CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Saturday, 09.42 a.m.
ELSIEPACEDINher suite. Her heart thudded, trying to escape her ribcage. She had to get out of here but she couldn’t. When she’d snuck in early this morning, she’d found her meagre luggage in the corner. Her mandolin had been brought from Amalia’s room. She’d showered. Dressed. A footman had delivered a breakfast tray that she’d not touched. There’d been a note from Security informing her when she’d be taken to the airport. She was to remain in her suite until then. Her bedroom, bathroom, lounge—all had views overlooking the sparkling sea. She couldn’t see the city—and none of those gathering crowds could see her either.
Her heart beat so hard but she couldn’t believe its warning. She couldn’t trust her feelings.
Surely it was loneliness making her respond so intensely to his attention? He’d trusted her, he’d let her in. It was flattery and infatuation and gratitude. It was the impossibility of anything more. They’d had such a short time to be together of course it was going to feel perfect—and as if it would be so for ever. It wouldn’t. There would come a point where they didn’t want each other this desperately any more. It was just sex. It would pass. The frantic panic of her own pulse was a fraud. Trusting her instincts? No. She couldn’t.
Now she wanted the minutes to fly.
Someone knocked on her door and she spun towards it.
‘Elsie?’ A whisper from behind the wood. ‘It’s Amalia.’
Elsie sucked in some courage to stabilise her emotions and managed to open the door and smile.
‘Have you had breakfast?’ Amalia looked at her curiously as she walked in with Callie, the assistant at her side. ‘You’re very pale.’
‘I’m not used to late nights at palace parties.’ Elsie tried to joke.
‘This is for you, Ms Wynter.’ Callie put a large parcel on the writing table and then left.
‘From you?’ Elsie asked Amalia.
‘No.’ Amalia shrugged. ‘Maybe Felipe?’
Elsie’s heart quaked. The parcel was massive. She didn’t want a gift. She certainly didn’t want to open it in front of Amalia. But Felipe wouldn’t have sent it with her if it was inappropriate...
‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Amalia looked intrigued.
She didn’t want any kind of recompense for her ‘time’. But she couldn’t resist tearing the paper. It was a box. And within that box? A custom-made mandolin case. She slowly, reverently opened it. Navy velvet, a gold protective cloth, black silk straps...the colours of Silvabon.
She blinked back tears. How had he got it so quickly? She was beyond touched.
‘Elsie, it’s gorgeous.’ Amalia was awed.
‘It is.’ She put her mandolin into it carefully, taking the time to recover from the explosion of emotion. ‘I’m heading to the airport soon.’ She made herself speak. ‘Before all the crowds line the streets and make it impossible for anyone to move.’
‘Don’t you want to stay for the coronation? You could stay for longer. Fly later.’
Elsie’s heart ached. ‘I have to go, Amalia. But I’ll email.’
‘The ceremony’s going to be so boring anyway.’
Elsie looked over at her. ‘You’re the only family he has who’s able to be there.’
Amalia’s expression pinched. ‘I’m not really family. He wants to send me away.’
‘He wants what’s best for you.’
‘Maybe I want to stay here. But he won’t let me.’
Yeah, Elsie had figured that. ‘Have you tried telling him how you feel?’
‘I don’t think he’ll listen. He’s already decided.’
‘Maybe try anyway?’ Elsie suggested.