‘The chocolate festival,’ he prompted, ‘the one I told you about? It’s usually held in February, but there’s to be a special demonstration in celebration of our marriage. Because of the heat at this time of year it’s taking place inside the grand hall of one of the municipal buildings.’
So, his talk of a chocolate festival hadn’t been a wind-up after all, she realised, feeling a rush of anticipation. ‘I’d love to go.’
‘That’s settled, then,’ he said. ‘We’d better leave right away if we want to catch the best demonstrations.’
When they arrived, Emily was amazed to find the streets of Ferara had been recreated within the cool, vaulted interior of the ancient building, complete with chocolate stalls, chocolate sculptures in various stages of completion, and crowds milling about. There was a ripple of excitement when Alessandro was spotted with his bride-to-be, but after the initial surprise they were able to move around the vast marble-floored exhibition area quite freely. It was Emily’s first real exposure to her new countrymen, and at first she held back a little self-consciously, but Alessandro grabbed her hand, drawing her forward, giving every indication of being proud of his choice of bride.
He was either a very good actor, Emily decided, or—a very good actor, she told herself firmly, knowing how easy it would be to let her imagination get the better of her where Alessandro was involved.
‘Let me get you some chocolate,’ he offered, weaving through the press of people, towing her behind him. He took her to stand beneath one of the towering pillars where an artist was already busy at work, then reached out and caught some of the glossy flakes as they showered down. He began feeding them to her, until Emily had to beg him to stop.
‘Stop? Are you sure?’
‘No,’ Emily admitted, laughing because she was sure her face had to be smeared with chocolate.
To anyone unaware of their tangled relationship they would have passed for two people in love, laughing and enjoying the festival for what it was—an explosion of happiness and goodwill to celebrate the marriage of a man who was clearly much loved by his fellow Ferarans.
Freed from the tensions imposed by their arranged marriage, they actually enjoyed each other’s company, Emily realised, smiling ruefully as she accepted the clean handkerchief Alessandro produced from his pocket.
‘Is there anything else you should have warned me about?’ she probed cheekily. ‘Cream bun fights, perhaps?’ She gazed up at him as she tried to wipe some of the chocolate smears off her face, loving the feeling of closeness that had sprung up between them.
‘I think I can safely promise you one or two more interesting customs throughout your time here.’
Emily’s smile faltered. Trying not to spoil the mood, she shook herself out of the doldrums. ‘Tell me about these different traditions,’ she pressed with another smile.
‘If you haven’t guessed already, our wedding’s a great excuse for giving some of the best a second airing. Everyone in Ferara loves a carnival. You’ll definitely be seeing my country at its best.’
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ she said. And she was, especially if Alessandro was to be her guide.
‘You’re still covered in chocolate,’ he commented as she made another attempt to clean her face.
‘Well, if I am it’s all your fault,’ Emily countered with a laugh that swiftly turned into an uncertain silence.
That remark was the closest she had ever come to flirting with him. And in view of his comment that seemed to remind her of the time limit on her visit, flirting was out. Not only that, but her teasing manner was attracting quite a bit of interest. ‘I must look a mess,’ she said self-consciously.
‘You look lovely,’ Alessandro argued, removing the handkerchief from her hand. Dampening one clean corner with his tongue, he very gently wiped her face for her. ‘There’s—that’s better,’ he declared at last with satisfaction.
Emily fought the urge to stare into his eyes, suddenly terrified that what she might see there would not match her own feelings. ‘I suppose we’d better be getting back.’ She broke free and went to stand some distance away before he had the chance to put distance between them.
This was crazy, Emily realised. When all she wanted was to be with him here she was calling an end to the day almost before it had begun! How had she ever imagined she could throw herself in the path of a man like Alessandro and walk away unscathed? Suddenly she couldn’t wait to get away. The smell of the chocolate, the heat of the crowd and the noise reverberating round the lofty building stabbed at her mind, and she was almost running as she burst out through the imposing double doors that led to the open air. Shielding her eyes against the unforgiving rays of the midday sun, for a moment she was completely disorientated. Starting down the broad sweep of stone steps, she nearly stumbled.
