by Douglas, Michelle; Gordon, Lucy; Pembroke, Sophie; Hardy, Kate
Not a ‘Dear Jane’ letter, then. He’d clearly left the note on his pillow and it had fallen off. And they’d had those conversations about Mr Darcy. Was he really going to do that? Or was he doing something crazy and spontaneous, like planning to row her across the lake to watch the sunrise?
She smiled, dressed swiftly and headed out to the lake.
Lorenzo was sitting there on the steps of the boathouse, wearing full Regency dress—including knee-length leather boots. He looked utterly fantastic and her heart did a backflip.
He sketched a salute to her as she neared him, then took off his boots.
She stopped. Was he really going to do what she thought he was about to do?
She watched as he shed his dark jacket, his cravat and finally his silk waistcoat, leaving them on the steps of the boathouse. And then he gave her the most sensual smile ever and dived into the lake, still wearing the cream-coloured breeches and loose white shirt.
‘Oh, my God,’ she said softly. ‘Mr Darcy in the flesh.’
She watched him swim, his arms moving powerfully through the water. And then he emerged from the lake, the white cotton of his shirt plastered to his skin.
It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
‘Did I get it right?’ he asked as she walked over to join him.
‘Oh, yeah, you got it right.’ And how embarrassing was it that her voice had practically dropped an octave, going all husky? ‘And your hair goes slightly curly when it’s wet. I never really noticed that before—and you’ve got those lovely huge dark eyes, just like Colin Firth...’
Lorenzo gave her a pained look. ‘Oh, please. Don’t go all fan-girly on me.’
‘Hey, you ask Lottie—she’ll say the same,’ she protested. ‘Mind you, I’m sure I read somewhere that Jane Austen based Mr Darcy on Byron.’
‘I’m not sure about that. But even so I’m not mad, bad or dangerous to know,’ he said.
She laughed and thought, actually, you are dangerous to know, because I could so easily fall in love with you, and that would be the most stupid thing ever—because I wouldn’t fit into your world and you couldn’t leave yours and join mine. Instead, she said more prosaically, ‘I hope you brought some dry clothes.’
‘Of course. Just as well, actually, because the lake was a bit colder than I thought it was going to be.’ He took her hand and led her into the boating house, then stripped off and towelled himself dry.
‘I’m pretty sure Mr Darcy didn’t have a spare set of clothes nearby,’ she commented, hoping that he couldn’t hear how hard her heart was beating.
‘But I didn’t want to meet you in the garden and make small talk. Or drip water all over the carpets at Edensfield. Besides, Darcy would’ve needed a valet,’ he pointed out.
She grinned. ‘I would offer, but I’ve been told I’m a rubbish valet.’
He gave her a smouldering look. ‘This could be your chance to prove me wrong.’
‘I’d rather sketch you than dress you.’
He groaned. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve got pencils and a sketchpad with you.’
‘No. But I do have this.’ She tapped her head.
‘You’re wired with a hidden camera? Female James Bond, so there’s a microphone in your lipstick and a camera in your contact lenses?’
‘Very funny. You know what I meant.’ Her memory.
And that was what they were doing, wasn’t it? Making the most of their fling and making wonderful memories in their brief time together. Memories that were going a long, long way to wiping out some of the heartache Nigel had caused her.
He kissed her lingeringly. ‘Come on. I need a hot shower. Preferably with you.’
‘If that’s a royal order,’ she said with a grin, ‘then it’s one I’m quite happy to obey.’
‘Good.’
This time, when he undressed her, he just let everything drop to the floor in a crumpled heap—so different from the way he’d hung her velvet dress so neatly over the chair.
She laughed and kissed him. ‘I’m glad you’re losing your neat-freak ways.’
‘You’ve taught me that spontaneous can be good,’ he said.
She loved the fact that he was trying. For her. ‘Planning can be good, too,’ she said. It had definitely taken planning to sort out the picnic and that Mr Darcy moment, and she’d loved every second of them.
