‘You mean ask their permission?’
‘Not so much permission,’ he said, ‘because you’re not anyone’s property, but I’d like their blessing. I want to be courteous and show them that I’m considering their feelings, too. I don’t have a royal background, but they need to know that I’ll love you and cherish you for the rest of my days—and I intend to stay right by your side, whatever happens.’
She could barely believe that he loved her and wanted to be by her side. Be a hands-on dad.
‘I don’t have a ring in my pocket, and I think Saoirse should have our mum’s engagement ring, so I can’t offer you that in the future, either.’ He smiled. ‘So I guess we’re going to have to go shopping at some point.’ He dropped to one knee. ‘I kind of wanted to ask you in the palace library, where it all started. But then I saw you reading on this bench, and I know that this is the right place. I hope your dad’s looking down right now and knows I’m asking you to marry me in the place that he loved most. I hope my dad’s there with him, swapping plant stories. And my mum’s making them both a mug of tea so they can skulk off into a greenhouse afterwards and potter about and talk about which parks are the best for taking toddlers to.’
She felt the tears filling her eyes. ‘That’s—that’s a lovely picture.’
‘And I have weddingy demands.’
She couldn’t help smiling. ‘Weddingy demands?’
‘Absolutely. I want this to be a family wedding. Izzy and Sursh as our bridesmaids. Your grandfather walking you down the aisle. Your mum and your grandmother dabbing their eyes in the front row and sighing over what a fairy tale bride you make.’
‘Works for me,’ she said.
‘Good.’ He smiled up at her. ‘Vittoria di Sarda, I fell in love with you on the day I first met you,’ he said. ‘And even when you had the wrong colour hair and the wrong colour eyes, and you were wearing clothes you wouldn’t normally wear in a million years, I fell deeper in love with you every day. I’m not promising you perfection—there will be days when I’m grouchy with you and you’re the Winter Queen with me, and you’re going to criticise or choke on my coffee—but I promise to love you with all of my heart, all of my soul, all that I am. If your family gives us their blessing, will you marry me?’
‘Yes,’ she said, and kissed him.
CHAPTER TEN
‘SO, DO I ask Matteo Battaglia to make me an appointment with your grandfather?’ Liam asked.
‘No. We’re doing this as a team,’ Vittoria said.
‘If you come with me, it looks as if I’m hiding behind your skirts,’ Liam pointed out. ‘If I can’t even face your grandfather on my own, how is he ever going to believe that I can cope with a royal lifestyle and a pack of paparazzi?’
She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘You have a point. But Matteo can stonewall you and claim that Nonno’s diary is full and you’ll have to accept what he says at face value; whereas I also have access to Nonno’s diary and I know where the gaps are.’
‘In that case,’ Liam said, ‘I’ll apologise to your grandfather’s private secretary later for going behind his back and ask you to make an appointment for me.’ He paused. ‘Do you know when your mother and grandmother are free, too?’
‘You’re planning to face all of them at once?’
‘That makes it sound as if it’s going to be an ordeal,’ Liam said.
She had to be honest. ‘It might be.’
He shrugged. ‘In the old days, weren’t knights supposed to fight dragons to win the princess’s hand? This is the modern equivalent.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Really?’
He laughed. ‘Except obviously you’re not a chattel to be given away.’
‘And there’s the whole dragon-slaying thing,’ she pointed out.
‘All right, it was a stupid metaphor,’ he said. ‘I was trying to be too clever, and I failed.’
She kissed him lightly. ‘I like the fact you can admit when you’re wrong.’
‘Let’s rewind,’ he said. ‘I’d like to meet your family and ask for their blessing. Obviously, they’ll have concerns, so I’d like the chance to talk to them, find out what worries them, and either reassure them or work towards reassuring them. And I know that sounds more like a business deal than planning a wedding,’ he added swiftly, ‘so I also want you to know that I love you and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make you happy.’
