‘Maybe part of me thought if I was bad enough I could scare Simone and Bella away and then it would be just Dad and me and I’d get some part of my life back. Part of me just wanted them to hurt like I did. And I just wanted them to see me, to really see me, to acknowledge how I felt, to tell me it was okay. I wanted more from them than they could give, I think. It was like we spoke different languages and they just couldn’t understand what I was begging for. I wish my father hadn’t had an affair, I wish he had tried harder to see me after he left. I wish he’d shown me he wanted me and loved me. But in the end I was the one who walked out and I’m the one who stayed away. It was the only way I could protect myself. But when I look back I feel sorrow for how sad and lonely I was, but also shame for some of the things I said and did, and guilt for how much I tried to destroy his happiness. That’s why, when Simone asked me to do the ball, I agreed. It was a chance to say I was sorry. A chance to show him who I am now, what I do. Maybe it still won’t be enough, but I couldn’t go on hiding away. I had to try.’
‘But why didn’t you tell me who you were?’
She tried for a smile. ‘So many reasons. I couldn’t work out if asking me to do the ball was Simone’s way of keeping me in my place or an olive branch. I didn’t know if Dad would know I was involved, if I wanted him to know. All the publicity says that Dad has one daughter—and they don’t mean me. It’s so humiliating. Plus there were the rumours about Bella and you... It just seemed safer to stay anonymous. But I was going to tell you last night, until circumstances overcame us.’
‘Right.’ It wasn’t often Laurent was at a loss but right now he didn’t know what to say or to think. Emilia had been the most real thing to happen to him, but it looked like he didn’t know her at all. He hadn’t even known her name. Plus the already awkward situation with the Claytons had just taken on a whole new dimension. How was he going to explain to them why a member of their family had been plastered all over the tabloids, why their family was now in the gossip columns? He wouldn’t blame them for taking their investment and walking straight out.
‘There’s a car outside to take you back to the castle. I’m afraid there’s a lot of press around so it’s not safe to use the bike. You go—there’s something I have to sort out here.’
‘Okay.’ Emilia got to her feet, making no move to touch him as she left, as if the passionate kiss they had shared had never happened. ‘I’m so sorry. I know I’ve ruined everything again, but I’ll try and put it right. Goodbye, Laurent.’
Laurent watched her go, wanting to call her back, to tell her he didn’t care who she was and what she had done. But he couldn’t find the words, his mind still taken up with wondering how to unravel the mess he had somehow created, the deal to save his country looking more and more unlikely. He had to put Armaria first. His own heart would have to wait.
CHAPTER NINE
‘YOUR HIGHNESS.’ SIMONE CLAYTON swept into an elegant low curtsey, her daughter following suit, and with a laugh Laurent hoped didn’t sound too forced he bade them rise.
‘You are my honoured guests,’ he told them as he led them from the helipad to the front of the castle with its imposing entrance. ‘No formalities necessary. How was your journey? Let’s get you settled; I believe your suite is ready. I hope Miss Clayton doesn’t mind sharing a suite with her parents? You have your own bedroom and bathroom, of course. But we have so many people coming to the Midsummer Ball the castle is actually almost full.’
‘Of course that will be fine,’ Bella Clayton assured him, her smile seeming genuine if her gaze a little curious. She didn’t seem at all put-out, to Laurent’s relief. Her mother was cool, but then she usually was, and he recalled Emilia’s words; she didn’t show much emotion at all. Bella laughed. ‘As long as the stable is expecting me and I get a chance to see the famous Armarian Spaniels then I am completely happy.’
‘A suitable mare has been selected for you and the daughter of one of my aides has offered to show you some of the best rides around here. As for dogs, my own dog Pomme has recently fathered a litter. I’m looking forward to introducing you to the puppies and to the proud father, of course.’
‘That sounds awesome; thank you so much.’ Bella paused and touched his arm, her expression serious. ‘I just want you to know I got my own costume. There’s been so much silly stuff on all those gossip sites, and it just seemed best. I didn’t want to fuel any more crazy talk by matching with you. I hope that doesn’t put you out?’
