‘What problem?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? They’re lovely people; I don’t like deceiving them. In fact, now that I’ve met them, I hate it even more.’
‘Is this your way of trying to say you want out of this?’
Luis moved forward, picked up his own drink, trying to look as if the answer to his question didn’t matter a damn to him.
‘Not at all. If anything, now that I’ve met your father, I want to go through with it even more. He’s a lovely person, I took to him straight away and I’m so sorry that he’s ill.’
‘He likes you too.’
‘And that’s what makes this pretence so difficult. I just wish we could do this without deceiving him—and without all the fuss.’
The sudden shake in her voice, the way she sipped hastily at her drink, gave her away.
‘You’re scared?’
Her eyes looked like dark green ponds, deep and shadowed, as she glanced up at him.
‘Aren’t you? No, I suppose not. You must be used to all this—a wedding in the cathedral, pictures for the press. Do we really have to have a reception for all the village?’
‘It isn’t what I thought was ahead of me, remember. I always thought this would be Diego’s role in life. That as the eldest son and heir, he’d be the one going through the ceremonial wedding. But, yes, I’m afraid we do have to put up with it. They’ll expect it. It comes with the territory—marrying into a branch of the royal family, however small and obscure. Though in our case, it’s more like a twig.’
The tiny, half-hearted smile that flashed on and off her face left him in little doubt how she was feeling. Inwardly he cursed his mother’s over-enthusiasm for the wedding plans that had had her launching into them as soon as they had sat down for dinner. But then Dona Elvira had been looking forward to this moment for years. And she had no idea of the secret undercurrents running through the situation. The delicious cold gazpacho soup had barely been served before she had started a discussion on dresses and flowers and bridesmaids.
‘Hey, it’s not that bad.’
‘Isn’t it?’
She swung away from him, headed for the small settee beside the huge stone fireplace. The fact that she sat staring fixedly into the empty hearth told its own story, and Luis saw that her teeth were worrying at her bottom lip.
‘Isabella—don’t.’
He came to sit beside her, lifted an arm to put it round her shoulders, then changed his mind. A moment later he changed it back again and let his arm fall, his hand closing over the fine bones of her arm.
‘You’ll be fine. And I’ll be there with you.’
That brought her head round sharply, her expression startled.
‘Will you?’
‘Where the hell else would I be? After all, it’s my wedding too. And perhaps this will help make you feel better.’
Isabelle could only stare numbly as Luis pulled a box from his pocket and took out a spectacular diamond ring. She didn’t resist as he took her hand and pushed the ring onto the appropriate finger where it fitted perfectly.
‘How—how did you know my size?’
His mouth took on a cynical twist.
‘I remembered it. I have bought you a ring before, remember?’
How could she forget when the ring in question hung on a slender chain around her neck, nestling safe inside an identical but much larger one. The ring she had placed on his finger on their wedding day. The ring he had thrown at her in such a fury on the day he had walked out of her life.
‘I always promised you a proper engagement ring. We were in such a hurry to get married that you never had one before.’
‘And this is very definitely a proper engagement ring.’
And then, when she was totally emotionally unready to do so, she recalled his comment at the door of the castle. ‘You know only too well how to make me happy, mi angel,’ he had said. ‘And if you’re good, I’ll prove it to you tonight.’ And with a sickening lurch of her heart she knew why he was here.