Page 21 of Crowned For The King's Secret

‘He’s not my aide!’ Sandro refused to allow any link between himself and Gregorio to go unchallenged. ‘The man who you’ve been speaking to regularly, from whom we believe you’ve been receiving payments through a complicated series of companies and trusts, is my cousin Gregorio. The pretender to the throne of Santa Fiorina. Whose father murdered my parents in a coup.’

He was standing now, glaring down at her. He couldn’t even remember getting up from his seat.

She paled, white as the paper on his desk. Had she not been sitting down he would have helped her to a chair. Nic looked up at him, blinking. Sandro took a deep breath to calm himself. Whatever might be going on between him and Victoria, Nicolai would never suffer for it.

‘No. His name was Guido Falconi. He said he was your representative. He had a letter from your office saying he was acting for you.’

So she claimed, but he knew all about lies. As much as he desired to, he still didn’t have it in his heart to believe her when so much was at stake. He wouldn’t be the first man taken in by a beautiful and accomplished actor.

‘I’m sure he was most convincing.’ He wasn’t so sure at all. ‘However, we know who we saw during surveillance.’

The knowledge of that man anywhere round his son was a bad thing.

‘You were watching me... That’s how you found out about Nic?’

How could he admit that he’d wanted to see her again? Revisit their night together? That would be a weakness he could never share.

‘Gregorio made certain promises on leaving the country. My security needed to ensure they were being kept, given I was visiting the UK. You were incidental.’

Lies. She’d always been the main game. A look washed across her face, a fleeting burst of something that seemed a lot like hurt.

‘Nice to know where I stand,’ she murmured.

He wished he could have taken the words back. In his role as King there was no room for doubt. The wounds of his country were deep and needed strength to heal. With Victoria, all he did was doubt himself.

‘As for Isadora,’ she said, ‘Nic needsme, he doesn’t need someone else to look after him. Especially someone I don’t know.’

‘Dora is an aunt to six, and part of my personal protection team. I’ve trusted her with my life on more than one occasion and I trust her with Nic’s.’

Victoria’s eyes widened, the stone-grey turning dark and troubled as if she needed reassuring.

‘I promise you can also trust her with yours. She knows the importance of looking after the mother of my child. It might also allow you some time to do your stretches.’

Her eyes seemed to become a little glassy and overbright. She ran her hand through Nic’s curls. Nodded.

In a litany of recent failings, he took it as a win.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘COMEON,NIC, let’s go and see if we can feed the kittens. Remember how we say it?Gattini.’

Victoria reached down and picked Nicci up, grabbing a bag with some toys and a little packet of cooked chicken. She’d made friends with the kitchen staff a few days earlier after an introduction from Isadora. Vic had hated simply calling down for warm water so she could make up some formula, or when she felt like having a snack. The first time she met them, she took Nic with her and they’d all crowded around her son, smiling, loading him with attention. Today they’d asked her to promise to bring Nic back for a visit.

She left her suite, asking Security for directions to the walled garden. One led the way, another followed till they reached a door which opened onto a cloister with carved columns, leading to the gardens beyond. They stayed in the shade because she’d told them she didn’t want them scaring the kittens away.

The air brushed her skin. Warm, and scented with the fragrance of flowers and herbs. The space was ramshackle and overgrown, looking like an unkempt kitchen garden with citrus trees and undergrowth intermingled. Butterflies flitted lazily from one bloom to another. It was as if she could finally breathe again, being here, being outside in nature. She took a gravel path through the tangle of plants and found a bench under a gnarled olive tree, where she and Nic sat, waiting.

She’d known that mid-morning was the time she’d most often spied the cat family. She tossed a few pieces of meat in front of them as an encouragement whilst Nic played with a toy beside her.

It didn’t take long.

She caught flashes and a rustling in the undergrowth but she guessed the smell of cooked chicken was too much of a temptation. From under a fat basil bush sneaked a tiny calico kitten. It looked at her then crept forward and ate some of the meat. Soon, another three kittens followed.

‘Oh, you little darlings,’ she whispered. Nic giggled and the kittens stilled, but Victoria tossed more meat to them, and hunger overtook their fear. She wondered how they got in, though the walls around the garden seemed to be crumbling in places. Plenty of room for a cat to get through, and safe enough from predators, she supposed.

As she sat, the mother began creeping through the undergrowth.

‘Hello,’ she whispered, and she threw her some food.

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