‘No, not at all. Very sensible.’
‘Good.’ She looked relieved. ‘Where is Emilia? I thought she’d be here? I wanted to chat about my new costume; she’s good at things like that. The ones she found for us were great, so I wanted her input on this one.’
‘I believe she’s in her office; it’s where she seems to be all the time. There’s a lot to do.’ Laurent was very aware of Mike and Simone Clayton’s heavy stares at the mention of Emilia’s name. A difficult conversation needed to be had—and soon. ‘My mother is very much looking forward to meeting you,’ he said, falling in next to Simone and escorting her up the grand stone steps at the front of the castle. ‘She’s arranged some excursions around the country—the joy of being so small is that everywhere can be reached in a day. I do hope you enjoy them.’ If Simone Clayton realised what a huge honour having the dowager Archduchess as a tour guide was she didn’t betray it by so much as the flicker of an eyelid. Laurent could see how her froideur must have been difficult for a hurting, lonely child to cope with.
He was still unsure how he felt about Emilia’s revelations. Of course he had kept his identity from her at the beginning—who knew how long he might have continued to lie if the Contessa hadn’t unwittingly outed him? He could hardly occupy the moral high ground. And he understood the awkwardness of the situation, why she would want to avoid speculation if people had realised who she was. But not to tell him? To sleep with him whilst keeping something so important concealed?
But, as she had said, she had meant to tell him that night, but instead it had swept them both away. It was unfair for him to blame her for that. Things had escalated so very quickly...escalated and then stopped and he hadn’t seen her since. She hadn’t appeared in the garden over the last couple of evenings and he hadn’t wanted to fuel speculation by visiting her in her office.
But although he had hoped she would come to talk to him, even if it was for the last time, he hadn’t been surprised when she didn’t appear. He’d had the feeling she was saying goodbye before the revelation about her identity.
So here he was with her family and yet without her. It seemed wrong, but for the Claytons it had been this way for a decade. Emilia obviously believed she was as much to blame for the family estrangement as her father and his wife, and in some ways that seemed the worst thing of all. How could she think that a child had equal responsibility, no matter how badly behaved she had been? Laurent knew many people who had lost their way mid-teens, only to grow into fine adults. They had had firm, loving families to help steer them though. Emilia herself had grown into a responsible, hardworking, intelligent young woman, but that lack of stability had left deep scars.
That was all Emilia needed. Stability and unconditional love. And, much as Laurent longed to rush to her and promise her his heart, he held back. He had to fix the relationship with Clay Industries for his country’s sake. Armaria came first; he knew it, Emilia knew it. And if that was the case then was he the right person to fix Emilia’s bruised heart after all? Or should he step away and free her for someone who had no other ties? Who would always put her first. Would that be the right thing to do? It would be catastrophic if he got it wrong, let her down. Dishonourable.
For the first time in his life his head said one thing, his heart another. Maybe if he just saw her then things would fall into place.
They reached the top of the steps and the guards who stood on either side of the main doors, grand in
their ornate uniforms, saluted smartly as Laurent ushered the Claytons into the castle hallway. The main doors led straight into a huge hallway, part of the original medieval keep, with thick stone walls covered with tapestries and huge wrought iron chandeliers suspended from the high ceilings. Corridors led off on three directions and wooden staircases on either side led to the gallery.
‘This is the original part of the castle. It was modified and extended through the centuries and three hundred years ago turned into the structure we see today—but all those original parts are incorporated within the castle. This is the main ceremonial wing; the residential wing is to the left, the business wing to your right, and that includes the parliamentary chambers, and the domestic and administrative wing is at the back.’ He frowned. ‘I’m not sure if wing is the correct term when the building is a square?’
‘Are the turrets original?’ Bella asked and Laurent smiled.
