Their Christmas Royal Wedding Page 5

  Her sigh was deep. ‘I did. I have. But...’

  ‘I didn’t stick in your mind?’ He allowed mock chagrin to crease his face, put one hand on his heart as if wounded, and she grinned.

  ‘Obviously not... But to be fair to me it was dark, secondly, I felt like a fool having been caught hiding in straw, third, I thought that there was no way Prince Cesar of Aguilarez would ever come into the stables.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I didn’t think the suave, sophisticated playboy ambassador would get his hands dirty.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Plus, I made the not unreasonable assumption that Prince Cesar would introduce himself. Not mislead me into believing he was a member of staff.’ She pulled lightly on the reins, murmured to Arya and came to a stop. ‘And you still haven’t told me why.’

  He too halted.

  Deep breath. Choose your words carefully.

  ‘I wanted to see what you were like. Really like. The real you.’ The real her. The woman who had admitted to doubts and fears, the woman who had told him she would keep his words confidential, the woman he’d caught in his arms, the woman he’d desperately wanted to kiss. ‘If I had told you who I was you would have been much more formal.’

  ‘I’d also have been a whole lot more discreet.’

  ‘Exactly. The whole political stance, the Asturias-Valenti relationship would have been a priority. I didn’t want that. I wanted a chance to get to know you, without that layer.’

  ‘Why?’

  The million-dollar question. Looking round, he saw they were very nearly at their destination. ‘Why don’t we get some food...? And I will answer. I promise. First I want to show you this.’

  * * *

  Gabi realised she had been so absorbed in their conversation she had lost track of time and their surroundings. Now she realised that they would soon approach the maze, a truly incredible complex creation, the boxwood hedges dating back centuries.

  But nothing had prepared her for how it looked this evening, in its Christmas splendour, and she gave a gasp of wonder. ‘It’s magical.’ Gabi stared in utter delight. The twinkling lights had been woven and twisted into the verdant greenery to form an iridescent beautiful pattern of stars. Beautiful coloured lanterns lit the path leading to the maze, hung from the trees, each lantern a bauble of Christmas glittering beauty highlighted by the moon’s beams.

  ‘It’s beautiful. Like a winter wonderland.’ She frowned. ‘We can’t take the horses in, though.’

  ‘No need. I’ve arranged for someone to meet us here and take them back to the stables. We will be picked up later.’

  ‘You’ve thought of everything.’ And it made her heart flutter. Because she knew he would have had to speak to a lot of people to get this set up just for them.

  ‘I have tried. I want to show you that I am sorry for the unfortunate outcome of my deception. And I wanted you to see this.’

  ‘Do you have anything similar in Aguilarez?’

  ‘My country is more mountainous, craggier, less gentle; perhaps that reflects on our culture. But it is a magnificent country, a place that takes your breath away.’

  ‘I would like to explore it.’ Gabi could hear his love for his country in his voice, wondered then that he visited so infrequently. Of course his work kept him abroad but even so...

  ‘Perhaps you will allow me to be your guide.’

  Before she could reply, the sound of a car intruded and within minutes the large four-by-four had parked and a group of people climbed out. A few unloaded the boot and set off into the maze, whilst two youths headed towards Gabi and Cesar. As they approached both Ferron and Arya whinnied in recognition. Gabi dismounted, chatted to the newcomers and then watched as they mounted the horses and trotted off.

  Cesar gestured towards the illuminated maze. ‘Shall we? I do know the way but I am happy to wander round getting lost if you would prefer?’

  Gabi sighed. ‘I know the way too. There was a photo shoot; a publicity thing with Luca and I bonding by finding our way through the maze together.’

  But, even with their knowing the way, the maze with its twisty wending turns and alleys was still both fascinating and breathtaking. Tucked into corners were wooden sculptures to depict a Christmas theme, elves, reindeer, robins all elaborately carved and placed for maximum effect. The lights twinkled and shone and glinted off the greenery and Gabi loved it.

