by Julia James
In England, cocooned in the safe house, it had been hard to appreciate the reality of Ben’s patrimony. Now that they were here, in San Lucenzo itself, it was suddenly all too real. Fear and apprehension gouged at her, and she could feel her muscles tensing.
She was so completely out of place here. It had been bad enough in England, in that country house, but boarding a private San Lucenzan-registered jet, flying in luxury, with the stewardess saying ‘Highness’ to Ben’s uncle every time she opened her mouth, and a uniformed airfield commander greeting them as they deplaned, and now a bodyguard, Gianni, sitting next to a peak-capped chauffeur driving them in the sleek, officiallooking limo with the royal standard on it…It was all telling her that this was a world to which she did not belong.
A world as alien to her as if she’d landed on another planet.
Anxiety and nerves bit through her with merciless pincers.
‘It will be all right. Trust me.’
Prince Rico had spoken in a low voice, but there was a note of consideration…kindness, even…that she was not used to. Perhaps it was simply because she was finally doing what the Ceraldis wanted her to do—bringing Ben out to San Lucenzo to meet his royal relatives.
But it seemed more than that.
And Lizzy knew why.
He’s sorry for me. He’s sorry for me because he knows that I know that the insane idea of a marriage of convenience was just grotesque.
His kindness should have made her feel more embarrassed than ever. And yet, strangely, it seemed to achieve the opposite.
She looked across at him, to where he was patiently answering Ben’s questions. Ben was completely at ease with him now—and Rico with Ben, Lizzy could see. He was warm and affectionate, open and demonstrative with his nephew.
It brought a reassurance to her that she badly needed.
If he’s like that with Ben, it means his parents and his brother will be too. OK, so they happen to be royalty—but what does that matter in the end? They want Ben to love, because they loved his father, and that’s all that matters.
It would be all right—she had to believe that. It would be all right.
And if it wasn’t—well. She took a heavy inhalation of breath as she reminded herself she had committed to nothing in coming out here. Ben, like her, was a British citizen, and she was his legal guardian. Nothing happened to him without her consent.
Her eyes went to Ben’s uncle again.
Besides, he had given her his word.
He, a royal prince, wouldn’t give that lightly or trivially. When he gave it, he would mean it.
Her reassurance deepened.
The windows of the car were tinted, so that although the occupants could see out, no one could see in.
‘They are used to the cars of the royal family on the roads,’ Rico remarked, as the car wound its slow way through the narrow streets of the city towards the royal palace.
‘Does anyone else know we are coming here?’ asked Lizzy.
Rico shook his head.
‘The pavements would be mobbed with paparazzi if they knew,’ he said. ‘So far as the press is concerned, you and Ben are still in England. Eventually there will be an official statement from the palace, confirming both Ben’s existence and yours, and also officially recognising him as Prince Paolo’s son and a member of the royal family. But my father will not be hustled into making any announcements in reaction to the recent stories.’
‘So no one knows we’re here?’ said Lizzy.
‘No, you are quite safe. It will be a completely private visit.’
Her tension eased a fraction.
But not by much. The car was already approaching the wide gates of a palace, driving across its wide-paved concourse. The sugar-white, faux-castellated royal palace looked as if it was made out of children’s candy, Lizzy thought. And the flanking guards were in picturesque antique costume and helmets as they swept past them and into the inner courtyard.
The car drew to a halt in front of a huge double door at the rear of the cobbled courtyard. As it stopped the doors were thrown open and two footmen emerged. One came to open the car door.
Prince Rico got out first, then turned to help lift Ben out and offer his hand to Lizzy. She managed to get out of the car without taking it.
As she straightened, she felt the warmth of the Mediterranean air in her lungs after the air-conditioned car.
Then they were heading indoors, and the cool of marble floors enveloped her as she walked beside Ben, his uncle on his other side, across the wide expanse of an entrance hall.
I’m in a palace, thought Lizzy, and the thought seemed bizarre and unreal.