‘Sadly not. Most of the bits that look really medieval are eighteenth-century follies. Apart from this hall, which dates back to the twelfth century in parts.’ So much history and he could trace his line right back to that twelfth century duke. Some Archdukes had managed peace, others had fought wars they might or might not have been responsible for. Some had built, others had plundered. His grandfather had tried to take a country ravaged by two World Wars in twenty years and give it stability, a goal his father had inherited. Their hopes rested on Laurent’s shoulders now.
‘Would you like to go to your rooms now or would you like some refreshments?’ he asked. Both women elected to head to their suite to freshen up, but Mike Clayton asked for refreshments and Laurent led him to the library, ordering a coffee tray to be brought to them there.
‘You are, of course, welcome on any of the excursions we have arranged for Mrs Clayton,’ he said once the drinks had been brought in and the coffee poured. ‘I have arranged some field trips for you as well; I hope that’s acceptable. One to the sites that I thought might appeal to you if you did decide to locate your factory here and a visit to the university, and a tour of some of our transport facilities.’ He paused, searching for the right words to say next. ‘I owe you an apology. It can’t have been pleasant seeing your daughter in the gossip columns. For me it’s a way of life; I ignore them. But for the uninitiated it can be brutal. The speculation about your family must have been difficult.’
Mike Clayton added milk to his coffee before replying, his shrewd gaze fixed on Laurent as he did so. ‘It hasn’t been easy. We’re not used to that sort of publicity. I thought it was Bella you were interested in. I wasn’t aware you even knew Emilia. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to see her here. We’re not close.’
‘I believe your wife asked her to help plan the ball,’ Laurent said and Mike Clayton nodded.
‘So Simone said. It seemed a little risky to me; Emilia can be a little volatile. She takes after her mother. But apparently she’s good at what she does. It will be nice to see her. It’s been a while. Look, don’t worry about those pictures. Emilia always had a knack of getting into trouble, of demanding attention. I’m just surprised this hasn’t happened before.’
Laurent stared at the older man in disbelief. ‘The Emilia I have come to know is steady and hardworking,’ he said. ‘And the only reason she was in that situation is because of me. I took her out without bodyguards and I’m the one the paparazzi are interested in. Believe me, your daughter has been nothing but professional since the day she got here.’
Not wanting the conversation to escalate, Laurent switched back to discussing the itinerary for the next few days until the coffee was finished and the two men moved onto the local brandy. Mike Clayton picked up his glass and swirled the amber liquid thoughtfully. ‘I suppose you think I’m a terrible father?’
Laurent paused, torn between good manners, the knowledge that he needed to keep this man on side and his wish to tell Emilia’s father exactly what he thought of him. ‘Emilia said she wasn’t an easy child,’ he admitted. ‘And from things she’s mentioned it sounds like she wasn’t. But she was very young. I lost my father when I was young, sir, so I don’t know a lot about relationships between fathers and their children. But I hope mine would have stood by me no matter what.’ He kept his voice polite but his expression was hard and fixed on the older man, who nodded as he absorbed the words.
‘Her mother was a very emotional woman. She hated how much I worked, wanted a marriage of ups and downs, full of big dramatic gestures, whether that was breaking every glass in the house or some spontaneous romantic adventure. And for a while it was exciting, but then it was just exhausting. Simone was so calm; meeting her was like coming home after a storm. She was interested in my work, supportive... I could have handled the divorce better, but Marie made it hard, which was understandable but helped no one, let alone Emilia. I offered Marie the Kensington flat, but she refused and moved out to north London, blaming me for the upheaval. She didn’t want me to see Emilia. She would cancel weekends or holidays, rearrange when we had plans...and when Emilia was with us it was clear she didn’t want to be. Simone said we shouldn’t give in, that it should be business as usual, but I wonder now if that was the right tack.’ He downed the brandy. ‘It’s too late now.’
‘Emilia said you didn’t want to see her back then,’ Laurent said slowly, unsure of how much of Emilia’s confidences he could reveal. Mike Clayton nodded.
