Chapter 12Marco
Chapter 12
Marco
The garden party is in full swing in the palace gardens, and I’m actually enjoying the pleasant hum of conversation and the soft notes of the string quartet, floating on the late spring breeze. The gardens look immaculate, of course, with high hedging surrounding us on all sides, grass under foot, and a picturesque arbor covered in flowers, under which Princess Sofia is currently talking with Enzo.
A passing waiter offers me a scone covered in jam and cream, and I thank him as I take a bite.
“Rather splendid, aren’t they?” a booming voice says, and I look up to see King Frederic giving me a tight smile.
“Your Majesty,” I say with a bow. “Yes, they’re delicious. Have you tried one?” I lick a blob of cream from my thumb.
“I meant your brother and my daughter, dear boy,” he replies gruffly.
“Sure. Yes. Splendid,” I agree, because the last time I saw the King I was busy questioning his judgement in throwing these two together.
“Sir, can I say how sorry I am for the way I spoke in front of you that time? I was blindsided and hadn’t thought things through.”
“If you had, would you have offered a different opinion?”
I think about it for a moment. “No.”
He raises his brows. “At least you’re honest. Not a bad quality in a man.”
“Thank you.”
The waiter returns with fresh scones with jam and cream and the King takes one from the tray. “Let’s see if they’re as good as you say.” He takes a bite, some of the cream sticking to his mustache.
“Your verdict, sir?” I ask.
His lips lift. “Delicious.”
I grin. “At least we can agree on that.”
“How are you finding life back in Ledonia? I understand you've been travelling.”
“I spent quite a number of years travelling the world. I had a lot of amazing experiences, but as they say, there's no place like home.”
He gives me an approving look. “I knew the other Lord Strozzi. Your father.”
The mention of my dad tightens my chest .
“He was a fine man. It would seem you take after him more than your brother.”
“My dad and I were really close.”
“I imagine you miss him.”
I press my lips together, feeling the sting of his loss. “I do.”
“What do you think of the couple? Are they well suited?”
I glance over at the couple once more. They don’t look quite as stiff and uncomfortable as they did at the gallery when I turned up late last week, but no one could accuse them of looking at ease with one another, their smiles painted on for the audience. “I haven’t seen a lot of evidence of it yet.”
“She’s determined he’s the one.”
“I believe she is.”
We stand in silence for a moment as we both eat our scones.
“They don’t seem to have much spark. Not much chemistry,” he says.
I’m not sure how to respond, so instead I take another bite of my scone, focussing on its delicious fluffiness.
“Your Majesty,” a woman in her sixties with a feather hat atop her head, gives us a tight smile, saving me from having to comment on the complete lack of chemistry between the princess and my brother.
“Lady Silverton. How nice to see you,” the King says.
“Lovely party, Your Majesty. But then they always are at the palace,” she coos. She turns to me. “You’re Enzo’s brother, I’m told.”
“I am indeed. Marco Revera.” I extend my hand, and she clasps the tips of my fingers as though she can’t quite bring herself to expose any more of her skin to mine. I’m not sure why. I scrubbed my fingernails before I reluctantly threw on the suit Enzo bought me. I look about as good as I can manage.
“You’ll know my son, Austin. He went to school with you and your brother.”
“Of course.”
Neither of us mention his botched proposal the night of the Husband Hunting Ball. That would be in bad taste.
“If you’ll excuse me, I must mingle,” the King says, and he flashes me a smile before he leaves Lady Silverton and me alone.
“You must be awfully hopeful that your brother and the princess end up engaged. Your family could be forever connected to royalty.”
“Yes. That’s… err, great,” I reply. Why would I care about being connected to royalty? Even if it could help me with say, getting landscape gardening commissions, for instance, I wouldn’t want to use it. I’d never know whether I got the job simply because my brother is married to a princess.
“You’ll be able to use those connections. What is it that you do? Finance? Banking? Or are you one of those high-flying lawyer types, always in and out of court? So exciting.”
“I’m a landscape gardener,” I reply, and she makes a face as though all the water has been sucked from her features, leaving a terrible taste in her mouth.
“Oh. Well, in that case, maybe they’ll let you design a new park or something.”
Condescending much, Lady Silverton?
I lean into it. “Maybe they’ll let me redesign the palace gardens. That’s my hope, anyway.”
“Oh, I doubt that. These gardens have been the same for hundreds of years. Whatever would you do?”