A man who thought things through. Who planned. Who did things sensibly—and who loved her and wasn’t afraid to tell her. ‘That,’ she said, ‘sounds like an excellent plan.’
‘With goals. Specific, measurable, achievable, realistic—the only thing missing is “timed”,’ he said, smiling. ‘And I think the timing is now. Provided they’re free, of course.’
* * *
Three brief phone calls later—all conducted in rapid Italian Liam couldn’t follow—Vittoria turned to him. ‘Would you like to accompany me to the library? They’ll meet us there.’
The library.
The place where it had all started. Where he’d seen the woman behind the tiara. The woman he’d fallen in love with.
That had to be a good sign—right?
Vittoria signalled to Giorgio that all was well, and took Liam’s hand.
Liam’s stomach was tied in knots. This was the most important meeting of his life, and he had to get it right. He needed to convince Vittoria’s family that he was the right partner for her—even though he was from the wrong background.
Right at that moment, it felt like every exam, his driving test, and every ‘first day’ of his life rolled into one. Knowing he needed to prove himself. Except with exams and his career, he’d known what he was doing. He’d been pretty sure of the results, because he’d put the work in and honed the skills he needed.
This was something he had no control over, and it was terrifying.
Silently, he walked beside her.
He only realised he was gripping her hand too tightly when she whispered, ‘Liam, I kind of need some circulation in my fingers. Would you mind loosening your grip?’
‘Sorry.’ He dropped her hand. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
‘It’s fine.’ She stole a swift kiss and laced her fingers very loosely between his again. ‘It’s kind of reassuring to know you’re nervous.’
‘How?’
‘Because it means I’m that important to you,’ she said. ‘You’re not taking any of this for granted.’
‘No. But, whatever happens today, I love you and I’ll be there for you and the baby. I’ll make it work,’ he promised.
She paused outside the door to the library. ‘Ready?’
Not in a million years. ‘Ready,’ he confirmed.
‘I love you,’ she whispered, and stood back to let him open the door for her.
Vittoria’s family were sitting on the comfortable sofas arranged in a semi-circle in the centre of the room—the king, the queen and the princess. Although the setting appeared to make it informal, Liam knew it wasn’t informal in the slightest. It wasn’t normal for a princess to ask the rest of the royal family to a meeting, and it wasn’t normal to introduce a commoner at said meeting. Her family were astute enough to realise this was an interview. He was going to be the one doing most of the talking and answering their questions. And the seating was set up very much like an interview panel.
‘Nonno, Nonna, Mamma—I’d like to introduce you to Liam MacCarthy,’ Vittoria said. ‘Liam, you have already met my grandfather, King Vittorio. This is my grandmother, Queen Giulia, and my mother, Princess Maria.’
Liam gave a formal bow. ‘Vostro Maestà, Vostre Altezze Reale,’ he said.
Three inscrutable royal faces gazed back at him. And nobody asked him to take a seat. Maybe this was a test to show that he could cope with pressure. Well, he’d make sure he passed—because thi
s was too important to fail. He couldn’t and wouldn’t let Vittoria down.
‘We were very pleased with your official photographs of Vittoria, Mr MacCarthy,’ the king said.
‘Thank you, sir.’ Liam smiled.
‘And it was kind of you to host Vittoria in England,’ Queen Giulia added.
The politeness oddly made him feel even more nervous. Perhaps it would be better to think of this in terms of an assignment. He needed to get the pose right and the lighting right, and bring out the story behind the picture.
Except in this case he was the subject, and he had no control over the pose or the lighting.
‘What brings you to San Rocello, Mr MacCarthy?’ Princess Maria asked.
This was it. His moment. Liam glanced at Vittoria, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.
‘I was hoping to speak to you all,’ Liam said. ‘Sir. Ma’am. Ma’am.’
Again, they had inscrutable expressions. No feedback. It was like working in a room with a difficult light source and without a light meter to help him get the balance right; he had to rely on his own instincts. Make sure that he was enough.