One of the footmen was processing in front of them, the other bringing up the rear. Ben was still asking Rico questions. Lizzy glanced covertly either side of her, at the ornate walls, with alcoves inset with statuary.
Ahead was a huge flight of stairs, carpeted in royal blue. Prince Rico ascended lithely.
This is his home—he must do this every day of his life.
Her sense of unreality deepened.
So did the sense of oppression that had started to weigh her down.
How could she ever move in this world, even if only on the edges, as the legal mother of the Ruling Prince’s grandson? It was impossible.
Grotesque…
The cruel word pincered at her.
They gained the top of the stairs, and a wide landing that seemed to stretch endlessly in either direction. Off its length sets of double doors marched away.
Everywhere was marble and gilt, and there was the kind of hush that went with a deserted museum.
A man stepped forward, out of a doorway she hadn’t even noticed.
The procession halted, and the man bowed briefly to Prince Rico, dismissing the footmen. The man was wearing a suit, and was clearly not a servant but one of the royal staff.
What were they called? Lizzy found herself wondering. Equerries? Was that it?
The man, who was quite young, and wearing pale spectacles which obscured his eyes, was addressing Prince Rico. His glance had gone briefly to Ben, but not to herself.
What am I? Invisible?
The caustic thought merely made her unease deepen.
Prince Rico was frowning, saying something in a sharp voice in Italian to the man. The man’s expression did not change, remaining impassive. Unreadable.
Prince Rico turned towards Lizzy, shutting out the other man.
‘My father and mother would like to meet Ben on his own for the first time,’ he said to her. ‘Please do not take offence at this. Were you to be there, they would be constrained to be formal, to behave as the protocols dictate. I hope you will understand?’
Fear flared in her eyes. Then, to her astonishment, her hand was taken.
‘It will be all right. You have my word.’
His hands were warm across hers. His eyes, as he looked into hers, were rich with sympathy.
‘Trust me,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Do not be afraid.’
Slowly, very slowly, she nodded. There seemed to be a lump in her throat.
He let go of her hand.
‘You will be shown to your apartments, where you can refresh yourself. I will bring Ben to you. In the meantime, rest and relax. Then, when I’ve brought Ben back, I will show you around.’
He glanced down at Ben.
‘We’re going to meet your grandparents now, Ben, and your other uncle. Your mother is going to have a little rest, and then we’ll go exploring. There’s a lot to see in this palace.’ He bent forward conspiratorially. ‘Even a secret passage.’
Ben’s eyes widened. He slipped his hand into his uncle’s, and Prince Rico started to walk off with him, still talking to him.
Lizzy watched them go.
‘Signorina?’
It was the equerry, or whoever he was.
‘I will show you to your new quarters,’ said the man.
Numbly, Lizzy followed after him.
Ten
sion netted her like a web.
Rico looked about him and frowned. His parents’ private sitting room, which he’d just been ushered into with Ben, was deserted. Yet he’d been told to present Ben immediately. So where was everyone?
‘Rico—finally.’
He turned abruptly. Luca had walked in from one of the antechambers. His brother’s eyes went swiftly from himself to the small figure holding Rico’s hand. For a moment he said nothing, just looked. Then he spoke.
‘Yes—difficult to deny his paternity. Far too much Paolo in him.’ His eyes flicked back to Rico. ‘We were beginning to think you’d never get him here,’ he said. ‘You must be slipping.’ A jibing note entered his voice. ‘For a man who can charm any woman he wants into bed in the blink of an eye, it should have been a piece of cake for you to get the boy’s aunt eating out of your hand.’
‘Cut the sniping, Luca,’ said Rico. His voice was sharper than usual. ‘Where are the parents?’
His brother’s eyebrows rose with a sardonic curve.
‘It’s Grand Council today—you know our father’s never late for those sessions. And as for our fond mama, she always goes back to Andovaria for her fortnight’s spa this time of year—had you forgotten?’
