by Cat Schield
“I want to go home,” she told him, making use of the tissue box once again.
“The doctor wants to keep you in here for at least a week.”
“Can’t I be transferred to a hospital in London?”
“You are in no shape to travel.” He patted her hand. “It’s just a week. Then I’ll take you home.”
A week. It was too long. More than her body needed to heal and that wouldn’t be possible until she was miles and miles from Sherdana and its prince.
* * *
Shortly after speaking with Olivia, Gabriel returned to the palace alone, his emotions in turmoil. Staff scattered as he crossed the expansive foyer, heading for his office. The way they disappeared he must have looked like the devil himself had come calling.
It had shocked him that after she’d survived her brush with death, her first act would be to end their engagement. She’d done it gracefully, shouldering the responsibility, leaving him free to move on with a clear conscience.
“Move on.”
He spat out the words like the foulest curse. No matter how angry he’d been when he found out about her medical condition, he’d not really considered ending things. How could he ever replace Olivia in his life after making love with her? Watching her with his daughters? Seeing that damned tattoo. Hope. He could sure use some right now.
Entering his office, he flung himself into a chair near the cold fireplace. He’d been up all night. Exhaustion should be eating into his bones and muscles, but rage burned white-hot in his veins. He massaged his temples where a headache had begun the minute he’d walked out of Olivia’s hospital room. Or perhaps it had been there all along. Up until that moment, he’d been completely focused on Olivia.
But after leaving her bedside, he realized that his role in her life was over. As was her role in his. From now on they would be nothing more than familiar strangers. He would probably not exchange a dozen words with her before she left for England and her old life.
God, his chest ached.
“Your Highness?” Gabriel’s secretary had poked his head in the door.
“Not now, Stewart.”
He needed some time to adjust. How much time, he didn’t know. He’d never imagined having to live without Olivia and he wasn’t going to pretend that he could just shake off this tragedy and continue on.
“Your Highness,” Stewart persisted. “Your father, the king, wants to speak with you.”
“I know my father is the king,” Gabriel said, taking his annoyance out on his private secretary. He pushed out of the chair, deciding to face whatever his father had to say now rather that make the king wait until he’d showered and changed.
He found his father on the phone in his office and went to pour himself a shot of scotch while he waited for him to conclude the call.
“A little early for that, isn’t it?” the king demanded as he hung up.
“I think a man’s entitled to a drink after his fiancée breaks up with him, don’t you?”
The king shot him a hard glance as he rose to his feet and crossed to the tray with the coffeepot and cups. Pouring a cup, he plucked the crystal tumbler from Gabriel’s finger and replaced it with bone china.
“I just got off the phone with Lord Darcy. He told me you and Olivia ended things.”
Ah, so the old man was pulling his offer to set up a company since his daughter was no longer going to be Sherdana’s queen. Gabriel shrugged. He didn’t really blame the earl for changing his mind.
“She ended it,” he said. “But don’t worry. Christian will find us some other prospective investors.” He sipped the coffee and regarded his father over the brim. “Perhaps one of them will even have an eligible daughter since apparently I’m back on the market.”
The king let Gabriel’s bitter comment pass unanswered. “Naturally, I would like to continue pursuing other companies, but the need isn’t urgent. Darcy is going forward with his plans.”
Gabriel’s cup hit the saucer with a clatter. From his contact with Lord Darcy, he knew the man was a hardheaded businessman. Sherdana was a good choice for expansion, but not his only and not necessarily his best.
Olivia.
This was her doing.
The exhaustion he’d expected to feel earlier washed over him now. Gabriel wavered on his feet. “Olivia must have told him to honor the commitment. There’s no other reason for Darcy to proceed.”
“But if she knows you’re not getting married, why would she persuade her father to honor his commitment to us?”
“Because that’s the sort of woman she is,” Gabriel said. “Honorable. The sort who doesn’t go back on a promise. Unlike me,” he finished in an undertone.
This time, his bitterness was too much for his father to ignore. “You are not reneging on a promise to Lady Darcy,” the king said. “She understands she will never be able to give you an heir and has graciously ended your engagement.”
That’s when it hit him. He didn’t want their engagement to end.
Olivia had promised to marry him. And if she was as honorable as he’d just described, she still would.
* * *
After six endless days in the hospital, with pain and grief her constant companions, Olivia was an empty shell in both body and soul. For the majority of her stay she’d lain with her eyes closed, floating on a tide of pain medication that dulled the ache in her lower abdomen but couldn’t blunt the agony in her heart. With her ability to bear children ripped from her, she shrank from her future. Abandoned by optimism, tears filled her eyes and ran unheeded down her cheeks. Her losses were too much to bear.
On the third day of her incarceration, Libby had smuggled in her favorite chocolate. Olivia had put on a show of courage for her private secretary, but left alone once more, she’d retreated to the dark place where she contemplated what her life had become.
