‘You left her…here…alone,’ his father reminded him. ‘A stranger in our country, young and vulnerable. She was lonely—’
‘We had an arrangement,’ Alessandro reminded him bitterly.
‘An arrangement?’ his father exclaimed incredulously. ‘If that’s all you think of your marriage, Alessandro, then perhaps Emily was right to go.’
‘Right! She is my wife!’ Alessandro thundered. ‘And whether you like it or not, Father, we have an arrangement—’
‘Bah! Don’t talk to me of arrangements, Alessandro,’ he warned. ‘I’ll have none of it. I will not have my happiness at Emily’s expense…or yours,’ he added, seeing the torment that was fast replacing the anger on his son’s face.
Mashing his lips together in impotent fury, Alessandro turned his back and stalked to the window. ‘Then where is she?’ he growled in an undertone.
‘Somewhere where she is appreciated, I imagine,’ his father told him mildly.
‘And where might that be?’ Alessandro said, turning slowly on his heels to confront him again.
‘I’ll leave you to work that out. But don’t take too long, Alessandro. Don’t let her slip through your fingers.’
Grinding his jaws together, Alessandro sucked in a breath as he made his decision. ‘If she really wants to go, Father, there is nothing I can do to stop her. But if there is even the slightest chance—’
‘You’re wasting precious time, Alessandro.’
Inclining his head in a curt show of silent agreement, Alessandro paused only to give his father a brief, fierce embrace before setting off for his own rooms, where he would pack an overnight bag and ring the airport to file his flight plan for London.
‘As it happens, Emily, I do have something for you. Something I think you’ll like—the fallout from a nice juicy bankruptcy. Your clients are major creditors—after the usual banks and Inland Revenue et cetra. Respectable elderly couple, allegedly fleeced out of their life savings by some toff from the Shires.’
‘Billy, you’re a diamond,’ Emily said gratefully, playing to her Chief Clerk, whose thick Cockney accent and market stall joie de vivre masked a mind of Brobdingagian scope and efficiency. She had been expecting to pick up the dregs on her return to Chambers—the cases no one else wanted. But this was right up her street. ‘Do we have all the papers?’
‘Do pigs have wings? But your clients are available for a conference this morning.’
‘Good. Give me what we’ve got. Set up the meeting. Oh, and Billy?’
‘Yes?’
‘If any personal calls come through for me…I’m not available.’
‘I understand,’ Billy said non-committally, straightening his impeccable tailor-made waistcoat on his rapid passage out of the room.
Collecting up her things, Emily went to settle herself into the office Billy had allocated to her. She was back to being a ‘door tenant’ for the time being—a part-timer in Chambers—and would have to submit to being shuffled about wherever there was available space.
Across Europe the new generation of young royals all combined professional careers with the responsibilities of their rank, so there hadn’t been a single comment when she’d returned to work. And by using her maiden name she was largely assured of anonymity. So far, at least, the paparazzi had failed to mark any change in the blissful state of the Crown Prince of Ferara’s marriage.
It had been Miranda’s suggestion that she return to work and take time to think things through. They stuck by each other through thick and thin, Emily mused, knowing she needed her sister’s support like never before. She knew Miranda would never suggest she should try and forget there had ever been a man called Alessandro…but that wasn’t going to stop her trying, Emily thought as she reached for the intercom button.
‘Billy, can you bring those papers in right away, please?’
The meeting with her elderly clients went well. As Emily had anticipated, they were both dressed in their Sunday best, and trying their hardest to appear at ease, when in fact, after planning carefully all their lives to enjoy a well-earned retirement, they were now staring into the abyss. Fortunately they had kept a meticulous diary of events, and with that she could build a case.
Emily found nothing unusual in taking over a case at the last minute, but it did mean that crucial parts of the thick file had to be read and assimilated before the first court hearing that same afternoon. Fortunately she thrived on the pressure; cases like these were what had attracted her to law in the first place.
