by Penny Jordan
Saul had been at pains to reassure her over and over again that the fact that he was stepping into Aldo’s shoes did not and could not in any way alter their relationship, but he was wrong. Very wrong. Because what he had done would destroy it. What Saul had done? Giselle’s body shook with the force of her emotions. This was her punishment for deceiving him—for not telling him the full truth about her past and the dark and dangerous secret that lay there. She had gambled with fate and she had lost. Just as she would now lose Saul.
Grief and despair filled her, seizing her body and her mind. Was it selfish of her to wish that Aldo had not died? To wish that she could turn back the clock—to where? To the day of their marriage, when her great-aunt had asked her if she had told Saul everything and she had replied yes? To before then? To her own childhood? Before that? Did she wish that she herself had never been given life?
Yes, when the price of that life was the burden she was forced to bear—the knowledge of the horror of which she herself might be capable and the fear of passing that horror to her own child, which had made her vow that she must never have a child.
Saul’s insistence that he himself did not want children was because he did not want to inflict on them the childhood he had had, with his parents always absent. He knew how much the cut and thrust of a high-powered business life meant to him, and that it would of necessity take him away from his own children. It had given her the confidence to marry him. Saul had been totally against them having children—then. Now, though, with Saul stepping into Aldo’s shoes, that would have to change. He was going to want an heir—a child that she could not give him. She had no proof of that, she knew, but she couldn’t help fearing that she was right. He had already proved, although he would deny it, that taking up his role as Aldo’s heir meant more to him than she did. So would having an heir.
Their marriage was doomed, and ultimately it would have to end. Ultimately Saul would cast her aside to marry someone else—a woman who could and would provide him with an heir. A woman who could and would give him what she could not.
Ultimately. And ultimately would she be able to stop loving him? Never! Her whole body shook. She loved him so much that she could not envisage stopping loving him—ever. Another intolerable burden for her to have to carry. What was life if all it held was pain and loss? Better not to live at all.
Giselle shivered. Was this how her own mother had felt? Fresh panic swamped her. There was no one she could turn to, no one who could help her. Why had this had to happen? The courtyard and the palace itself now felt like an alien unwelcoming environment—a place where she did not want to be because she could never provide what it represented: continuity, a title, a place in life and a duty to be handed down from generation to generation, father to child, be that child a son or a daughter. History was rich with women who had proved to be strong rulers. A daughter! Another sick shudder savaged her. She needed to escape—from her thoughts and from the palace itself, with all that it represented.
The summer sunshine was warm on Giselle’s back as she emerged from an ancient cobbled narrow alleyway into one of the city’s many squares. This one was surrounded by the historic merchants’ halls of the country’s medieval trade guilds—the Goldsmiths’ Hall, the Tanners’ Hall, and others, including the imposing Guild Hall itself. As an independent country, Arezzio, with its rich farmlands and its mountains with their mineral deposits, had traded profitably during the medieval era, the wealth it had earned enabling its rich citizens to become patrons of painters and sculptors, many of whom had travelled to Florence and other parts of Italy to perfect their skills. Now, though, the country had fallen into decline, with no new industry to help it to flourish.
Signs of that decline and also of decay were evident in the buildings surrounding the square, just as signs of the country’s poverty were evident in its people. Those with the money to do so sent their children abroad to be educated, and those children then made their lives in other countries, so the country’s poverty now also included a poverty of intelligence and aspiration.
Saul had been right when he had said that the work they could do here would be important and worthwhile. But she would not be the woman—the partner, the wife—who would do that work with him. A ruler who needed an heir needed a wife who could and would provide that heir, and whilst Saul had not as yet said anything to her about his need for a child ultimately he would do so. He would have to.
From the square Giselle could see the palace, perched high on its rocky outcrop, guarding the entrance to the fertile valley and farmlands of the country that lay at its back, a symbol of Saul’s family’s role in guarding the people of this country. Democracy could go hand in hand with that kind of tradition with the right man—a man who was gifted and visionary, a man of great courage and even greater honesty. She would have been proud to stand at the side of such a man, but it could not be.
As she made her way back to the palace Giselle knew that, whilst Saul might love her and not want to end their marriage, ultimately he would have to abandon her or his people. She knew too, after listening to him talk about the difficulties that faced the country, hearing the passion and dedication in his voice, that the promise he had given to Aldo would not allow him to choose her. How could their love weigh anything when set in the scales against the needs of so many? It could not.
On her way back she passed the place where before their marriage she had seen a young mother crossing the street and been transported back to her own childhood. That incident had led to her revealing part of the torment of her past to Saul. If she had told him everything would he have still loved and married her? She must be grateful for the love she had had, for the joy they had shared, she told herself. She must hold on to her memories and be sustained by them. She had no other choice. And for now she still had Saul and his love. For now. And now must be what she clung to, to sustain her, now must be the time when she filled her senses and her heart with their love, when she celebrated it with Saul, creating memories for the bleak years that would come.
