Tris reached up and covered her hand with his. ‘Let me see what I can do; maybe two weeks isn’t impossible if I move some things around.’
Amber squeezed his hand in relief. ‘Thank you, Tris. I know I’m not the only one trying to work out the right thing to do here. I do appreciate everything you’re trying to do, I really do.’ She turned her hand and threaded her fingers through his, his clasp warm and strong and comforting.
Amber had no doubt that Tris would try his hardest to be supportive and to make her feel that she belonged in his world. She also suspected that he was beginning to care for her, Amber Blakeley, not just the mother of his unborn baby. But was that enough? Once they were safely married, once the baby was here, would duty dominate his life as it had done in the past, leaving her just a few scraps of his attention? Amber didn’t need a man to dance attendance on her all the time, but neither did she want the kind of marriage where she felt she’d be better off alone. She’d seen what was possible in a partnership of equals; could she really settle for less? But sitting here, her hand in Tris’s, the sun warm upon her face, she had hope for the first time in months that things might just work out the way she hoped.
* * *
Tris stood in the small private courtyard and watched the car containing Amber, and with her all his hopes, disappear out of the discreet side entrance. In less than an hour she would be on a private flight back to London, not returning for a couple of days. If at all. There was nothing compelling her to come back, just her promise.
‘You should have gone with her,’ Elisabetta said softly, coming to stand beside him. ‘That’s your baby too. Or she could have had the scan here.’ Tris had finally, with Amber’s permission, told his sister about the pregnancy the day before, upon the promise of the utmost secrecy. She’d been delighted, if more than a little confused. No wonder when she’d seen the awkwardness between them, the constrained silences as they sought to understand the other better, although the week since his bakery lesson—and the kisses they had shared—had been different. There had been no repeat of the kisses or of the lesson, but there had been an ease which was as welcome as it was new.
‘There’s no way we could keep the pregnancy private if she had the scan here, you know that. And she wanted to be in London, with her friends. They mean a lot to her, they’re her family.’ Tris completely understood Amber’s reasoning, the common sense part of him agreed with her, but there was another part of him that wished she wanted him there; he couldn’t imagine how it would feel to see a glimpse of the baby for the first time, for them to experience that moment together.
Elisabetta shot him a quick glance. ‘You’re her family too. No matter what happens next, being parents will bind you.’
‘Like it bound our parents?’ Tris said more bitterly than he meant to, and his sister looped her arm through his.
‘No, because you are better than that. Our father failed when he tried to turn you into a carbon copy of him, thank goodness, and Amber has more optimism, more independence than Mama ever did. She’ll find her path no matter what—her life so far is proof of that. Leaving New York with less than a thousand dollars in her pocket at just eighteen to start a new life in a new country? That takes a lot of grit, Tris.’
‘She should never have had to leave like that. I should never have agreed to our uncle’s proposal. But I knew it was what Father would have wanted. Pathetic, isn’t it, trying to make a dead man happy? Especially as I never really managed it when he was alive.’
‘He was proud of you, Tris, I genuinely believe that; he just had no idea how to show it. You were a good son, just like you are a good brother and I know you will be a wonderful father.’
Tris didn’t answer, his eyes still fixed on the spot where the car had disappeared. A father. It was strange, but he hadn’t really thought about what that meant before. Oh, he had thought about the throne and cementing his position as King, thought about marriage to the woman who had eluded him for so long, but not about the reality of what being a father meant. Not about an actual baby who would need to be cared for, held and rocked and changed and fed. A small child who would need to be played with and taught right from wrong. An older child with opinions and likes different to his own. A combination of Amber and him, maybe with her hair and his eyes, her smile and exuberant sweetness or his diffidence and reserve. Excitement and panic filled him in equal measure. There was so much at stake, so much scope to get things wrong. How did anyone feel fit to embark on parenthood, with all its mishaps and pitfalls?
‘How do you know that?’ He turned to face his sister. ‘What if I get it wrong? I’m too strict? Always too busy? Expect too much? Show my disappointment?’
What if he or she doesn’t love me?
He couldn’t say the last words but Elisabetta must have sensed them because she wrapped her arms around him in a brief hug before stepping back with a warm smile.
‘The very fact you are asking these questions shows what a wonderful father you’ll be. I bet our father never once doubted himself, never once wondered if he was making a mistake. Keep wondering, Tris, keep questioning, keep listening—and, most importantly, keep loving and you will do just fine.’
Keep loving.
It sounded so easy, but Tris knew how hard that could be—and knew how dark the consequences of a loveless childhood could be. Things would be different, he vowed. Whatever Amber decided, he would love their baby, make sure it knew how much it was wanted, how special it was. No matter what.
CHAPTER TWELVE
TRIS’S HANDS TIGHTENED on the steering wheel as he navigated his car around a tight bend. On one side a sheer wall of rock rose dizzyingly into the heights above them, on the other an even more sheer drop fell straight into the valley below. This drive was not for the faint-hearted, but Amber didn’t seem afraid; she’d wound the window down and the wind ruffled her hair as she looked out at the countryside spread before her.
