‘Do you read only historical books?’
‘I’ll read anything.’
‘Me too, although I tend to lean towards thrillers and biographies. I have a library at my home in Madrid. I’m sure you’ll find something on the shelves you’ll enjoy.’
Caution made her reluctant to jump to conclusions. ‘Does that mean you’re going to let me come with you?’
‘I don’t remember you giving me any choice in the matter,’ he said dryly. ‘But you’re right, I didn’t make it a precondition of our marriage and, having thought about it, it would be good for you to see the place I call home. All I ask is that your presence there is kept from the press. I am serious about my privacy, Alessia, and would like any press intrusion to be kept to an absolute minimum.’
So he didn’t actually want her to come. Like this whole conversation, it was a sop to her.
She lifted her chin, determined not to show the hurt. ‘Our press office only notifies the press about my movements for official engagements so that won’t be a problem.’
‘Good.’
‘But if it does become a problem, I’m sure you’ll be glad to know I’ll only be able to travel with you next week. After that, I’m afraid my engagement diary’s full, so you will get your wish to have me out of your hair Mondays to Fridays after all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to do my dance exercises and take a shower.’ Already regretting the flash of bitterness she’d had no control over, Alessia rose from her chair and, in a softer tone, added, ‘Order yourself some breakfast—please, don’t go hungry on my account.’
Before she could walk away, though, he said, ‘Have you heard of Monica Binoche?’
She turned her face back to him. ‘The French actress?’ Monica Binoche was the actress Marcelo had had a crush on in his early teenage years. Alessia distinctly remembered him asking their father if she could be invited to castle so he could meet her, and their father laughing and replying with something along the lines of ‘If only.’
‘Yes.’ Gabriel took a deep breath, and watched her reaction closely as he said, ‘She’s my mother.’
CHAPTER NINE
ALESSIA’SMOUTHDROPPEDOPEN, her eyes widening in shock.
‘Monica Binoche is my mother and the reason I value my privacy so highly,’ Gabriel explained evenly. ‘My father was Pedro Gonzalez. You probably haven’t heard of him but he was a well-respected acting agent. He died in his sleep five years ago. Heart failure.’
She sat back on her armchair, her face expressing nothing but compassion. ‘That’s awful. I’m so sorry.’
He smiled grimly. ‘Thank you. It was not unexpected. He was seventy-eight and not in good health. I loved him, I miss him, but it’s my mother I want to talk to you about.’
He’d never discussed either of his parents with anyone but his sister in his entire adult life other than in generic terms, but Alessia wanted to know who he was and why, and until she knew, she would never trust him. He could see too that she deserved to know his past so she could understand that his refusal to play the royal media game was not anything personal or a slight against her or her family.
‘There is nothing my mother enjoys more than attention,’ he said. ‘It’s what feeds her. As children, my sister and I were accessories to her. I don’t mean to paint her as a bad mother—she tried her best—but she thought nothing of using Mariella and I as props for photo opportunities. For my mother, it’s a terrible day if she leaves the house and there isn’t a swarm of paparazzi waiting on the doorstep. I used to have to fight my way through them just to go to school. On quiet celebrity news days, they would sometimes wait outside the school gate for us.’
‘But I thought France had strict privacy laws?’
‘It does. Much stricter than what you have here in Ceres. What you’re not taking into consideration is that my mother encouraged it. She wanted her privacy invaded. It’s how she found validation—how she still finds it.’
‘That must have been rough for you,’ she said softly.
‘It was infuriating. And it was the reason I didn’t invite her to our wedding. She hasn’t used me as an accessory in twenty years, not since I gave her the ultimatum, but I didn’t want to put temptation in her way. Inviting her to a royal wedding, no matter how small it was, and expecting her not to put it on her social media feeds would be like locking a recovering alcoholic in a fully stocked English pub.’
Her eyes hadn’t left his face since he’d started his explanation. ‘What was the ultimatum you gave her?’
‘That either she stopped using Mariella and me as props for her ego or we’d move in full-time with our father.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘See? She does love us in her own way because it all stopped right then.’
‘Your parents divorced?’
‘They separated when I was twelve.’
‘Because of your mother’s behaviour?’
He laughed. ‘His behaviour wasn’t much better. My father was her agent and credited himself with ensuring her big break. As her fame grew, his jealousy grew and he started having affairs, I think to validate himself and to humiliate her. He wasn’t very discreet about it. He was thirty years older than her screwing around like a teenager. She was an aging ingenue terrified of the aging process and being thought irrelevant. It was a toxic combination that eventually turned into warfare between them. Both of them blamed the other for the destruction of their marriage and both refused to move out of the marital home or give an inch on custody of me and Mariella. Neither of them was prepared to give an inch on anything.’
Alessia’s head was reeling. Whatever could be said about her own childhood and upbringing, the security of her parents’ marriage had never been in doubt. She’d rarely heard them exchange a cross word. ‘That must have been tough to live with.’