Chapter Thirteen
The thing amy had always feared had happened.
She’d always been secretly afraid that if he had known about the baby he would have rejected her and now, nine years later, that was exactly what he had done!
There were no tears, though, not even when her hot emotions cooled to cold misery as she jogged back to the castle, not looking back.
She slowed to a more sedate pace as she went past the musicians who were setting up in the marquee and the lighting technicians who were putting the last touches to the laser display that was timed for midnight, and went straight to her room.
She would leave tomorrow, she decided, looking at her dry-eyed reflection in the mirror, but she couldn’t leave them in the lurch tonight. Ben could have the business; she wanted a total change.
The annoying stitch in her side took a long time to go away and by the time it had subsided there wasn’t really time for a shower.
But she made time before dressing for work, glancing at the dress still hanging up.
She shook her head and straightened her shoulders before she donned her kitchen whites.
She walked into the kitchen and realised how much she would miss this place.
But not him—she hated him. He had made her love him all over again and she would never forgive him for what he’d said to her. Those accusations, they were… She shuddered when she thought of his words, remembering the emptiness in her life after she’d lost the baby.
Leo didn’t watch her leave. He turned in the opposite direction and stood there, staring out at the sea, his thoughts churning.
He had blocked her calls, he remembered now, taking petty satisfaction from the action, or maybe he had just been protecting himself from the fact that he didn’t think she’d try to contact him.
The idea of her being alone, like his own mother, coping with the tragedy of loss with no support, crushed something inside him. Maybe he should be asking himself why she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about the baby when she’d finally opened up about her mother.
And when she had told him about the baby, what had he done?
He’d blown any chance of them being together, of having a family together.
A look of shock flickered across his face as he turned his back on the ocean.
He wanted a family. He wanted a family with Amy.
He loved her to distraction—he always had and he always would—but he’d been too much of a coward to admit it to himself, let alone to tell her.
He’d been emotionally cut off and she had…
she had given everything and asked nothing from him in return.
He walked back across the beach, realising that he was in danger of becoming just like his grandfather, alienating everyone he loved.
‘What time are you heading off to mingle, Chef?’ Jamie teased when the party was in full swing and they were enjoying a lull.
‘I’m going to give it a miss.’
‘No, you have to go, to represent us.’
Jamie’s voice died at a nudge from someone.
‘You not feeling too good, Amy?’
‘Not really,’ Amy admitted. ‘But I’ll be fine,’ she said, producing a grin that didn’t fool anyone.
‘Why don’t you head off, have an early night?’
Like a drowning man, she clutched at the suggestion even though she wasn’t sure where it came from. ‘I think I might. I’ll just… Oh, dear!’
She could hear voices, see faces, but then she swayed and only saw black dots dancing before her eyes.
‘Leo!’ she cried before the blackness encompassed her.
It was a graceful faint and, luckily for her, a good catch.
‘Jamie, find a doctor!’ one of the other chefs ordered.
She came to and groggily tried to lift her head. ‘I need to…’
‘You need to lie down.’
‘I am,’ she said, her hands warm against the stone of the floor she was lying on. ‘I should get up.’ Then she felt pain and realised she couldn’t.
His grandfather looked at the glass in Leo’s hand and raised a brow.
‘That isn’t your first drink tonight.’
Leo flashed a sardonic smile at his grandfather. ‘And it probably won’t be my last, but don’t worry, I won’t disgrace the family name.’
‘So where is our chef?’
‘I don’t think she’ll be coming. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m going to need a new chef.’ He waited but there was no reply.
‘What, no lecture on the reckless disregard for social structure or even the dangers of sleeping with the help?’ he mocked, sliding deeper into his chair.
The old man’s expression didn’t change, despite the languid pose and the provocative attitude of his heir. ‘So, I take it you’re just going to sit there feeling sorry for yourself all night.’
Leo surged to his feet. The action and his fierce masculinity combined with the air of danger he was projecting, drawing stares.
‘You’re an idiot, this I already knew, but I had no idea until this moment that you were also a coward, Leo. I am ashamed.’
His eyes flashing fire, Leo towered over the older man, but he only held the pose for a split second before his shoulders drooped.
‘So am I,’ he said with a lopsided smile before he drained his champagne glass. Guilt had made him lash out at her—the knowledge that she had needed him and he hadn’t been there for her.
