Lynn Raye Harris - Men In Uniform - Captivated By The Prince

‘Come over here,’ he said softly, indicating the cushion next to his own on the cream damask sofa.

As one corner of his mouth tugged up in a smile Emily’s battered confidence took a further plunge into the depths, while her heart seemed capable of yet more crazy antics. ‘Why?’ she said suspiciously.

‘Because there’s something that I’d like you to see,’ he said patiently.

Emily took care to measure each step, so as not to appear too keen.

‘Sit down,’ he invited, standing briefly until she was comfortably settled on the sofa.

Maintaining space between them, Emily folded her hands out of harm’s way in her lap and waited.

Reaching down to the floor at his feet, Alessandro brought up an ancient brown leather casket and set it down on the table in front of her. Releasing the brass catches, he lifted the lid. ‘For you,’ he said, tipping it up so that she could easily see the contents.

Emily gasped, all play-acting forgotten as she peered into the midnight-blue interior, where a quantity of diamonds flashed fire as the early-morning sunlight danced across their facets.

Reaching into the casket, Alessandro brought out a diamond tiara, together with earrings and a matching bracelet and necklace. ‘You will wear these with your wedding dress,’ he said, laying them out on the table in front of her.

‘Don’t you think that’s a bit much?’

‘To my knowledge, no Princess of Ferara has complained before,’ he said, sweeping up one ebony brow in an elegant show of surprise.

‘Well, I had planned a more restrained look—’

‘You’ll do as you’re told,’ Alessandro cut in firmly. ‘The people of Ferara expect—’

‘The people of Ferara,’ Emily countered, ‘are receiving short shrift from us both. And I can’t…I won’t appear any more of a hypocrite than I already am. They deserve better—’

‘You will honour this contract,’ Alessandro returned sharply, ‘and leave the people of Ferara to me. They are my concern—’

‘Shortly to be mine,’ Emily argued stubbornly. ‘If only for the duration of our agreement. While this contract runs its course,’ she continued, ‘I intend to fulfil my duties to this county, and its people, in full. And I warn you, Alessandro, I will not be side-tracked from my intended course of action by you.’

‘Then you will do as I ask and wear this jewellery,’ he insisted, clearly exasperated. ‘It’s for one day only. That is all I ask.’

Emily mashed her lips together as she thought about it. The royal tiara to hold her veil in place and cement Alessandro’s position as ruler of Ferara? She would agree to that. ‘I would love to wear the tiara, but this ring is what your people care about,’ she said, touching the ruby and pearl band. ‘All the other jewellery is very impressive, but, just as you said, no jewel, however valuable, can boast the history of this one modest piece. Why overshadow it? I think your people would appreciate seeing simplicity in their Princess. I’ve no wish to flaunt your wealth.’

There was a long pause during which Emily couldn’t fathom what was going on in Alessandro’s mind. His face remained impassive, but behind his eyes myriad changes in the molten gold irises marked the course of his thoughts. Even sitting with his back to the sun, with his face half in shadow, the light in his eyes was remarkable, Emily mused, leaving tension behind as she slipped deeper into reverie.

‘You’re an exceptional woman, Signorina Weston—’

She started guiltily out of her daydream as Alessandro began putting the fabulous jewels back inside their velvet nest. She could hardly believe what he was saying…doing. She had won her first battle—and so easily—‘You agree?’ she said, holding her breath.

‘I agree,’ Alessandro said, almost as if he surprised himself. ‘Everything will be locked up for safekeeping. The tiara will be returned to you on the day of our wedding.’

‘Thank you,’ she said with relief, getting to her feet as Alessandro stood up to go. ‘Will I see you again before then?’ It was a question she longed to know the answer to…a question she knew she had no right to ask him.

‘I imagined you would be too busy with your preparations,’ Alessandro said, looking at her intently. ‘I have meetings arranged right up to the morning of the ceremony…I thought I’d give you time to sort through all those clothes,’ he added, clearly of the opinion that any woman should be thrilled by such a prospect.

But Emily wasn’t impressed. As far as she was concerned, the over-abundance of outfits in her walk-in wardrobe represented nothing more than a selection of costumes for the short-running drama production in which she was about to appear.

‘I’d like to do something worthwhile…learn something about Ferara,’ she insisted. ‘The clothes can wait.’

For a moment Alessandro seemed taken aback. ‘Well, good,’ he said. ‘I’ll find someone to have a chat with you—’

As her stomach clenched with disappointment, Emily’s lips tightened. ‘Don’t bother,’ she said tensely. ‘I’ll find someone myself.’

After eating breakfast alone in her suite, Emily knew it was time to make good her boast to find someone who would tell her a little about Ferara. Catching sight of an elderly gardener through one of her many windows, she hurried out of the room.

He was as gnarled as an oak tree and, right now, as bent as one of its branches as he leaned over the plants he was caring for. Emily remained discreetly half hidden as she stared at him, wondering if she had made the right choice.

She needn’t have worried about disturbing him. He was oblivious to everything around him apart from the roses he was tending.

Emily smiled as she watched him. The old man’s love for his plants was revealed in his every move. He had probably worked in the palace gardens most of his long life. Ferara was that sort of place. Who better to tell her everything she wanted to know? He might not speak too much English, but her Italian was…not too bad, she consoled herself. They should be able to have a conversation of sorts—and anything was preferable to returning to the silence that dominated her ornate, but ultimately sterile rooms.

‘Buon giorno!’ she began hopefully, walking towards the solitary figure. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing you.’

‘Not at all, signorina. I’m delighted to have the company.’

‘You speak English,’ she said, unable to keep the excitement from her voice.

‘I do,’ the elderly man replied, leaning heavily on the handle of his fork. ‘What can I do for you, signorina?’

‘Don’t you feel the sun?’ Emily said, shading her eyes with her hand. ‘It’s terribly hot out here.’

‘Yes, I feel the sun,’ he agreed. ‘I love to feel the sun. I love to be outside…with my roses,’ he elaborated, gesturing around him with one nobly hand whilst star-bright amber eyes continued to reflect on Emily’s face. ‘Do you like flowers?’

‘I love them,’ she replied.

‘Roses?’

‘Especially roses,’ Emily sighed, as she traced a petal wistfully. ‘They remind me of my parents’ garden in England.’

‘Do you feel homesick already?’ he asked perceptively.

It was as if some bond formed between them in that moment. And as they smiled at each other Emily felt herself relax. ‘I’m surprised they flourish here in this heat so late in the summer,’ she said, reining back the emotion that suddenly threatened to spoil these first moments with a potential new friend and possible ally.

‘My own system of filtered sunlight and judicious watering,’ the old man told her proudly. ‘Like me, these roses love the sun. And, like me, in this hot climate their exposure to it must be rationed. Otherwise we’d both shrivel up.’