“I’d pull everything out and start again. Use concrete blocks, I think, and quite a lot of gorse and other prickly plants. Make it a sort of postapocalyptic wasteland, showing a few shoots of new life as a symbol of hope.”
Who knows where I’m getting all this, but I’ll say one thing, it’s fun.
Lady Silverton’s face is a study in alarm. She opens her thin lips to speak, but she’s clearly lost for words.
“I plan on submitting my ideas to the King and Queen when I have a beer with them later today.”
“Really? You drink beer with the King and Queen?”
“Lady Silverton, as if I would joke about something as important as beer?” I say conspiratorially. “And royalty,” I add for good measure.
“Quite.” She gives me an uncertain look. “Now, I’ll leave you. Have a splendid afternoon.”
“You, too, Lady Silverton.” I watch as she glides away, a stick figure in a perfectly fitted dress.
“Ah, there you are, Marco.”
I turn to see Princess Amelia smiling at me, wearing a pretty summer dress. She’s accompanied by a woman a few years older than her, with pale blonde hair and a nervous look in her eyes.
“Your Royal Highness,” I say as I bow my head.
“I told you to forget about all that. It’s stuffy and elitist and boring. This is my friend, Sigrid. Sigrid, say hello to Marco Revera, Enzo’s brother.”
“Hello,” she says and her face flushes pink.
“Hi,” I reply. She looks familiar, but I can’t pick from where.
“I brought Sigrid along today because I thought she might get along with some of the guests,” Amelia says, eyeing me pointedly.
This woman is clearly her match for Enzo. She’d messaged me that she had someone in mind, but I had no idea she would bring her to the garden party. I was meant to find a list of men who might dazzle Sofia, but so far I haven’t been able to think of anyone appropriate for someone who can be so stiff and formal and acerbic, and at times so sweet and easy to talk to. Well, until she remembers herself and stiffens right up again. It’s like she’s two people in one, only the side of her I got to see that day in the library is the one I find so very intriguing.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sigrid. Are you Scandinavian, by any chance?” I ask. With her pale skin and hair and light blue eyes, she looks like she stepped right off the streets of Stockholm.
“I’m from Sweden originally, but I’ve lived here in Ledonia for some years now. I work as an accountant at a firm in the city,” she replies, her voice so soft and quiet I need to lean in just to hear her.
“Is your favorite type of music heavy calculations?” I joke, remembering who she reminds me of. Enzo’s ex-girlfriend, Maren, also a pretty blonde from Sweden. In fact, she’s almost Maren’s spitting image, right down to her shyness.
I could applaud Amelia for doing so well.
Not that I support this idea of hers to find Sofia and Enzo’s soulmates. Let’s face it, it’s the sort of plan a tween would come up with, not a woman who’s twenty-three—and a half. I know I initially went along with it, but when I woke up the next day, I realized how unlikely it was to actually work.
People spend their entire lifetimes searching for their soulmate. How can she expect to find them for our siblings within this month’s trial period?
But now that I’m looking at Sigrid in her pale-yellow dress and Cartier watch—Enzo has always been impressed by Cartier watches—I’m second guessing myself .
“Is there a genre of music called heavy calculations? Because I’ve never heard of it before,” Sigrid replies, her eyes darting uncertainly to Amelia.
A Scandinavian accountant who doesn’t get my jokes. She couldn’t be more Maren if she tried.
When I’d given Amelia what I thought was Enzo’s “type,” I had no idea she would go out and somehow find precisely the sort of woman he’s dated in the past. Amelia may have complained about Sofia picking her husband from a checklist in a spreadsheet, but she’s gone and done pretty much the same for Enzo, using my description rather than checking a bunch of boxes.
“I think Marco’s just being silly,” Amelia replies with a spark in her eye. “He’s often quite silly. Aren’t you, Marco?”
I hold my hands up in surrender. “That’s me. Total goofball.”
“I don’t go much in for silliness, I’m afraid,” Sigrid sniffs as though the very idea is distasteful.
I pull my lips into a smile. That’s exactly what Maren would have said. “I’m sure you don’t.”
Amelia could only have done better if she’d managed to grow Enzo’s ex in a petri dish.
“Amelia, a word?” I ask, not waiting for her reply, instead leading her a couple of steps away from her friend.
“Isn’t she marvellous?” she trills in excitement.
“Look, I know I initially entertained the idea, but I’m not sure we should go through with this.”
“Of course we should. Look at her. She’s perfect for him.”
Sigrid is clasping her hands at her waist, looking about as comfortable at the garden party as a cat is at a kennel.