  ‘I love how Christmassy it all is. It sounds mad but I was so caught up with my presentation ball I’d almost forgotten how close Christmas is. Plus although the Casavalle palace is beautiful all the decorating is done by staff. I’m not complaining,’ she said, quickly, ‘but I’m used to decorating the book store myself.’

  ‘I suppose this is very different from your usual Christmases.’

  ‘Yes.’ Gabi was silent for a moment. ‘When I was a child Christmas was pretty quiet, but that was OK. Uncle Peter would get the tree and Aunt Bea and I always decorated it.’ The memory was precious—it had been something the two of them could do together, a time where she’d felt a tenuous but real bond. ‘We’d exchange a few gifts.’ Always necessary items for Gabi, a new pair of shoes for school, a pair of gloves because her old ones had worn out, because that was always what she had asked for, not wanting to impose, always aware of what the elderly couple had given up for her both financially and emotionally. Their savings and their dream. ‘After Christmas dinner, we’d go for a walk.’ There hadn’t been much conversation but the silences had been companionable; it had been a time when she’d felt closest to them both. Gabi had always sensed she was accepted rather than wanted; when she was eight she’d understood why. An overheard conversation between Bea and a friend.

  ‘She’s a pretty little thing,’ the friend had said and Gabi had beamed to herself. ‘Sweet as well, polite.’

  Then her Aunt Bea: ‘I know she is and thank goodness for it. It was all a bit of a shock, really. Peter and I never wanted children and we had a plan for our retirement years. We were going to travel round Europe and end up in sunny Spain. Of course, we could never have done that once Sophia died. Gabriella is family and we would always do right by family. But sometimes I can’t help but imagine how different life would be.’

  Though her aunt and uncle had never told her of their thwarted plans, the words had haunted her for years, still caused a guilt that would tug at her for ever. She’d done her best to make it up to them, vowed to herself that somehow she would save enough so that one day they would still be able to travel. But it wasn’t to be. Bea and Peter had passed away before that had been a possibility.

  Gabi blinked herself back to the present, aware that Cesar was studying her expression, also aware of his words of the previous day—that royals should mask their feelings. And here she was, standing in a reverie of regret and guilt and haunted memories.

  ‘Sorry. I got a little lost in the past. I bet your Christmases must have been a lot noisier than mine, with five siblings.’

  ‘Noise wasn’t encouraged in the royal household. Aguilarez does not embrace Christmas with the same verve as Casavalle. Or at least my parents do not. Our palace has one huge tree in the gardens for the public to see but we did not decorate inside like you do. Nor do we have anything like this maze.’

  ‘So tell me about your Christmas Day.’

  ‘We went to church, then we would visit the estate and we would open state gifts. The family didn’t exchange gifts as we got so many from the public. We would send individual thank-you letters, of course—my parents believed it should be done by hand and done on Christmas Day.’

  ‘At least you got loads of gifts.’

  ‘We weren’t allowed to keep them.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘There were too many and so my parents decreed none could be kept. So we donated them to charity.’

  ‘That must have been really tough.’ She frow
ned. ‘But why didn’t you exchange gifts, in that case?’

  ‘Yes, we spotted that flaw.’ Cesar shrugged. ‘The general feeling was we were so lucky and privileged to be royal we didn’t need gifts, I suppose. Christmas was more seen as an opportunity to give to the people than to celebrate in private.’

  Gabi glanced at him. His voice was matter-of-fact. No anger or frustration, simple acceptance. And, she supposed, why should he complain? He was a prince, and he did have a fantastically privileged lifestyle. Yet he had missed out on the magical Christmases that were so important to childhood. Not because of the lack of gifts but because of the lack of Christmas spirit and family cheer.

  ‘What about now?’ he asked. ‘How do you usually spend Christmas?’

  ‘I kept the book store open so that people could come and have some festive fare and some company. I realised there are a lot of lonely people out there. People on their own at Christmas. So I’d make some turkey sandwiches, tourtière, a Yule log, Christmas cookies and mulled cider and people could just drop in as they liked. I loved it.’ Homesickness threatened and she blinked quickly, reminded herself again that royals didn’t show emotions. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I tend to holiday at Christmas, sometimes skiing, sometimes tropical, always fun.’