As she neared the palace she noticed absently the activity in the exclusive and expensive dress shop to which Natasha had once taken her. Its owner was ferrying armfuls of clothes from the shop into a waiting van, leaving the shop rails bare. No doubt without his royal customer the shop owner and his goods were no longer wanted.
Giselle felt vulnerable, and so afraid.
CHAPTER FOUR
SAUL’S MEETING HAD required the employment of a great deal of tact on his part, he acknowledged as he made his way back to his apartments. The old brigade of Aldo’s advisers—elderly men in the main, Saul’s own father’s peers in age and habit—might have welcomed his decision to step into Aldo’s shoes, but Saul was under no illusions. They would believe that they could continue to run the country much as they had done under Aldo, with its ruler being little more than a royal figurehead. Aldo had been too gentle natured to stand up to them and place his own stamp on the country. Not that they had done anything wrong. They were respectable, up-standing men, but their beliefs and habits were rooted firmly in the past, and were not conducive to moving the country forward.
They had all looked aghast, and a couple of them had even looked disapproving, when Saul had talked about bringing high-speed internet access to every part of the country, refusing to believe that it was financially possible to do such a thing, never mind that there was any need for it. Their reluctance had merely whetted Saul’s appetite. He was used to dealing with objections and problems and overcoming them. He would overcome their reluctance. He would give the people of the country—his people—what they needed and deserved.
Right now, though, his chief concern was Giselle. They always worked so closely together, sharing the same mindset in their beliefs and their plans, that he felt the absence of her support as sharply as he might have felt a cold east wind against bare flesh. Her absence from his plans and his hopes for the country hurt. He wanted her to feel as passionately about what
they could achieve as he did himself. He wanted them to be in harmony. He wanted to see her face light up with excitement and enthusiasm when they talked about their plans. And whilst he had been listening to his ministers he had hit upon a plan that he hoped would help her to understand and appreciate how much their skills—theirs, not just his—were needed here. It wouldn’t be emotional blackmail or even worse manipulation of her feelings on something he knew to be important to her, Saul assured himself. It would be something she herself would see at once as being of concern. Something she would agree needed their intervention. Something that they were uniquely placed to deal with via their existing skills and knowledge.
One of the ministers had mentioned a disaster that had recently hit the country, when some mining being undertaken by one of Natasha’s father’s companies had resulted in a landslide swamping the small town that lay in the mine’s shadow. The landslide had also buried the saw mill which had employed most of the townspeople, leaving hundreds of people injured and their homes destroyed. The townspeople were currently living in dreadful poverty. When Saul had asked the minister what was being done to help them, the minister had told him that there was nothing that could be done. There was no money in the treasury to enable them to do anything.
The country had no formal welfare system. Help in such disasters relied on the largesse of the ruler and local help. Aldo had been out of the country when the landslide had occurred, and he had been killed before he could do anything about it.
Saul had made it clear to the ministers that this kind of ad hoc arrangement was not good enough. He had also made it clear that the mining company’s licence was to be cancelled, and had been told by the minister that mining activities had already ceased and the mining company representatives had left the country.
Saul had made arrangements for Giselle and himself to visit the area this afternoon, and he was hoping that the plight of its people would help to melt her resistance to them making their lives here.
He found her on the patio, her lunch barely touched.
‘I’m just not hungry,’ Giselle answered when Saul asked her why she hadn’t eaten. It was the truth after all. Her misery was making her physically sick, and she felt so unwell in the aftermath of that nausea that she simply did not want to eat. The very thought of food was making her stomach churn with the threat of fresh nausea.
‘You should have something, even if it’s only a sandwich,’ Saul told her. ‘We’ve got a busy afternoon ahead of us, with a long drive.’
Giselle shook her head before querying, ‘A long drive? Where to?’
‘There’s something I want you to see,’ Saul answered obliquely. ‘We’ve never been in the country long enough on our previous visits for you to see much of what lies behind the palace and the city.’
‘According to Natasha it’s all countryside populated by peasants,’ Giselle told him wryly.
‘If the people of Arezzio are peasants then that’s because they have never had the opportunity to be anything else.’ Saul defended the population. ‘I intend to change that. When I was talking to the ministers this morning about the need for countrywide high-speed internet access they looked at me so blankly that I wondered if some of them don’t even know what a computer is. I knew they were set in their ways, but I confess that I hadn’t realised quite how nineteenth-century, never mind twentieth-century, some of those ways actually are.’
Saul was smiling as he spoke—trying to jolly her along, Giselle guessed, and her heart ached both with love for him and fear at the thought of the future and what it might hold.
Sooner or later Saul was bound to want to discuss the subject of them producing an heir. He would have to do so, surely? Aldo had always made it plain that producing an heir was very important to anyone who ruled Arezzio. When Saul did the same she would have to tell him the truth about the secret she had kept from him.
