The Wedding Party And Holiday Escapes Ultimate Collection. Кейт Хьюит
begged and Sandro had gone.
‘Leo.’ Sandro nodded once, his expression veiled, and Leo nodded back. Quite the emotional reunion, then.
‘I’ve summoned Alessandro back to Maldinia,’ King Alessandro said with the air of someone who trusted his innate authority.
‘So I see.’ Leo cleared his throat. ‘It’s been a long time, Sandro.’
‘Fifteen years,’ his brother agreed. His silver gaze swept over him, telling him nothing. ‘You look well.’
‘As do you.’ And then they lapsed into silence, these brothers who had once, despite the six years’ difference in their ages, been nearly inseparable—compatriots as children, banding together as they had determinedly tried to ignore their parents’ vicious fights and sudden, insensible moments of staged affection.
Later they’d gone to the same boys’ boarding school and Sandro had become Leo’s champion, his hero, a sixth former to his first year, cricket star and straight-A pupil. Yet always with the time, patience and affection for his quieter, shyer younger brother. Until he’d decided to leave all of it—and him—behind.
Childish memories, Leo told himself now. Infantile thoughts. Whatever hero worship he’d had for his brother, he’d long since lost it. He didn’t care any more, hadn’t for years. The damnable lump in his throat was simply annoying.
‘Alessandro has agreed to return to his rightful place,’ his father said and Leo’s gaze swung slowly to the King.
‘His rightful place,’ he repeated. ‘You mean...?’
‘When I am gone, he will be King.’
Leo didn’t react. He made sure not to. He kept completely still, not even blinking, even as inside he felt as if he’d staggered back from a near-fatal blow. In one swoop his father had taken his inheritance, his reason, away from him. For fifteen years he’d worked hard to prove he was worthy, that he would be a good king. He’d sacrificed desire for duty, had shaped his life to become the next monarch of Maldinia.
And just like that, on his father’s whim, he wouldn’t be. He turned to Sandro, saw his brother’s lips twist in a grimace of a smile.
‘So you’re off the hook, Leo.’
‘Indeed.’ Of course his brother would see it that way. His brother had never wanted to be king, had walked away from it all, hating both the artifice and the pretension of royal life. He’d forged his own path in California; had started a highly successful IT firm, or so Leo’s Internet searches had told him. And now he was leaving that all behind to return, to take Leo’s place?
And leave Leo with...nothing?
Not even a wife. There was, he realised hollowly, no reason at all for him and Alyse to be married. To stay married. A week or so of fragile feeling surely didn’t justify a life sentence. She would want to be free and so would he.
He did. He would.
He turned back to his father, unable to miss the cold glitter of triumph in the King’s eyes. ‘So how did this come to pass?’ he asked in as neutral a tone as he could manage.
‘I’ve always wanted Alessandro to be King,’ his father answered shortly. ‘It is his birthright, his destiny. You’ve known that.’
Of course he had, just as he’d known he was a poor second choice. He’d simply thought he’d proved himself enough in the last fifteen years to make up for the deficiency of being born second.
‘And after this latest debacle...’ King Alessandro continued, his lips twisting in contempt. ‘All the work we’ve done has been destroyed in one careless moment, Leo.’ The work we’ve done? Leo wanted to answer. To shout.
His father had done nothing, nothing to restore the damn monarchy. He’d let his son—his second son—do all the work, shoulder all the responsibility. He said nothing. He knew there was no point.
The King drew himself up. ‘Bringing Alessandro back will restore the monarchy and its reputation, its place at the head of society. New blood, Leo, fresh air. And we can forget about what happened with you and Alyse.’
Forget them both, tidy them away just as his father had done with Alessandro all those years ago. Move onto the next chapter in this damnable book.
But he didn’t want to move on. He wouldn’t have his life—his love—treated as no more than an unfortunate mistake. He didn’t care so much about being king, Leo realised with shock, as being Alyse’s husband. I’ve fallen in love with my wife. And it didn’t matter any more.
Alyse didn’t love him, not really. She might have convinced herself once, and she’d probably do so again, but it wasn’t real. It wouldn’t last, just as nothing had been real or lasting in his life.
Why should he trust this? Her? Or even himself, his own feelings that might vanish tomorrow?
‘The matter is finished,’ King Alessandro stated. ‘Alessandro has accepted his birthright. He will return to live in Maldinia and take up his royal duties.’
Without waiting for a reply, the King left the room, left the two brothers alone as a silence stretched on between them.
‘He’s still the same,’ Sandro said after a moment, his voice flat and almost uninterested. ‘Nothing’s really changed.’
Everything’s changed. Everything has just changed for me. Leo swallowed the words, the anger. He didn’t want to feel it; there was no point. He wouldn’t be king; he had no wife. ‘I suppose,’ he said.
‘I’ll need you, if you’re willing,’ Sandro said. ‘You can pick whatever post you want. Cabinet minister?’ He smiled, and for the first time Leo saw warmth in his brother’s face, lighting his eyes. ‘I’ve missed you, Leo.’
Not enough to visit, or even write. But then, he hadn’t either. First he’d been forbidden, and then later he’d told himself he didn’t care.
Now grief for all he’d lost rushed through him and he turned his face away, afraid Sandro would see all he felt in his eyes. ‘Welcome back, Sandro,’ he said when he trusted himself to speak and then he left the room.
* * *
Alyse paced the sitting room of the apartment they’d been given in one wing of the palace, her hands clenched, her stomach clenched, everything inside her taut with nerves. Her worries and uncertainties about the TV interview, and what Leo had said, had been replaced with the fear of what Sandro’s return would mean for Leo—and her.
For she’d had a terrible certainty, as she’d watched Leo head for his father’s study like a man on his way to the gallows, that everything had changed.
The door opened and she whirled around.
‘Leo.’
His mouth twisted in what Alyse suspected was meant to be a smile but didn’t remotely come close. ‘It seems,’ he said, striding towards the window, ‘that we’re both off the hook.’
‘Off the hook? What do you mean? What’s happened, Leo? Why has Sandro come back?’
‘My father summoned him.’
Alyse stared at him, saw the terrible coldness, almost indifference, on his face. ‘Why did he leave in the first place?’
Leo shrugged and turned away. ‘He hated royal life. Hated the way we always pretended and hated the burden of becoming king. He went to university, and when he received his diploma he decided to trade it all in for a life of freedom in the States.’
There was something that Leo wasn’t saying, Alyse knew. Many things. He spoke tonelessly, but she felt his bitterness, his rage and even his hurt. She took a step closer to him. ‘And why were you never in touch?’
‘My parents forbade it. You don’t walk away from royalty,