“You told me what he likes and she’s exactly it, right down to the boring numbers stuff. I rather imagine you should be thanking me. She looks like his ex-girlfriend, she likes the boring things he likes, and she’s single. Perfect!”
I’m about to respond when I spy Enzo moving in our direction, and before I can stop her, Amelia signals for him to join us.
“Why did you have to do that?” I grind out.
“You know why,” she replies as she extends her hand and beams at Enzo.
“Your Royal Highness,” he says, taking her hand in his and giving a bow.
“Ah, Enzo. Just the man I wanted to see,” she replies sweetly. “Allow me to introduce you to my dear friend, Sigrid Olsson. She’s an accountant from Sweden. Sigrid, this is our new friend, Enzo Revera.”
I watch as they greet one another, and I wonder if either of them feels a spark as Amelia hopes. I’m about to say so to Amelia when suddenly, the peace is shattered by loud, excited barking. I turn to see the two labradors from the throne room that day, one golden and one black, charging through the garden gate with unbridled happy abandon as though everything and everyone is here for their amusement.
“That’s Lemon and Pepper!” Amelia gasps. “They’re Sofia’s girls. Oh, they are so naughty today. Whatever got into them?”
“I don’t like dogs,” Sigrid whines, her voice unnaturally high, with an appalled expression on her face.
“Come with me. I’ll protect you,” Enzo says as he bundles her away.
“Naughty Lemon and Pepper!” Amelia scolds as they whizz past us, and we watch in shock as the black lab, who I assume must be Pepper, splashes into the pond in excitement before she darts out and shakes out her fur, droplets of water firing like bullets at surrounding guests. They protest with squeals, as though they’re actually being shot at, rather than being splashed with a little bit of water.
Princess Sofia springs into action in a panic, calling, “Lemon! Pepper! No!”
The golden lab completely ignores her as she leaps up onto a table, knocking over delicate china teacups, which fly through the air, crashing to the ground, tea and coffee spraying in every direction.
Sofia races after Pepper as the dog darts into the crowd, causing people to scatter, as though she were some kind of killer on the rampage when in truth, being a lab, all she wants is something delicious to eat.
Defeated, Sofia returns her attention to Lemon, who’s now got another table in her sights.
Amelia and I both lunge for Pepper’s collar but miss as she races past us and snatches a complicated looking canapé from someone’s hand, devouring it in one bite.
“Princess Sofia! Please control your dogs!” Enzo snaps as he guards a terrified Sigrid, his sharp voice cutting through the chaos.
“I’m trying!” Sofia replies in exasperation as she grapples with Lemon’s collar, pulling her from the table, sending more china cups flying. Her cheeks are bright red, and she’s clearly mortified. Pepper is still causing havoc, being chased by a couple of members of palace staff, outwitting them at every turn. Of course, the dog thinks it’s a fine game of chase, and her tail is swishing rapidly from side to side as she darts between people, tearing through the arbor, causing it to sway as though it’s about to fall.
I dash over, reaching the arbor before it hits the ground. I collect a few of the flowers that have fallen to the grass and stuff them back into the arbor’s crevices. Just as I’m reaching down, Pepper charges toward me and places a wet lick on my nose. I reach out and get a hold of her collar.
“Time to settle down now, Pepper,” I say in a firm tone. The dog looks up at me as though I’ve told her something wonderful, her tail swishing, her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth, waiting for her next instruction.
“Good girl,” I coo, petting her glossy black fur. She really is beautiful—even if her behavior is a little too wild for the day’s proceedings.
Enzo looks thunderous, his hands balanced on his hips as he glares at the decimation. “They’ve ruined everything,” he says with an icy glare, his lips pinched.
“They’re just being dogs,” I tell him.
“Exactly.”
“Would you like me to take her from you, sir?” one of the palace staff asks, a leash in his hand.
I don’t want to risk a sloppy handover and Pepper escaping once more. “I’ve got it from here.” I take the leash and clip it onto the dog’s collar.
“As you wish,” he says, reminding me of that Princess Bride movie we used to watch as a family.
Princess Sofia now has Lemon on a leash, too. “I’m so sorry, everyone,” she says, her voice shaky and high. “I don’t know what got into them today, but you know labs—always hungry.”
I look around at the destroyed garden party. The dogs have done a real number on the place, demolishing two tables, and scattering the guests.
“Are you proud of yourself, Pepper?” I ask the dog. She simply looks up at me, panting.