She broke concentration reluctantly when a knock came at the door, knowing it could only be one person.
‘Sorry to disturb you, Emily,’ said Billy. ‘I thought you should know you’ve had one call.’
‘From?’
‘Your sister.’
‘Oh?’ Emily said with concern.
‘She said not to worry you.’
But the way Billy had delivered the message suggested she should look deeper into the matter without delay, Emily thought, automatically scanning her diary. ‘Could you get hold of her for me, please, Billy?’
‘Already on line one,’ he announced briskly, on his way out of the door.
‘Miranda?’
‘Sorry to trouble you at work, Em. I know you left a message with Billy to say you were too busy to speak to anyone, but I thought you should know—’
‘You don’t have to apologise.’
‘Alessandro’s in town. He wants to see you. I didn’t know what to say.’
Emily’s heart must have stopped. She only knew she had never been more grateful for her sister’s support at the other end of the line. ‘Did you tell him?’
‘Where you’ll be? No. I’m waiting for you to give me the go-ahead on that. But, Emily?’ Miranda added anxiously.
‘Yes?’
‘I really think you should see him. At least give him a chance to explain.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Please, Em. If you’d spoken to him, heard how worried he sounds, you wouldn’t be so hard on him. He knows you’re appearing in court today; he just doesn’t know which one…’
The silence hung between them and deepened, until finally Emily said softly, ‘I can’t keep running away from him for ever, can I, Miranda?’
Dragging the documents she had been reading before the call back towards her, Emily read the name of the man she would be accusing in court that day—the man who had tricked and betrayed an elderly couple. Alessandro had betrayed and tricked her, she remembered bitterly—and into a marriage of convenience that included an innocent child. What sort of man did that?
Alessandro managed to slip into the visitors’ gallery just as the court usher called out, ‘All rise,’ and the judge walked in and took her seat.
He missed the first few moments of procedure—case number, names, et cetra—and was barely aware that another man, seeing him arrive, had also moved into the gallery a couple of rows back, and was desperately trying to catch his attention. The only thing he saw, the only thing he cared about, was Emily, fully robed and bewigged, standing in front of the judge.
He drank her in like a life-restoring draught, feeling his resolve and his determination increase with every second that he gazed at her. Just being so close was like a healing process, and he hadn’t even realised how heartsick he was until this moment. He was in such agony he had to clench his fists to stop himself calling out to her. Taking a deep breath, he battled to compose himself. He would win her back. He had to…
His heart sang with pride while his mind seethed with questions as reason and logic made a steady return. Staring at her, he found it impossible to equate the woman he’d thought he knew—the clear-faced, intelligent woman below him now in the well of the court—with someone who could give herself to a man as freely and as lovingly as Emily had and then simply disappear without a word. Had she fallen out of love with him? His guts churned as an ugly worm of suspicion burrowed into his mind.
He had been so
sure that she loved him—but then how could she have left him so abruptly if that was so? And, feelings apart, she had broken the contract that meant so much to her—to her sister. His father was heartbroken by their split, yet Emily had said she loved him, too. What could have taken her from them without even the basic courtesy of a note…something…anything to explain her behaviour? It had to be something so momentous, he reasoned, that only a face-to-face meeting would allow it to be brought out into the open. Yet a face-to-face meeting was the very thing Emily seemed intent on avoiding—but she would meet with him, he was determined on that…
The efforts of the man sitting behind Alessandro to attract his attention failed until the judge called a mid-morning recess. The very last thing on Alessandro’s mind was a reunion with someone from his old school. Let alone Archibald Freemantle, he realised, grinding his jaw as he fought to remain civil.
His whole mind was focused on one thing and one thing only, and that was making things right with his wife. Maybe his pride had taken a battering when she deserted him, but the overriding emotion he had felt then, as now, was one of loss. Loss so insupportable he had no strategy to cope with the devastating effect it was having on every aspect of his life. Without Emily he had no life, Alessandro thought bitterly, forcing his attention back to the irritating individual in front of him.
