieval stone work room overlooking the seas that was clearly Moorish design, and breathtaking in medieval carving from stone that somehow held pops of bright mosaic color.
No one else was around. Astorre put his bag on a table near a stone glassless window where they could relax without being seen.
This must have been what he'd talked to the ticket agent about.
Too bad her pink sneakers were all muddy and looked a wreck. She didn’t want to glance down but she knew her jeans had also seen better days. Clara took her seat as Astorre said, “The Rock of Gibraltar will still be here, waiting for you on a clear day where we can see it better.”
Okay, so now he was ready to talk about his birthday and losing his fortune without marrying. She was ready to listen. She’d write down her thoughts afterward. She folded her hands on the table. “It’s not going anywhere, I agree. You said you had business here, Your Grace.”
He opened the wine he’d brought and poured it into two glasses as castle employees carted in a selection of fruit and nuts. Astorre's cleft chin gave him a chillingly handsome exterior. He said, “You�
�re not working for me.”
No. This was a vacation from odd jobs. She took the wine and met his gaze without blinking. “I’m here because I want your story.”
In another life maybe she’d be the kind of girl to attract a man like him. But Clara knew who she was and she wasn’t Cinderella out looking for a handsome Duke to marry, though the poor part of the story fit.
Clara sipped the fine red wine with no idea what brand it was--she hadn't bothered to read the label as it was out of her budget. Astorre lifted his eyebrow. “You've never written a story before. How do you know mine is worth all this work?”
She didn't. Maybe at the end of the day, she'd be a horrible storyteller, but for the past almost two weeks she'd been who she wanted to be without worrying about bills or paying for anything. She’d taken Astorre's deal to explain her simple life and how to live cheaply, while he took her on his final luxurious trip around Europe.
Reality would slap her soon, but she put her glass down and said, “Look, you let me tag along. But then on the train from Barcelona, you avoiding talking to me and spent the entire time on your computer.”
His body froze like stone. “Both our phones were lost. I was ensuring we had what we needed when we arrived in Gibraltar.”
Maybe it wasn’t fair to assume he’d have the same way of looking at things, like casual conversation, but he was richer than anyone she’d ever met and soon wouldn’t be. She reached across the table and ignored the spark when their pinkies brushed as she said, “I’m determined to find out why you are letting your estate go.”
He ended the slight touch when he sat back in his chair. “I’m not explaining that.”
She took another sip but noticed he hadn’t touched his wine at all. “I’m good at piecing together clues," she said. "So Astorre Manfredi, Duke of Modena, how old were you when you decided to toss billions, and an estate, away?”
His eyes glowed. “New deal. We trade information, Clara.”
Forbidden Bastard: Opposites Attract Matchmaker Romance (Princes of Avce Book 10) Page 15