by Nina Milne
Silence fell as they busied themselves, and it was only once their plates were laden that Kaitlin applied her mind to conversation. There would be no more awkward silences bridged by growing awareness.
‘Is this the type of holiday you usually have? Or are you more the party-on-a-yacht type of guy?’
‘I’m not big on holidays. I travel plenty with work, so I usually combine a weekend away with business.’
‘So Ethan must have been very persuasive to get you to do this?’
‘He was.’ He stretched his legs out and balanced his plate. ‘What about you? Where do you holiday?’
Kaitlin shrugged. ‘Like you, I’m not a holiday person. The last time I tried to go with friends it turned into a publicity fest and it was ruined for them.’
But in reality that was an excuse—she didn’t enjoy holidays. New places overwhelmed her, and the effort it took to research and find a new routine mostly wasn’t worth it.
‘Is must be hard to be on show all the time.’
‘It’s part of what I do and I’m good at it.’
‘But surely any publicity intrusive enough to stop you going on holiday is too much?’
‘It doesn’t bother me. We never holidayed as children, so holidays have never been part of my life.’ Her parents wouldn’t have known where to begin—Derwent Manor had always been their priority. ‘My parents thought it a waste of money.’
Daniel raised his eyebrows as he spread a wedge of pâté onto a cracker. ‘I didn’t think money was an issue for the Derwents.’
‘That’s what most people think. In reality Derwent Manor absorbs huge amounts of money every year in maintenance alone, Then we had a flood a few years back, and that caused extensive damage, and so it goes on. Most of my school holidays were spent fundraising.’
‘Did you mind?’
‘No.’
The idea of a Derwent family holiday was impossible even to imagine—any attempt and the illusion shimmered and wisped away. The Duke and Duchess had always parented from a distance, and with Kaitlin that distance had been touched with their distaste after the kidnap—as if she were soiled goods. Though they had still shown her way more attention and approval than they had ever given Cora, but on the flipside that had meant their expectations of Lady Kaitlin were correspondingly higher.
Shaking the thoughts off, Kaitlin bit into a piece of quiche and savoured the tart cheddar taste. ‘What about you? What sort of holidays did you go on as a child?’
For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer; his blue eyes were looking past her towards the line of the horizon, as if he could see into the past. Then...
‘Big, noisy, fun ones. We’d take off to the beach for weeks. My stepdad and brother would barbecue up a storm and the rest of us kids would run riot.’
‘How many of you were there?’
‘Me, my brother and sister, and a whole bunch of cousins.’
‘That sounds amazing.’
‘It was a long time ago.’
His voice heavy with bleakness, and what she instinctively knew was a mix of nostalgia and regret, and without even thinking she reached out and touched his arm.
‘But you have the memories. We don’t have any cousins—it’s just the three of us, and Cora, Gabe and I weren’t that close as children—we aren’t a close family. It sounds like you were.’ She hesitated. ‘Maybe you still could be?’
Daniel shook his head. ‘It didn’t work out like that.’ The words were uttered with a finality that indicated the subject was closed. ‘Sounds like you’ve done better—you seem close to Gabe and Cora now.’
‘We’re closer than we used to be.’
He reached for a bottle of water, his gaze curious but without condemnation. ‘You aren’t close to your parents and yet you were happy to marry a man they chose for you?’
Kaitlin knew she should close the conversation down, but sitting out there, with the spring breeze wafting the scent of heather, surrounded by peace, she wanted him to understand. Perhaps she needed to explain it to herself.
‘It’s more complicated than that. I was born to the job of being Lady Kaitlin Derwent and the responsibilities that come with that. When I was little that meant posing for photo shoots in cute outfits or behaving at boring dinner parties.’
‘And now those obligations include marriage to a man of your parents’ choosing? That’s the high jump and the pole vault combined.’
‘Not if I loathed him—I wouldn’t let them force me into marriage then...of course I wouldn’t. But...’
But her parents had always made clear to her that it was her destiny to make a great alliance, to bring glory to the Derwent name. Once she had had other ideas, Deep inside herself she had been sure she was destined for other things, had vowed she would show her parents that she could bring glory to the Derwent name in a different way. Her options had seemed endless—she’d become a famous dancer, a Nobel prize-winning scientist, a brilliant pop singer...
With the kidnap all those aspirations had withered away.
‘But...?’ he prompted.
‘But the idea of a husband like Frederick didn’t seem like such a bad prospect. I would have done my best to be a good princess.’ Placing her plate on the tartan rug, she enumerated the points on her fingers. ‘I know how to garner positive publicity, I would be loyal, always look the part, always say the right thing.’ A surge of confidence bolstered her against the incredulity on Daniel’s face. ‘I would be in a position to do good—I could make significant contributions to causes I believe in.’
‘Stop.’ Daniel raised a hand, the frown on his face now deeper. ‘Everything you have said is about your role as Princess. What about your actual marriage? The nitty-gritty of real life?’
Of course she had considered that. ‘I would do my best to be a good wife. I’d—’
‘You’d pose nicely for the photographs? Look the part and always say the right thing?’