‘Archibald,’ he said coolly, extending his hand as courtesy demanded, then removing it as fast as good manners allowed. ‘What brings you here?’
‘This case, old boy,’ Archibald exclaimed, with such a heartfelt sigh it threatened to mist up his gold-rimmed spectacles.
‘Oh?’ Alessandro said vaguely, trying to be discreet about his desire to spot Emily…if only for a moment…just a glance would do, he realised, cursing himself for being a lovesick fool.
‘You must have realised it’s m’brother,’ Archibald said, huffing again.’ Freemantle Minor,’ he clarified, reverting to the argot of school.
Alessandro tensed. It didn’t seem quite the moment to comment, Oh, that rat, so he confined himself to a murmured, ‘Ah, now I recognise him.’ The man in the dock, he realised, and a flash of amusement briefly eased his torment. Toby Freemantle had started his career as a small-time crook, going through coat pockets at school—until he was asked to leave. It appeared he had pursued his calling into adult life.
‘Would have got off,’ Archibald said hotly, clearly determined to elicit Alessandro’s support, ‘had it not been for that bitch barrister the wrinklies hired. Apparently she’s hot stuff—said to be one of the best legal minds around. For a woman,’ he added scornfully.
Rage powered up through Alessandro’s frame at this casual dismissal of Emily’s abilities, but only a muscle flexing in his jaw threatened to betray his feelings.
‘I’m sure the judge presiding would be delighted to hear you make such a remark,’ he commented laconically. ‘Oh, and by the way, Archibald…’
‘Yes?’
‘That woman is my wife.’
Making a hasty exit, Emily was keen to escape to Chambers, where she could forget her personal problems and immerse herself in the case ready for cross-examination the next day.
Head down, arms encircling her bundle of papers, secured with the traditional pink ties, she failed to see the tall, imposing figure waiting at the head of the broad sweep of marble steps…Until an arm reached in front of her to grab hold of the mahogany banister and block her way.
‘Emily—can we talk?’
Her mind locked with shock, even though she had expected Alessandro to find her. Unable to cope with the thought of seeing him again, she had simply banished it from her mind.
Seeing the security guards on alert, and moving towards them fast, Emily nodded them away first before she spoke.’ Alessandro. I didn’t expect to see you here.’
Why was she lying to him? She bit down on her lip. All her cool, all her reserve, every bit of the calm logic that guided her in the courtroom had vanished.
It was useless reminding herself that this was the man who had lied to her, who had used her like a breeding mare to gain an heir for his country, when the need to feel his arms around her instead of having one of them obstruct her path in such a stiff and telling way was all she cared about.
She could hardly breathe. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. But then, she didn’t need to, she realised wretchedly. She could feel him, sense him, scent his clean male warmth and imbibe his very essence without using her eyes.
If she didn’t keep his betrayal, his lie of omission at the forefront of her mind, she might just go mad from wanting him.
‘Emily, please…won’t you even speak to me?’
She wouldn’t survive if he hurt her again. ‘This is a difficult case—’
‘I can see that. I’m sorry to intrude on your work, but your phone is always switched through to your answering service.’
‘I don’t have much time—’
‘As I said, I apologise for approaching you like this, but I could think of no other way.’
The whole situation was a catastrophic mess, Emily realised tensely. Leaving aside her own feelings, Miranda’s first solo concert was coming up in the New Year—a concert where she would be playing the violin Alessandro had loaned to her.
‘Emily—’ Alessandro’s voice had roughened, and was considerably louder. It brought her back to full attention. ‘I have to talk to you,’ he insisted. ‘But not here; not like this, please.’
Emily’s face flushed red as she stared up at him. She had never thought to hear so needy, so desperate a note in his voice.
‘I know I’ve let you down—’
He had found out she knew about the baby clause; she could hear it in his voice…in what he didn’t say. She had to hear his explanation. ‘I feel as if I hardly know you any more,’ she murmured, speaking her thoughts out loud.