Rico stared. ‘What? Di Finori told me Ben had been summoned immediately.’
‘Well, of course,’ Luca responded impatiently. ‘We’ve had to wait long enough to get him. But—’ his mouth pressed ‘—at least we’ve got him now.’ His voice changed again. ‘So we can all relax finally. Especially you.’ The jibing note was back in his voice. ‘Poor Rico—actually reduced to offering to make the ultimate sacrifice—marriage. And to such a bride. I’ve just checked her out on the security cameras. Dio, if I’d known she was that bad even I might have thought twice before I did that number on you. Still, it did the business—as I knew it would. She must have snapped your hand off the minute you trotted out the marriage-of-convenience fairytale.’
‘You never intended me to go through with it?’ Rico’s voice was edged like a knife.
Luca gave a laugh, abruptly cut off. ‘Thump me one if you want, Rico, but you gave us no choice. I had to be convincing. I had to make sure you believed you were going to have to go through with it.’ His mouth thinned. ‘Why the hell you gave this Lizzy Mitchell your word that you wouldn’t try and take the boy from her is beyond me. That’s not something to lie about. That’s why I didn’t want to put you in a position where you knew you were lying about a marriage of convenience.’
The expression in Rico’s eyes flickered minutely. ‘I gave her my word to get her to trust me,’ he said.
‘Bad move.’ Luca shook his head. ‘You’ll be glad to know I didn’t mention it to our father—it wouldn’t have gone down well. Still, like I said, everything’s worked out finally. And now we can finally get this damn mess sorted.’
His eyes went to Ben, who had a blank, confused look on his face at all the incomprehensible Italian being spoken over his head, then to his brother again. For a moment Rico thought he saw something in Luca’s eyes. Then it was gone. His voice, when he spoke next, was brisk and businesslike.
‘The boy’s personal household has been selected, and they’re waiting to take him now. He’ll have apartments here in the palace to begin with, where security is tighter. Later he’ll be moved out to somewhere more remote—up in the hills, probably, to keep him out of circulation. Boarding school’s a possibility when he’s older, but that’s a few years ahead yet. For the moment it’s just a question of nannies and tutors. And keeping his profile as low as possible, of course. Everything necessary will be done to mitigate the situation and minimise his presence.’ His expression changed again, and he gave a short, angry rasp. ‘Dio, what an ungodly mess! It’s been hell dealing with it here, I can tell you!’
‘I had the feeling,’ Rico said, his eyes narrowing, ‘that the idea of a grandson was welcome.’
Luca laughed shortly without humour.
‘You’ve been reading too much of that trash in the press. Yes, of course that’s the line the hacks took—they would, wouldn’t they? All cloying sentimentality. You don’t seriously imagine that our parents would ever welcome the news that Paolo had disgraced himself—and us all—by going and impregnating some two-cent bimbo and then marrying her?’
Rico gave a shrug. ‘Could be worse—the bimbo could still be alive. As it is, it’s just the frump of an aunt. What happens to her now, by the way?’ His voice was offhand.
‘Secure apartment here, in the south tower—she’s being taken there now—then she’ll be deported as persona non grata to the principality. Once outside the borders she can do what she wants. She won’t get the boy back. Even if the press bankroll any counter-custody claim by her for the publicity, it will take years. While she had the boy and they were still in the UK we were hamstrung—the law was weighted in her favour. But now it’s a different story. We have possession, and that’s what counts. She’s finished. And you, my dear brother—’ Luca clapped him on the back, his slate eyes sparking with his familiar sardonic expression ‘—are finally off-duty. You’re free to celebrate a job well done. Mission accomplished.’
‘Not quite,’ said Rico.
His right hand slipped from Ben’s, fisted, and landed on his brother’s left temple with the full weight of his body behind the blow. Luca crumpled, unconscious, to the floor.
Ben had given a gasp, but Rico just took his hand again and started to hurry towards the door.
‘Change of plan, Ben,’ said Rico.
His voice was tight with fury.
