Read How to Love a Princess Online

Authors: Claire Robyns

How to Love a Princess (14 page)

She shook her head.
“You’ve dedicated your life to research that saves people, that makes this
world a better place. You don’t want to rule Ophella, but you won’t be able to
back down from a fight if you believe that I’ve made a decision detrimental to
our people, a decision you don’t agree with. Your strong convictions of right
and wrong would never allow you to step back with a ‘so be it’ attitude.”

“I’ve had to fight for my
beliefs before, Catherine, and I don’t win every battle. Trust me, I’ve learnt
to deal with it.”

“But has your wife even
been your chief opponent? Trust me
,
it’s very different.”

“I do trust you,” he said
angrily. “That’s where we differ. I trust that you’d never make a decision that
was so wrong, I couldn’t live with it.”

“The world can’t always be
black and white. You’ll approach every argument solely from a humane point of
view while I need to approach it as a ruler. There will be a collision and,
afterwards, there’ll be nothing left of us to be rescued.”

“I have to disagree.”
Nicolas hung his head, taking a minute to regroup and stem his frustrated
anger. If he wanted to win this argument, he had to move from the defensive to
the offensive. He couldn’t defend himself on some future event that, as far as
he was concerned, would never occur. When he looked up again, he attacked with
the beginnings of a victory grin. “You should have more faith in yourself,
Catherine. I do.”

“I don’t need faith when
I’ve lived through the proof.”

“Not with me, you
haven’t.”

She threw her hands up in
the air. “What do I have to say to make you understand? What do I have to do to
make you see the reasons why we have no future?”

His grin deepened.
“There’s nothing you can say or do,
cucciola.”

“And everyone thinks I’m
stubborn?” She nudged her chin at him and stormed off into the tunnel.

Nicolas stayed where he
was for a while longer, tearing every one of her arguments to shreds inside his
head until he was left with a single question that he would
find the
answer to.

What
do I have to say or do to make you see the reasons as to why we do have a
future?

At least he knew exactly
where he had to start.

Catherine had been right
about one thing. He had a quirky penchant for making the world a better place.
And so far as he was concerned, Ophella would be a much better place without
Geoffrey Talacon.

 

 

 

 

6

 

 

 

H
is first
opportunity came later that afternoon when the early winter sunset and sudden
drop in temperature chased them from the tunnels. Geoffrey was waiting for
them, ready to pounce as soon as they stepped through the door.

“Where have you been?” he
asked Catherine. “I’ve been looking for you the entire day and that imbecilic
Gascon never knows a thing.”

Gascon knows more than the
lot of us put together, Nicolas thought smugly, momentarily willing to give the
bodyguard a couple of points so long as they were taken off Geoffrey.

“Um, we were just…”
Catherine turned her eyes up at Nicolas, as if he had a lie ready.

Nicolas was happy to
oblige. Throwing an arm around her shoulder, he pulled Catherine a little
closer and gave Geoffrey a lazy grin. “We took advantage of the sunny day and
decided to picnic down by the stream.”

His grin grew as she moved
her foot unobtrusively and ground her heel into his toes. Unfortunately, for
Catherine, the rubber sole of her trainer was no match for his leather boots.

“That sounds like fun,”
Geoffrey said a little uncertainly as he looked from one to the other. “I would
have come along.”

Nicolas felt Catherine
pulling away and tightened his grip. “But then, we
wouldn’t have had
nearly as much fun, would we, Catherine?”

Her head shot back just in
time to meet his adoring gaze with those flashing blue eyes.

He chuckled softly, then
made a show of remembering that Geoffrey was still there and grimaced
apologetically. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to monopolise Catherine’s time the
entire day. One thing led to another, you know how it goes when there’s
sunshine, champagne and that nice little picnic blanket without another soul
around for—”

“Nicolas,” Catherine
objected lightly, her voice totally at odds with the steel grip she used to
push his arm away. She left his side to tuck her hand in Geoffrey’s arm and led
him away before Nicolas could do more damage. What was he up to now, anyway?

“What was he talking
about?” Geoffrey asked stiffly.

Catherine patted his arm
with her free hand and laughed. “I have no idea. We actually went for a walk in
the forest and time did sort of run away with us. We started discussing my
mother and that led to all the other projects he’s worked on. It’s quite
fascinating, really. I never realised that—”

As she’d known he would,
Geoffrey quickly lost interest and cut her off. “My father called this morning.
He’s concerned about Helene and is thinking of flying in tomorrow.”

“Wonderful,” Catherine
exclaimed, genuinely looking forward to a visit from the elder Talacon. “My
mother will be delighted. How long will he stay?”

“If I know my father,
he’ll stay until he can take some good news back with him.”

Catherine smiled up at him
and saw the strain in his light blue eyes. For the first time in ages, she felt
positive that they were close to discovering the nature of her mother’s illness
and she wanted to share a small part of that with the Talacons. “It may not be
that long, then.”

His eyes cleared. “You’re
ready to set a date?”

Her smile froze as she
slid her hand free from his arm. “I thought we were talking about my mother.”

“Oh, yes, well, that as
well, of course. It goes without saying.”

The strain was back,
fogging his eyes, and Catherine was immediately unsettled. Why was he pushing
so hard all of a sudden? She’d always assumed that once she’d finally made a
decision, she’d be the one dragging Geoffrey to the altar in between one or
other party. He’d never been adverse to the idea when the subject had been
broached ad nauseam by their families, but he’d never dropped onto one knee
either.

“I’ve upset you,” he said,
frowning.

