Edouardo said nothing, but maneuvered his way through the gathering crowds toward the rails as the race was about to start. Soon the thunder of hooves pulsed through the very ground at their feet as horses galloped at full speed down the track. Alastair had worked past the throng of people to join Edouardo by his side, cheering loudly for a horse belonging to a dear friend of his. As the horses crossed the finish line, Alastair gave him one more chance.
“So may I have your blessing to marry you mother?”
Edouardo’s brows furrowed so deeply he could have planted a row of seeds from his garden in there. He shook his head. “Sorry, Alastair. But I can’t be part of this.”
With that he turned on his heels, leaving Alastair alone.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Champagne?” Lady Charlotte said, offering a flute to Gabriella and grabbing one herself from a passing waiter. “To life,” she said, tipping her glass to Gab’s.
“A perfect thing to toast to,” Gabriella said.
“Yes, well, I’m feeling I’ve had a new lease on it of late,” Edouardo’s mother said.
Gab frowned. “Must be impossibly hard, losing the love of your life as you did. I remember when my nonno passed away, my nonna was despondent. And he had lived a long life. It wasn’t a huge surprise when we lost him as it must have been for you.”
“It’s hard to describe,” Charlotte said. “And was harder still to have to be strong for my children as they faced this great loss as well.”
“Some worse than others,” Gab said.
She shrugged. “My Edouardo was always the sensitive one,” she said. “As a boy he cried at the end of sad stories I read him. He stomped around the house in a rage for hours when he found out about the Velveteen Rabbit’s fate.”
“No wonder,” Gab said with a laugh. “That was horrifying. Poor bunny.”
“I should’ve known better than to read that one to him,” she said. “Much as I should have known better than to expect he would be all right with Alastair and me as a couple.”
Gab shook her head. “I don’t know what is wrong with Edouardo about that. Well, I do know and I can understand it. But he’s a grown man and it’s time he accepts that you are also entitled to be happy again.
“For what it’s worth,” she added, “I think it’s romantic.”
Charlotte smiled. “It is sort of, isn’t it?” She nodded at Gabriella. “And you, my dear. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you entered my son’s life. I’ve not seen him this happy in ages.”
Gab took a sip of champagne as they maneuvered through the crowd—and those treacherous enormous hats!—to get closer to the rail where they would watch the race.
“I’m pleased that he’s so happy,” Gab said. “I’m over the moon for him as well.”
“You’re good for him, you know.”
Gab could feel her cheeks flushing pink. Nothing weirder than talking about your boyfriend with your boyfriend’s mother. Even if she was a really nice woman. What do you say to that sort of thing? “Thanks.” Then she quickly diverted the conversation away from herself. “So, you and Uncle Alastair? You’re planning to be married?”
It was Charlotte’s turn to blush. “Well, I barely know the man,” she said, her pewter eyes twinkling. “And what about the children?”
Gabriella rolled her eyes. “Surely the two of you don’t want more of them!” she said with a laugh. “I’m sure you meant to say ‘what about the child.’ Because I’m certain the only one of your three children raising roadblocks would be Edouardo.”
“Indeed, he’s quite a big boy, capable of putting a lot of very large roadblocks in the way.”
“What can I do to help?” Gabriella asked. “I’d like nothing more than to be able to talk some sense into him. Though I’ve certainly tried already, to no avail.”
“Maybe the slow drip, drip, drip of persuasion will eventually work with him,” his mother said. “I can’t think of anything else. At some point, he’ll need to understand that Alastair and I will be together with or without his approval. It’s just that we’d love for Edouardo to share in our happiness.”
They stood shoulder to shoulder along the rails as the horses left the gate. Within seconds, they’d passed by, the jockeys in their colorful silks atop those powerful beasts. The sound of their pounding hooves was deafening.
After the first race, the guests dispersed from the area around the rail, gathering closer to the dining tables and bars set up throughout.
