Read The Future King’s Love-Child for Free Online Page B

Sebastian? Weep and wail and gnash my teeth? Would that make you feel better? To think I’m an emotional wreck, crippled by guilt and unable to resume my place in the world?’
    His eyes travelled over her face, pausing for a moment on the tight line of her mouth before locking on her flinty gaze. ‘I am not sure what I want from you, to tell you the truth,’ he said heavily.
    ‘Perhaps that’s why you invited me here,’ Cassie went on in the same resentful and embittered tone, ‘to have a gawk at me, a real-life prisoner. I guess not too many prince regents get the opportunity to have a private meeting with an ex-criminal.’
    His mouth tightened. ‘It’s not like that at all, Cassie,’ he said.
    ‘Then what is it like, Sebastian?’ she asked. ‘Why am I here?’
    He held her feisty look, his dark gaze sombre. ‘I wanted to see you again. To make sure you are all right.’ He released a breath in a small sigh and added, ‘I guess to see if you had changed.’
    Cassie cocked one eyebrow at him. ‘And what is your verdict?’
    He surveyed her features for several seconds, each one seeming like an eternity to Cassie under his ever-tightening scrutiny.
    ‘It’s hard to say,’ he said at last. ‘You look the same, you even sound the same, but something tells me you are very different.’
    ‘The correction services people will be very glad to hear that,’ she quipped without humour. ‘What a waste of public money if my incarceration hadn’t had some effect on my rebellious character.’
    His eyes held hers for another moment or two. ‘You still don’t like yourself, though, do you, Cassie?’
    Cassie forced herself to keep her gaze trained on his, but it cost her dearly. She felt her defences crumbling and hoped she could hold herself together until she was alone. ‘I am quite at home with who I am,’ she said. ‘Like a lot of people, I have things I don’t like about myself, but no one’s perfect.’
    ‘What don’t you like about yourself?’
    She chewed on her bottom lip and then, realising he was watching her, quickly released it. ‘I don’t like my…er…feet,’ she said, suddenly stuck for an answer. ‘I have ugly feet.’
    His mouth tilted in a smile. ‘You have beautiful feet, agape mou ,’ he said. ‘How can you think they are not?’
    ‘I think they’re too big,’ she said. ‘I would like dainty feet like my mother had. I found a pair of her shoes one day but I could barely get my big toe in. She was so beautiful, so petite and elegant.’
    ‘I saw one or two photographs of her in your father’s office when I accompanied my father one time,’ he said. ‘She was indeed very lovely, but you are exactly like her.’
    Cassie picked up her water glass so she could break his gaze. ‘I sometimes wonder if we would have got on…you know…if she had lived.’
    ‘I am sure you would have enjoyed a close relationship,’ he said. ‘There is something about a mother’s love. My mother is much softer than my father ever was. He ruled with an iron fist but my mother was an expert in shaping our behaviour with positive attention and positive and loving feedback.’
    ‘She must have taken your father’s death very hard,’ Cassie said and, biting her lip again, added, ‘I am sorry I didn’t express my condolences to you before now. I should have said something last night.’
    ‘Do not trouble yourself,’ he said. ‘It was a dreadful shock, yes, especially as it happened on the night of my mother’s sixtieth birthday party.’
    ‘Yes, I heard about that,’ she said, looking up at him again. ‘A heart attack, wasn’t it?’
    He gave a grim nod. ‘All my life I have beengroomed for the position of taking my father’s place when he died. I have developed a strong sense of duty as a result. This island is my home. The people who live here are my people. The only thing I am having trouble with now is I did not expect the responsibility to be passed on quite so