‘Well, I only know that I’ve hurt you, Emily. And that I can’t let it end like this. I can’t go on any more without your forgiveness.’
My forgiveness…my forgiveness, Emily thought wretchedly as her hand moved instinctively to cover her stomach. ‘If you could give me the rest of the afternoon…’
‘You have to eat,’ he said instantly. ‘Why don’t we meet at my hotel for dinner? Eight o’clock? You won’t want a late night.’
‘Yes…Yes, please.’
‘Shall I send a car for you?’
Her mind was in freefall. She needed time to think, to prepare, to plan how she was going to tell him about their baby. ‘No, that’s fine. I’d rather you didn’t.’
Emily stood motionless, watching Alessandro take the steps down to the foyer. He moved with long, purposeful strides, his head held high, and the gaze of every woman, and not a few of the men, zoned in on his rapid departure.
Only when he had gone through the doors that led to the street did she begin very slowly to follow after him. He was still her husband…and in spite of everything she knew without doubt she still loved him.
She fought hard in court…wasn’t her marriage worth fighting for, too?
The invisible men, as Emily had learned to call them, had obviously telephoned ahead, as the door to Alessandro’s suite swung open before she could even knock.
As he stood back to let her pass the temptation to touch him, to look into his eyes, was almost irresistible. But she could feel remoteness coming off him in waves, pushing her away.
Shrugging off her winter coat and scarf, she put them on a chair first, and then, having first drawn a deep, steadying breath, she turned around. ‘How are you, Alessandro?’
He looked amazing. Black trousers, black round-necked cashmere sweater framing his tan…
‘How am I?’ he said, dipping his head to give her a keen look. ‘That’s an interesting question, coming from you, Emily.’
Picking up her coat and scarf, he walked across the room and deposited them inside what must be a cloakroom.
‘Apparently I’m some sort of monster,�
�� he said with his back to her, ‘since my wife walked out on me without a word of explanation.’
CHAPTER TEN
THE expression in her husband’s eyes frightened Emily. It was as if all the angry frustration, all the bafflement possible had been captured and condensed in his gaze. And as for herself…She took a steadying breath and struggled to find the words she had so carefully rehearsed in the taxi from her apartment. But she was in too much pain to speak—pain so bad it felt as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest and stamped on.
It seemed like several lifetimes before she managed to say, ‘I spoke to your father—’
‘And?’
She had never heard him sounding so curt, so cold. And she wasn’t doing much better. Her own voice was strangulated, false. She had to wait and take a few deep breaths before she could relax enough to start again. ‘He told me—’
‘Told you what?’ Alessandro cut in harshly. Why was it that angry words hung in the air longer than any others? he wondered furiously. The very last thing he had intended to do was shout at Emily the moment she arrived, but his emotions were in turmoil. No one knew better than he that the rest of their lives depended on what happened between them in the next few hours. ‘Go on,’ he said, making a conscious effort to soften his tone.
Emily knew she had to set him straight about his father’s role, if nothing else. ‘It was something he thought I already knew…something he believed you would have told me,’ she went on, trying to stay calm. ‘He said he couldn’t abdicate until you…until I had your child.’
Alessandro’s face went blank and unreadable—like a stranger’s, Emily realised with an inward shudder. She saw the change come into his eyes first: a slow infusion of pain, then guilt, and finally something approaching fear.
‘I thought I’d lose you,’ he said, so softly she could hardly make out the words. ‘I believed it was too much for you to accept all at once. You would never have agreed—’
‘You’re right about that,’ Emily flared, her own voice shaking with emotion. ‘I would never have agreed to barter the life of a child—even for the sake of my own sister’s happiness.’ She stopped. There was an iron band around her chest; she could hardly breathe. She wheeled away from him in bewilderment. ‘I thought you loved me,’ she cried accusingly.
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