‘Emily! Are you all right?’
The voice was unmistakable—deep, and concerned. Tears sprang to her eyes as he caught hold of her, and she hated herself for the weakness. Somehow she had to get back her pre-Alessandro control, Emily raged inwardly. But she needed his steadying arm to guide her down the steps…
‘It’s hot, and you’ve consumed vast quantities of chocolate,’ Alessandro said soothingly. ‘I think we should take a gentle stroll back to the palace. I’ll organise a light lunch—’
‘Oh, no. I couldn’t eat anything,’ Emily said truthfully, though her lack of appetite was a direct result of the ache in her heart; nothing at all to do with the sunshine or an over-abundance of chocolate.
‘I think for once you’re going to do as I say,’ Alessandro said sternly as he led her carefully down the steps. ‘You almost fell up there. Then what would I have done? I can’t have a wedding without a bride.’
‘I’m sure you’d find someone without too much trouble.’
‘But they wouldn’t be you, would they?’ he said tolerantly.
‘Does that matter?’
‘Yes, it does. So you’re just going to have to humour me. The sun is strong and you’re not used to it. Here, lean on my arm. We’ll take it slowly…walk in the shade. I don’t suppose you’ve eaten properly.’
‘I’ve had lots of chocolate,’ she pointed out mutinously.
‘An unrelieved diet of chocolate might get a little boring, even for you. A light salad, some iced water—’
She hoped he was right. Maybe the heat was getting to her…the heat, and feelings she was sure he didn’t reciprocate. Alessandro was simply making the best out of a difficult situation, she thought, flashing a look up at him…while she was falling in love, she realised with a stab of concern.
Alessandro returned Emily’s troubled glance with a smile and a reassuring squeeze. He had been right to take her out of the heat. He should have anticipated how many people would attend the event, but he had just wanted an excuse to be with her. The chocolate festival had been the perfect opportunity.
Falling in love had been the last thing on his agenda, he realised as they made their way slowly back to the palace. But here, under the centuries-old shade of the cypress trees, the warmth of the sun was like a balm that enveloped them both in its healing rays. If he could have done, he would have willed all the mistrust, all the uncertainty that had tainted their relationship to float away on the light breeze that sighed through the branches over their heads…
Emily was perfect, and the mood of his people was wholly supportive, he realised with pleasure as he courteously returned several greetings. She would make a wonderful first lady: a true equal to stand beside him and care for these people he loved so much. She could hardly wait to make a start on improving the lot of those around her…sharing her own happiness with others. He snatched a look at the woman who in one short week would be his bride. She was deep in thought, but not so preoccupied that she couldn’t take account of every smile that came her way and return it with sincerity. He felt a rush of deep affection for her…something that transcended physical attraction and looped a band of love around his soul.
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He had never once felt like this, Alessandro realised, relishing the simple trust she placed in him, linking her arm through his. The privilege of being allowed to care for her made him happier than he could ever have imagined. It fulfilled him…completed him. Falling in love with Emily was the most natural, the most inevitable step he had ever taken. But if he rushed things he knew he ran the risk of damaging their relationship, perhaps irrevocably. He would have to take things easy…take it slowly, give them both time to get to know each other.
It wasn’t enough that the chemistry between them was almost frightening in its intensity and that every male instinct he possessed insisted he take her straight to his bed. He knew with utter certainty that if he wanted more, he had to wait—
‘D’you know, Alessandro?’
She captured his attention so easily, he realised happily. ‘Tell me,’ he prompted softly.
‘I love Ferara…I love your people…They’re all so friendly, so genuine and so welcoming…’ She hesitated.
‘And?’ he said gently, sensing there was something more she wanted to say.
‘I really think this might work…between us,’ she elaborated awkwardly, though there was no need, Alessandro thought with an inward smile as he drew her a little closer. He had already come to that same conclusion himself, some time ago.