‘I realise that this might come as a—’ Shock? No, because that signalled bad news. For a moment, he wished he’d asked Vittoria to delay the meeting for long enough for him to work out a speech. Then again, even with preparation he might get it wrong. It was better to speak from the heart. Be honest. ‘A surprise,’ he continued, ‘but I would like your blessing to marry Vittoria.’
‘You want to marry Vittoria,’ the king said. ‘Perhaps you could explain why you think we would give you our blessing, Mr MacCarthy.’
‘Because I love her, sir,’ Liam said. ‘I mean I love Vittoria—it has nothing to do with her being a princess, and everything to do with who she is.’
‘So do we assume from this that you had some kind of affair during Vittoria’s holiday?’ the queen asked.
He wanted to squirm, but he faced her. ‘That,’ Liam said, ‘makes our relationship sound tacky and flimsy. Which it isn’t. With respect, ma’am, I fell in love with your granddaughter the first day I met her.’ He took a deep breath. ‘When I took photographs for her sister in this very room.’
Silence.
He had no idea whether this was going well or badly. All he could do was press on. ‘Obviously I’m not from a royal background, and I realise that might cause you some concern about my suitability. But I’d like to reassure you that I will always put Vittoria first. And that I love her.’
‘I see,’ Vittorio said. ‘And you can support my granddaughter in the manner to which she has become accustomed?’
‘Not quite,’ Liam said. ‘I’m not a prince. I can’t shower her in priceless jewels, buy her a castle in every country, or employ dozens of staff. But I have a comfortable income, I have a good reputation in my industry, and I own a flat in Chelsea as well as the cottage by the sea. I have supported my family for years.’ He met the king’s gaze levelly. ‘I’m aware that I’m not the kind of person you expected Vittoria to marry. I apologise for that, but I’m not ashamed of my background. My father was a horticulturalist at Kew Gardens, and my mother taught art. They were good people, kind and loving, and I hope I can bring that same goodness, kindness and love into our marriage.’
And oh, he dearly wanted what his parents had had. A marriage where they’d worked as a team and backed each other. Loved each other.
Vittoria’s mother and grandmother exchanged a glance. Liam was horribly aware that his words were inadequate.
What would he worry about, in their shoes? What had gone wrong with Rufus? Apparently the man had backed away because he couldn’t handle the royal lifestyle. So Vittoria’s family might worry that he would do the same. ‘I know a royal life isn’t an easy one, especially as it’s lived very much in the public eye, and I’ll probably make mistakes,’ Liam said. ‘But I hope that someone on your staff will point me in the right direction to help me learn whatever I need to know, so I can support Vittoria properly in her duties and not repeat my mistakes. Right now, my Italian’s at a very basic level, but I intend to become fluent as quickly as possible. And I’m not afraid of hard work.’
‘No. A man who put his own dreams aside to bring up his younger sister definitely isn’t afraid of hard work,’ Vittorio said.
The king had clearly either seen that dossier Vittoria had read before Liam took her portrait, or she’d briefed him.
‘And how do you feel about all this, Vittoria?’ the king asked.
‘I love Liam,’ she said simply. ‘And he loves me. That’s all I need to know.’
‘I see,’ he said, and turned to Liam. ‘So, Mr MacCarthy. What if I don’t give you my blessing to marry my granddaughter?’
Liam lifted his chin slightly and looked at the king. ‘Family is important to both of us. With respect, sir, we intend to marry whether we have your blessing or not. But we’d both be happier if we had our family there to share the celebration and the love.’
‘Celebration,’ the king said thoughtfully. ‘Should I assume you want a full state wedding?’
‘I want,’ Liam said, ‘whatever will make Vittoria happy. Whether it’s a simple and very private family ceremony, or whether it’s a more elaborate celebration so her country can share in it. The type of wedding isn’t important. What’s important is that we’re together. A team. And that our families are there.’
Was it his imagination, or was there a tiny glint of approval in the king’s eyes?