This was the wilder, more remote side of Elsornia, an area where few foreign tourists ventured, where villages were few and far between and sheep and goats outnumbered people. Down in the valley the forests spread as far as the eye could see, although Tris knew that another bend in the road would reveal the lake that was their destination.
It was years since he’d last driven along this road, years since he’d been to the villa his mother had retreated to as her marriage broke down, to raise his sisters. He knew the price of that separation was leaving him behind; knowing he’d have chosen to stay didn’t make the pain of that choice any easier to forget.
His grip tightened further. Not for the first time, he questioned his decision to bring Amber to the place which provoked such conflicting feelings in him. But he’d prevaricated enough. Amber needed to know more of him, and the villa by the lake was the only place he had ever allowed himself to feel free. As soon as she’d asked him to take her somewhere special, he’d known this was the only possible destination.
Tris glanced quickly at Amber as she leaned into the breeze, her gaze still fixed on the distant horizon. ‘You’re sure you’re not queasy?’
Despite his attempt to remain nonchalant, a thrill ran through him as he awaited her answer. She looked exactly the same, not an ounce heavier yet, but everything had changed nonetheless. She’d barely greeted him at the private airfield before she handed him a small, fuzzy black and white photo of something that looked like a cross between an alien and a tadpole. Their baby. Staring down at the indistinct image, Tris had experienced emotion like he’d never felt before, pure, overwhelming and all-encompassing, a knowledge that he’d do anything, sacrifice everything to keep this tiny, vulnerable hope and the woman who bore it safe.
‘I’m fine,’ Amber said, leaning back in her seat. ‘I’m officially past the first three months now so hopefully I’ve avoided all queasiness. Apparently this is when I get lots of energy.’
Tris couldn’t stop the w
ry smile curling his mouth. ‘So the last few weeks you’ve been lacking in energy? Was that when you insisted on learning that country dance at the school, or was it when you walked up to the glacier and refused the lift back down? You did look weary when we finally finished washing up after your mammoth baking session, but you are the one who thought eleven p.m. was a good time to start making cakes.’
‘Any time is a good time for baking,’ Amber said with dignity. ‘Have I taught you nothing?’
Tris didn’t reply, the next hairpin bend needing all his concentration, but despite the difficult roads he was aware that for the first time in a really long time he was actually relaxed. More than that, he was happy. Waiting at the airfield, he’d been fully prepared for the news that Amber had changed her mind, that she’d decided to stay in London and continue her pregnancy there. But it hadn’t just been relief he’d felt when he saw her disembark from the plane; it had been joy. Not because of the child she carried, but because she’d returned. Returned to give him a second chance. He couldn’t—mustn’t—blow it.
He’d missed her while she’d been away. Missed the way she hummed as she busied herself, her bright, cheery conversation. Missed the way she drew him out, until he found himself opening up, surprising himself. Somehow, over the last two weeks, she’d got under his skin. Tris had no idea what that meant for their future, but he knew he had to do his utmost to make sure the next two weeks were everything she needed to make a decision to stay.
‘Do you mind if I put some music on?’ Without waiting for his assent, Amber pulled out her phone and connected it to the car’s Bluetooth. ‘I’d ask you what you wanted, but after the other night I realised that you need a little bit of educating. A lot of educating if I want to be brutally honest rather than diplomatic. Baking obviously, films absolutely, books without a doubt and, most importantly of all, music. Music is good for the soul whether it’s classical, pop, reggae or R&B, so I put together a playlist. It’s a little eclectic, but I wanted to cover as many bases as possible. Okay, your education starts here...’
The sound of a piano filled the car, soon joined by a soaring soprano voice, followed by a thumping dance track and then an upbeat musical number. Amber hadn’t been kidding when she said her playlist was eclectic, but Tris didn’t care what the music was. He was just absurdly touched that in the short time she’d been away she’d spent thought and effort putting together a playlist just for him.
In no time at all they started the descent down the mountain to the huge lake which made this part of Elsornia a popular holiday destination. One or two villages turned into fashionable resorts during the summer months, with swimming areas and plentiful berths for boats along the shoreline, but most of it remained unspoilt.
When Tris was small, the lake had been the royal family’s favourite summer vacation spot, but after his mother moved permanently to their holiday home his father stayed away, allowing Tris just a month there every summer. He’d worked hard not to envy his sisters growing up in the relative freedom of the countryside, away from castle politics and the prying eyes of the media, spending their term times at boarding school and the holidays with their mother, but there had been times when the contrast between their carefree childhood and his own was too stark and he hadn’t returned here since his mother had left, ten years before.
‘This is absolutely gorgeous.’ Amber stared out of the window like a child looking for the sea. ‘The lake is so blue. I don’t think I’ve ever seen water that colour before.’
‘Legend says it’s so blue because when Hera found out about Zeus’s affair with Europa she flew off in anger until she reached this valley. The trees sheltered her from the other gods’ view and so she allowed her tears of humiliation and rage and sadness to flow. Of course, Zeus was known for his affairs and there were a lot of tears when she started to shed them. So many that she flooded half the valley with her melancholy.’