  No doubt the fun included a gorgeous girlfriend, but that was none of her business and before she could reply they arrived at the centre of the maze where Gabi halted. ‘Oh, my goodness.’

  The space had been transformed into a magical grotto. A wooden carved nativity scene made her catch her breath as she went over and examined the lovingly exquisite detail, marvelled at the talent that had created the small figures, the people and the animals, the cradle, the Virgin Mary, all somehow imbued with a sense of simplicity, grace and awe.

  A table had been set up, covered in an embroidered damask tablecloth, laid with gleaming cutlery and starched napkins. The centrepiece was a magical burst of Christmas colours. Heaters had been set up to combat the wintry night air, and additional lights cast a golden illumination. The air was rich with the scent of food laid out on the table in a display that made her mouth water.

  Three staff members were putting the finishing touches to the table. One approached them with a smile. ‘Welcome. All is ready, Your Highness. The champagne is chilled, the picnic is laid out. I hope you both enjoy the food.’

  With that, all the staff melted discreetly away and Gabi stared in delight at the tableau. ‘This is what you call a picnic?’

  ‘Yup. Picnic Cesar Asturias style.’

  ‘Impressive. It’s beautiful.’ And her heart gave a hop, skip and jump. Whoa. Keep this real, Gabi. You may be nearly Queen, but you’re still Gabi Ross, gawky book nerd. Not Cesar’s type of woman at all. This was a political gesture, nothing more.

  Cesar pulled a chair out and Gabi sat down, waited for him to seat himself opposite her. He looked impossibly handsome and for a moment her head whirled. Focus. Instinct told her that perhaps this was more than a gesture. This was a man schooled in diplomacy, a man whose every word and action were no doubt dictated by policy.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said as she accepted a crystal flute brimming with champagne, lifted it in toast. ‘To answers,’ she said. ‘Speaking of which, I’d like some. What is all this about? What was the night we met about? Why was it so important to get an impression about the “real” me?’

  He helped himself from a bowl of pasta salad, the shapes gleaming with oil, dotted with olives, capers and cubes of a tart, local cheese, and studied her across the table, his dark eyes thoughtful, his expression neutral, the only sign of tension the tautness of his jaw.

  ‘I’m Canadian as well as Casavallian,’ Gabi reminded him. ‘We favour the direct approach. There is no need to be diplomatic here. I’d rather you cut to the chase and told me.’

  A shrug and, ‘OK.’ He nodded. ‘I wanted to see if there was a compatibility between us. Because I believe we should consider a marriage.’

  ‘Whose marriage?’ The stupidity of the question was apparent to her even as she spoke the words. Yet surely he couldn’t possibly mean...

  ‘Our marriage.’

  ‘You and me? You think we should get married?’ Panic threatened and she shoved her chair back; her fork fell with a clatter onto the china plate. ‘One waltz and a sip of fizz and you are proposing?’

  Cesar rose to his feet. ‘Hold on. It is not a proposal. It is an idea for us to discuss. To consider as a possible future option.’

  ‘I think you’ll find that is the definition of a proposal. I don’t need to consider it. I need to leave. Now.’ She stood up. Was she overreacting? Gabi gave it a couple of seconds’ consideration and decided not.

  He inhaled deeply. ‘Please stay. Tell me why you won’t consider it?’

  Gabi opened her mouth and then closed it again. There were so many reasons, all so incredibly obvious to her. ‘Why would I consider it?’

  ‘For Casavalle. For Aguilarez. For our countries.’

  The words, in their simplicity, echoed round the glade, caromed off the dark evergreen leaves, magnified and filled the air. Gabriella fought the urge to turn and run from the weighted knowledge that her life was no longer her own to live. Instead it belonged to her country.

  ‘You know our countries’ histories,’ he continued.

