The Royal House Of Karedes Collection Books 1-12. Кейт Хьюит
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was a statement in itself.
He picked it up. Opened it. Withdrew the note inside and read it. It was brief. She was, she said, terribly sorry for his loss. Though she’d only met his father a handful of times, she’d come to respect him. She’d wanted to tell him that herself but…
The “but” made Alex’s belly knot.
But, she wrote, she knew that the king’s death meant Alex would be immersed in the duties of a prince. She saw no reason to burden him with concern for her, especially since she was returning to New York anyway, now that her duties here were completed.
Her duties here.
He looked up, his face a mask of disbelief. Was that what it had been? Had sleeping with him been part of her duties? Was leaving him such a relief that she couldn’t have waited to say goodbye?
He read the note again. And again. Then he let out a roar of anguished rage from a place in his soul he’d never known existed, and tore the note into a dozen pieces.
A state funeral was not a simple thing.
Fortunately, plans for events like this had always existed. Except for the addition of a motorcade, those plans had not changed much since the time of the Crusades.
Aegeus lay in state for three days while his people, friends, relatives and foreign heads of state all paid their respects.
The Sheikh King Zakari Al’Farisi represented the island of Calista.
Zakari, a proud and ruthless man, made all the appropriate comments to the press; he offered Tia his polite condolences.
In private talks with the Karedes princes, however, Zakari’s words were probing as well as troubling.
He seemed to know that Aristo’s half of the Stefani diamond was missing.
Though Alex, Andreas and Sebastian had met with their council and agreed the mystery had to be kept secret until it was solved, that decision was—as Andreas wryly put it—pretty much the equivalent of shutting the stable door after the horse had been stolen.
Clearly, the news had reached Calista. And that was dangerous. Since Sebastian could not be crowned without the true diamond, Alex’s worry—that it might fall into the wrong hands and a Calistan prince could take the Aristan throne—seemed more and more plausible.
Added to concerns of state were those of family. Lissa and Kitty took their father’s death hard and clung to Andreas. Tia, shocked by her loss, claimed Alex for solace and support. Sebastian, now the Prince Regent, was, by custom, designated to lead them all through the necessary formalities.
Alex had no time to think, or told himself he had no time for it. But at night, when the hands of his watch seemed to slow to a crawl, he lay awake in his palace rooms, despising Maria, despising himself, telling himself what a fool he’d been to have imagined himself in love with her because he certainly had not loved her.
Of course, he hadn’t.
He counted down the days until the formalities of mourning would end. He had work to do, investors to meet with and reassure that nothing would change on Aristo. He was also fully involved in organizing the search for the missing diamond. Once the mourning period was behind him, he’d be far too busy to think about Maria Santos.
A lie.
Life slowly returned to normal. He was busy from early morning until late at night. And he thought about her all the time.
What he needed was closure, to tell her, to her face, that she had meant nothing more to him than he had obviously meant to her, but that would mean seeking her out and he wasn’t about to lower himself to that.
Strangely, no one in his family asked about Maria until one morning, when his mother phoned and invited him to breakfast. He was incredibly busy that day but he knew Tia’s grief was still new; nothing would have made him refuse her request.
They chatted briefly about nothing special—and then, without warning, Tia asked why Maria had gone.
“Why wouldn’t she?” Alex said, with a shrug. “She finished your necklace. Her work was over.”
“I’m not talking about her work,” Tia said. “I’m talking about the feelings you and she have for each other.”
“You’re wrong, Mother. We had no—”
“Alex. I’m your mother. I’m also a woman. I know love when I see it. Maria and you were in love. So, why did you let her go?”
Alex thought of half a dozen answers, all of which would have worked—and, instead, found himself speaking the truth.
“I didn’t,” he said in a low voice. “She left me. She enjoyed—she enjoyed our time together but—”
“Nonsense. She loves you. I saw it. Everyone saw it.”
“The hell she did!” Alex shot to his feet. “She left the night Father died. What was I supposed to do? Go after her? Walk out on my duties to try and convince her not to leave me?”
“Your duties,” Tia said softly. “Yes. Such things always get in the way.” She looked up at him. “Had you ever told her you loved her?”
His mouth thinned. “No.”
“Perhaps,” she said carefully, “perhaps you should have.”
Yes, Alex thought, he should have. He’d known the truth, in his heart. Why hadn’t he faced it sooner? Now it was too late.
“It’s never too late,” his mother said, and he realized he’d spoken aloud. “Alexandros. Love is a precious gift. Don’t throw it away.”
“How do you know that, Mother? I know you respected Father but I don’t believe you truly loved him.” Alex drew a ragged breath. “Hell,” he said softly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“You spoke the truth, my son. I didn’t truly love Aegeus, nor did he truly love me.” The queen’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “And that’s exactly the reason you must not let love slip through your fingers, Alexandros. Even a royal is entitled to happiness.”
The New York weather was harsh and uninviting.
Snow, slush, sleet and grey skies were daily companions. The sun seemed reluctant to put in even a cursory appearance. The weather was a reflection of Maria’s despair. She was lonely for Alexandros, for Aristo, for the happiness she had found with him there.
It was good that she was busy. Shops that had not wanted any part of her in the past clamored for her designs. L’Orangerie headed the list.
And, well, yes, there was one other good thing. A miraculous thing that had, at first, terrified her and now made her heart sing with joy.
A visit to her doctor had confirmed that she was pregnant. She was carrying Alex’s child. A little girl, Sela had said, smiling.
“Morning sickness at the beginning of your pregnancy. And look how high you’re carrying. Absolutely, a girl.”
Maria didn’t believe in the old superstitions but it didn’t matter. She would love her baby whatever the sex, and she would name it for Alexandros even though he was gone from her life.
He, and Aristo, were moving forward. Sebastian was the Prince Regent, though there was no mention of the missing diamond. She’d followed the funeral on TV. The royal family had looked saddened but composed. Alex had been his mother’s strong, handsome escort.
Just seeing him had made Maria’s throat constrict.
She would never stop loving him.
But she would have his daughter to love. It saddened her that her baby would never know her daddy but when Alexandra was old enough, she’d tell her what a fine man he was, what a loving man, what a good man—and never mind that he hadn’t called or written or tried to find out how she was,