“I do not understand dogs. Why would anybody want them when they cause this level of destruction?” Enzo grumps .
“They’re Princess Sofia’s dogs. You might have to learn to love them if you end up together.”
He harrumphs. “Not likely.”
I’m not sure whether he means it’s unlikely he’ll grow to love the dogs, or whether he’ll end up with the princess.
As members of the staff begin to tidy the mess, I lead Pepper over to Princess Sofia, where a couple members of the staff offer to take the dogs from us.
Princess Sofia shakes her head. “They’re my dogs. I’ll deal with them.” She reaches for Pepper, and I hand her the leash.
“Be good for your Mama,” I tell the dog.
“I think it’s fairly clear to say that ship has sailed.”
“They’re just being dogs. I couldn’t believe how well behaved they were when I first met them at the event in the throne room.”
“They usually are well behaved. I trained them myself. I don’t know what happened today. Maybe it was because I left them inside. Your brother told me he would prefer them not to be here.”
“Right.”
She turns and waves at the gawking, dishevelled guests. “Sorry again,” she says. “Thanks for your help,” she says to me as she leads the dogs from the garden.
I return to Enzo. “Why don’t you go and smooth things out with her. She looked upset.”
“Smooth what? They’re her dogs, as she said. I’m sure she’ll be back once she’s dealt with them.”
The way he says the words “dealt with them” sends a chill down my spine, like he expects her to go take them out the back and shoot them.
My brother has never liked dogs. He finds them too rambunctious and unpredictable. Too smelly, too. He likes things to be just so, and anyone who’s had a dog knows that dogs are rarely “just so.” As they say, if you’re interested in dignity, having a dog should be at the bottom of your list.
“But she was mortified. I’m sure she could do with a kind word or two,” I say.
“I’m better off staying here and talking with our guests,” he replies, and I glance at Sigrid, standing by his side, looking a whole lot less freaked out than she was a few minutes ago.
I raise a quizzical brow at my brother. “You sure about that?
“Absolutely sure.”
Sofia has now disappeared from sight, and I make a snap decision. If Enzo has no plans to check on her, I suppose I can be the next best thing.
I round the hedge she disappeared behind only a moment ago to find a large floral clock made of marigolds. It’s bright and colorful, the flowers forming Roman numerals around the clock face. But I don’t have time to stop and fully appreciate it.
I spy an open gate and slip through it where I spot the princess and the dogs, walking away on a limestone path. “Princess Sofia!” I call, and she stops and turns to look at me. “Wait!”
“Go back to the party, Marco,” she instructs as she turns on her heel and returns to stomping along the path in her pumps, the dogs trotting happily beside her as though they haven’t done anything wrong.
But I’ve got longer legs than the princess, and I catch her up quickly. “Princess Sofia,” I repeat as I fall into stride beside her.
Just like her sister at the arbor, Lemon nuzzles me with a wet nose, her tail swishing from side to side .
“Leave me alone, please, Marco,” Sofia grinds out, not missing a step.
“I just want to check that you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” she snaps.
“Are you sure? You don’t seem fine to me.”
“I assure you I am perfectly, perfectly fine,” she says, sounding anything but perfectly, perfectly fine.
“It would be understandable if you weren’t. I know I would be embarrassed if my dogs went on a rampage at my fancy garden party.”
She slides her gaze briefly to mine before she refocuses on striding up the path, the limestone crunching underfoot.
“You handled it well, and I’m sure some of the guests were thoroughly charmed by Lemon and Pepper. I know I was.”
She gives a derisive snort.
“I also wanted to apologize for my brother’s behavior.”
Finally, she slows her pace and looks up at me. “Why did he behave that way?” she asks, and the pain in her eyes makes me want to wipe away her sorrow, allowing her to return to her usual self, prickly though she can be.
I give it to her straight. “He doesn’t like dogs.”
She comes to a sudden stop, her brows instantly fly together. “He doesn’t like—” She catches herself, purposefully relaxing her features. “I can hardly blame him. Lemon and Pepper were very naughty girls.”
“They were.” My lips curve upward at the memory, and I bite back a smile. “It was rather funny, though. Don’t you think?”
She gives me the side-eye, the corners of her lips tilting upward for a brief moment, and I want to make her smile again, to get to see the way it lights up her gorgeous face. I find I like the idea that I can make this tightly controlled woman so very different from me smile, even if it’s only for a while.
“Too soon?” I ask, my own face pulled into a grin.
She purses her lips. She sure is making me work for it.
