‘Am I right thinking she’s not with us any more?’ he asked carefully.
‘She’s dead if that’s what you mean?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘People always say that,’ she mused. ‘That they’re sorry. Why is that, do you think?’
Disarmed at the question, he shrugged and answered as honestly as he could. ‘To be polite?’
‘As a form of social nicety?’
‘When you put it like that, yes.’
‘That’s what I thought. I mean, you didn’t know my mum, so why would you be sorry that she died?’
‘Sorry for you.’ And sorry that she could ask such a question. ‘How old were you when it happened?’
‘Six.’
He winced. Younger than he’d guessed. ‘And your father?’
‘He died of a massive stroke when I was twelve, but you don’t need to be sorry about that for me. I haven’t cried for him since his funeral.’
It was a comment that momentarily dumbfounded him, reminding him of how she’d so blithely informed him that she’d have to wait until she joined her father in hell before getting an apology from him.
How could this woman of all people imagine she’d be going to hell? And what had her father done to make her think he was already there and stop her shedding any tears for him once he’d been laid to rest?
Before he could put any of these thoughts into words, Clara, who’d been unpacking boxes, waved an arm at the items she’d laid out like a fan on the dressing room sofa, and chewed on her bottom lip. ‘So, what do you think? Tell me if you think I got carried away. I didn’t mean to buy so much but the clothes were all so fabulous and having no spending restraints went to my head—honestly, I earn a pittance at home...but in fairness, I do get free accommodation, but my actual wages are tiny so I don’t have much to spare on clothes and normally buy second-hand in charity shops—’
‘Clara,’ he interrupted.
‘Hmm?’
‘You don’t have to explain yourself. The credit card is unlimited for a reason and is yours to keep. Go mad with it whenever you want. I’ve arranged for you to have your own driver so whenever you want to go shopping or leave the castle for any reason, all you have to do is summon him and he will take you.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes. There’s a team of palace protection officers ready to accompany you too. I don’t want you to feel trapped in any way.’
‘You are the kindest, most thoughtful man. And after you let me spend all that money...’ She shook her head in wonderment.
‘I’m not doing it to be kind,’ he felt compelled to tell her. ‘You have to remember, in less than a month you are going to be my wife and will have the title of princess. All eyes will be on you.’ They would be on her whether she was a princess or not. He didn’t imagine Clara could walk down a street without turning heads.
She bit into her lip again then, almost shyly, said, ‘So what do you think? Are these clothes suitable for a princess?’
Recognising that his opinion really did matter to her, he smiled. ‘Yes, bella. They are as beautiful as the princess who will be wearing them.’
All as beautiful as the dress currently wrapped around her curvy body, a vibrant red-and-yellow-checked sixties vibe creation that suited her personality as much as it suited her looks, with a high neck, short sleeves and a hem that came to mid-thigh. When she’d appeared in his garden he’d had to stop himself from doing a double take, not just from how ravishing she looked but from the glow of happiness that had suffused her. It was a glow he’d longed to touch, and he’d had to root himself to his seat and force his features to remain neutral to counter it.
Colour spread over her cheeks and, for the first time, she flittered her stare away from him, only for a moment, but as her stare was normally so implacably bold, it was noticeable.
‘When we’re in public will we have to pretend to be in love?’ she asked, lifting the lid of another box.
‘Do you think you can?’
She caught his eye and, her cheeks back to their normal colour, grinned. ‘I will give it my best shot.’
‘Explain something to me,’ he said, asking one of the many questions about his soon-to-be wife that had occupied his thoughts that day. ‘How can you be okay going along with such a public lie when you’re clearly honest to your bones?’