He kissed her. “However you want it.”
“You’re so easy.”
“For you, anything,” he told her. And he meant it.
He was feeling so good—about their life together, about the new baby, about everything—that he almost succeeded in forgetting his dread of the eventual moment of truth concerning Trevor.
And as that day went by and the one after that and his mother failed to invite him to a private audience, his dread diminished even further. For whatever reason, it appeared that his mother was not going to call him to task on the subject of his look-alike “stepson.” Perhaps she’d decided that the similarity was merely a coincidence. Or perhaps she simply didn’t wish to interfere.
Or possibly, she had come to the conclusion that when Rule was ready to talk about it with her, he would. Whatever her rationale on the subject, she was staying out of it.
Rule was grateful. And relieved.
That first Tuesday, they got through the press conference where they formally announced their marriage to the press, though by then, their marriage was old news in the fast-moving world of the scandal sheets. Wednesday, they visited with the archbishop of Montedoro to request a wedding in the church. The archbishop was only too happy to help speed up the process. They took their expedited marriage classes on Thursday and Friday and then, quickly and quietly, on the Saturday after Rule moved his new family to Montedoro, he and Sydney were married in the church.
Rule had three days of meetings in Paris that next week. Sydney, Lani and Trevor stayed in Montedoro, where Sydney and his mother spent some time alone, getting to know each other a little. In bed the night of his return from France, Sydney said that his mother had asked her about Trevor’s father.
Rule kept his voice light and easy. “And what did you tell her?”
“The truth, of course. That I wanted a family and I didn’t have a man and so I went to a sperm bank. She took it well, I think. She smiled and said what a determined woman I am.”
“And you are.” He kissed her. She kissed him back. Nature took its course from there.
The next day, Liliana returned to Montedoro for a brief visit at HSH Adrienne’s invitation. Sydney got to meet her. The two hit it off—the delicate Alagonian princess and Rule’s tall, brilliant and determined American bride. Rule wasn’t really all that surprised that they got along. They were both good women with tender hearts.
It was the same with his sisters. Sydney liked them all and the sentiment was mutual.
Rule and Sydney began to talk of a more private life. Sydney said she would prefer to live in their own house by the time the new baby came. So they engaged an architect to renovate Rule’s nearby villa, modernizing and enlarging it to make it more comfortable for their growing family.
He and Sydney were so happy. He never wanted to do anything to hurt her, or to damage what they had together. In fact, sometimes he found himself wondering why, realistically, she even needed to know that he was actually Trevor’s father.
Why should she know? What good could the truth possibly do her—or anyone—now? He had found her and his son and he had made things right for all of them. To tell her now would only upset her and drive a wedge between the two of them. It would threaten, and might even destroy, what they had as a family.
Rule’s father would keep his secret, especially if his mother wasn’t pushing to know more. And sometimes the wisest course was to do nothing, to leave a perfectly wonderful situation alone. He decided he would do just that.
And then he would realize how despicable that was. He should have told her at the first. It was information she had every right to know.
He should tell her now. Today.
But then, somehow, the moment was never right. Another day would go by.
Soon, he would promise himself.
He would tell her soon.
But he didn’t tell her. And every day he said nothing, it only got harder to imagine being truthful. Every moment that went by in which he kept his silence, he was more and more deeply mired in the lie, more and more convinced that his silence was the best thing for everyone.
And then, on the last Wednesday in May, the truth finally caught up with him.
Chapter Twelve
It happened in the morning two weeks and five days after Rule brought his new family to Montedoro.
Caroline was waiting for him when he entered his office at the palace. She held a tabloid newspaper in her hand.
“Sir,” said his secretary, her expression carefully neutral, “a particularly annoying article has appeared in The International Sun.” The Sun was a London-based paper. A weekly, it claimed to deliver news. And it did. News on such burning issues of the day as which celebrity was heading for rehab again and which film star was having a torrid affair with His Grace, the very married Duke of So-and-So. “I thought I should bring it to your attention right a
way.” It was one of Caroline’s duties to keep up with both the legitimate news of the day and the scandal sheets. She made certain Rule knew of any and all information that appeared in print about him, his country, his business dealings and/or the people who mattered to him.