The Blackmail Marriage. Penny Jordan

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The Blackmail Marriage - Penny Jordan


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cheap operetta. A pantomime character who thinks he’s something special because he gets to dress up in a uniform and call himself Prince! The only reason he still has this stupid bit of land is because no one else wants it. He’s a joke! And you can tell him that I said so,’ Carrie finished recklessly.

      ‘How dare you speak so?’ The Countess had lost her haughty, cool detachment, and was now furiously angry. ‘My godson can trace his line right back over five hundred years, to the first Prince of S’Antander, who was granted this land as a gift from the Pope. His family have held it as a sacred trust against all adversity ever since. It was because Luc’s grandfather allowed the Allied Troops to land here on our beaches that he himself was shot and lost his life! S’Antander is no mere puppet kingdom, as its ruling family have proved over and over again, and with your own ignorant words you prove—if it needed to be proved—how unworthy you are of sharing Luc’s life.’

      Much as she disliked the Countess, Carrie felt a tiny burn of shame. It was true that Luc’s family did have a history and a tradition of supporting those causes they considered to be just and of benefit to humankind, but she was in no mood to acknowledge any good in Luc right now. In fact at this moment in time she felt that she hated Luc even more than she did his manipulative godmother! Ignoring the cheque the Countess was still holding out to her, she spun round on her heel and headed for the door, before her emotions could totally get the better of her.

      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘I WON’T say “be happy”, because I know that you will be. I am so pleased for you both!’

      Carrie hugged her beaming newly married brother and his ecstatic bride.

      ‘Carrie, there is something Maria wants you to do for her,’ Harry begged her urgently.

      Enquiringly Carrie looked at the pretty dark-haired girl wrapped in her brother’s arms.

      ‘Please, Carrie, will you go to S’Antander and tell them that Harry and I are man and wife?’

      ‘You want them to know?’ Carrie questioned a little warily.

      She had been taken completely by surprise by her beloved younger brother’s announcement only a matter of days ago that he and Maria were to marry. After all, hadn’t it always been a given that Maria was going to marry Luc?

      While no official announcement of an engagement or forthcoming wedding had actually been publicly made, Maria herself had admitted that everyone expected her and Luc to marry—including Luc himself! But when Carrie had reminded Maria of this, Maria’s response had been that her grandmother might have decided that she and Luc were going to marry, but Maria had absolutely no intention of being coerced into a cynical marriage of convenience—especially not now, when she and Harry had fallen so deeply in love!

      ‘Of course I want them to know. I have nothing to hide!’ Maria answered, tossing her head proudly. She looked up at Harry, her whole face alive with her love for him as she added sweetly, ‘Nothing and no one can part us or hurt us in any way now!’

      Looking into their delighted faces, Carrie acknowledged that she envied them their confidence. And their shared love. It was plain that they were totally besotted with one another. Harry looked as proud as any ancient knight who’d rescued his lady from death by dragon. Though Harry was a man now, Carrie remembered, and not the boy she had cherished and protected as they grew up without a mother. The last thing she wanted to do was go to S’Antander, but Harry was looking at her pleadingly, and—as always—she couldn’t bear to let him down.

      ‘It’s all right!’ she heard Maria telling her confidently. ‘I know that you and Luc don’t get on, but you need not be afraid of seeing him. Luc…His Highness…will not be there! He’s away in Brussels on important business. When he gets back he will be expecting me to be there, and I feel I owe him.’

      Infuriated by Maria’s assumption that she might feel fear at the thought of confronting Luc, Carrie told her fiercely, ‘Maria, you don’t owe that sexist brute of a puppet prince anything! Nothing at all! If he had had his way—’

      Maria stopped her, her eyes filling with tears.

      ‘He must be informed, Carrie. I know you don’t like him, but Luc has never done me any harm. And…and it isn’t just that!’ Her chin tilting proudly, she went on, ‘I want everyone at home to know how much I love Harry and how proud I am to be his wife—especially my grandmother.’

      As she looked across at Harry Carrie’s heart melted, and she was reminded again of the almost maternal sense of responsibility as well as the great deal of sisterly love she felt for her younger brother. She was inclined to be a little bit too indulgent towards him, or so her friends claimed, but Carrie could not help feeling very protective of him, and she was delighted to see him looking so happy. His love for Maria and their marriage had given him a maturity that he’d perhaps previously lacked.

      It was true that she had had her concerns about him recently, specifically where his work was concerned, and indeed, if she was honest…But she was not going to dwell on past problems now, nor take him to task for not confiding in her about his relationship with Maria. She was far too happy for him to do that!

      Happy for him, but Maria’s mentioning of her grandmother had awoken some far from happy memories for herself!

      Oh, yes, Maria’s grandmother! Carrie’s eyes suddenly glinted with a certain steeliness.

      ‘Carrie, please,’ Maria pleaded, ‘There is no one else I can ask to do this for me. No one else I could trust…who understands just how things are at home in S’Antander…just how things are with Luc! If you would just go there for me and tell my grandmother. So that she can tell Luc.’

      The very mention of Maria’s grandmother was enough to raise the most ignoble and tempting thoughts in Carrie’s mind!

      She wasn’t a naïve eighteen-year-old any more, she reminded herself sternly. She was now a mature, confident and successful woman! A highly acclaimed economist, working freelance as a financial journalist.

      Determinedly she tried to refuse, but Maria remained stubbornly insistent that Luc, His Serene Highness, ruler of the small but perfectly formed principality of S’Antander, had to be told that his prospective bride had instead chosen to marry the man who had been her childhood playmate—Carrie’s younger brother.

      ‘Please, Carrie,’ Harry begged her, and Carrie could feel her resistance weakening.

      A little ruefully she admitted that there was a part of her that could not help feeling a certain degree of valedictory triumph in being the one to carry the news to the Countess that her granddaughter was not after all going to meekly accept her grandmother’s plans for her and fulfil her ambitions to make her Luc’s wife.

      After the misery of a cold, wet British spring, the warmth that met Carrie as she stepped out of the airport at Nice and set off to collect her hire car was indeed a welcome relief.

      Despite her fair English skin and straight silky shoulder-length naturally blonde hair, Carrie had never enjoyed the discomfort of her home country’s grey winter climate. Perhaps it was the fault of all those school holidays spent in S’Antander with her father—they had given her a taste for the warmth of its sunshine!

      Her father was retired now, and lived in Australia with his second wife who, like him, had been widowed when they met.

      Carrie liked her stepmother who, having no children of her own, had expressed herself delighted to be gaining two adult stepchildren. Carrie’s own mother had been killed in a car accident when Carrie had been seven and Harry only two. It had been one of the reasons why her father had accepted the post in S’Antander, which had included the benefit of proper domestic care for his young children—although that had not stopped Carrie from adopting her almost motherly attitude towards her younger brother.

      Although Nice was its closest airport, S’Antander, which occupied a small strip of land between France and Italy, had been influenced by the Italian way of life as much as


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