“The way Lemon launched herself at the table was classic lab food-obsession mixed with overenthusiasm. Did you see the way Pepper snapped a canapé right out of one of your guest’s hands? It made your guest leap off the ground in fright.”
I can tell she’s fighting hard not to smile now.
“Did you know Pepper nearly knocked the arbor over?”
Her smile drops and she looks aghast. “No!”
“I managed to right it, although it’s a little worse for wear now, I’m afraid. Flower arrangement isn’t my strength.”
“Thank you for doing that, Marco. I… I appreciate you stepping in to help me.”
“I figured there had been enough bloodshed for one afternoon. Well, tea shed, if that’s a thing.”
This time she allows the smile to form fully, lighting up her entire face, and I feel that familiar rush of desire for her flood my veins.
“Tea, sandwiches, and scones with jam and cream-shed, you mean,” she replies lightly.
I chortle. “It really was quite the afternoon tea disaster. At least it’s one garden party that won’t be forgotten.”
As her eyes flash to mine, her shoulders begin to shake. Immediately, she lifts her hand to cover her mouth in a vain attempt not to allow her laugh out. It’s a losing battle—and infectious, both of us bursting into laughter at the scene.
Her eyes flash to mine, sparkling with mirth, and I have the sudden urge to collect her in my arms and press an urgent kiss to her lips.
But I can’t do a thing like that. She’s a princess and might one day get engaged to my brother.
That doesn’t stop me wanting to do it, though.
“We shouldn’t be laughing,” she says as she wipes tears from her eyes, her face bright.
“Why not? It was bloody funny,” I say.
“This was meant to be an elegant afternoon tea party to honor leaders in the community.”
“Not a free for all for a couple of labs on the loose?”
She lets out another laugh. “Absolutely not.”
We look down at the dog terrorists. Their recent excitement has worn off, and they are both lying on the grass at the side of the path, panting and looking thoroughly pleased with their efforts. They notice us watching them, and immediately spring to their feet, their tails wagging.
“They’re too adorable to be angry with for very long,” Sofia says as she leans down to pet them.
“You’re right,” I agree. “Who can resist those faces?”
Pepper’s head tilts to the side, her ears pricked up as though she knows we’re talking about her.
“Does your brother really not like dogs?” Sofia asks after a beat.
I straighten up. “He—” I begin, but judging by the way he reacted today, she already has a fairly clear idea. “He doesn’t. But I do, if that’s any consolation.”
“Oh.” She presses her lips together, and it’s clear to me she’s disappointed.
“That doesn’t mean he won’t grow to love Lemon and Pepper if you get married.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
Busted.
I shrug. What else can I do ?
She lifts her chin and tightens her features, the easy camaraderie between us of only moments ago suddenly vanishing. “I suppose you see our difference of opinion over dogs as another reason for us not to marry.”
I raise my hands in the air. “I didn’t say anything.”
I didn’t have to.
She bristles.
“There you are!” Amelia barrels toward us in her dress and heels, a huge smile on her face. “That was off the charts crazy!”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Sofia replies.
“Who are the naughtiest doggies in Ledonia?” Amelia crouches down to pet the two dogs, who lap up every last spec of affection from her. “Oh, yes. Definitely Lemon and Pepper.” She peers up at us. “Why’s Enzo not here? I would have thought he should have rushed after you to see if you were okay.”
“He’s busy with the guests. Someone needed to stay to calm everyone down,” Sofia replies without looking at me.
Amelia straightens up. “In that case, it’s really nice of you to keep my sister company, Marco.” There’s a definite edge to her voice, echoed in her raised brows.
“It was my pleasure,” I reply with a bow. “I hope the rest of your garden party goes a lot more smoothly.”
“Are you leaving?” Sofia asks, and I hear a note of disappointment in her voice, her features tight.
It takes me by surprise. She doesn’t want me to leave?
“Destruction and unhappy guests. My work here is done,” I joke, but her features remain taut.
“I see. All right. Thank you for coming and for helping out with the dogs,” she says.
“Anytime.”
Her gaze lingers on mine for a beat too long, and it’s as though hot electricity sparks between us. It connects us to one another, and I know with that one look she feels for me as much as I feel for her. In this moment, I refuse to think of anyone but her and me, and this thing that lies between us—and how much I want to reach out and touch her, pulling her to me and tasting her sweet, soft lips.
But I can never do that, no matter how strong my feelings for this cranky, haughty, funny, complex woman may be. She’s not mine, and I am not hers.
End of story.