His expression changed, as if he were making a visible effort. Again he addressed her as if she were stupid.
‘Miss Mitchell, do you really not understand that your nephew’s circumstances have changed now?’ His tone, quite blatantly, was patronising, and Lizzy felt her hackles rise through the ice in her spine. ‘It is inconceivable that my brother’s orphaned son should live anywhere but in his own country.’
She stared at him.
‘I can’t believe you’re saying that,’ she cut across him. ‘We’re going home—back to Cornw
all the moment we can. The sooner the better.’
She saw his face tighten.
‘That is no longer possible.’ His voice was flat. Implacable.
‘What do you mean “no longer possible”?’ she demanded. Her voice was rising, she could tell, and she could feel the adrenaline churning in her system. ‘Ben and I are going home. That’s all there is to it.’
‘Ben’s home will now have to be in San Lucenzo.’
The voice was still flat, still implacable.
‘There’s no “have to” about it. No question of it!’
Dark, long-lashed eyes stared at her.
‘Miss Mitchell—are you being deliberately obtuse?’ The question was rhetorical, for he plunged straight on. ‘There is no going back. Do you not understand that? Your nephew cannot return to the life you gave him. He must come to his own country to live.’
She leant forward, tension in every line of her body.
‘This is ridiculous. Absurd,’ she responded vehemently. Emotion was surging through her. ‘Completely out of the question. I can understand your reaction to the nightmare of this news story, and I have my sympathies for you and your family. If there is one thing I do feel sorry about for royalty, it’s that their private lives are raked over by the press—even when they do not conspicuously court such publicity,’ she threw in, with a glancing look in her eyes at him that drew an answering flash and a compression of his mouth. But she allowed him no time to interrupt her. ‘If anything, Ben’s presence in San Lucenzo could only be an further embarrassment to you. Why on earth would your family want to be landed with your late brother’s illegitimate child—” love child”, as I suppose the tabloids will coyly call him—as an ever-present reminder of his affair with my sister? Look,’ she went on, trying to be reasonable, even with the adrenaline running in her like a river in flood, ‘if you are worried that I might, God help me, be insane enough to speak to the press at any point in the future, then I’ll sign any gagging papers you want. The only thing I want for Ben is a happy, unspoilt childhood. He can’t help his parentage, and I won’t let it affect him adversely.’
He was staring at her again. She wished he wouldn’t do that. Not just because his eyes were the most extraordinary she’d ever seen, but because he was looking at her as if she were from another planet.
His mouth tightened. Italian broke from him, angry and incomprehensible.
Then, as if he were making a monumental effort to control his reaction, he spoke again, and she stared wildly at him, stomach churning.
‘You do not seem to understand. My brother did not have an affair with your sister.’
‘But you’ve just said—’ she launched.
His hand shot up, silencing her.
His dark eyes were completely opaque again.
‘He married her.’
Lizzy felt her mouth fall open. Her jaw drop like a stone. With numb, unconscious effort she closed it again, then spoke.
‘My sister married your brother?’ Her voice was dazed.
‘Yes. The day before their fatal car crash. I have seen the marriage certificate. It is…’ he paused ‘…quite legal. Apparently—’ his voice was as dry as sand ‘—the name Ceraldi was also unknown to the celebrant.’
She got to her feet, staring at him blindly.
‘I don’t believe it.’
It was denial again. Just the same as when the man standing in front of her had told her he was a royal prince—and so had his brother been.
And if Maria had married him that meant Ben was—