‘Indi, you talk too much,’ Lorenzo said, and proceeded to kiss her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘ARE YOU BUSY tomorrow morning?’ Indigo asked Lorenzo on the Friday morning.
He shrugged. ‘I can move things if you want to do something.’
‘Some of my favourite bits of glass in the country aren’t very far from here. I thought I could take you to see them.’
He looked thoughtful. ‘I’d like that. Bruno can drive us.’
‘In your official car?’ She hadn’t really considered it before, but of course Lorenzo probably didn’t drive himself very often. He couldn’t go out without his security team being nearby, so everything he did had to be planned. ‘But if people see a big black car in the car park, they’ll immediately think there’s a celeb in the church and rush in to see who it is. If they see my slightly battered van with “I Moran, Glass Restoration” on the side, they’ll guess we’re there to see the glass, so we won’t be interrupted.’
‘Is there room for my security team to sit in your van?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘There aren’t any seats in the back—it’s where I keep my tools or transport frames.’
‘Much as I’d like to go—and I know your intentions are good,’ he said softly, ‘it wouldn’t be fair on you or on my grandfather to leave here without my security team.’
‘Sorry. I didn’t think it through.’ Whereas Lorenzo was used to having to plan everything with military precision. And how awful it must be for him, she thought, never being able to do things on impulse and always having people watching his back. When did he ever get space just to be?
He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. ‘We could compromise. There’s always a way.’
Was there? She wasn’t so sure.
‘Your van isn’t suitable and neither’s my car. But maybe we can borrow a car from Gus that’s a little more subtle. Bruno can drive us, and he and Sergio will give us space in the church to look around.’
‘I’d like that,’ she said.
‘Good.’ He kissed her lightly. ‘I’ll go and see Gus.’
* * *
‘She’s talked you into doing glass geek stuff with her?’ Gus laughed. ‘Lottie’s going to be most put out at missing coffee and pastries.’
‘I’ll grovel and I’ll promise to bring back some pastries for her,’ Lorenzo said, laughing back.
‘Of course you can borrow a car, idiot. Indi’s right—if you take that huge black monster of yours, everyone’s going to know there’s a celeb about.’
‘I’m not a celeb,’ Lorenzo said, his voice pained.
‘You are, where the papers are concerned.’ Gus paused. ‘This thing between you and Indi—are you sure it’s a good idea?’
Lorenzo felt the colour seep into his face. ‘We know what we’re doing. It’s temporary.’
‘You’ve got the same look on your face as I’m sure there was on mine when I met Maisie,’ Gus pointed out. ‘And I’ve never seen you like this before.’
‘It’s temporary,’ Lorenzo repeated. ‘We’ll both walk away when I go back to Melvante. And we’ll part as friends.’
Gus raised an eyebrow. ‘She’s a lot more vulnerable than she makes out, you know. If you hurt her, Lottie will fillet you.’ He paused. ‘Actually, no, I’ll be first in line to call you out and I’ll fillet you myself.’
‘I’m not going to hurt her.�
�� Lorenzo placed his hand briefly on Gus’s shoulder. ‘Though I’m glad she has someone to look out for her.’
‘She’s had a rough deal where her family’s concerned.’
‘I know. She told me.’
‘She told you?’ Gus looked surprised. ‘Then it’s worse than I thought. She never talks about her family.’
‘I’m not going to hurt her,’ Lorenzo repeated.
‘This is going to end in tears,’ Gus warned, shaking his head.
‘No, it’s not. I’ll make sure of that,’ Lorenzo said.
Though he thought about Gus’s words all afternoon. His best friend had fallen for Maisie and married her within six months. Two years later, they were still deliriously happy.
But the difference was, Gus and Maisie came from the same world. He and Indigo didn’t. Well, they’d both been born to noble fathers, but that was as far as it went. Indigo had escaped from that world as soon as she possibly could, and no way would she ever go back to it. And she loved her job; she wouldn’t be prepared to give that up for what she’d see as life in a goldfish bowl.