Then, this morning, twenty-four hours before she was scheduled for release, she instructed Libby to bring her files so she could compile a list of all the things she’d committed to in the past month.
“Are you sure you should be taxing yourself with this?” Libby protested, a dozen files clutched to her chest.
Olivia indicated that she wanted the files placed on the rolling tray positioned over her bed. “I’ve got to find something to keep my mind busy, or I’ll go completely mad.”
Libby did as she was told and then retreated to the guest chair with her laptop. “Prince Gabriel...” the private secretary began, breaking off when Olivia shook her head.
“How are Bethany and Karina?”
“They miss you.” Libby opened the laptop and stared at the screen. “Everyone at the palace misses you.”
Not wishing to go down that path, Olivia changed the subject. “Have they found Marissa’s sister yet?”
“I’m afraid not.”
The memory of the woman’s attack had resurfaced a couple days after Olivia had woken up. It hadn’t struck her as odd that no one asked about the incident because she’d assumed Marissa’s sister had fled the palace with no one being the wiser.
When she’d shared the story with Libby, Olivia had learned what had happened after she’d passed out in the bathroom. She’d given herself a couple seconds to regret the loss of her wardrobe and then insisted on telling her story to palace security and the police.
“Her apartment in Milan is being watched,” Libby continued, “but she hasn’t returned there. From what I gather, she hasn’t contacted her friends in six months. But I’m sure Prince Gabriel will not be satisfied until she’s caught.”
“I’ll feel better when that happens,” Olivia said, and opened the file sitting on top of the pile. It was a budget proposal for some improvements to a school she sponsored in Kenya.
The mundane work soothed her spirit. Nothing better for the
soul than to worry about someone else’s problems.
Ariana and Christian visited several times in the next few days and brought regards from the king and queen as well as flowers. But Gabriel had been absent. She’d sent him away and asked Libby to make certain he understood that she wanted him to maintain his distance. Her grief was still too strong. She wasn’t ready to face him. Not until she came to terms with the end of her engagement and her empty future.
“Prince Gabriel is desperately worried about you,” Libby said.
As sweet as it was for Libby to say, Olivia doubted her use of the word desperately.
“I hope you’ve told him I’m recovering nicely.”
“He might like to see that for himself.”
Olivia’s throat tightened and she shook her head. The words blurred on the sheet of paper she held in her hand and she blinked to clear her vision.
“He really cares for you. It’s obvious.” Libby sat forward, her eyes bright and intense. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so distraught as when we thought you might die. He commanded the doctor to do whatever it took to save you.”
Joy dispelled Olivia’s gloom for a moment as she let herself warm to Libby’s interpretation of events. “Of course he cares,” she agreed, wishing the situation was as simple as that. “We became...close these last few weeks. But he needs an heir. That’s something I can’t give him.”
“But you love him. Surely that counts for more.” Libby spoke quietly as if afraid of how Olivia would react to her audacity.
Olivia starting drawing circles on the notepad. She did love Gabriel, but he must never know. She didn’t want to burden him with something like that. He already had enough guilt on his shoulders with Marissa. He didn’t need to suffer even more regret because another woman entertained a desperate and impossible love for him.
“I love him, but please do not tell a soul,” she rushed on as Libby’s face lit up. “Prince Gabriel needs to find someone new to marry. I don’t want him thinking of me at all as he goes about courting his future bride.”
The thought of Gabriel with another woman made her heart ache, but she fought the pain.
Libby’s delight became determination. “I really think he needs to know.”
Olivia offered her friend a sad smile. “He can’t. Sherdana deserves a queen who can have children.”
“What about what you deserve?” Libby pushed. “Don’t you deserve to be happy?”
“I will be,” she assured her secretary. “My life isn’t over. I’m just starting a new chapter. Not the one I expected to be starting, but how often do we get exactly what we expect?”
Eleven
Staring at pictures of women he’d rejected six months ago wasn’t stimulating Gabriel’s appetite for lunch.
“What do you think of Reinette du Piney?” his mother asked, sliding an eight-by-ten head shot of a very beautiful brunette across the table toward him.
“She’s pigeon-toed,” he replied, slipping his spoon beneath a carrot and lifting it free of the broth. “What exactly is it I’m eating?”
“Creamy carrot soup with anise. The chef is experimenting again.”
“You really must stop him from inflicting his culinary curiosity on us.”
“Gabriel, you cannot reject du Piney because she’s pigeon-toed.”
He wasn’t. He was rejecting her because the only woman he wanted to marry had made it clear she was going to do the right thing for Sherdana even if he wouldn’t.
In the meantime, his mother had persisted in starting the search for his future wife all over again, despite Gabriel’s refusal to contribute anything positive.
“I’m only thinking of our children,” he countered, setting his spoon down and tossing his napkin over it. “Imagine how they’d be teased at school if they inherited their mother’s unfortunate trait.”
