Cinderella's Secret Royal Fling. Jessica Gilmore

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СКАЧАТЬ she eventually calls home.’ Bella’s mother, Simone, was a different story; she had made several comments linking Laurent and her daughter during his two visits to the family estate and taken every opportunity to throw them together. Laurent had no doubt that she was hoping for exactly this outcome—and that with a proposal would come her complete backing for Clay Industries’ investment in Armaria.

      ‘And the young lady herself. Does she seem to like you, Laurent? Will she welcome a proposal after so short an acquaintance? Can you be happy with her?’

      They were three very different questions.

      ‘I will be happy watching Armaria prosper,’ he said at last. ‘As for Bella Clayton... I do not believe a proposal will be either a surprise, or unwelcome. She’s twenty-seven and has been raised with an expectation of a place in society. Life here would not be the kind of shock it might be for someone from a different kind of background.’

      ‘Well, then,’ his mother said after a pause. ‘In that case I look forward to meeting her—and her family. When are you hoping that they will arrive?’

      ‘A few days before the ball.’ Walking over to the desk, he unearthed the invitation he had been looking at earlier and handed it to his mother. ‘I had this mocked up earlier. Once we’re happy with the design we’ll get them sent out, so get your secretary to send mine the list of everyone you would like to invite by the end of the week. I know the timing is tight, but this is the first royal ball held at the castle for two decades. I don’t think any guests will worry too much about prior plans, do you? And, hopefully, by the end of the summer Armaria will have both new investment and a new Archduchess.’

      His mother looked around the library, lips pursed. ‘I’ll also make a list of all the work that needs doing between now and then. It will have to be all hands on deck if we are going to open the castle up to hundreds of guests.’

      ‘I’m happy to wield a paintbrush if it gets the job done. Thank you. Don’t worry about the ball itself, Maman. Simone Clayton has recommended an events planner and, all being well, she should be starting at the weekend.’ He hesitated. ‘Obviously, I expect to cover all costs, as the host, but the Claytons do have some additions they’d like to make to the traditional plans—and of course they have their own list of guests to invite. As a result, they are insisting on paying for the event planner, their guests and for the cost of any of their extra requirements. I did my best to dissuade them, as you can imagine, but they were adamant.’ Laurent’s mouth thinned. His country, his castle, his responsibility. But he was supposed to be wooing Mike Clayton—and his daughter—not arguing with them, and in the end gracious capitulation was the only option.

      ‘I see. Are you sure, Laurent? Sure that this girl will make you happy?’

      Laurent merely bowed in answer. ‘I know exactly what I’m doing, both for myself and for Armaria.’

      For Laurent knew there was no real difference. He was the Archduke and with the title came responsibility for every man, woman and child, every meadow and mountain. He had never wasted any time wishing things were different; what was the point? His focus had to be on the future—and now his plans were finally coming to fruition. What was the point of might-have-beens and if-onlys? Bella Clayton was attractive, pleasant, well brought up and well connected—and the heir to a company with the capacity to change Armaria’s fortunes. If she was prepared to grant him those assets in return for a title then he was a fortunate man indeed.

      * * *

      Emilia Clayton leaned back in her chair and managed to summon up a professional almost-smile as she regarded her stepmother across the vintage desk.

      ‘You didn’t have to make an appointment to see me, Simone.’ Only both women knew that was a lie. Emilia did everything she could to avoid her father’s family. She was sure they were as relieved as she was when she excused herself from dinners and birthdays. Which was why Simone’s presence in her office was such a surprise, and not one of the pleasant variety. Just the sight of her stepmother made it hard for Emilia to be the quiet, controlled professional woman she had grown into, the memory of the rebellious teen with more anger than she could control shuddering through every nerve and vein. She shoved the memories back and maintained her smile.

      Simone’s almost-smile was as faux genuine as Emilia’s own. ‘You didn’t reply to your father’s last texts. An official appointment seemed like the only way to actually guarantee getting hold of you.’

      ‘If I’d known it was so urgent I would have made the time. But I’ve been busy. As you can see.’ Emilia kept her tone light but something in her chest twisted as she spoke. Was her father ill? His texts had been so non-committal, the usual wishy-washy hopes that she was well and that he would see her at some unspecified point soon. The same messages he’d been sending her for the last decade—when he remembered. Nondescript, impersonal, a salve to his conscience.

      Probably exactly what she deserved.

      ‘I’d heard you started your own business. This is all very quaint.’ Her stepmother looked around the spacious office space, with its soothing tones of white and grey and vibrant pictures and soft furnishings, with an air that strongly hinted that quaint was the most neutral word she could come up with. ‘I have to say, Emilia, I was very surprised to hear that you were living in Chelsea.’ The slight emphasis on ‘you’ conveyed myriad meanings, each one suggesting that Emilia was not the kind of person who belonged in the once bohemian, now rarefied borough.

      ‘No one was more surprised than me, but this is where our agency is based.’ The truth was, Chelsea was the last place Emilia would have chosen if she had had a choice. She hadn’t ventured to this part of West London since finally leaving home for good at just sixteen; it was far too close to her father’s Kensington apartment and there were unwelcome memories around every corner. But when her colleague and friend, Alexandra, had inherited an old townhouse in a beautiful tree-lined street in the heart of the old Chelsea village, it had been the catalyst for the two of them, along with their friends Amber and Harriet, to quit their day jobs and leave their rented rooms in far flung parts of London for the heart of West London.

      ‘Yes, the Happy Ever After Agency. How whimsical.’

      ‘We guarantee happy clients. Speaking of which, is this a business appointment, Simone, or did you just want to catch up? Only we are rather busy.’

      Simone raised one eyebrow ever so slightly, her only comment on Emilia’s manners. Emilia had never been able to rile her stepmother, no matter how hard she tried. And she had tried. Truth was, Simone had never cared enough about her for her behaviour to really matter, each act of bad behaviour and rudeness an inconvenience rather than a shock. ‘Lady Jane Winspear was highly complimentary about the party you organised for her.’

      Emilia kept the half-smile in place to hide her confusion. The party in question had been for a pair of particularly spoiled twins. In her opinion, Bella, her stepsister, was equally spoiled but somewhat past the age of unicorn rides and carousels. ‘That’s good to hear.’

      ‘So when I needed an event planner with immediate effect, I of course thought of you. My way of helping out your little enterprise. I know you’re too proud to accept help but I hope you wouldn’t be silly enough to turn down paying work.’

      Emilia curled her hands into fists under the desk. She had made it clear years ago that she neither wanted or needed anything from her father or his new family. But, although the Happy Ever After Agency was doing well, turning down work would be a foolish move, especially from people as well connected as her father and stepmother. ‘You want to hire me?’

      ‘That’s СКАЧАТЬ