The sarcastic inflexion was harsh enough to make her flinch.
‘Yes. There’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘Everything is wrong with that. You propose to play a part for your whole life. What about the parts that aren’t acted out for the camera?’
Heat burned her cheeks and she focused on the baguette she held, crumbled it into a small mountain. ‘I would do my best in private as well. But I don’t think physical attraction matters.’
Daniel stared at her. ‘Doesn’t matter?’ he echoed, his expression dumbfounded.
‘There is a lot more to marriage than physical attraction.’
‘Granted—but I think it is a fairly vital component.’
‘Physical attraction can be a short-term illusion—marriage is for the long haul.’
‘Exactly. That means the rest of your life.’ His voice was slow now, imbued with urgency. ‘If you are doing this for your parents you shouldn’t. This is your life and you only get one shot. Don’t waste it by living it any other way than the way you want to.’
‘Marriage is what I want. I want security, companionship, and most of all I want children.’
For the first time in this conversation she felt solid ground beneath her—she knew that, however impossible romantic love was for her, her love for her children would be absolute.
‘You don’t have to marry a prince to have children. You could marry someone you love.’
‘I don’t want love. It’s too unpredictable—too unreliable, too intangible.’ Kaitlin wanted to put her trust in the tangible. ‘That’s why the idea of an alliance appeals to me. There would be a mutual contract to fulfil...agreed expectations.’
‘What would you expect from him?’
‘Liking, respect, that he’s a good father to our children. Kindness. It works for me.’
Enough said—
time to move this conversation away from her, before she revealed even more than she already had.
‘What would work for you?’
* * *
Daniel blinked in surprise.
Kaitlin’s eyes narrowed. ‘We’ve discussed my attitude to long-term relationships—now it’s your turn.’
‘That’s simple. Avoid them like the plague and avian flu rolled together. I’m not a “long-term” sort of guy.’
‘Maybe you haven’t met the right woman yet?’
‘I have no intention of ever staying with a woman long enough to discover her eligibility as Ms Right. That’s why I only date women on the lookout for a quick physical fling. A night here, a weekend there...’
A flush touched her face. ‘Like in Barcelona?’
‘Yes. Although I don’t usually pick up strangers in hotel lobbies.’
Though that wasn’t the reason that Barcelona had been different—‘Lynette’ had been a diversion from the stark realisation that his family would not accept his extended olive branch, that there would be no reunion or forgiveness or understanding.
‘My usual dates are women I meet through work, on business trips or through colleagues. All are women I like and respect. But, unlike you, I don’t think that’s enough to warrant marriage. I have no wish to swap my bachelor lifestyle for the proverbial ball and chain. Too claustrophobic.’
A few years back he had tried a relationship, dated without a cut-off point, and it hadn’t worked out. The minute the relationship had veered even slightly towards serious it had felt like the equivalent of a noose round his neck, and every day the rope had got that little bit tighter...the walls had closed in a little bit more...another barrier had gone up. Pick the analogy, but he’d learnt the lesson.
‘There’s always divorce.’
‘Not straightforward. The desire to split might not be mutual, there could be children to consider, alongside a tangle of assets and emotions and mess, and someone will always get hurt.’
No matter what.
His mother had loved his father with all her heart and had been devastated by his death. Her subsequent marriage to his stepdad had been a supposed ‘alliance’, and that had been charged with misery. Lesson learnt. Love, marriage, kids, closeness were all to be avoided—too messy, too painful, too fraught.
‘Better to avoid the whole shebang.’
‘But my way avoids hurt and achieves a partnership that will run on an even keel.’
No doubt that was what his mother had believed.
‘You can’t control emotion. There is a possibility that one or both of you may fall for someone else.’
‘I wouldn’t.’ There was certainty in her voice. ‘I’m not coded that way.’
‘Maybe your husband would.’
‘He wouldn’t. I’d do everything in my power to be the wife he wanted.’
‘It doesn’t always work like that.’
‘I’ll cross that bridge if I get to it.’
‘And tolerate infidelity?’
Kaitlin pressed her lips together. ‘I don’t know. Maybe if it made him happy...maybe if it didn’t hurt me...’
‘You cannot possibly believe that. Infidelity humiliates you in your own right and in the eyes of your children. Regardless of whether you love your partner or not.’
There was a pause and he knew he’d screwed up—Kaitlin made a pastime of reading people—watching their every nuance and inflexion.
‘You know that as fact, don’t you?’ she said.
What the hell? If it showed her the stupidity of her beliefs... ‘Yes, I do. My stepfather cheated on my mother on numerous occasions and she turned a blind eye. But it destroyed her inside.’
It was the price she’d paid to remain inside her gilded cage, to keep her children by her. Her defence had been the fact that as long as she accepted infidelity Antonio Russo would never divorce her. But, oh, how Daniel had loathed it. The taste of bitterness still flavoured his memories. He still felt the twist of frustrated anger at his own helplessness.