CHAPTER SIX
FOR the next couple of days Emily hardly saw Alessandro, except in passing. But she knew he was swept up in protocol, and fine-tuning their wedding arrangements. Her own family was busy with last-minute preparations, too, so any spare time she had she spent talking to her new friend.
With only one night to go before the wedding, she finally found the courage to ask him more about where he lived. Now that she intended the welfare of the palace staff to be one of her main areas of interest while she was in Ferara, this looked like as good a time as any to make a start. ‘Does it suit you?’
‘Suit me?’ he asked with a wry grimace.
‘I’m sorry,’ Emily said, realising he probably didn’t have much choice. ‘I suppose your accommodation comes with the job.’
His nod of agreement suggested she had hit the mark. Emily decided to press on. ‘Are you comfortable there?’
‘Not bad,’ he agreed, after much thought. ‘Though the kitchens are a long way from my apartment. By the time I get my food it’s usually cold.’
‘Don’t you have your own kitchen?’
‘My own kitchen?’
‘A kitchenette?’ she amended quickly. This new turn in her career was proving to be harder than she had expected. ‘Somewhere to prepare yourself a bite to eat…a drink?’
‘No. Nothing like that,’ he told her, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as he thought about it. ‘Sounds like a good idea, though.’
‘I’m sure I could arrange something for you.’
‘Could you?’
‘Would you let me try?’
‘Only if you agree to give me cookery lessons as well,’ he said, dismissing the idea with a wry grin and a flick of his hand.
‘I’m not thinking of anything very elaborate,’ Emily said encouragingly, ‘just a small fridge, and perhaps a kettle and toaster to start with. If you had those, at least you’d be able to make yourself a quick snack whenever you felt peckish.’
‘Good idea!’ her new friend said enthusiastically. ‘I’ll leave it with you, then.’
‘Excellent,’ Emily said enthusiastically. ‘I’ll let you know what progress I’ve made when I see you tomorrow—’
‘Tomorrow?’
Emily’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘My wedding day—’ Her stomach churned with apprehension. How could time have passed so fast?
‘So, where is your husband-to-be?’
‘Prince Alessandro?’
‘Yes, yes,’ her elderly friend retorted impatiently. ‘My son. Where is he? Why has he left you on your own?’
‘Your—’ Emily’s mouth fell open as the full extent of her blunder overwhelmed her. ‘You didn’t say!’
‘And would you have been so open with me if I had?’ Alessandro’s father demanded as he levelled a shrewd look on her face.
‘Well…I…I don’t know,’ Emily admitted frankly. ‘You must think me a terrible fool—’
‘On the contrary,’ he replied. ‘I think you anything but a fool. My son, however—’
‘Oh, no, please,’ Emily said, shaking her head. ‘You don’t understand—’
‘What don’t I understand?’ the old Prince demanded, straightening up so that even in his gardening clothes Emily could be under no misapprehension as to his status.
‘I…Well…This is not the usual sort of wedding.’
‘You love him?’ he asked her directly.
‘Well, I…’ Emily paused, unsure of what to say.
‘I said,’ he repeated sternly, ‘do you love my son?’
‘Causing trouble again, Father?’
The deep, familiar voice went straight to Emily’s heart.’ Alessandro!’ she exclaimed breathlessly. Who said a prince could descend on you unannounced, wearing snug blue jeans and a close-fitting white top, looking as if he had just climbed out of bed? And his hair was still damp from the shower, she noticed on closer inspection.
‘I see you’ve met my father,’ he said, shooting her a wry grin.
He betrayed nothing of their developing friendship, but, remembering his concern for her after the chocolate festival, Emily felt a shiver of awareness shimmer over every part of her as he moved past her within touching distance. He had been more than tolerant. He had been…As she struggled to find the right word she watched him throw his arms around the older man and kiss him warmly on both cheeks several times before hugging him again. To be the object of such fathomless affection—to be capable of bestowing it—
She looked at Alessandro as if seeing him for the first time, and knew without question that she loved him.