Gabriella saw Edouardo, a frown imprinted on his face, walking toward her just as she noticed a figure rushing in her direction from near the entrance to the Royal Enclosure. She could barely make out who it was until he was right up on her. Matthew, of all people. Oh, Lord.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Gabriella,” he said, as he stopped short of running her over. He was huffing and puffing like the horses that had just run the race.
He had in his hand what appeared to be some sort of large scroll, which he promptly untied and spread apart with his fingers, holding it up on either end for all to see. It was a photograph of Gabriella and Matthew from the day he proposed to her. They were standing on the waterfront in Annapolis, Maryland on a bright summer’s day. Behind them, the water shimmered beneath the bright midday sun. Her arms were draped around his neck as they kissed, and she held up her left hand for the camera, a brilliant diamond sparkling atop her ring finger.
Matthew then lowered himself to one knee, pulling a black velvet box from his pocket.
“Gabriella,” he said as guests gathered round, staring at the spectacle unfolding. “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.”
Gabriella turned as red as the huge lobster being served to a couple at a nearby table who’d both stopped eating to watch Matthew’s public display of humiliation unfolding.
“No, no, a thousand times no,” she said under her breath.
“I love thee in the dark hours just before dawn, your naked body spooned next to mine,” he began.
Gab held up her hands. “Okay, stop,” she said. “That’s quite enough.”
Edouardo was standing just off to the side, taking it all in.
“I love thee in the shower, our bodies joined as one beneath the pummeling water,” he continued.
Oh, God, no. “Matthew, please,” she said, her eyes imploring him to stop.
“I love thee in the meadow, flesh on flesh, as I drag my tongue along your—”
Gabriella grabbed at Matthews arm to pull him up off the ground. “What the hell is this all about?” she hissed at him. “Get up and get out of here. Now!”
“But I love you, Gabriella,” he said. “I can’t live without your sweet smile when I awaken in the morning.”
Did the man buy a Poetry for Dummies book and just skim the chapters?
“How did you even get in here?” she said, louder this time. “You must leave, now.”
“I begged my member,” he said, so loudly that everyone stopped what they were doing.
“Your member?” she said. “Do you not realize you are in the Queen’s box? You can’t talk about your private parts in front of these people!”
Until now, most everyone there who was unfamiliar with their story merely thought this a romantic—if mostly unconventional—proposal from a charming lover not the ravings of a jilted ex-fiancé.
“I’m not talking about my penis,” he said, louder still.
Sweet Jesus, could this get worse? Her eyes scanned the horizon for someone she could scream at to rescue her from this mess. Where was Giovanni with the Royal Guard when you needed him?
“Matthew, you must leave,” Gabriella said. “I’m begging you.”
“But Gab, I am sorry,” he said. “I missed you so much after you left. I’ve been heartsick. Look, I even lost weight.” He pulled on the waistband of his morning pants, though it didn’t show much, considering those likely weren’t even his pants, since he never would have had occasion to wear a mo
rning suit in America.
Gabriella held up her hands to the assembled crowd. “You can all go back to what you were doing,” she said. “This man is just having a strange little lapse in sanity. We’ll call for help for him.”
She pulled him closer. “You need to get out of here now. I don’t know how you got here or why, but I will ask you only once more to please leave before I have you arrested.”
“My member helped me,” he said. “I told him it was his fault I lost you. That I was working those insane hours to please him, and in the meantime, I lost you. And you’re the only thing that really matters. He contacted the Monaforte embassy in Washington and got me a ticket to the Royal Enclosure.”
Gabriella made eye contact with Edouardo. “’Douardo, would you please help me?”
But Edouardo only looked down and shook his head.
“In that case, I’ll do this myself,” she said as she grabbed Matthew by the arm.
“So you’re just going to chew me up and spit me out like a piece of gum that’s lost its flavor?” he said.
In that moment a guard arrived and ushered Matthew out of the private enclosure, leaving Gabriella standing there momentarily shocked and embarrassed.