  ‘I do, and I know that in the past the enmity was deep and bloody. But there has been peace for over two centuries.’ Which surely meant the whole need for a marriage was ludicrous.

  ‘Yet right now the situation is precarious. There are still many who feel it is foolish for one small island to have two countries, two royal families. Others think royalty should be replaced by democracy. Right now even royalists are unhappy. Many in Casavalle feel that Meribel has insulted the House of Valenti, many in my country feel Luca should have backed out, that he would have married Meribel under false pretences.’

  ‘And there are also those who believe that I am a usurper and that Luca is the rightful King.’ Gabriella sighed. ‘Perhaps I made a mistake. Perhaps I should just stand aside, allow Luca to fulfil the destiny he was brought up to, take the throne.’

  Cesar shook his head. ‘You cannot put the genie back in the bottle, Gabriella. You are the rightful heir; you are King Vincenzo’s oldest child.’

  ‘I know. I have been through it all in my head so many times. Luca, Antonio and Maria all believe I should take the throne.’

  ‘I too agree with this. Both countries must unite behind a position: the honourable one, the right one. Our marriage would represent that union.’

  ‘I am sure our countries would survive without our marriage,’ she said, her fingers tight round the back of her chair.

  ‘Of course, they would.’ The deep voice was full of reassurance. ‘Please, sit down. Let me explain. I am not trying to force you into a course of action you do not want. I cannot do that even if I wished it. But I believe this is an idea that would benefit both our countries.’

  An insidious tendril of disappointment snuck through her; she’d thought...thought what? That Cesar liked her, was attracted to her, was interested in her. Well, the last at least was true, though not for the reasons she’d naively, foolishly hoped. She was royalty now, soon to be Queen, and she needed to get real. Cesar Asturias had been linked to numerous beautiful, sophisticated women in his time...he wouldn’t have given Gabi a second look if it weren’t for her crown.

  But at least he had had the courtesy to be honest and in return royal manners dictated that she listen to him. Then she could tell him to shove it.

  So she sat down, right on the edge of her seat. ‘OK. Explain.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WITH AN ABILITY born of years of top-level diplomacy Cesar didn’t let the relief show on his face, tried not to show the fact that he was rattled. This was not going according to plan at all. Perhaps his insist
ence that Queen Maria not interfere, not lay the groundwork had been a mistake, but he’d been convinced that this agreement had to be between himself and Gabriella. Her decision not tainted or influenced by either his family or hers.

  ‘First, I’m sorry—I thought that maybe given the fact that Luca was meant to marry Meribel, you would perhaps have considered an alliance through marriage between our countries.’

  ‘Given how that worked out it is hardly surprising I didn’t,’ she pointed out and he had to admit the point was valid. ‘If that marriage had never been considered it would have been way easier for everyone.’

  ‘Easier isn’t always right.’

  ‘Do you believe they should have gone through with it?’

  ‘No. I don’t. Foisting a fake heir onto Casavalle would have been a disaster. That scandal would have been even worse than the scandal of leaving Luca at the altar. I believe that Meribel should not have allowed herself to get into the situation she did.’

  ‘I don’t know exactly what happened. But perhaps Meribel fell in love—how could she have prevented herself from doing that?’

  ‘She could have closed it down as soon as she felt anything for Dana. People don’t just fall in love in an instant.’ And yet...he remembered the look on his sister’s face when she had spoken to Luca. Tears had slid down her cheeks as she’d admitted the guilt she felt over how she had treated him, brought shame to her house. But when Meribel had declared her love for the father of her baby, for Dana, her face had glowed with a belief and a certainty and he’d known that his sister had changed. Would go to the wall for this love. Stupidity. Though Luca seemed to have understood.

  ‘Yes, they do,’ Gabriella said. ‘Look at Luca and Imogen; they certainly didn’t mean to fall in love. Neither did Antonio and Tia. But they did. Antonio and Tia are getting married in a few days; their baby is due in a couple of months.’

  ‘And I wish them every happiness.’

  ‘But...?’ There was a challenge in her voice.