The observation was
actually remarkable for Geoffrey, but she wasn’t in the mood to dole out
compliments. “Yes, you have. Please excuse me, I have work to do before
supper.”

She hadn’t gone far when
he called her back.

“Catherine, I really am
sorry about your mother. I know you’ve a lot on your mind right now.” He gave
her a goofy grin that at times was quite endearing, although now was not of
those times. She shrugged. “I won’t bring up the subject again. When you’re
ready, you know I’ll be waiting.”

She nodded, her mind in a
turmoil as she watched him disappear into the Billiard room. Geoffrey had his
faults, but he wasn’t all bad. She had a plethora of childhood memories that
carried much of the weight pushing her in his direction when it came to making
a decision, but that was just it. Geoffrey had never grown up and she was no
longer sure that she could handle marriage to an adolescent boy.

No, she
was
sure.

She couldn’t do it.

In theory, Geoffrey was
the perfect solution, but she’d been deceiving herself every time she found yet
another reason to stall. She’d never intended to go through with it all. She
had no intention of ever marrying. Not if she couldn’t have Nicolas.

A moment of absolute panic
sucked her lungs dry and she couldn’t draw air. She put a steadying hand to the
wall and ordered herself to breathe. In. Out. Rest. In. Out. The tightness
passed.

It was no wonder she’d
deliberately blinded herself to the truth.

The consequences were
devastating.

She was deluding herself.
She alone could provide the next generation of Ophella rulers. She had to
marry. The future of Ophella was her responsibility.

And she had a
responsibility to Geoffrey as well.

Grim faced, Catherine put
her shoulders back, lifted her chin up high and set a determined course for the
Billiard room.

Geoffrey was at the corner
bar, splashing brandy into a glass.

“I’ll take one as well,”
she said softly, so as not to startle him.

After a quick glance over
his shoulder, he pulled a second glass from the overhead rack and poured a
single shot. “You’re learning my bad habits.”

She shrugged and returned
the grin as she accepted the glass. “It’s well after noon. Besides, we need to
talk and I think I’m going to need this.”

His thumbs stroked the
crystal tumbler cradled in his hands as he looked at her. “I’m listening.”

Catherine threw back the
brandy and waited for the burning sensation to travel down her throat and warm
her tummy. Then she set the glass on the counter and faced him. “I can’t marry
you, Geoffrey.”

He stared at her a long
moment, his mouth slackening, his brow creasing, and then he shook off the
shock and placed a hand on her arm. “You’re not thinking straight, darling.
Don’t make this decision now. I was wrong to push you.”

“I’m sorry.” She took his
hand from her arm and held it in both of hers. “I know this must be sudden and
unexpected, but I’m not going to change my mind.”

Slowly, as if a little
stunned, he extracted his hand and turned to lean on the bar counter. His head
tilted back as he tossed down the contents of his glass. “My father isn’t going
to happy about this.”

Catherine moved to take a
stool to the left of where he stood. “And what about you?”

His head slanted her way,
but he didn’t look her in the eye. “I suppose I’ve always found it a little too
incredible, marrying someone as special as you. I know I’m not the most
dependable of men, but I do care for you. I always have.” His gaze completed
the turn to meet hers. “How do I feel? I feel as if I’ve been waiting for some
giant bubble filled with unrealistic dreams to blow up in my face and, now that
it finally has, I guess that what I mostly feel is relief.”

“Oh, Geoffrey, I am so— I
didn’t realise how much—” The words choked in her throat.

“Don’t, Catherine.” He
stretched for the bottle and poured them each another brandy. “Don’t start
giving me attributes I don’t deserve.”

He pushed a tumbler into
her hands, then clinked it with his own, keeping their glasses touching as he
looked on her with a smile. “As much as I wanted you, I wanted everything else
that came with you as well. I wanted to be able to boast that I live in a castle
and own an entire country. For once, not even my father could have been
disappointed in a son who was actually a prince. And can you imagine the look
on my brother’s face?” He took back his glass and sipped. “You know me,
Catherine, and nothing much has changed. So don’t feel too bad about your
decision.”

Having long suspected much
of what he said, Catherine was nevertheless grateful for the confirmation. For
a moment there…but, no, Geoffrey was more disappointed than heartbroken. Thank
God. She’d never wanted to hurt him. “I hope we can still be friends.”

“Have we ever been
anything more?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Of course we will be.
That is, if my father lets me live past tomorrow.”

That uneasy feeling
returned. “You make it sound as if your father’s determined to see us married.”

“And your mother isn’t?”

Catherine thought on that
for a moment and realised that her mother was more astute, or maybe just more
inwardly honest, than herself. She’d stopped hinting long ago. It had been years
since she’d last contrived any manner of ploy to get them somewhere alone for a
weekend. “She would like it, but I think she’s already resigned herself to the
fact that it’ll never happen.”

“I’ll deal with my
father,” he said firmly.

Catherine slid to the
ground. “Thank you, Geoffrey. You’ve made this easier than it might have been.”

Even though she could not
have hoped for a more satisfactory outcome, Catherine’s nerves were worn
through and tattered at the edges from the unpleasant task of letting Geoffrey
down. She strolled into the hall on heavy legs, feeling so weary, it was an
effort to draw breath.

She was just about to head
up the stairs, thinking she’d lie down for an hour, when she glimpsed Nicolas
returning from outside, the case of samples he’d gone to retrieve in hand.

Her lethargy instantly
evaporated, she changed direction to confront him at the door. “Why did you do
that to Geoffrey?”

His shoulders lifted in an
unconcerned shrug. “We needed an alibi.”

Her brows rose sharply.
“And that was the best you could come up with?”

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