The Wedding Party And Holiday Escapes Ultimate Collection. Кейт Хьюит

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СКАЧАТЬ brunch with my delightful mother as well as my sister and my brother and his wife. An appearance on the balcony for the adoring crowds.’

      He spoke with a cynicism she didn’t really understand, although she could probably guess at. ‘You don’t like being royal,’ she said, ‘do you?’

      He sighed and dropped his hands. ‘Not particularly. But hadn’t you already figured that out, since I shirked my royal duty for fifteen years?’ His gaze met hers then, and instead of anger she saw recrimination. She recognised it, because she’d felt it so often herself.

      ‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘Why, Liana.’ He touched her chin with his fingers, tilting her face so their gazes met once more. ‘I don’t think you’ve ever apologised to me before. Not sincerely.’

      ‘I am sorry,’ she answered. Her chin tingled where he touched her. ‘I was just trying to hurt you, so I said the first thing that came to mind.’

      ‘Well, there was truth in it, wasn’t there?’ His voice came out bitter and he dropped his hand from her face. ‘I did shirk my duty. I ran away.’

      And she knew all too well how guilt over a mistake, a wrong choice, ate and ate at you until there was nothing left. Until your only recourse was to cut yourself off from everything because numbness was better than pain. Was that how Sandro felt? Did they actually have something—something so fundamental to their selves—in common?

      ‘But you came back,’ she said quietly. ‘You’ve made it better.’

      ‘Trying to.’ He threw off the covers and rose from the bed. ‘But we should get ready. We have a full day ahead of us.’

      He was pulling away from her, she knew. They’d had a surprising moment of closeness there, a closeness that had intrigued her rather than frightened her. And now it was Sandro was who shuttering his expression, and she felt a frustration that was foreign to her because she was usually the one who was pulling away. Hiding herself.

      So maybe this was why Sandro had been feeling so frustrated. It was hard to be on the receiving end of someone’s reticence—especially when you actually wanted something else. Something more.

      ‘Where are we meant to get ready?’ she asked. ‘I’ve only got my wedding dress or this nightgown here.’

      Sandro pushed a discreet button hidden in the woodwork of the wall. ‘One of your staff will show you to your room,’ he said and turned away.

      A few minutes later a shy young woman named Maria came to the honeymoon suite and showed Liana her own bedroom, a room, judging from its frilly, feminine décor, Sandro clearly wouldn’t share.

      So this was what a marriage of convenience looked like, Liana thought, and wondered why she didn’t feel happier. Safer. She’d have her own space. Sandro would leave her alone. All things she’d wanted.

      Yet in that moment, standing amidst the fussy little tables and pink canopied bed, she wasn’t quite so sure she wanted them anymore. They didn’t feel as comforting as she’d expected.

      Maybe she was just tired. Feeling more vulnerable from everything she and Sandro had said and shared last night. The memory of his hands gently stroking her from shoulder to thigh still had the power to make her quiver.

      Enough. It was time to do the work she’d come here to do, to be queen. To remember her duty to her parents, to her sister, to everything she’d made her life about.

      And not think about Sandro, and the confusion of her marriage.

      An hour later she was showered and dressed in a modest dress of lavender silk, high necked and belted at the waist. She’d pulled her hair back into its usual tight chignon and then frowned at her reflection, remembering what Sandro had said.

      I would like to see you with your hair cascading over your shoulders. Your lips rosy and parted, your face flushed.

      For a second she thought about undoing her hair. Putting some blusher on her cheeks. Then her frown deepened and she turned away from the mirror. She looked fine.

      Downstairs, the royal family had assembled in an opulent dining room for the official brunch. And it felt official, far from a family meal. A dozen footmen were stationed around the room, and the dishes were all gold plate.

      The queen dowager glided into the room, her eyes narrowed, her mouth pursed, everything about her haughty and distant.

      Was that how Sandro saw her? Icy and remote, even arrogant? Liana felt herself inwardly cringe. She’d never considered how others saw her; she’d just not wanted to be seen. Really seen. The woman underneath the ice. The girl still trying to make herself invisible, to apologise for her existence.

      Sophia went to the head of the table and Sandro moved to the other end. A footman showed Liana her place, on the side, and for a second she hesitated.

      As queen, her place was where Sophia now sat, eyeing everyone coldly. Clearly the queen dowager did not want to give up her rights and privileges as monarch, and Liana wasn’t about to make a fuss about where she sat at the table. She never made a fuss.

      And yet somehow it hurt, because she realised she wanted Sandro to notice where she sat. Notice her, and put her in her rightful place.

      He didn’t even look at her, and Liana didn’t think she was imagining the triumph glittering in her mother-in-law’s eyes as she sat down.

      Sandro excused himself directly after the brunch, and Liana hadn’t had so much as two words of conversation with him. They were meant to appear on the palace balcony at four o’clock, and she had a meeting with her secretary—someone already appointed and whom she hadn’t met—at three.

      And until then? She’d wander around the palace and wonder yet again just what she was doing here. What had brought her to this place.

      Most of the palace’s ground floor was made up of formal receiving rooms much like the one she’d first met Sandro in. Liana wandered through them, sunlight dappling the marble floors. As she stood in the centre of one room, feeling as lost and lonely as she ever had and annoyed that she did, she heard a voice from behind her.

      ‘Hello.’

      She turned to see Alyse standing in the doorway, looking lovely and vibrant and full of purpose. She’d changed from her more formal outfit for brunch, and now wore a pair of jeans and a cashmere sweater in bright pink. Liana suddenly felt absurd and matronly in her high-necked dress and tightly coiled hair. She fiddled with the pearls at her throat, managed a smile.

      ‘Hello.’

      ‘Did you have a good night?’ A blush touched Alyse’s cheeks. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean that— Well.’ She laughed and stepped into the room. ‘I was only asking if you’d slept well.’

      ‘Very well, thank you,’ Liana answered automatically, and Alyse cocked her head.

      ‘You look tired,’ she said, her voice filled with sympathy. ‘It’s so overwhelming, isn’t it—marrying into royalty?’

      ‘It’s been a lot to take in,’ Liana answered carefully. She СКАЧАТЬ