Even now his fists clenched involuntarily at the memory. Never would he risk that kind of humiliation—one that would be even worse if you actually loved the other person.
‘I’m sorry. I...’
‘Don’t be. But don’t delude yourself either.’
With a savage gesture he pulled the rucksack towards him.
‘We should move on.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
KAITLIN STARED AT her reflection the following morning and tried to push the memory of that foolish conversation from her mind. Disbelief lingered and mingled with irritation that she had shared way too much.
But now was not the time to reflect on indiscretions she could not change—today she needed to battle panic and sit herself in a kayak, to ensure the teens had a brilliant day and to maximise exposure for the foundation.
She took one last look at her reflection. Walking boots, suitable kayaking clothes, minimal waterproof make-up, hair carefully pulled back in a seemingly causal ponytail. She was good to go.
A knock on the door heralded Daniel, and she forced a smile to her lips.
A smile he paid no heed to. ‘It’s not too late to back out.’
‘No.’
Focusing on keeping her expression neutral, all signs of nerves carefully locked away, she walked alongside him to the car, climbed in and concentrated on deep breathing and meditative thoughts until they arrived at their destination.
Before the ordeal of the water she had to face—and charm—the barrage of press cameramen.
‘Hi, guys. Good to see you all here.’
Friendly smile in place. Tick. Stance relaxed. Tick. Showing no untoward awareness of Daniel. God, she hoped so.
‘I hope my team made it clear that today is about the Caversham Foundation. More than that, it is about the kids who are here to learn a new skill in this beautiful place.’
‘Aw, come on, Kaitlin. Can’t we ask a few questions about you?’
Kaitlin tipped her head to one side as if in consideration, as if she hadn’t anticipated the request. ‘Two personal questions—as long as I have your promise that your coverage will focus on what is most important here. And that’s not me.’
‘Deal.’
‘Then go ahead.’
‘Have you heard from Prince Frederick?’
‘That one is nice and easy. No, I haven’t.’ For a moment disquiet touched her; they had agreed to keep in touch, to co-ordinate publicity. She’d kept her side—had emailed him a schedule of her plans—but there had been no word from the Prince.
‘Are you feeling any regrets?’ came the next question.
‘No. Of course it’s sad when a relationship doesn’t work out, but I feel confident that we made the right decision for us right now.’ Irritation touched her—those words left the whole thing open, and she knew it—it seemed as though she was following her parents’ dictum on automatic. ‘And I am focused on moving on with my life.’
‘Right.’ Daniel stepped in. ‘The two questions are over and now Lady Kaitlin will demonstrate her kayaking skills.’
It would be fine.
As long as she didn’t think about the water. Better to focus on the existence of the tandem kayak—on Daniel’s aura, his reassurance and his strength. Those images crushed the slithering doubt, propelled her forward to the group of teenagers who stood in a suspicious huddle by the waterside.
A couple looked enthused, but the majority looked sullen, despite the efforts of the woman who accompanied them to chivvy them along.
Empathy stirred—memories of being told to pose, to smile, to act like a Lady when inside she had felt shrivelled and unclean after the kidnap.
Maybe these kids didn’t feel like smiling—mayb
e being a recipient of charity didn’t always inspire gratitude. Maybe they felt out of their depth, thrust into doing an activity they didn’t want to do with Lady Kaitlin Derwent—a woman they probably despised as being a stuck-up, upper-class snob.
‘Hey, guys. I’m Kaitlin, and this is only the second time I have kayaked in my life. I have never been an outdoor person—I’m a city girl through and through—and I sympathise if you don’t actually want to be here. I had some serious doubts too, and as Daniel will attest when I kayaked for the first time yesterday I capsized. If you’re lucky it may happen again.’
A few tentative smiles, and even though she was well aware they were more laughing at her than with her it was still a step in the right direction.
‘The good thing, though, was that I was wearing a lifejacket—and whilst I am aware it won’t be winning any fashion awards, I was glad of it. So everyone please buckle up.’
Cue a few groans.
Then one boy who had been glaring at her said, ‘So you don’t kayak and you don’t like the outdoors. Whatcha doing here, then? Come to lord it over us poor little delinquents so you can feel good about yourself?’
‘No.’ Kaitlin stepped forward so she was near enough for him to sense her sincerity but not so close that his space was invaded. ‘I was born into the family I was born into, just like you were born into the family you were born into. That’s the lottery of life. But it doesn’t give me the right to “lord it” over anyone, delinquent or not. Just like your family background, whatever that may be, doesn’t give you the right to be a delinquent. I’m here because, rightly or wrongly, my presence here does get publicity—and I think you deserve a share of that publicity. At the end of the day if you wish to talk directly to the reporters you can. And feel free to give your honest opinion on the day and me.’
Even as she said the words she knew the offer was nuts—a publicity gamble of the most stupid kind. But she didn’t care. It had felt...right. Even if her parents would condemn it as foolish beyond belief.
With one last smile she turned and walked back to Daniel, who was eying her with curiosity and more than a hint of admiration, as well a touch of surprise.