Page 19 of Pregnant In The King's Palace

‘Why not?’ If Vala wanted an argument, he’d give her one. ‘It’s not as if she’ll ever be the future mother of my children.’

‘Do you know how insulting you’re being?’

When would he learn not to lead with that argument when there was no winning with it? ‘And by that, I mean she won’t be subject to the kind of scrutiny any wife of mine would receive. If I were to take up with Angelique in an unofficial capacity, no labels required, surely she would escape that dubious honour?’

‘Don’t be so sure.’

‘Or I could keep any relationship with her low-key and therefore of little interest to others.’

‘Because that worked so well for you last time you tried it,’ his sister snapped, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. How anyone could spend time with her these days and think her a lightweight with no real authority or inclination to wield it was beyond him. She was the mother of three young children, including four-year-old twins. She’d been wielding authority effectively for years. Over them. Over her husband. And all too often now, over him. ‘Honestly, Valentine, don’t you ever learn? If you want to be with Angelique, at least do her and everyone else the service of publicly and proudly admitting it.’

He could do that. ‘All right. This is me, owning my desire. I want Angelique in my bed and in my life and, the way I see it, apologising to her family for my sins against her and them is the first step towards me getting what I want. I’m trying to make amends. I don’t need your permission.’

His sister scowled. ‘Way to get me onside.’

‘I do want you onside. Also at my side, ready to step up and rule if need be.’

His sister winced, her discomfort obvious. ‘Don’t leave me holding the crown, Val. I won’t do it justice. The polls want you to stay on as King.’ And hadn’t that been a pleasant surprise, in amongst the daily headlines? ‘I know you were thinking about other options.’

‘I made a deal with myself,’ he admitted gruffly. ‘Stay and serve and in return I get to try and carve out a personal life that pleases me.’

‘Has your heart really stayed true to the little stable girl all these years?’

He shrugged, uncomfortable with the question. ‘What does it matter? That girl no longer exists. But the woman she became is almost within reach, and I want to get to know her better. I’m not going to compromise her. This time I can protect her and I intend to.’

‘All right. Your happiness is important to me, never doubt it.’ His sister’s voice was no longer deceptively light and airy. Instead, it weighed heavy with comfort and understanding. ‘Let’s bring her within reach.’

It was easy to be impressed by the Cordova family estate in the northernmost reaches of Spain. The lush green pastures and mountain backdrop catered beautifully to the raising of horses. Mile upon mile of immaculate wooden fencing, laneways and shelters crisscrossed the hillsides and valleys. Stables made of tile and stone dotted the landscape, and the main house was set low and wide against a natural escarpment that allowed for views that seemed to stretch on for ever. An aura of quiet wealth, contentment, and sensitive stewardship stirred the air here. A maze of stone-walled gardens surrounded the main house and pushed visitors towards a U-shaped entrance driveway.

Eduardo Cordova was there to meet him as he got out of the car. Valentine’s security detail had preceded him by minutes and were now spread like points of the compass, barely visible but there all the same. The Cordova patriarch regarded him thoughtfully, seemingly untroubled by the cavalcade. Given the list of royalty and billionaire families he regularly sold horses to, he was probably used to it.

‘Señor Cordova.’ Valentine held out his hand, not wanting or waiting for awkwardness to arrive. ‘Thank you for agreeing to see me.’ He counted it a win when the other man nodded and shook his outstretched hand before gesturing towards an archway to the left of the large main doors.

‘My office. This is not my family’s first encounter with those who travel with bodyguards. Your people have assured me our meeting place meets their needs. They can protect you from there and sight you as well.’ The archway led to a modest outdoor area with a central tree laden with lemons, a pond full of water plants, ample outdoor seating, and access to the house via glass doors that opened up one wall of a long library room almost completely. Two of Valentine’s guards were already in residence, one in the courtyard, another just inside a closed door that led further inside the house. ‘Come.’

The older man headed towards a cluster of low tables and tan leather club chairs. One of the tables had been set with refreshments for two. ‘Please, take a seat. Tell me, do kings still use poison tasters?’

Valentine took a seat that afforded him a view of the courtyard and the interior door both. ‘Not that I know of.’

Angelique’s father smiled and sat opposite. ‘Coffee?’

‘Please.’ He watched as the other man poured.

‘I have to say, I’m puzzled as to why you’re here.’ The older man settled back into his chair and made no move towards the fragrant brew he’d just served. ‘I’ve already told you that the mare you want is not for sale.’

‘And yet you’ve sold horses out from beneath your daughter before.’

‘Not ones of this calibre. You’re wasting your time if that’s all you came for.’

‘That’s not all I came for.’

The old man’s gaze didn’t leave his face. ‘I don’t read minds.’

No one said making this apology was going to be easy. ‘I wish to extend my sincere apology for the treatment I afforded your daughter, and by extension your family, all those years ago. I was young, foolish and arrogant and I regret my part in your family’s fall from grace.’

‘And there it is. The arrogance of kings,’ the other man murmured. ‘My family did not fall from grace. We merely stopped having anything to do with you.’

‘My loss, certainly. To that end, I wish to offer Angelique, and by extension your family business, leasehold access to a modest duchy situated on the Thallasia-Liesendaach border. It consists of a manor house, the surrounding grazing land and forests and several smaller dwellings. A gatehouse, a hunting lodge, a groundskeeper’s cottage. It has a manager, a gardener and a housekeeper—all paid for by the income from the estate. Some of the land is currently used for cropping, some of it for grazing. All of it perfect for horses. There is no duke or duchess—the title has been rotated out of use and remains with the crown. There are no plans to resurrect it.’

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