He shook himself. He wasn’t in love with Indigo Moran, and she wasn’t in love with him. They weren’t planning a happy-ever-after. They were having fun and enjoying each other’s company—taking a moment out of their usual lives. Gus was just seeing things through the rosy-tinted glasses of a happy marriage and impending fatherhood. Everything was going to be just fine.
* * *
On Saturday morning, Lorenzo breakfasted quickly with Indigo in the kitchen, then met his security team as arranged next to the car Gus was lending them. Bruno tapped the details of the church into the satnav system and drove them through narrow country lanes into a pretty little village. The flint-built church was set high on a mound at the edge of the village and, as Indigo had predicted, when Lorenzo twisted the huge iron ring in the heavy oak door the latch clicked up and allowed him to push the door open and follow her inside.
The church was beautiful; with two storeys of windows, it was full of light.
‘Come and see my centaur. He’s my favourite piece of glass in the world,’ she said, and drew him over to one of the windows.
There was a circle of glass set into the diamond-paned window. The outside of the circle had a thick border of purple glass, and in the middle was a black and white picture highlighted with bright yellow, of a centaur playing a violin with a little dog running round his feet.
‘And then there’s this.’ She turned him round and pointed at an angel.
He smiled. ‘Trust you.’
‘OK, so I have a thing for angels.’ She smiled back. ‘I just love Gabriel’s feathery trousers. Did you know that when they did the medieval Mystery Plays, this is the sort of costume the angels wore?’
Her love for her subject was infectious as well as endearing. He loved her enthusiasm, and the fact that she had the scholarly information to back it up.
Just then, a woman walked in carrying an armful of flowers. She smiled at them. ‘Oh, sorry, don’t mind me. I’m just sorting out the flowers. We have a wedding here this afternoon,’ she confided.
Lorenzo and Indigo exchanged a glance.
Weddings.
For one crazy moment, Lorenzo could imagine standing there in front of the altar, the church filled with roses and crammed with people wanting to share the moment, waiting for Indigo to walk down the aisle towards him.
Oh, help. Maybe Gus had had a point, because Lorenzo had never, ever visualised something like that before. He hadn’t even thought about his future wedding, knowing that it would be more or less an arranged marriage for diplomatic purposes because the needs of his country had to come before his personal desires.
But, now the idea was in his head, he couldn’t shift it: Indigo in a wedding dress and a veil, carrying a simple bouquet, walking down the carpeted aisle towards him.
‘This would be the perfect place to get married,’ Indigo said softly.
Was she thinking it, too? Imagining herself walking down the aisle...towards him?
As they moved away from the woman arranging the flowers, he couldn’t help asking, ‘Is this where you want to get married?’
‘I’m never getting married.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Marriage is just a piece of paper, and it doesn’t stop people lying or cheating.’
The hurt was obvious in her voice. Was she thinking about her parents’ situation, he wondered, or had she been married before and been hurt by someone who’d cheated on her?
Her face twisted. ‘Besides, marriage is an institution and I’m not very good at institutions.’
How he wanted to hold her. Tell her that everything would be OK and he’d never let anything hurt her again.
But it was a promise he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep. Short of keeping Indigo wrapped in cotton wool, he couldn’t guarantee to protect her from everything. And if she was wrapped in cotton wool, she’d lose her freedom. She’d suffocate. Just as his mother had.
How could he turn this round?
‘If you ever did change your mind and get married, I bet it would be in a church with amazing glass,’ he said. ‘And I bet you’d have a really untraditional wedding dress and outrageous shoes.’
She smiled. ‘I’d get my friend Sally to design it for me—the one who made the indigo dress. But I’m not getting married.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And you’ll get married to someone wearing a specially made, hugely elegant and very traditional dress with lots of handmade lace. In a cathedral.’
‘I guess.’ Let it go, he told himself. Let it go. But his mouth had other ideas. ‘You’d like the cathedral in Melvante. It’s very gothic.’
‘Good glass?’
