The Royal Marriage. Fiona Hood-Stewart

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СКАЧАТЬ don’t marry me,’ she flashed. ‘It’s as simple as that.’

      ‘I am responsible for all your affairs now. I have told the trustees of your inheritance that we will marry as agreed. Believe me,’ he added, an edge to his voice, ‘I have as little desire to go through with this damn wedding as you apparently have.’

      ‘Thanks,’ she said, flopping back in the seat, her eyes still glinting. Crossing her arms angrily, she stared out of the window at the clouds.

      ‘Gabriella, do not try my patience any further. I have tried to be of as much solace to you as possible over the past weeks. But frankly you are being impossible. Why not try and make the best of the situation? We’ll manage somehow.’

      ‘Oh? Is that what you think?’ Her eyes blazed again as she let out a ragged breath and her lip trembled. ‘I’ve lost the only man I ever cared for. Life will never be the same without my father. But you can’t understand that, I suppose?’

      ‘Of course I understand,’ Ricardo replied, his tone softening as he leaned forward to take her hand. ‘I know this has been all very unexpected and traumatic for you. But why not make the best of the situation instead of the worst? This is a marriage of convenience, after all. I’m not asking for more than you’re prepared to give—merely for you to comply with what we have both committed to.’

      Gabriella shrugged, swallowed, looked down at his fingers covering hers and suppressed the thrill that rushed up her arm and coursed to the pit of her stomach. How could she tell him that it would be hell to be married to him knowing that he was only doing it for the sake of his word given to a dying man? That he affected her in a way no other man ever had? She shuddered, remembering, as she had more than once over the past weeks, that episode at the waterfall. Slowly she drew her hand away. ‘I’ll think about it.’

      ‘Not for too long, I hope,’ he replied dryly. ‘The month comes to an end in five days. Unless we are married by then you will lose your entire inheritance. I have already put the wedding plans in motion. Your gown is being prepared as we speak, and tomorrow we shall have the first rehearsal. There will be a lot of protocol for you to learn in a very short time. After all, this will be a state occasion.’

      ‘How could you?’ she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. ‘And Papa? He loved me so much—always gave me everything I wanted or asked for. How could he do this to me? Threaten to leave me with nothing if I don’t obey?’

      ‘He is not leaving you with nothing, merely making sure that you are not taken advantage of,’ Ricardo repeated for the umpteenth time. ‘You are a very wealthy young woman, Gabriella.’

      ‘That’s a totally ridiculous, outmoded and chauvinistic way of looking at things,’ she exclaimed. ‘And you,’ she added accusingly, ‘you think just the way he did—that because I’m young and a woman I’m incapable of dealing with my own affairs.’

      ‘Actually, you’re right, I do,’ Ricardo replied coolly, tired of arguing. ‘Have it your own way, Gabriella. But unless you want to remain penniless you had better get used to the idea of being married in three days’ time. Anyway, I have made all the arrangements. The ceremony will take place in the Cathedral of Maldoravia on Thursday afternoon.’

      ‘And what if I refuse?’

      ‘Then you’ll have no choice but to go out into the world on your own, without any visible means of support, and I shall inherit your entire fortune,’ he said bluntly, hoping it would have the right effect.

      ‘Well, that’s fine. If you feel quite happy with that then go ahead. I don’t want the damn money. Take it.’ She jumped up from her seat and glared down at him. ‘I don’t care about the fortune. I’ll go to London and model and make a fortune of my own. I—’

      ‘Gabriella, have you the slightest notion of how many girls try to model, and what the percentage is of those who actually succeed? Not many, I assure you. Now, sit down and stop carrying on like a spoiled brat.’

      ‘I am not a spoiled brat,’ she spat. ‘I have rights.’

      ‘Well, unless you comply with my arrangements—and the terms of your father’s will—as of Saturday morning those rights fly straight out the window,’ he said, in a firm, cold voice that sent shivers down her spine. ‘I assure you, Gabriella, that if you do not behave properly I will not lift one finger to assist you.’

      ‘Oh! How could you?’ she threw at him, trembling, her hair thrown back and her eyes the colour of emeralds. ‘I hate you, Ricardo. I really loathe and detest you.’

      ‘Well, that bodes well,’ he muttered, picking up a financial magazine and leaning back in the wide leather seat while Gabriella stomped off to the other end of the plane to nurse her temper.

      The following couple of days were filled with activity. From the moment she set foot in Maldoravia Gabriella was taken in hand by personal assistants, servants, and Ricardo’s charming aunt, the Contessa Elizabetta. She barely saw Ricardo, but although she felt rather lost and forlorn, she also could not help being excited at all the preparations taking place. There were fittings for her wedding gown, her trousseau, her going-away outfit—all of which she tried hard to seem uninterested in. But her innate sense of and love for fashion made that difficult.

      On Wednesday afternoon she sat with the Contessa and her new personal assistant Sara—an Englishwoman of thirty, who had been hired at the last minute for her efficiency and for the fact that she had worked at Buckingham Palace and at several other royal establishments and knew the ropes. Gabriella had eyed her suspiciously at first, and said that she didn’t need an assistant. But with supreme tact and charm Sara had won her over. Now both the older women exchanged glances and the Contessa raised her brows as Gabriella stared out of the window and for the thousandth time expressed her views.

      ‘It’s just not fair. I don’t know how he can do it. And to say he’d simply inherit my money and be done with it. I mean, can you imagine?’

      ‘I think Ricardo is merely trying to help you, my love,’ the Contessa replied soothingly.

      ‘Well, I don’t care. Sara?’ Gabriella said, turning round to face her assistant, who sat next to the Contessa wearing an elegant beige suit. ‘Don’t you think I could be a success as a model? I mean, look at me. I’m exotic, I’m tall enough, and I have all the right measurements,’ she pleaded.

      ‘Yes. But, you see, the trend at the moment in London is for sylph-like blondes. I’m afraid you might considered a little too…uh…’ Sara searched for a suitable word ‘…too voluptuous. Perhaps in the future your look will return, and then you could consider it. In the meantime, if we could just go over tonight’s seating arrangements?’ she went on, producing a file and flipping through it. ‘I think you would feel more at ease.’

      Gabriella rolled her eyes and flopped into the nearest armchair. ‘You really mean me to marry him, don’t you?’

      ‘Well, my dear, I don’t see what other solution there is,’ the Contessa said kindly, patting her coiffed silver hair with a bejewelled hand. ‘After all, I can think of worse fates than being married to Ricardo.’

      ‘I’m glad you can,’ Gabriella muttered under her breath.

      ‘He’s very handsome—and quite a catch. I can think of all sorts of women who will be wild with jealousy,’ the Contessa replied in an encouraging tone.

      ‘Ah! СКАЧАТЬ