The queen and Gwen Montague exchanged a look.
“Well, Mr. Cordello,” the queen finally responded. “You’ve deflated our indignation on Amira’s behalf. I think we were both ready to roast you over hot coals.”
Marcus thought he saw a twinkle of amusement in the queen’s eyes. “I think Amira would like to do something much worse,” he said with complete seriousness.
The queen motioned to the grouping of furniture.
Marcus waited until the women were seated, and then he sat on the edge of one of the silk damask chairs that was as uncomfortable as any chair could be. But there was no way to make this conversation comfortable, antique chair or not.
Gwen Montague looked him straight in the eye. “You haven’t known my daughter very long, Mr. Cordello. Am I supposed to believe you care deeply for her after less than two weeks?”
“Amira told me the story of how you and your first husband met at an embassy ball. She said you knew from the moment you looked into his eyes that he was the man you belonged with. It was that way with me and Amira, although I didn’t want to admit it. There are a lot of reasons for that—reasons why I pushed her away at first.”
“I know this might seem a bit indelicate,” Gwen told him, “but Amira seems to think you were only interested in getting her into bed.”
The queen’s brows arched, and a bit of a smile lurked at the corner of her mouth as she saw how uncomfortable Marcus was with discussing this with Amira’s mother.
He deserved this grilling and met it with honesty. “That was my intention. When I asked her to go to Shady Glenn with me, I knew we’d have a week to be together. But I also never tried to take advantage of your daughter, Mrs. Montague. If she’s honest with you, I think she’ll tell you that.”
The queen’s lady-in-waiting paused for a moment. “She did tell me that, but I needed your explanation before I decided if she’d had the wool pulled over her eyes or not.”
“I imagine you’ll have to get to know me before you can make any decisions about my character and my feelings for your daughter. But I am going to ask her to marry me.”
Again the queen and Amira’s mother exchanged a look.
“Amira’s still quite upset,” the queen interjected. “She’s changed since her trip to the United States. She’s talking about moving out of the palace, living on her own. If you’re not the prince, as you hope you’re not, your life in Chicago will remain as it has always been. Would you expect Amira to give up everything she knows here?”
“I’m not sure what we’ll do. We’ll have to work it out…together.”
“Mr. Cordello, I don’t know what Gwen thinks, but I believe you’re an honorable man. Since she’s Amira’s mother, though, it’s up to her to decide whether or not she’ll tell Amira that you’ve come.”
“Is she here now?” he asked, determined to search every room in the palace for her if he had to.
Gwen Montague must have seen that determination in his eyes and maybe some of what he felt for Amira, too. “I have the feeling you’d tear the palace down to find her,” she said, her voice a bit friendly now.
“I would. I know how special she is.”
Silence reigned for a moment.
“All right, Mr. Cordello,” Gwen Montague decided. “I’ll tell you where you can find her. The rest is up to you. She’s having dinner in town at the Artist’s Place. It’s a small café.”
“Yes, she told me about it. They have new artists’ work on display.”
“Yes, it’s one of her favorite spots to go when she wants to think. She just left about half an hour ago, so you should be able to catch her there. Do you need a driver?”
“I asked the cab to wait.” He stood, not knowing if it was proper or not, but wanting to be on his way. “I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet both of you.”
“We’ll need to discuss DNA testing,” the queen reminded him.
“Yes, I know we will. If you want to set something up, that’s fine.”
“Then you will stay at the palace tonight?” the queen asked.
“If that’s what you’d like.”
“That’s what I’d like. No matter how things go with Amira. You might be the next heir, Mr. Cordello. You deserve to be here.”
After he bowed to the queen, he shook Gwen Montague’s hand. “Thank you for being open-minded.”
“Amira’s young but she knows her own mind. I wish you luck, Mr. Cordello.”
“Marcus,” he said automatically.
Gwen nodded. “Marcus.”
The guard escorted Marcus out of the palace the same way he’d come in. As he descended the steps, he realized that these guards probably had stories to tell, but they never would. Their loyalty was obvious in their demeanor.
Marcus gave the cab driver the name of the restaurant and then he tried to organize his thoughts, tried to come up with the best arguments, tried to hope Amira wouldn’t turn him away.
As the cab neared the center of Marleston, he couldn’t help but remember his mother’s inability to forgive his father. He remembered Amira saying when trust is broken it’s hard to repair the damage. He’d broken her trust, and the damage had been great.
In front of the Artist’s Place, he paid the driver and got out of the cab. He decided not to have the man wait. One way or another he’d get back to the palace.
He pulled open a heavy wooden door and stepped inside a dimly lit foyer. The place looked like a quiet pub. Artwork hung on all the walls and sculptures stood on pedestals. The heavy wooden tables were surrounded by black leather barrel chairs. There was a sign on the lectern before the archway that led into the restaurant: Please Seat Yourself. Apparently, Sunday nights were quiet ones here. Only four tables were occupied.
