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“I’m not going to pretend she’s happy about my broken engagement, but one look at Phillip caused her to accept him as her grandson. That in itself is an indication of where her true heart lies.”
She bit her lip. “There’s absolutely no chance of Isabella changing her mind?”
“None. If there were no Phillip, we would have gone through with the wedding and done our best to make a good life together. But Phillip’s existence has changed destiny. Now Isabella will have a chance to find the kind of love she’s seen with some of her friends’ marriages.”
Darrell’s eyes played over his face. “And what about you?”
“Does it matter? After what I’ve told you, you have every right to loathe me. As my father once told me, a king has no friends because every decision he makes offends someone.”
Darrell didn’t want to hear about all the damage his father and uncle had done to him. “Let’s leave my feelings out of it,” she blurted. “What’s going to happen when the country hears you’re not getting married?”
“I guess I’m going to find out. It’ll be on the five o’clock evening news.”
“Already?” The thought of Alex being forced to abdicate tortured her.
“I’ve just come from a cabinet meeting where I explained the situation and gave a statement to the press. If there’s a groundswell of resentment against me, I’ll step down.”
“What exactly did you tell them?”
When she heard everything she felt ill.
“This is all because of me.” She buried her face in her hands. “My trip to Bris has ruined your life.”
“It gained me a son, Darrell,” his voice shook. “No man could receive greater news.”
Her head flew back. “But you’re no ordinary man—” The tears streamed down her cheeks. “You’re a king who might have to give up everything.”
His eyes blazed with green fire. “You gave up everything for Phillip. Do you regret it?”
“Of course not!” she cried.
“Then we understand each other,” he said on a note of finality.
While she stood there shivering, his cell phone rang. He answered it and spoke in Romanche for a few minutes. When he clicked off he said, “Something’s come up. I have to get back to my office. Tell Phillip I’ll phone him as soon as I’m free.”
She watched his hard-muscled body leave her bedroom. The second she heard the outer door close, she flung herself on the bed and sobbed. Fifteen minutes later she was still agonizing over the reason for his broken engagement when she heard her animated son calling to her.
Jerked back to the present, she rolled off the bed and stood up, smoothing the hair out of her eyes. “I’m in my room, sweetheart. What is it?”
“You won’t believe it. Dad got me a dog! It’s a St. Bernard from that monastery in the Alps I told him I saw on television. It’s the kind I always wanted. He’s beautiful.”
As her son came running into the bedroom, he was crying for happiness. A St. Bernard was his dream dog, but the condo didn’t allow pets, not even miniatures.
“I’m going to train him how to save me and bring me drinks in a keg.”
Darrell was in too much emotional turmoil to respond.
“He’s almost all white and he’s an older puppy because the monks weren’t going to sell him, but they did it for Dad. I told him we wouldn’t be back until after the wedding, so he’s going to take care of him. But I wish we never had to go…Can I keep him, Mom?”
He wanted her permission.
“Mom?” he asked tentatively. “You’ve been crying, huh. Did you tell Dad to send the dog back? Is that why you didn’t come inside the vet’s office?”
“No, sweetheart. Of course you can keep him.”
“Then what’s wrong? Did you two have a fight? Where is he?”
“He’s in his office working.”
After calling off a royal wedding the entire country had been looking forward to, he was probably trying to put out a dozen fires at once.
“Can I phone him?”
“After the great amount of trouble your father has gone to, I know he’d appreciate a call from his son thanking him for the dog.”
“I love you, Mom.” Almost knocking the wind out of her with his hug, he reached for the phone.
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_d0738f86-cb68-5243-bbd9-ceef41b73974)
“YOUR MAJESTY? Your son is on line two.”
“Thank you, Carl.” He shoved his paperwork aside and turned on the speaker. “Phillip?”
“Dad—Thanks for the dog. I love him more than anything! Mom says I can keep him. You’re the best! I love you.”
Alex realized that Darrell was going to leave it up to him to tell Phillip about the wedding being called off. Nothing could have pleased him more.
He got up from the chair. “I love you, too, and I think this calls for a celebration. Why don’t you and your mother come to my apartment in an hour and we’ll have an early dinner together.”
“I can’t wait!”
The lump was still lodged in his throat. “Neither can I. See you soon.”
The second Phillip hung up, Alex called the kitchen to arrange for dinner to be sent up, then he left the office for his suite.
He showered and dressed in a sport shirt and slacks, unable to remember the last time he’d been this excited about anything.
Heaven forgive him but he hadn’t given Isabella a thought since he’d kissed her a final goodbye.
If ever he needed proof that a marriage between them would have been dead wrong, the euphoria he was feeling right now was it.
He’d instructed his staff to set the table on the terrace off the sunroom. It overlooked the ancient part of the city with its cobblestoned streets and Romanesque churches. Phillip would enjoy looking through the binoculars.
As he went to the bedroom to get them, his cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID and clicked on.
“Mother?”
“Whatever you’re doing, I have to talk to you now.”
He gripped the phone tighter. “What is it?”
“I just had a phone call from Carl. Your uncle heard the news through a palace source. He and Renate have cut short their trip. They’re on their way home.”
Alex wasn’t surprised. “If he thinks he can put me and Isabella back together again, I have news for him.”
“That’s not his agenda, Alex. It never has been,” his mother confessed.
His brows knit together. “What are you talking about?”
“When your cousin died, and you still didn’t seem eager to marry Isabella, it was Vittorio’s intention to talk you into marrying Evelyn.”
Evelyn?
Alex was dumbstruck.
“Finding out you and Isabella are not getting married is the reason he’ll be arriving before morning. Carl let me know Vittorio has been secretly calling cabinet members to form a coalition forcing you to marry Evelyn for the good of the monarchy. He expects you to send Darrell and your son packing.”
Over the years Alex had tried to control his anger against his uncle for the way he’d treated Chaz. But by trying to pull off a coup like this to get closer to the crown, he’d started a war. One Alex vowed his uncle wouldn’t win.
“He’s out of his mind. It’ll never happen.”
“I’m afraid his jealousy of your father has driven him beyond rationality.”
“Dad?” a voice called out. “We’re here!”
“Mother? I’m sorry but I have to go. Thank you for telling me this. I’ll be in touch later.” He clicked off.
“Come out on the terrace.”
In a few seconds his son ran in to thank him again. Alex leveled his gaze on Darrell.
The white sundress against her golden skin was as stunning as her hair. The last rays of sun picked out the individual strands of gold and silver. Combined with eyes of amethyst, he couldn’t look anywhere else.
“I’m going to call him Brutus.”
With that declaration Alex was forced to pay attention to his son.
“It’s the perfect Roman name.”
“This is a fantastic view of the city,” Darrell murmured. “It’s like being in the helicopter.”
“Try these.” As Alex handed her the binoculars he’d brought out, her flowery fragrance swept him away.
He noticed her hands weren’t quite steady as she lifted them to her eyes.
“How incredible. You have to see this, Phillip.” Ignoring Alex, she handed him the glasses.
“Whoa—You can see everything!”
“From the time I was old enough to wander around by myself I always loved this view. So did Chaz. He would bring over his telescope and we would spy on people. When my father caught us, we were permanently banned from this apartment.”
Phillip laughed. “I bet you got in a lot of trouble.”
Darrell didn’t want to think about what form it had taken for Chaz.
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