“Your children will not be teased at school because they will be tutored at home the way you and your siblings were.” His mother sifted through the pictures and pulled out another. “What about Amelia? You liked her.”
“She was pleasant enough. But I think her husband would take umbrage with me for poaching his wife.”
“Bother.”
Gabriel might have felt like smiling at his mother’s equivalent of a curse if he wasn’t feeling so damned surly. Olivia had left the hospital a few days ago and was staying at the Royal Caron Hotel until her surgeon cleared her for travel. By bribing the man with an enormous donation toward updating the hospital with digital radiology, Gabriel had succeeded in keeping her in Sherdana longer than necessary. He’d hoped she would let him apologize to her in person, but she adamantly refused to see him.
“Gabriel, are you listening to me?”
“I’m not going to marry any of these women.”
His mother sat back and stared at him, her eyes narrowed and searching. “Have you decided on someone else?”
“Yes. The same person I’ve wanted all along.”
“Olivia.”
“You don’t sound surprised.”
“You take after your father. He’s a romantic devil, too.” Her eyes sparkled at Gabriel’s doubtful expression. “Oh, not that anyone other than me would know it, but he wouldn’t consider divorcing me when I couldn’t get pregnant. Even after I left him and made him think that I’d fallen in love with another man.”
“What?” This was a tale he’d never heard. “You fell in love with someone while you were married to Father?”
His mother laughed gaily. “Of course not. But I certainly convinced your father I did.” A faraway look entered her eyes. “But he chased after me and discovered there was no other man. I finally admitted that the doctor told me I couldn’t get pregnant the old-fashioned way and together we figured out a solution.”
That sounded familiar. Except for the part where a solution was found together.
“I’m surprised,” Gabriel admitted.
“Because your father counseled you to break your engagement with Olivia even before the hysterectomy? You need to understand how difficult those days were for us. The doubt, the worry. It was hard on us. Hard on our marriage. And we were deeply in love.”
Her last words struck a nerve. “And Olivia and I are not.” His mother’s assumption annoyed him more than it should.
Given that he’d only just begun to get acquainted with the woman he had been planning to marry, it made sense that he couldn’t possibly love her.
And if not love, then what emotion was at the root of his miserable existence without Olivia?
“He just wants to spare you.” She reached across the table and laid her hand over his. “We both do.”
Gabriel captured her gaze. “Would you change anything about the decision you made? Knowing the trials and heartbreak you suffered, would you walk away from the man you love and never look back?”
His mother withdrew her hand and sat back. Her expression was determined and sad at the same time. “No.”
“Thank you.”
He stood and circled the table to kiss her cheek. Expecting her to ask what he was up to, she surprised him again by staying silent.
Leaving his mother, he headed upstairs to await Olivia’s arrival. She’d made arrangements through his mother to visit Bethany and Karina and bring them a special birthday present. Gabriel knew it was cheating to use his daughters to secure time with Olivia, but he was feeling a little desperate. If his daughters had taught him anything it was how to exist in the moment. There was no past or future with them. They lived for hugs, treats, mischief and pony rides. Every second in their company reminded him that wonderful things came out of less than ideal situations.
The twins weren’t in the nursery. He’d arranged for them to have a picnic in the garden. In half an hour they would arrive for the
ir nap. He hoped that gave him enough time with Olivia. While he waited, he sat on Bethany’s bed and picked up the photo of Marissa on the girls’ nightstand. A scrapbook had been among the twins’ possessions. Olivia had chosen this particular picture to frame and place between the girls so they would remember their mother.
Marissa was pregnant in the picture. Not full-term, perhaps seven months, yet still huge. Had she known she was carrying twins? He traced her smile with his fingertips. She looked older than he remembered, aged by experience, not years, yet luminescent in motherhood.
Why hadn’t she contacted him when she knew she was pregnant? Had she not wished to burden him? Had she feared his rejection yet again? He couldn’t have married her. Wouldn’t have married her. Even if Sherdana’s laws hadn’t dictated his bride needed to be a citizen of the country or of noble birth for his offspring to be able to inherit the crown, where Gabriel and Marissa had been most compatible was between the sheets, which was where they’d spent half of their time together.
Out of bed, her passionate nature had revealed itself in turbulent emotions and insecurity. He knew the latter had been his fault. He couldn’t offer her a future and she’d deserved better. In the end, he’d let her go and part of him had been relieved.
He’d put Sherdana’s needs before hers. He’d done the same with Olivia. Only this time there was no certainty that he’d made the right decision. No sense that a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. His daughters were the only bright spot in his future. His mother wanted him to consider who would become his princess, but he couldn’t make that decision until he spoke with Olivia and saw for himself what was in her heart.
* * *
Olivia took on the challenge of the palace stairs at a sedate pace, but was uncomfortably short of breath by the time she reached the first landing. Several maids trotted past her, but none of the staff paid her undue attention. Still, she felt like an interloper in the place where she thought she’d spend the rest of her life.