It was fear that had stopped him from following her, from begging for her forgiveness. Fear that she would reject him for the last time, and he wouldn’t blame her if she did.
‘I can change.’
‘Don’t tell me—tell her.’
A suited figure appeared, sensing the atmosphere but squaring his shoulders anyway, and interrupted two generations of Romanos. ‘I’m sorry, but I thought you should know that…’
A prickle of icy premonition ran down Leo’s spine. ‘What, man?’
‘Miss Sinclair is unwell. She just collapsed.’
‘Where is she?’
‘She’s still in the kitchen. We thought it best not to move her until a doctor had seen her.’
Leo flashed a frantic look at his grandfather, who just said, ‘Go!’
He looked at the messenger as Leo vanished and said drily, ‘Like I, or anyone else, could stop him.’
The kitchen had been cleared of staff, so the only people present were the young female chef and a doctor who was here as a guest, not professionally.
The icy hand of dread in his chest tightened. The guilt clawed at him like a fist as he thought of the last words he had said to her. He’d found her again after nine long years; she was his heart and his home, and now he could have lost her.
She was young; she couldn’t die.
But his mother had been young and she had died.
He closed off the internal dialogue, his attempt to run to her side foiled by the doctor.
‘A word first, please.’
Leo flashed a look at the pale, immobile figure on the floor. She looked so small, so fragile, so broken.
Swallowing his impatience, he allowed the doctor to take him a little to one side. ‘What’s happened?’
‘I assume I’m speaking to you as her partner and not her employer?’
It didn’t even occur to Leo to deny it and he gave a tight nod. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, it will be for the hospital to confirm but it appears that she could possibly be miscarrying.’
‘What? She can’t be… You’re saying she’s pregnant? Now?’
The doctor raised his bushy brows. ‘Yes. Miss Sinclair didn’t realise it either but, from our conversation, I would suggest it’s still very early. It’s not unusual at this stage but, given her history…’
‘But that was nine years ago…and yes,’ he added fiercely. ‘That was mine too. Is she in danger?’
‘I’ll be much happier if she’s in hospital.’
The blood drained from Leo’s face. ‘The baby?’
‘I’m afraid I couldn’t get a heartbeat, but that’s not diagnostic; the hospital has much better equipment than my stethoscope. The air ambulance should be here directly.’
Leo usually prided himself on being the master of his emotions, but appearing supportive and not scared out of his mind was one of the hardest things he had ever done.
He took a deep breath and squatted down beside the prone figure who was covered in about ten coats. He glanced at the young girl beside Amy and nodded his thanks.
She smiled back. ‘Chef, shall I…?’
‘You go—and thanks, Jamie.’
After Jamie left, Leo took Amy’s hand.
‘You’re missing your party. No, you can’t shout at me,’ she added when he looked ready to explode. ‘I’m the walking wounded… Well, there’s not much walking.’
‘Are you in pain?’
‘No, I’m fine.’
‘You’re a terrible liar,’ he said, gently pushing a strand of hair from her cheek.
She didn’t respond but she didn’t agree either. She was a good liar—she had been lying to herself for so long that she had, until recently, actually believed the lies she’d told herself. The I am over Leo lie, the I don’t love Leo any more lie.
Knowing she was carrying his baby and that it was likely she would lose it had ripped the plaster off those particular lies in the most painful way possible.
‘I’m sorry about this. I know we were usually careful about protection, and that this is the last thing—’
He pressed a finger to her lips. ‘Hush now and don’t tell me what I want or feel.’
‘Oh!’ she fretted. ‘You’re being so kind to me. Jamie won’t tell anyone about us, I asked her not to. And I think maybe I said stuff about you to the doctor too, because I panicked a bit.’
He swore the air blue and cradled her face gently between his big hands. ‘You know I’m never kind and Jamie can shout it from the rooftops if she wants to, for all I care.’ If he wasn’t so engaged with the immediate priority he would have been doing some shouting himself.
He kissed her forehead with a tender reverence that brought tears to her eyes because she knew he was only doing it because of the baby.
He turned at the rustle of activity around the doorway. ‘The ambulance is here.’
She closed her eyes. ‘I hate hospitals.’
‘Everyone hates hospitals.’
Her gaze was fluttering around the room in panic. ‘Mum was in and out so many times, and there were so many deathbed scenes before the real one. She liked me to read to her and—’
‘Don’t worry, I will be with you.’
Her brown eyes focused on his face. ‘Promise?’