‘You’d be a better judge of that than I would.’ He paused. ‘Come and see for yourself.’
She shook her head, looking sad. ‘We both know that when you go back, we won’t see each other again. So let’s not talk about this. We were talking about cathedrals.’ She smiled. ‘I love the cathedral in Norwich. There’s a Burne-Jones window there and it’s absolutely beautiful. I remember going Christmas shopping with Lottie one year, and we went to the carol service at the cathedral. There was a huge Christmas tree and lots of candles. It was totally magical, with the scent of the tree, the singing of the choir and the glass. We went to a patisserie afterwards, and it was just starting to snow, making it feel even more Christmassy. We had hot chocolate and the nicest coffee cake I’ve ever tasted.’
‘Maybe we could go there now,’ he suggested.
She shook her head. ‘We’re taking enough of a risk visiting a tiny country church. Bruno and Sergio would definitely not be happy with an unscheduled visit to the city.’
‘I guess,’ he said.
She looked at him and thought, there were so many things he couldn’t do. She was so lucky to have her freedom and not be in his world.
She put some money in the church collection box; then they said goodbye to the flower-arranger and headed back outside into the bright sunlight.
‘We need to go to the patisserie on the way back,’ he said.
‘Why?’
‘Because I owe Lottie nice pastries. For coming out here with you in her place,’ he explained.
She looked at Sergio. ‘Are we allowed to visit a patisserie? Or maybe if I go in while His Royal Highness waits here in the car with you and Bruno?’
Lorenzo coughed. ‘My life’s not that restricted.’
Oh, yes, it was, she thought.
‘We can all go to the patisserie, if His Royal Highness wishes,’ Sergio said.
Indigo smiled. ‘So I get to have morning coffee with three handsome men? Cool. That works for me.’ She nudged Lorenzo. ‘And would I be right in thinking that, being royal, you’re like the Queen and you don’t carry money, so this will
be my treat?’
‘No, you would not.’ He looked offended. ‘I can pay for coffee.’
She smiled. ‘I was teasing. And offering. I’d like to buy you a coffee. Especially as you spoiled me with that picnic.’
‘I’ll pay,’ Lorenzo said.
‘You’re not listening. I’m independent, Lorenzo. I’ve paid my own way since I got my first Saturday job at the age of fourteen. And I want to buy you coffee. I’d like to do something nice for you. So just shut up and let me do it, OK?’
* * *
For a moment, Lorenzo wondered if her ex had tried to take away her independence. Was that why she guarded it so very fiercely now?
He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Then thank you. Coffee would be very nice.’
The patisserie was crowded, but nobody seemed to pay much attention to the four newcomers. They were just part of the crowd. How long had it been since he’d managed that? he wondered.
Indigo ordered coffee and pastries for four, and Lorenzo was surprised to discover that the coffee was every bit as good as what he was used to in Melvante, and the pastries were delicate and delicious. And all the time, she chatted easily to Bruno and Sergio. He’d never known them so talkative, ever, even if one of them was training with him or sparring in the gym. Indigo had a gift for drawing people out. She could teach him so much. But what could he offer her, in return?
* * *
Indigo bought a box of treats for Gus, Lottie, Syb and Maisie before they left. And then she noticed a box of home-baked dog treats on the counter, so she bought some for all the dogs, too.
Lorenzo went quiet on the way back to Edensfield, but he held her hand all the way. And Indigo was aware that she was getting way too close to him. If this carried on, she’d get hurt. She really had to keep her heart protected and remember who he was. He could be her Mr Right Now, but not her Prince Happy-Ever-After. Much as she’d like him to be.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LORENZO’S LAST WEEK at Edensfield was idyllic. By day, he worked on official court business; his nights were spent making love with Indigo and sleeping with her wrapped in his arms; and in the spaces between they found time to go for long walks, hand in hand, or he’d play the piano for her, or she’d read to him with his head resting in her lap. Sometimes they watched the sun set over the lake; sometimes they lay on the damp grass and watched the stars. All the sweet, simple things that lovers did.