Modern Romance Collection: July Books 5 - 8. Natalie Anderson
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at the presence of his younger son, was accepting the glass of champagne that had been offered him. ‘Lovely cheekbones.’
‘Delightful,’ the King responded, not looking at Sabrina or her cheekbones or, to her relief, her child-bearing hips, which were probably the only attribute in his future daughter-in-law that interested him, but staring at the glass of champagne he held.
He wasn’t holding it for long. The Queen released Sabrina and promptly removed it from his hand.
‘Doctor’s orders,’ she explained, and handed him an orange-juice-filled flute.
Aware that Luis had come to stand beside her, Sabrina turned with a smile.
‘Did you have a good journey?’ she asked, hearing the fake bright note in her voice. If she couldn’t think of something to say to him now, what would it be like in twenty years’ time? She let her eyes drift to where Sebastian stood talking to her sister, knowing there was no logic to it but blaming him for the horrid sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach anyway.
‘Pretty good considering.’
Chloe had moved away but she could still hear her sister’s laughter as Sebastian, who followed her, spoke in a low rumble, his words inaudible.
‘And did your call go well, Luis?’
‘Call?’ Luis repeated, his expression suddenly guarded, even, weirdly, suspicious...
‘Your brother said that you were waiting on an important call.’
Luis seemed to relax a little and Sabrina decided she had misread his veiled expression. ‘Oh, yes, sure, it was not really important. Sebastian must have got the wrong idea.’
When five minutes later dinner was announced the small gathering left the room. Protocol demanded that the King, with the Duchess on his arm, led the party, followed by the Queen and the Duke. Before Luis could take her own arm and fall into place behind them, Chloe slid between them, taking Luis’s arm.
‘Your bad brother has been telling me some things—’ she flung a laughing glance over her shoulder ‘—and I really don’t know if they’re true. Tell me, how do you know if he’s lying?’
‘I’m hurt at the accusation I would ever tell an untruth,’ Sebastian protested as Chloe led his brother away.
Watching the little interchange Sabrina felt a stab of something that resembled jealousy, enough to increase the level of conflict swirling in her head by several uncomfortable, confusing notches.
‘Shall we?’
Looking from the arm presented to her to his face, she gave a quick nod and placed her hand lightly on it. While the couples ahead made light conversation, in contrast they walked in silence down the hallway until they reached the dining-room doorway.
‘What is it?’ Sebastian asked, refusing to acknowledge the stab of sympathy as she stood there, her slim body in an attitude that made him think of a scared animal trying to work up the courage to move out of the headlights. Or in Sabrina’s case, he supposed, to step into the spotlight.
‘Nothing,’ she said, forcing the word through pale lips. ‘Just...just give me a minute, would you?’
The sympathy he’d held in check turned into anger as he watched her.
‘Is it worth it?’
The harsh scorn in his voice forced her gaze upwards. She felt her anger rise, hot and resentful. ‘Financial stability, a reduction in the unemployment rate, an education system that is fit for purpose...funding for—’ She took a deep breath, her expression hard with contempt when she finished. ‘Is that worth me marrying a man I respect and like? Yes, I think so.’ She let go of his arm and, chin up, shoulders firm, she walked in ahead of him.
Sebastian watched her queenly progress and felt a stab of something that he refused to recognise as respect.
TAKING HER OWN SEAT, Sabrina watched as Chloe, already seated, said something to make the normally severe guest of honour laugh. Sabrina felt a stab of envy for the social ease that came so naturally to her sister, who tonight looked particularly stunning in a slim-fitting flame-red shift. Sabrina could work the room with the best of them when required, but it had been a learnt process. With Chloe it came naturally.
As the waiting staff began to circulate the table Sabrina struggled to force her mind back to Luis, seated to her right, responding with an ambiguous nod because she didn’t have a clue as to what he’d just said before. Her eyes were drawn across the table where Chloe was now talking to Sebastian.
Then, as a waiter moved between them, Sebastian’s gaze shifted. Caught staring, Sabrina looked away quickly and grabbed Luis’s hand.
She ignored the mortifying fact that Luis’s first instinct was to pull away and she couldn’t ignore the look of alarm in his eyes when she’d laughed quite inanely, as though he’d just said something desperately amusing.
‘Sabrina dear,’ her mother said. ‘They are trying to serve the soup. If you must hold hands...’
Everyone looked and Sabrina let go of Luis’s hand, keeping the blush at bay by sheer force of will. Rather to her surprise he kept hold of it. He actually turned it over, then she realised what he was looking at.
She should either have put on some make-up to cover the bruises on the inside of her forearm or worn long sleeves.
‘How did that happen?’ Luis said, directing a concerned frown at the darkening patches either side of her arm.
‘I bruise easily,’ she said quickly, putting her hand across her middle.
‘Since when?’ Chloe asked.
‘Let me see that, Sabrina.’
‘It’s fine, Mum, it probably happened when I was jostled by the press.’
‘Those animals!’ her protective father rumbled, his face dark with anger as he surged awkwardly to his feet.
‘Arnica,’ her mother said, her eyes on her husband, who after a moment subsided in his seat. ‘It really helps bruising. I wonder if we have any...’
‘I’m fine!’ Sabrina said, her smile strained. ‘Just fine, it’s nothing and—’ She took a deep breath and addressed the rest of her comment directly to Sebastian. ‘I’d like to put what happened behind me, to forget about it and move on.’
A three-year-old could have read the coded message but she found it frustratingly impossible to tell from his expression if he had understood.
It was the King, who was seated at the head of the table, who picked up her theme. ‘We’d all like to move on,’ he pronounced suddenly.
It was rare that he and his father were on the same page but on this occasion moving on seemed an excellent idea and one Sebastian realised he needed to put into action at the first possible opportunity.
He felt as if a protective layer had been stripped from his skin. It wasn’t just what he felt, it was how much he felt.
He’d made the connection between those finger marks on Sabrina’s arm and his rough and ready extraction method the moment Luis had drawn everyone’s attention to them. Knowing he was responsible had shaken loose this painful cascade of emotions he could not identify, emotions he had never come close to feeling in his life before. The depth of the self-loathing he felt was visceral in its intensity.
Having waited until he had everyone’s attention, the King continued, in a deeply disgruntled tone. ‘Though there seems little chance of that when we have that damned book to look forward to. If the legal team had not been persuaded by a certain someone.’ The direction of his poisonous glare left little doubt who the someone in question was.
The