He spotted Amira immediately to the rear of the restaurant at a corner table where the light was the dimmest. Her blond hair reflected it. There was a sandwich before her, but she wasn’t eating. She was just staring at the pictures on the walls. His heart hammered so hard he couldn’t think. He could only feel.
He strode through the room quickly, coming to stand at Amira’s table. “Lady Amira Sierra Corbin?” he asked formally.
At the sound of his voice, her chin came up and her astonishment was evident in her eyes.
“I’d like to introduce myself,” he went on. “My name is Marcus Cordello, and I’m searching for the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. I did something foolish by not revealing to her who I really was as soon as I realized she was looking for me. Once the die was cast, I didn’t know how to turn it around.”
Dropping the formality, he spoke from his heart. “I wanted that week at Shady Glenn with you in case I never saw you again. But when you left, the idea of never seeing you again was intolerable.” He went down on one knee beside her, “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to take advantage of you. I never meant to fall deeply in love with you, but I did.” Dipping his hand into his pocket, he brought out the small black box. “If you agree to marry me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making up to you for my deception. I promise you I will never tell you anything that isn’t true again. I love you, Amira. I can’t imagine my life without your laughter, your sincerity, your compassion. Will you honor me by becoming my wife?”
Amira looked absolutely stunned. She stared down at the ring in the box. It was a large heart-shaped diamond with smaller diamonds swirled on either side. It was a ring fit for a princess…a ring fit for the woman he loved as much as life.
Finally she looked up at him with tears slipping down her cheeks. “Marcus?”
“What, sweetheart?” he asked gently.
“I was just trying out your name. It fits.”
His pulse was racing fast and hope seemed to overtake his whole heart. “Can we see if the ring fits, too?”
Taking it out of the box, he slipped it onto her finger. Looking up at her again, he asked, “Can you forgive me?”
“I forgive you, Marcus. I love you.” And then she w
as in his arms. They were both standing, and he was kissing her with all the love and fervor and commitment that he couldn’t give her before.
The kiss went on and on and on until there was applause from other patrons in the restaurant.
Marcus lifted his head, hoping Amira wasn’t too embarrassed. “I should have done this privately,” he murmured. But I couldn’t wait.”
“I’m glad you didn’t wait,” she managed shakily.
Pulling his chair close to hers, he sat down beside her, holding her hand. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I know what kind of man you are.”
He winced at that.
“Although, when I found out who you were,” she continued, “I felt betrayed and disappointed and didn’t know if anything we’d experienced was real. I didn’t know how I was going to ever see you, look at you again, if you came here to get the prince dilemma straightened out. I had decided to fly to Paris and enroll in school there. But tonight, sitting here, I realized that would be running away, and I didn’t want to run away from you. I was going to stay here until you came to Penwyck, and then I would find out if you felt anything for me or if my imagination had just gone wild.”
She was beautiful and courageous…and his. “Your imagination didn’t go wild. I began falling in love with you from that first night. Sure I felt desire and I wanted you in my bed. But I wanted so much more and didn’t even realize it. As each day passed and I thought about you leaving, I grabbed on to whatever we could have.”
“Before I left Shady Glenn, your father admitted he’d just told you that you were adopted. That must have been a shock. What will happen if you are the prince?” she asked, gazing down at her ring and looking back up at him. “I know you don’t want that. I know—”
“The queen asked me what I’d do if I wasn’t the prince and you accepted my proposal. She wanted to know if I expected you to turn your life upside down for me. I don’t have all the answers, Amira. I don’t know how I’ll feel if I am the prince. But I do know that I love you and that I want your happiness as much as mine. I told her we’d work everything out together.”
Amira’s hand came up to his jaw then, and she stroked it with her fingers. “You’re right. We’ll work everything out…together.”
Then, unmindful whether anyone else was watching or not, they kissed again. This time they weren’t interrupted by applause. This time the kiss went on much longer until finally they both needed to come up for air.
After their lips clung and they drew apart, Marcus gave a wry shake of his head. “How soon can we get married?”
“A few weeks maybe?” she asked.
“Is that enough time for you to plan a fairy-tale wedding?” He imagined that’s what she would want, and he could see from the light shining in her eyes that he was right.
“My mother and the queen can do wonders. It will be enough time.”
“Good. I don’t think I could last more than a few weeks without really making you mine.”
“You can do that tonight,” she said from a new boldness that came from a confidence in what they were together.
But he shook his head. “No, I want to do this right. You’ll be giving me a wonderful gift, and I want to give it the respect it deserves, the respect you deserve.”
She threw her arms around his neck and tilted her forehead against his. “No matter what the DNA testing shows, you are a prince. You’re my prince.”
Marcus knew he would do everything in his power to live up to her faith in him. “I love you,” he said again, wanting to make sure she knew it.
In a few weeks he would pledge his heart and soul and life to her and she to him. Whatever life brought, they’d face it together—hand in hand, heart in heart. They would love and cherish each other…forever.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Karen Rose Smith for her contribution to the CROWN AND GLORY series.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5842-0
SEARCHING FOR HER PRINCE
Copyright © 2002 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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Searching For Her Prince Page 15
