Page 49 of Cinderella's One-Night Baby

The party Andrés had organised intending it to be a lunchtime affair spread into the evening. His staff were as excellent and efficient as always, bringing out an endless supply of food and ensuring the garden bar was always fully stocked. After an especially vigorous game of football in which Andrés, Lucas, Raul and Gabrielle made a team against his father, Mateo his other godson, Mateo’s father and Sophia’s husband, and thrashed them eight nil—Gabrielle made a surprisingly effective goalkeeper—the happy, exhausted children were sent to bed in Lucas’s room and the champagne was opened.

Music piped through the garden speakers, they pulled chairs into an informal circle and everything was great, the most fun he’d had with his family since he could remember, and then his parents, who’d kept their sniping at each other down to pointed barbs and muttered insults, spoiled the relaxed atmosphere by having a stand-up blazing row that ended with his mother storming inside and his father rolling his eyes at anyone who would look at him.

A hand covered his. ‘Are you okay?’

He locked onto Gabrielle’s eyes and felt much of the poison witnessing that charade had induced drain away. ‘I’m good.’

Her lips curved in sympathy. ‘That was quite the performance.’

‘That is one way to describe it.’

‘It’s strange how Sophia finds their behaviour funny but you find it toxic.’

‘She finds it funny now but she hated it as much as I did when we were kids.’

‘Maybe her own marriage gave her a change of perspective.’

He grunted.

‘Have to admit, I’m leaning to the Sophia side.’

A black eyebrow shot up. Gabrielle shrugged. Having observed his parents together that day, she understood where Andrés was coming from but as an outsider, she didn’t think it was all bad. ‘The impression I get is that they seem very close. Maybe arguing is their language with each other. Everyone else just seems to roll with it.’ She shrugged again. ‘I don’t know, I’ve only just met them, and as we’re speaking of your family, you never told me Sophia faked her illness for the party.’ She strove to keep her voice casual as she said this.

The more she’d thought about it, the more Gabrielle thought she should have guessed, but then how could she have? Who faked illness to shoehorn a stranger to take your place at a royal party? To Gabrielle, Sophia had been just another rich woman used to the world revolving around her, albeit an unusually nice one.

Now she thought she understood Sophia’s thinking. Sophia was happily married. Her brother had had a succession of affairs with the same breed of women, none of whom made him happy because he’d chosen those women deliberately. She’d spotted her chance to foist someone different on him, someone who, in her words, had thepotential to be perfect for him, and had taken it.

It was those words... Every time she thought of them, the weight in her stomach grew.

There was a flash of surprise and then comprehension and a low chuckle. ‘She gave you a straight answer on that?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s more than I got when I confronted her. By the time we left for the palace I knew but she refused to admit it outright. My sister is a law unto herself.’ His black eyes gleamed. ‘You know she will take credit for the baby when we tell them?’ Which would have to be soon as it wouldn’t be long before Gabrielle was visibly showing. They’d agreed to wait until after the weekend before sharing the news with his family.

From the corner of his eyes, Andrés spotted his mother come back outside. Usually this would not be something he thought twice about but with Gabrielle’s observations about his parents still fresh, he turned to watch her. It was only because he was actively watching that he noticed her trail her fingers over the back of his father’s neck as she retook her seat next to him. If he hadn’t been observing them so closely, he would have missed his father reach back to squeeze her hand.

The hairs on Andrés’s arm lifted.

He closed his eyes. When he reopened them, he noticed his mother had already started an animated conversation with one of his cousins but that her right foot was pressed against his father’s left foot.

‘Andrés?’

His heart began to pound.

‘Andrés?’

Slowly turning his head, he met Gabrielle’s concerned stare and suddenly found it impossible to look away. The thoughts churning in his head were as impossible to comprehend as the emotions smashing into his chest.

Andrés had always kept his head down when his parents argued, normally escaping to another room until the storm fully passed, not wanting to be forced to see their hatred for each other as well as hear it. It felt like he’d done that for his entire life.

How many other small intimacies had he missed over the years? And as he wondered this, the realisation came that although he’d lived with them, he hadn’t lived their marriage. He’d never worked the hours the two of them had during his childhood and still not earned enough to meet the bills.

Was it any wonder they’d taken the stress and exhaustion out on each other?

The stress from their lives had gone and now they liked to bicker and argue for fun or out of habit, but whatever their reason...

So what?

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