OK. So they understood he loved Vittoria, he was prepared to work hard to make sure he fitted in to a royal lifestyle, and he intended to be constant. What else would a rich family be worried about? That he was a gold-digger who planned to steal the princess’s heart, then dump her and take her to the cleaners, perhaps? ‘I will instruct my family lawyer to arrange a prenup, to say that I am entitled to absolutely nothing if this marriage doesn’t last,’ Liam added. ‘Though I do believe this marriage will last, because I love Vittoria and that’s not going to change. Ever. I will love her—’ and their baby, though he rather thought that particular piece of news needed to wait for a little bit longer ‘—with all my heart and soul, for the rest of my days.’ He looked at them. ‘Is there anything you’re concerned about that I haven’t addressed?’
‘Being a consort isn’t easy,’ Giulia said. ‘How do you propose to cope with that side of Vittoria’s life?’
That was an easier question. ‘As the queen of your country,’ he said, ‘Vittoria will have a lot to think about and a lot to worry about. My job as her consort, ma’am, will be to take some of that care from her. To be there when she needs me, but not wrapping her in cotton wool or crowding her. Supporting her. Holding her hand when she thinks the next step she needs to take will be too hard, and reminding her that she’s an incredibly capable woman who can do absolutely anything she puts her mind to.’
‘Well, young man,’ Giulia said. ‘It seems you understand what a consort’s role is.’
‘And I intend to do it well.’ Liam took a deep breath. ‘Of course you have concerns—just as I would about anyone who wanted to marry my sister. You love Vittoria and you want the best for her. The way I see it, Vittoria needs the support of someone who loves her. Someone who will listen to her worries, let her bounce ideas, ask questions to help clarify her thoughts, and help her to find a solution. She needs someone who will put her first, and that to me is worth more than any title or money I could bring to a marriage. I can’t offer perfection, but I will love her with all my heart and soul—all that I am—for the rest of my days. And I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to make this work. I know you only have my word for it, but I hope that Princess Isabella can reassure you that I’m honourable. That I have integrity.’
‘How do you know you love Vittoria, Mr MacCarthy?’ Maria asked.
‘Because my world’s a better place with her
in it, ma’am,’ Liam said. ‘And without her everything feels as if it’s monochrome and underexposed. She’s the one who brings the light in, for me.’
‘You’ve known Vittoria for, what, a month? How do you know your feelings won’t change?’ Giulia asked.
Vittoria had told him that her mother and grandmother were overprotective. But he understood where they were coming from; they were asking the same kind of questions he’d want answered by anyone who wanted to marry Saoirse.
All he could do was speak from the heart. Tell them how he really felt.
‘My feelings probably will change, ma’am,’ he said. ‘I love Vittoria for who she is now. But people aren’t static and neither is love. People grow and change. But I think Vittoria and I are both old enough to realise how each other is likely to change in the years to come. And I know I’ll love the woman she becomes.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I can stand here and declare my undying love for the next hour, but they’re just words. You have no way of knowing that I mean them, and I can’t say anything to prove how I feel about Vittoria. But I think I can show you.’
‘How?’ the king asked.
‘May I show you the photograph I took, sir?’ He gestured to his phone.
At the king’s nod, Liam tapped in the password to his private portfolio and brought up the last picture he’d taken in the library.
‘A good portrait will show you the person behind the image,’ he said. ‘And, looking back, I think this is the moment I fell in love with Vittoria. This is the woman behind the tiara. She’s bright and capable, a little shy, and she loses herself in Shakespeare.’
The king studied the photograph, then handed the phone to the queen. She, too, examined it, then passed it to Vittoria’s mother. And Maria gave a sharp intake of breath. ‘My daughter,’ she said softly. ‘I’ve never seen you like that, Rina. You glow.’
‘That’s the woman I see,’ Liam said, his voice equally soft. ‘The woman I want to spend the rest of my days with. The woman I want to grow old with. The woman I want to have ch—’ He stopped.
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