'Anything specific?' she questioned, in a light tone. The kind of tone she'd once used to ask people if they'd like an extra blanket or not.
'Oh, I don't know-everything.' The words left his mouth with soft, explosive savagery, a torrent he'd been trying to deny for too long-even to himself. 'I hate it all. The demands. The lack of freedom and privacy. The way that everyone wants something from you. Everybody has a damned agenda.'
'But surely that was always the case? You've been royal all your life, Xaviero.'
'Only when I had to be.' He lifted his hand up to rake it back through the ebony hair, the light glinting off the pale gold of his crested cufflink. 'Why do you think I went to live in New York, where I was able to live a reasonably anonymous life? Because I didn't want to stand out. It's why I picked the isolation of the countryside, when I decided to settle in England.'
'Then this happened, out of the blue,' she said slowly, praying that his valet or her lady-in-waiting wouldn't come in and disturb them-because Xaviero had never talked to her like this before. 'And there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.'
'No. My fate has been sealed,' he said, with an air of finality, and then his face darkened. 'And yet I have no right to express any kind of dissatisfaction with my lot. How can I-when my brother is lying insensible in what seems like a cruel enactment of our mother's demise? And if I'm honest-really honest-weren't there times in our childhood when I wanted the monarchy? When I wished it was me being prepared for the kingdom, not Casimiro. What is it that they say,' he added bitterly. 'Be careful what you wish for.'
Cathy flinched, praying for the right words as she saw the deepening of the painful lines etched in his face. Something which could lessen his grief and his guilt and might make him see the positives in a life he would never have chosen for himself. Couldn't she persuade him that together they could learn a different way of living-if he was prepared to give it a try? But before she could speak, there was a gentle tap on the door and Xaviero opened it himself to find one of the butlers standing there.
Black eyebrows were arched in impatient query. 'Yes, what is it?'
'Highness, your guests have arrived.'
Xaviero nodded, wishing for a brief and crazy moment that he were back in her tiny cottage, sitting in the soft, scented oasis of her garden, drinking wine from those ridiculous cheap little tumblers she used to use. But there was no use yearning for the impossible-because hadn't he learnt by now that duty always came first? And how could he expect Cathy to adhere to that principle if he found he was trying to shirk it himself? 'We'll be right down.' He turned to her. 'Ready?'
'Yes.' She hesitated. 'Xaviero, there must be something you could-'
'Forget it.' Although soft, his tone was emphatic. 'It doesn't matter.'
She wanted to say that it did-but her heart sank as she saw the now familiar cool mask back in place and she sensed his confidences of just a moment ago already being erased from his mind. And yet his disclosures-far from bringing her closer to him-had left her feeling distinctly unsettled. Insecurity flooded through her as she realised she hadn't been imagining his frustration at his life here at all. And what would happen if that frustration built and built?
Side by side they walked into the anteroom where the assembled guests were waiting and Cathy carefully composed her face to prepare herself for the inevitable scrutiny. She was used to this by now-the way the women always looked her over and sized her up, as if trying to decide whether she was fit to be married to such a devastatingly handsome and eligible prince.
This was the part of the evening where she and Xaviero again went their separate ways-she to chat to the wives of the visiting delegation and to sip at a glass of water. She had given up taking wine before or during the meal-it made her grow too pink and uninhibited and sometimes she had to bite back things she really wanted to say.
It's as much a prison for me as it is for Xaviero, she realised suddenly as they were led into dinner, to opposite ends of the formally decorated table.
She watched Xaviero during the meal, her eyes straying to him despite her determination to respond enthusiastically to the man seated next to her. From time to time he would look up, his golden eyes sparking out a silent question-occasionally, he would even toss her a slow smile. And Cathy was aware that she seized on these little crumbs of affection as a starving dog would a piece of meat.
She saw the sultry woman at his side slant him a beguiling smile-and, to be fair to Xaviero, he didn't respond to it at all. No telltale silent flirtation in return. But that was because they were newlyweds-when she was still completely captivating to him in the bedroom and he couldn't seem to get enough of her. What would happen when that wore off-as people always said it did?
Trapped within the confines of their largely separate lives-might not Xaviero choose to dabble a little elsewhere, as royal men throughout history had been inclined to do? The opportunity was always there for them-they could have their pick of women so eager to bed a prince that discretion would be guaranteed. Why, didn't weak and ambitious men sometimes even offer up their wives as some kind of noble sexual sacrifice?
Maybe that was another reason why he had chosen a compliant wife-one so grateful to be married to him that she would put up with just about anything. Was he expecting her to turn a blind eye to his indiscretions as royal wives were famous for doing? She shuddered, quickly putting her heavy fork down before she did something unforgivable-like dropping it on one of the porcelain plates.
But it was like finding a tiny tear in an old dress and poking your finger inside it-only to discover that you were making the hole much bigger. It was as if tonight had opened the floodgates on all the inadequacies in their relationship-or had Xaviero's own words of dissatisfaction about his life helped to crystallise her own?
We've never even talked about children, she realised. Quickly, she gulped down a mouthful of water and felt it refresh her parched lips, but underneath the table her knees were trembling. Xaviero had continued to use protection after their marriage and she hadn't even questioned it-just tacitly accepted it as she had done so much else. Oh, she was certainly compliant! Did he want children? And could she bring children into this kind of peculiar marriage-or was this a 'normal' marriage in the royal world?
I'll ask him, she thought-though a wave of dark misery swept over her. I'll ask him tonight.
Dessert appeared-an extravagant confection of lemon cream and spun sugar-and Cathy was eyeing it unenthusiastically when one of Xaviero's aides entered the room and went immediately over to his side to speak softly in the Prince's ear.
Even without her crash-course in protocol, Cathy would have known that it was rare indeed for the Prince Regent to be interrupted when he was in the middle of an official dinner. And rarer still for Xaviero to suddenly rise to his feet, his face growing ashen.
Something was wrong. Helplessly, her fingers clutched at her napkin. She wanted to ask him what was happening but, of course, she couldn't do that for he wouldn't dream of telling her before an audience.
And then another aide entered and Xaviero quickly joined him at the side of the room, bending his dark head as the man spoke in a low, urgent tone in his ear. By now all the guests had abandoned any pretence at continuing with their dinner-as everyone seemed to sense that something momentous was happening.
What the hell was going on?
Xaviero's face grew suddenly taut as he spoke in a low voice to the assembled company. 'I regret to say that urgent matters of state mean that my wife and I must now leave you,' he said, and then paused before the golden eyes seared into her. 'Catherine, you will please join me?'
It felt like a summons, it most definitely was a summons, and never had a walk seemed so long as Cathy found her feet and slowly walked down the long dining room towards him. Searching his face for some sort of clue for the reasons behind this extraordinary break with protocol, she found none. Just a bleak and unfathomable countenance, but then, wasn't that Xaviero all over-because since when had she ever been able to read anything in his shuttered face?
In silence, they left the room-the aides following at a discreet distance-and once they were out of earshot of the assembled dignitaries she turned to him in perplexity.
'Xaviero, what on earth is going on?'
He seemed to struggle to find the right words. 'The hospital has just rung-'