The corridors seemed endless. Like a twisting maze. Numbly, Lizzy followed behind the bespectacled equerry. He said nothing to her, and walked at a pace that was slightly too fast for her. They went up stairs, and along more corridors, and then more stairs, leading upwards.
The décor was getting less palatial with every corridor. Finally he took her through a set of doors and into one more corridor. Lizzy looked about her. This wasn’t just less palatial—this was…unused. It was the only word for it. A faint sheen of dust was on the floor, the skirting boards, and the air had a musty smell to it.
‘Signorina?’
The equerry, or whoever he was, had opened a door and was waiting for her to go in. She hesitated a moment, then, not knowing what else to do, went in. It was more like a room in a budget hotel than a palace, with a plain bed and furniture, and a small and not very clean window that, Lizzy could see, overlooked some kind of delivery area.
Her suitcase was standing on a slightly frayed rug beside the bed.
It was a single bed, she noticed, frowning slightly, and she glanced around towards the door into what she presumed must be Ben’s bedroom. But when she opened it it was only a small, windowless shower room, with no further door leading out of it. She turned.
‘Where is my son’s bedroom?’ she asked. There was sharpness in her voice.
But it was wasted.
The door to the corridor was closing, and as it did she heard a distinct click.
A spurt of alarm went through her, and she hurried to the door, twisting the handle urgently.
It was locked.
The corridor was dingy, clearly disused. Emotion stabbed at Rico, and he suppressed it. There was no time for emotion now. None at all. Methodically he walked along the length of the corridor, testing each handle. Each one yielded to an empty room. They must have been servants’ quarters at some point.
The fifth door refused to yield. He paused a moment, listening. There was no sound. Had she tried to scream? Or would she have realised it was bound to be pointless? No one would hear her here.
Emotion stabbed again, like a hornet stinging him. He suppressed it once more. He felt the strength of the lock with his hand, twisting the handle, then stepped back.
It hurt. In films it never looked as if it did. But the jarring pain in his shoulder as the door cracked was irrelevant.
What was not was the huddled figure on the
bed. She had just launched up into a sitting position, he could tell.
Even from the shattered doorway he could see the look of terror on her face.
And the streaks of tears.
Her face contorted. Contorted into rage. Fury. Incandescent despair.
‘I’ve got Ben—let’s go.’ He spoke urgently. ‘We have no time—come now. Now.’ His eyes bored at her. ‘Trust me.’
He could see the emotion in her face. An emotion that he never, ever wanted to see again on a woman’s face. Then, abruptly, she hurled herself forward.
‘Where is he?’
‘At the end of the corridor, keeping watch. He thinks it’s a game. He’s not upset—he didn’t realise what was happening. Don’t ask questions—we’ve got one chance to get out of here, and that’s all.’
How long would Luca stay out cold? He had no idea. He only knew that precious minutes were ticking by. He seemed to be divided into two people. One of them was raging with fury—the other was deadly calm. It was the latter he kept uppermost.
‘Ben—’ Her cry was almost a scream, but stifled in her throat.
Rico saw the child turn from his position at the end of the corridor.
‘Mummy—come on.’ He beckoned her furiously, his little face alight with excitement.
The palace was labyrinthine, but Rico knew it like the back of his hand. Knew exactly which levels were most likely to be deserted. He walked rapidly, blood pounding, her suitcase in one hand and Ben’s hand in the other. Ben trotted beside him, his mother behind him, both instructed not to talk, not to ask questions. He mustn’t think, mustn’t feel. Just keep moving. Fast, urgent. Undetected. Every corner was a risk—someone, anyone, could be there.
But there was no one. No one right up to the service door to his own apartments. Ungently, he shoved Ben and his mother inside even as he yanked out his mobile phone and punched a number.
Thank God Gianni was there, in position. He’d phoned him the moment he’d left his brother out cold on the floor, to give him instructions. He snapped the phone shut and turned to Ben.
‘Time for the secret passage,’ he said.