Gabriella, tears filling her eyes, turned to Edouardo. “Well, if you couldn’t find it in you to help me, and now you won’t even do me the favor of leaving, then I suppose I’ll be off then.”
With that, she ran from the Royal Enclosure, refusing to look back, shame filling her like water in a sinking rowboat.
Chapter Thirty
Gabriella couldn’t imagine there were any more tears to cry. But for as many reasons as there were to cry, there were obviously plenty of tears that were more than happy to do the honors.
“By my calculations, we’ll be needing another box of tissues in T minus six hours,” Celeste said when she came to check on Gab for what seemed the tenth time that day.
“So funny I forgot to laugh,” Gab said, her eyes so puffy from crying she could barely see out of them.
“Aha! At least I got you to use the word laugh,” she said. “It’s a start.” She poked her in the rib cage.
It had been days since the bizarre episode at the Royal Cup. Celeste had missed all the drama—at least in real time—and only showed up at the Royal Enclosure after Isabella texted for her to come rescue her sobbing sister.
In the days since the embarrassing episode, Gab had gone over it all again and again. She was having such a nice visit with Edouardo’s mum, and they were just minding their business, enjoying the day. Bad enough that Matthew showed up unannounced as he had—she still couldn’t figure out how he found her there, unless he saw on Facebook that she was planning to go. Whatever possessed him to behave like such a crazy person? She was completely mystified. And to have it happen in front of all those people. Just as she was really hitting her stride.
To further enhance the complete crap of it all, there she stood, needing someone to help her and she looked at Edouardo, trying to get him to do so, and instead he just froze like a statue, immobilized. Thank goodness a member of the Royal Guard eventually removed him.
She’d heard he spent the night in jail. She would have been happy if he spent about a year in jail—the whole thing was that unnerving.
She was so disappointed in Edouardo, but she was also so embarrassed, she hadn’t even left the house. Poor Celeste had become her lifeline to the rest of the world as Gabriella hibernated in bed, bawling in between occasional bouts of restless sleep.
“So, Gab,” her sister said, “you ready to discuss this whole thing?”
Gabriella frowned, her eyes filling once again with tears. “What is there to say?”
Celeste sat down on the bed and tried unsuccessfully to run her fingers through Gabriella’s matted, tangled mess of hair. “You could talk about how upset you are,” she said. “Or you could talk about how you want to handle this with Edouardo. Or you could just scream and yell and be angry at everything and nothing in particular. Or you could move on and not let this be the be-all end-all event of your life. I’m voting for the latter.”
Gabriella snorted and turned over so her face was in her pillow. “I don’t want to do anything.”
“Well, you do have a yoga class scheduled for tomorrow morning,” she said. “Should I cancel it? I think people were excited to attend. Plus, it’s not exactly professional to cancel because you’re in a bad mood.”
“I’m not in a bad mood,” she said, her voice raised. “I was completely humiliated in public.”
“Yeah, so?” Celeste said. “Lots of people get embarrassed in public. But it doesn’t mean you give up on life and just retreat. Recognize what happened, acknowledge that it bothered you, and let it go. You can be the girl who was humiliated at the Royal Cup, or you can be the girl who stopped living a fun life because she was humiliated at the Royal Cup. Seems an obvious choice to me.”
Gabriella growled. “God, I hate it when you make sense,” she said. “But you have to swear to me that that rat fink Edouardo will not be at the class, you understand? If he’s there, I’m going to walk right out the door.”
She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure we’re not in danger of old Edouardo showing up any time in the near future.”
“Fine, but know you’ve been warned. And be sure Clementine knows she is forbidden from bringing him along.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Clementine stood in the doorway of the barn, staring off into the distance as her brother Edouardo stood with a shovel, digging. If this were only a few months ago, she’d have applauded him for being out in nature, putting in a hard day of work. It was far better than being parked in front of that television like he had been. But this? Well, this was possibly just as bad if not worse. Because every day for weeks, Edouardo had woken up, spoken as little as possible to any and all occupants of the house, eaten a minimal breakfast, and headed off to his property to dig.