‘To be fair to Marie, she believed her own dramas. I’m sure she thought it was true. She didn’t even tell me she was ill; the first I knew of it was when the hospital called and we hadn’t seen Emilia for months. I know,’ he said, looking up at Laurent, ‘that I have little excuse here. I’m just telling you how it was. The business was taking off so quickly I worked eighteen-hour days, seven days a week. And Emilia didn’t want to be with us anyway. I assuaged my conscience by sending her things rather than trying to force her to see me. Then Marie was gone and Emilia blamed me for everything. The next four years were almost unbearable; she waged a constant war. When she left, we could breathe for the first time in years.’
‘So you just let her go?’ Laurent couldn’t keep the blame from his voice.
‘I arranged a job for her with an old friend of mine, a job that came with a room. I made sure she got the training she needed to move up, even though she’d not even taken her school exams. I paid off that unpleasant young man she took up with when she was eighteen, and I have put money aside for her every month. She could buy a house if she wanted to, invest it in that business of hers, but she doesn’t want to know. She doesn’t reply to my texts, never comes to the house. I know why, but I have no idea how we can start anew or if she would even consider it.’
‘Does she know any of this?’
‘I don’t know,’ Mike Clayton said heavily. ‘I doubt it and now it’s too late. But she looked happy with you. Once I’d got over the shock, it was nice to see her happy.’
Guilt stabbed at Laurent. She had looked happy in those pictures—he’d been so horrified on her behalf, at the invasion of her privacy, he hadn’t taken the time to see beyond the headlines. And he’d made no attempt to see her since. He was no better than the man sitting before him. She deserved better than both of them.
‘She was happy,’ he said slowly before looking directly at the older man. ‘Look, it’s none of my business but I think you should talk to your daughter. Tell her what you told me. She needs to hear it and she’ll only believe it if it comes from you. You owe her that.’
His bluntness might have just lost him a deal, but Laurent needed more than honour and duty. He needed integrity. And he needed to find Emilia.
* * *
The evening was drawing in, but Emilia barely noticed the pink streaks highlighting the sky; instead her gaze returned again and again to the archway that led into the courtyard. Of course Laurent might be too busy with his guests to come here tonight, or assume that she wouldn’t be there her
self after the two evenings she had missed. Or maybe he simply didn’t want to see her, thanks to her lies.
Coming here was foolish; she knew that. But she needed to tell him goodbye before all the guests arrived and gossiped about them, before she had to keep a careful distance in public so as not to fuel that gossip. Goodbye and thank you. Tell him what his friendship had meant.
Closing her eyes, Emilia inhaled the now familiar scent of flowers and herbs. She had never been as drawn to a place as she had this garden. It had felt like home. But her home was back in Chelsea with her friends. A place where she could work and not think, where she was safe. Chest aching, she walked around the garden a couple of times listening to the evening birdsong until she heard footsteps in the courtyard and halted, her heart hammering in her chest. She pulled the key out of her pocket and held it with trembling hands until Laurent came through the archway. He stopped when he saw her, an incredulous smile curving his beautiful mouth, and she held up a hand to stop him coming closer.
‘Hey,’ she said.
‘Hey.’
He looked tired, shadows purpling his blue eyes, his cheeks hollow, and her heart turned over at the sight. She wanted to hold him, to support him, but all she could do was stand there. ‘How are my family?’
‘Okay, I think. Bella adores the horse I picked out and she is in love with all the puppies. I suspect she’ll be begging for one to take home. Remember I promised you a puppy too; you need to go and visit them.’
‘Maybe later. Bella was raving about how sweet they are. I saw her yesterday. She’s changed costume. She is now full-on Titania in white and silver robes.’
‘Probably for the best,’ he said and she nodded agreement, guilt coursing through her. Bella hadn’t reproached her in any way, but her sister seemed instantly at home in Armaria. In less than a day she had made friends and knew her way around the castle. She would have made a good Archduchess. If Emilia hadn’t got in the way.
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