Giselle was pleased and relieved when she discovered that they would be on their own in the car which Saul had been provided with, and that he would be driving it.
‘They did want to supply us with a driver, but I know the country from the long holidays I spent here in my teens,’ Saul told her in response to her comment that she was glad they were able to go out without any undue pomp or formality, adding, ‘I’ve already made it clear to the ministers that I have no intention of hiding myself away behind layers of court procedure and protocol. One of the first things I want to set in motion is the establishment of a democratic voting system, so that ultimately the people can elect their own government, with the right to make its own laws. The royal role will be modernised to that of hereditary Head of State.’
‘Democracy and high-speed internet access? You aren’t taking on much, then.’ Giselle couldn’t resist teasing him as they got into the four-wheel-drive vehicle parked waiting for them with the keys in it.
The breadth of his vision and his determination to achieve the goals he set for himself were aspects of Saul’s character that Giselle really admired. Saul didn’t just talk about things needing to be done, he actually got them done. She always felt when she listened to Saul talking about his plans that there was so much she could learn from him—especially about not accepting limitations.
His laughter reminded her of the fun they had always had together, and the way their minds thought alike. It wasn’t just her husband and her lover she was going to lose. It was her best friend and her mentor as well. And as for not accepting limitations… There were some limitations that even Saul could not overcome, Giselle reminded herself bleakly.
Once they were in the car, as though he had picked up on something of her thoughts, Saul turned to her and told her, ‘It’s good to see you smile again. I was beginning to think I’d lost my best friend and the only person who truly understands how I feel about things. I never want to lose that aspect of our relationship, Giselle. In fact I never want to lose anything from our relationship.’
Nor did she—but they were going to lose one another. They would have to. When he heard what she had to say, what she had previously concealed from him, Saul would turn away from her. He would have to now that he had agreed to rule Arezzio. She wasn’t going to think about that now, though, Giselle told herself fiercely. She was going to try to concentrate on the here and now, on being here with Saul, and on him being excited and enthused about his plans.
She had no idea what he wanted to show her and she knew better than to ask. Saul had his own way of working.
Once they were out of the city, and heading south across the agricultural plain of the wide river that flowed ultimately into the Adriatic, Giselle couldn’t help commenting. ‘I’m surprised that more isn’t made of the potential of this land to grow crops that could be sold abroad, given the country’s climate.’
‘I agree. In fact that was something that I had already mentioned to Aldo as a potential means of increasing the country’s financial viability—especially with regard to the potential for export—but he felt that the cost of upgrading machinery and educating landowners was more than the exchequer could bear. It is something we should look into, though. The valley enjoys a fairly temperate climate, and with the kind of modern greenhouses the Dutch are using we could easily become a major player in exporting salad and fruit crops, even flowers. With so many new tourist destinations coming into being in Croatia and Montenegro we’d have an easily accessible market there, for a start.’
As he finished speaking Saul reached for Giselle’s hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it tenderly before saying, ‘You are everything I could ever want in the woman I love and I am truly blessed to have found you, Giselle. I know that right now you are disappointed in me. You feel that I’ve let you down, and I feel that too. Those are my errors and my responsibility, but you, my love, I hope will find the kindness and the magnanimity of spirit to overcome the difficulties I have created for us.’
‘Because you think I love you too much not to, you mean?’ Giselle accused him wryly, adding
before he could answer her. ‘Well, it is true, Saul. I do.’
‘But you are not happy to love me to such an extent?’ he asked.
‘I am not happy to think you would ride roughshod over my views,’ was all Giselle felt able to commit herself to saying.
She simply couldn’t bring herself to tell him that between them, via her deceit and the keeping of a hidden secret, and his denial of a promise he had made her because of his duty to Arezzio, they had both set in motion a situation that would rip apart the love that meant so much to them both.
Hers was the greater blame, though. She had known when she married him that she was keeping something from him that in reality she should have told him. And risk losing his love? Have him turn from her in horror? He hadn’t wanted a child then. The secret she had kept from him had not mattered. But it mattered now.
They had left the valley’s plain behind them now, and were travelling a winding road that circled the steep mountainsides, passing through small villages with stone buildings with exposed timbers, whose inhabitants looked as though they were lost in time. An ancient viaduct straddled two valleys up ahead of them.
‘Roman,’ Saul told her briefly, following her gaze. ‘Aldo and I used to dig around its footings, hoping to find Roman artefacts. There are some in the palace. Maybe we should think about inviting specialists to come and do a dig? Napoleon Bonaparte’s armies marched through here, before him the Romans, and before them, so it’s said, Alexander the Great.’
‘The people look so poor,’ was all Giselle could trust herself to say, as she watched an elderly woman walking through a dusty village alongside a heavily laden donkey.
‘That’s because they are,’ Saul replied. ‘Aldo was acutely conscious of the poverty of the people, but sadly he focused on attempting to improve his own personal finances, so that he could put more money into the exchequer, rather than focusing on finding ways to help the people to help themselves.’