It didn’t matter if rain was coming down in torrents. One day, he was out there during an intense thunderstorm and was pummeled with hail. He came into the house that night with cuts on his arms and face from the ice. Some nights, he was still out there digging in the pitch dark. She was certain the man had lost his mind altogether.
Charlotte and Alastair held hands as they crossed the field from the house to the barn to join Clementine, who had been out riding her horse before the heat of the day became overbearing. Clem smiled, happy to see them enjoying their time together.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“We’re good,” her mother said.
“Couldn’t be better,” Alastair said. “Well, we could, but...” He nodded toward the horizon, toward Edouardo obsessively digging.
“I’m sorry this is getting in the way of your happiness,” Clementine said. “I don’t know what has gotten into him. I think his brain sprang a leak.”
Her mother frowned. “More like his heart.”
Clementine rolled her eyes. “Well, that was his own dumb fault,” she said. “I mean, he just stood there.”
Lady Charlotte sighed. “Believe me, I know. I saw it all happen. If only there was something I could have done to change it that very day, I would have. Poor Edouardo was just paralyzed by everything that was happening, I think.”
“There’s paralyzed, and then there’s complete and total idiot,” Clem said.
Her mother laughed, but it was a sad little sound. “Edouardo’s too smart to be an idiot, honey. I’m afraid he’s just not very good at managing his heart.”
“Well, he’s going to need to figure that one out if he’s ever going to stop digging up the damned soil.”
“Who knows,” Charlotte said. “Maybe it’s therapeutic for him. He always did love being outdoors and getting dirty.”
“The good news is he’ll have his planting done in time for a late-summer harvest,” Alastair said.
“I guess that could qualify as good news,” Clem said with a shrug. “If you wer
e Pa Ingalls out on the prairie and the Farmer’s Almanac was predicting a harsh winter.”
They all laughed.
Clem’s mum grabbed her daughter’s hand. “Alastair and I have made a decision,” she said, reaching to place her arm on his waist. “We’d hoped to wait until Edouardo came around, but we’ve decided that might not happen for who knows how long. And we want to be together. Officially together. So we’re going to get married.”
Clementine jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “Oh, Mum, I’m so happy for you both,” she said. “This is the best news I’ve heard in a while. You two deserve happiness and I’m glad you aren’t waiting till that one gets his head on straight.” She aimed her thumb in the vague direction of her hole-digging brother. “He’s like a bloody mole out there, tunneling down to China.”
“Your brother means well, Clementine,” Alastair said. “He’s a good man. He’s just lost his way a little bit.”
“I’d argue he’s lost his mind, but that could be semantics,” she said. “So when’s the big day?”
“We don’t want to make a huge deal of this,” her mum said. “Our goal is just to make it legal. So we were thinking a short little ceremony here, next week. Nothing big. We’ll bring in the minister from the village to do the honors.”
“That’s it? No flouncy wedding frock? No small children scattering rose petals? No cute dog carrying the rings on a pillow in his mouth?”
“While those are all very creative ideas, honey, we would be very happy to simply say ‘I do,’ have a slice of cake, and sip a glass of champagne.”
“All right,” Clementine said, resigned. “But Sebastian can come, right? And of course Darcy will have Caroline. I can get Sawyer to fix a cake. And we have plenty of champagne in the wine cellar. This will be the best.”
Her mother stared off, a sort of sad, vacant look in her eyes. “It will be the best.”
“Are you going to tell Edouardo?”
She shook her head. “I really don’t know what we’re going to do. I don’t want to add to his problems,” she said. “But then again, he should know. I think I owe him that. But put it this way: don’t count him in when you’re figuring out what size cake for Sawyer to make.”
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