It was her brother. How he had her new number she didn’t know and figured it was probably best she never did know as she might have to kill the person who’d given it to him.
Gritting her teeth, she read:
Hope the wedding preparations are going well. Wondering if you can check with the organisers as my invitation seems to have got lost in the post. Alison and Johan have received theirs and are en route to Europe.
Oh, that cheered her right up. Alison was her mother’s sister, the aunt who lived in Australia. She imagined Alison and Johan’s delight in confirming to Andrew that they’d received the golden ticket he so obviously craved.
What an arrogant plonker that man was. To think she’d once longed for his approval! She didn’t need his approval any more. She didn’t need or want anything from him. If she didn’t have Marcelo and his family’s reputation to think of, she’d sell her story to the press and shame Andrew to the whole world. Still, this was just as good a shaming incident. No way the British press would let Andrew Sinclair’s failure to attend the wedding of the year go unreported.
Striding back to the castle, eager to share the message with Marcelo, she fired a message back that lifted her mood even more.
Oh, dear, that is a shame. Why don’t you ask your good friend King Pig if you can be his plus one as I hear he’s struggling to find a victim to take with him? Actually, no, scrap that as I think his invitation got lost in the post as well. Amazing how karma strikes, isn’t it? Hope Florence and the kids are all well. Please tell her that if she ever sees sense and dumps your sorry ass, she’ll be welcome here with open arms.
She pressed send as she stepped into the boot room and then blocked her brother’s number so she never had to deal with him again.
Feeling lighter in her heart than she’d done in years, Clara removed her boots and wandered through their utility room. She gave a cheery good morning to one of the maids, and was about to head to Marcelo’s offices, where he was tied up in meetings, when she spotted the tall man sat reading a newspaper at the round corner table in the living room.
‘Hello,’ she said, surprised to see Amadeo. ‘Are you waiting for Marcelo? He’s in meetings with—’
‘I have just left him,’ he said, cutting her off and rising to his feet with stiff awkwardness. ‘I am here to see you. Please, take a seat.’
The maid poured them both a coffee before Amadeo dismissed her with an impervious flick of his head.
‘Clara...’ Amadeo sighed. ‘It will make it easier for both of us if I can speak freely.’
‘I appreciate honesty, so go ahead.’
He nodded. ‘I thought as much. Before I go any further, I want you to know that none of this is personal. I have no wish to hurt your feelings, but I am concerned your behaviour could bring harm to my family.’
An icy shard sliced through her chest. ‘Is this about my dancing?’
‘You didn’t just dance the funky chicken or whatever it’s called the other night,’ he continued with a touch of disdain. ‘You told the world that you were expelled from school.’
‘I didn’t tell the world. I told the people in our group.’
‘All of whom have few scruples when it comes to sharing gossip. Which is what your expulsion now is. Gossip. It won’t be long until the press hear about it. They might already know—enough of them were in attendance that night.’
‘Photojournalists,’ she felt compelled to remind him.
‘The clue is in the journalist part. Have no illusions, they will hear about it and when they do it will be open season. We have no control over what the press chooses to print or what our people think. What concerns me is that you’re a loose cannon who will unwittingly give the press even more fodder.’
She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘I have nothing to hide.’
‘We all have things we wish to keep private.’
‘I don’t. In any case, they would have heard about the expulsion at some point.’
‘Possibly. The fact is, we’ll never know because you kindly fed it to them yourself.’
‘Do you want to cancel the wedding?’ she asked bluntly over the ice now infecting her entire body.
‘It’s too late for that,’ he replied with equal bluntness. ‘And as it is going to be very difficult for everyone if we have to spend the next year doing damage limitation whenever you’re incapable of knowing when not to speak, we’ve agreed that all your future engagements will be of the closed-house kind like the one you attended at the embassy, and all other scheduled engagements are to be given to other members of the family. This will leave you with very few engagements and so greatly reduce the potential risks for embarrassment.’
Cheeks burning with humiliation, Clara looked him straight in the eye. ‘This doesn’t just concern me, it concerns Marcelo. Have you spoken to him about this?’
‘These measures are his idea.’
Her stomach plunged like she’d fallen through a trapdoor. ‘You what?’