‘Papa! Mi sei mancato!’
His father’s voice was equally fierce as he clutched his son to him. ‘Anche tu, Alessandro. I’ve missed you, too, vagabondo!’
Another hug and they were done, leaving Emily still gaping.
‘You have neglected your bride so badly she has forgotten that tomorrow is her wedding day,’ the old man accused, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. ‘You are a bad boy, Alessandro—neglecting us both like this.’
‘I never neglect you, Papa,’ Alessandro argued, flashing a glance at Emily as he tightened his arm around his father’s shoulder. ‘It’s just that business sometimes—’
His father pressed his lips together in a show of disapproval. ‘Business, business, business,’ he proclaimed with a dismissive gesture. ‘And your bride, Alessandro? What about your bride?’
Emily was forced to laugh as Alessandro executed a deep bow, flashing her a smile as he straightened up. ‘I can only offer you my most humble apologies, Signorina Weston. Whatever punishment you decide to exact, I shall accept without question.’
Don’t tempt me, Emily thought, feeling the effects of his statement reverberate around her senses.
‘Once again,’ Alessandro continued easily, tossing her an amused and comprehending look, ‘I regret that unavoidable matters arose, demanding my immediate attention—’
‘Your bride demands your immediate attention,’ his father broke in sternly. ‘Your wedding is tomorrow, in case you had also forgotten that, Alessandro.’
‘I had not forgotten, Father,’ Alessandro responded softly, glancing at Emily.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Emily insisted, shaking her head to hide her confusion.’ Alessandro is very busy, Your Royal Highness. And I have plenty to occupy me,’ she managed vaguely. ‘I’ll leave you two together—’
‘You will do no such thing,’ the old Prince informed her imperiously. ‘You will stay here with me and talk a while longer. After tomorrow Alessandro may begin the process of taking precedence over me. But today, as far as I am aware, I am still the undisputed
ruler of Ferara, and I wish to talk with my future daughter-in-law. Alone,’ he added pointedly. ‘Make yourself busy somewhere else, Alessandro. Emily and I have much to discuss.’
‘Father,’ Alessandro said, executing a small formal bow. ‘Your wish is my command.’
The wedding had more similarities to a big-budget film than any ceremony Emily had ever attended before. And, in true cinematic fashion, preparations for her starring role began just before dawn, when her private secretary called to inform her that the beauticians and hairdressers had started to arrive.
Breakfast was delivered on a tray with legs, presumably so that she could enjoy her last breakfast as a single woman safely tucked up in bed. But Emily was already out and about when the young maid knocked timidly on the door. Together they decanted the fruit juice and croissants onto a table overlooking the rose garden.
‘You can take the rest away. I shan’t eat it,’ Emily insisted ruefully, scanning the cooked delicacies and plates of cold meats and cheeses, knowing she couldn’t face them. ‘Oh. Leave me an orange,’ she said as an afterthought. She knew they had come from the palace orchard and were absolutely delicious.
‘Yes, signorina,’ the maid said with a courteous bob.
Just as Emily had thought, her simple breakfast proved to be the only oasis of calm in a day that was testing in the extreme. Pulled from pillar to post, she found herself constantly surrounded by strangers all charged with seeking perfection. The unfamiliar attention was daunting, and what made it worse was being treated suddenly as if she was on a higher stratum from everyone else. It made normal conversation impossible.
As her hair was dressed up, ready to hold the weight of the tiara, and the finest film of coral rouge was applied to her cheeks, Emily began to feel increasingly like an inanimate object. No one seemed able to meet her eyes. No one spoke unless she instigated the conversation. And no one seemed prepared to volunteer an opinion on anything, preferring to wait for her to state her own views as if they were the only ones worth listening to. The lack of verbal interplay was driving her crazy. And her nerves were building to crisis level as what had been a theoretical exercise became all too real.
Married By Christmas Bundle: Anthology Page 50