‘I can’t decide if that’s a beautiful tale or just a really sad one,’ Amber said. ‘I suppose creating a lake was a better thing to do than torturing some poor girl who had no choice once Zeus had decided to turn into a ball or a swan or shower of gold, whatever shenanigans he decided upon that time. I always thought it really unfair that the goddesses went around punishing the poor women when it was the gods who did the preying.’
‘You know your mythology.’
‘I can thank my dad for that; he loved Greek myths. He used to read them to me every night. The children’s version at first, then his favourite translations of Ovid, the Iliad, the Odyssey. We were about to move on to the Aeneid when he died. I’ve still never read it; I didn’t have the heart somehow. Maybe one day I’ll read it to our baby.’ Her voice was wistful, and she blinked a couple of times before turning back to look out of the window.
Tris wanted to say something comforting, something wise, but couldn’t find the words so he drove instead, after a while humming along a little to the music until Amber laughed at his attempts to follow the tune. In no time at all they were on the lakeside road leading to the villa. It was all so achingly familiar. Trees lined the road on one side, the lake glinted in the late spring sun on the other. A few boats bobbed up and down on the water, birds circling overhead, occasionally diving into the blue depths and emerging triumphantly, something silver glittering in their beaks.
Amber was transfixed. ‘Can you swim in the lake?’
‘You can, but it’s fed from the mountains so only the hardiest souls venture in before the summer. And it’s never exactly warm even then, but the outside temperature can get so hot that no one cares.’
‘I love to wild swim,’ Amber said dreamily. ‘Sometimes in London I go to the pond on Hampstead Heath or the Serpentine Lido but it’s not the same as really wild swimming. I’d like to come back here when it’s warm enough.’ Her words warmed him. In spite of the memories the lake held, maybe because of them, Tris had known it was the right place to bring her. The right place to see if the liking and understanding so slowly growing between them could become something more permanent.
They drove on through several villages, the first two full of second homes owned by wealthy Elsornian families, filled with fashionable restaurants and bistros and plenty of expensive shops. The next village along was less well-to-do but a great deal more charming with its neighbourhood cafés and small tavernas. Amber exclaimed in delight as they passed through it, proclaiming her intention to return and sample cakes from the bakery on the high street. As they drove out, the road began to snake away from the lakeside, skirting round a tall metal fence. A few hundred yards later Tris turned in at a pair of huge iron gates which swung open at his approach.
‘I know you asked for us to spend time alone,’ he said as he eased the car along the driveway. ‘I can’t quite give you that, but I can promise you no officials or secretaries or aides. We employ several local people here—gardeners, maids, people to look after the villa—but they live out. There will always be a handful of bodyguards around, I couldn’t lose those if I tried, but they’re trained to be discreet. You shouldn’t even notice they are here.’
‘Thank you,’ Amber said. She touched his arm, the ease of the gesture warming him through. ‘I really appreciate all the effort you’ve gone to.’
Just a few moments later they were inside the pretty white villa. It was a complete contrast to the thick-walled stone medieval castle where Tris had been brought up and now lived. Built on graceful Italianate lines, the rooms were light-filled and airy, tiled floors and high ceilings offering respite from the hot summers, whilst large stoves in every room ensured warmth in the brief but cold winter months. Elegantly furnished in shades of blue, it was an inviting space, enhanced by breathtaking views from the floor-to-ceiling windows which ran along the whole back wall of the house, looking out onto the lake.
‘Privacy glass and bullet-proof,’ Tris informed Amber as she exclaimed in delight. ‘The royal guard h
ad a fit when we first started coming here; they said that anyone could just zoom in from the lake.’
‘They have a point, I suppose.’ Amber stared out at the lake. ‘Is it likely?’
‘I doubt it. A large area of the lake is a no-go zone and anyone who enters it is immediately accosted. Guards are stationed at checkpoints whenever the family is resident and there’s a panic room in the basement, so don’t worry. The truth is Elsornia has always been fairly stable; even at the end of the nineteenth century when most small kingdoms were hotbeds of revolutionaries, we only had a few half-hearted attempts. From what I can tell, our firebrands were more interested in cryptic passwords and hosting meetings than actually overthrowing the government. We managed to ride out the period between the Wars and post-war turbulence with nothing more than some fiery speeches and the odd badly attended parade.’
‘I don’t know much about when my family left Belravia,’ Amber said, turning away from the window and walking over to look at a landscape on the wall, ‘but it must have been terrifying. My grandfather was only a tiny baby and he had to be smuggled out—they would have shot him if they’d found him. I’ve never understood why he was so keen to go back after that experience.’
‘If he hadn’t left then he would have had to go when the Soviets moved in. All that area became part of the Soviet Union. I think your father was very sensible, moving on the way he did.’
‘Wise and more than a little relieved. He hated bureaucracy and meetings. I think he’d have been a terrible king, found it all too tedious.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘Are you ever bored?’
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