Название: Royal Christmas: Royal Love-Child, Forbidden Marriage
Автор: Кейт Хьюит
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные любовные романы
isbn: 9781408957608
isbn:
‘No, I don’t suppose he could.’ Phoebe reached down to place a dog-eared book in the toy basket. ‘You must have known them quite well, then? Anders … and Leo?’
Frances glanced up quickly, her expression shrewd before she shrugged and nodded. ‘Yes, of course.’
Curiosity bit at Phoebe, made her want to ask questions. To know more, and even to understand. ‘What were they like … together? Were they friends?’
Frances gave a short, derisive laugh. ‘Friends? Those two? Not even for a moment.’
The abruptness and certainty of her answer made Phoebe ask, ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because Anders was frightfully spoiled from the moment he was born. I did the best I could, but his parents doted on him dreadfully. He could do no wrong, and if he did …’ she shrugged ‘ … Leo was blamed.’
‘Leo …?’ Phoebe glanced quickly at Christian, but he was absorbed in a game he was playing quietly with himself at the table, his face smeared with jam. ‘What do you mean?’
Frances sighed. ‘It’s not my place to say, but I can only imagine how difficult your position here must be, and the more information you have …’ She stopped and shrugged again. ‘Nicholas and Havard were brothers. It starts with them, you see. Nicholas hated Havard … he was jealous of him, of course. Everyone loved Havard. He was the younger brother, but I’m sure everyone wished he were the heir instead of Nicholas. He was handsome, charming, kind to everyone, while Nicholas was sour and spiteful. He couldn’t help it, really. He was sickly as a child, pale and thin, while Havard was bursting with health. Or so I’ve been told … he was a husband and father by the time I met him. But it seemed that Nicholas had reason to be jealous, and that jealousy poisoned him.’ Frances put the basket back on the shelf and brushed off her hands. ‘Nicholas married first, a Danish woman, Johanna. She retired to Monaco when Anders abdicated, and died two years ago. But back then it seemed as if they might make a good match, until no children came. For ten years.’ She shook her head. ‘Ten long years. Meanwhile Havard married Ana, an Italian heiress, and had Leo practically nine months later. Nicholas was even more eaten up with jealousy. Everyone could see it, even me. I had been hired by then, to take care of Leo.’
‘But Leo had no chance to be king,’ Phoebe said. ‘As the son of the younger son.’
‘Well, that would be the case, if Nicholas didn’t have any heirs. And Havard probably began to think his son might be king—he actually might be king—if Nicholas remained childless. There were rumours and whispers, as there always are, and no doubt they enraged Nicholas.’
Phoebe couldn’t even imagine the tensions and rivalries that must have poisoned the royal household, the home Leo had grown up in. How had it affected him? Changed him? ‘What happened then?’ she asked in a whisper.
‘Anders was born and Havard died,’ Frances said simply, ‘and everything changed.’
‘How …?’
‘Nicholas had an heir and Leo had nothing. His mother was sent back to Italy post-haste and Leo was treated like the poor relation. It’s no wonder—’ Frances stopped, shaking her head. ‘But I shouldn’t gossip like this, even if you deserve to know.’
Phoebe laid her hand on Frances’s arm. ‘Please,’ she said, ‘tell me.’ She needed to know this history, needed to understand Leo.
Why …?
She couldn’t even say, couldn’t untangle the kaleidoscope of feelings tumbling through her. Fear, of course, was prevalent, but there was also compassion, wonder, hope.
Hope …?
That made no sense.
Phoebe turned back to Frances, who pursed her lips then gave a little shrug. ‘It’s no wonder he went off the rails a bit, that’s all,’ she finally said.
‘The Playboy Prince,’ Phoebe murmured, and Frances nodded.
‘Exactly.’ Christian rose from the table, gleefully holding out his jam-covered hands. ‘Come here, love,’ Frances said, bustling over to him, clearly glad to have a reason to end the conversation with Phoebe. ‘Let’s get you washed off.’
Christian went for a wash off with Frances, and Phoebe was left alone in the nursery with its high sashed windows and pale oak floor. She sank onto a sofa, her mind spinning. She felt she understood Leo so much more now … why he’d been such a playboy, so cynical, and why he’d changed. For he had changed, she thought. The unneeded spare had become the heir, the prince who would be king, and duty rather than desire—a lust for pleasure—drove him now.
Yet could she really think she knew—understood—Leo? She wanted to know him, to trust him, even to like him. She touched her finger to her lips, and knew she wanted more than to like him. Desire, consuming, endless, flooded her.
Yet was it wise—safe—to trust such a man? To desire him? Was Leo truly being kind, or just softening her for the kill? Did he intend to take away her son? Phoebe swallowed back the acid taste of fear. She didn’t, Phoebe realised, really know Leo at all.
‘Mommy!’ Christian came back into the nursery, his face brightening as he turned to the door. ‘Leo!’
Phoebe froze. The room, the whole world seemed to stand still as she turned slowly. Leo stood in the doorway, smiling, natural, and entirely at ease, his relaxed stance starting to dispel her fears of moments before even as her heart rate kicked up at the sight of him. She could almost taste the memory of his lips on hers, inhale his scent …
‘Hello, Christian,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d come and see how you are.’
‘There are lots of toys here,’ Christian told him matter-of-factly, ‘but some of them are old.’
‘Ah.’ Leo’s laughing eyes met Phoebe’s over Christian. ‘Those would be mine.’
Phoebe let out a little bubble of surprised laughter, and Leo smiled back, his eyes so very warm on hers, melting her fears clear away. If only I could stay in the same room with this man, she thought suddenly, and have him smile at me forever.
Strange, when his smile had used to scare her. Years ago it had been so cold, so cruel and callous and calculating. Yet now she basked in the sunlight and warmth of Leo’s smile and wondered how she could have ever doubted that he’d changed. At that moment, it seemed so wonderfully obvious.
‘I thought,’ Leo said, coming farther into the nursery, ‘that you could have dinner in your rooms tonight. Since you’re most likely tired.’
‘I’m not—’ Christian began and Leo’s eyes met Phoebe’s once more.
‘I think,’ he said softly, ‘it would be best.’
Phoebe nodded slowly. ‘Thank you,’ she said slowly. The farther away she stayed from King Nicholas, the better.
‘And tomorrow,’ Leo continued, ‘I thought we’d go ice-skating. Every year a rink is created in Njardvik’s СКАЧАТЬ