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When she got to her room Giulia was waiting there, beautifully dressed in a soft blue suit.
‘You’re back,’ she said crisply. ‘I have the dress finished and pressed. And Prince Eduardo has sent this.’
Stella walked towards the velvet envelope Giulia had placed on the dresser. Pulse skidding, she opened it and drew a soft breath. It wasn’t the blinding, million diamonds showpiece she’d expected. This was a huge single sapphire pendant, simply set on a beautiful platinum twist. There was stunning fire in its depths.
‘Oh...’
Stella turned at the whisper. Giulia was staring at the stone. ‘You know it?’ Stella asked.
‘Midnight’s Passion.’ Giulia nodded. ‘One of the most famous in the royal collection. It has a very romantic history attached to it.’ Giulia glanced at her speculatively. ‘Perfect for an elopement.’
This didn’t seem like much of an elopement when he had everything planned to perfection—palace, dress, make-up, jewellery, prenup.
‘You must get ready,’ Giulia reminded her quietly.
An hour later Stella stood still while Giulia finished smoothing her dress and assessed her.
‘Si.’ She nodded. ‘You look nice.’
Part of Stella had been hoping for a little more than ‘nice’, but then she had refused Giulia’s offer of a manicure. He’d have to take her as she was. She wasn’t going to change for him. This wedding was only about the baby.
But Giulia had a sly look in her eye. ‘I will do your hair.’
She took the brush before Stella could reply.
‘You refused a tiara?’
‘It didn’t seem right.’ Stella sat in the chair Giulia had set for her.
‘Of course.’ Giulia nodded. ‘I have something else.’
She had a selection of tiny tight rosebuds that mirrored the delicate detail on the edge of Stella’s dress. With nimble fingers Giulia braided Stella’s hair, weaving flowers into it and then leaving part of it loose at the back. Then she carefully settled the veil on her head.
‘You must miss your mother today,’ Giulia said softly.
‘She died a long time ago.’ Stella hardly ever let herself think about her. And she refused to now. She also refused to think of her father.
‘You and the Prince have much in common,’ Giulia said.
No, they really didn’t.
Giulia placed a beautiful linen cloth over Stella’s dress, then came towards her with a make-up brush. ‘Close your eyes.’
‘I don’t usually wear much make-up,’ Stella protested weakly.
‘You don’t need much.’ Giulia nodded. ‘I will only accentuate here and there.’
Instinctively Stella knew she could trust Giulia, and also knew that part of her wanted to surprise Eduardo. He probably expected that she’d stomp up the aisle wearing jeans and a frown. Maybe she could startle him into submission.
‘You’re smiling.’ Giulia sounded pleased as she worked. ‘It suits you.’
Ten minutes later Stella scarcely recognised herself in the mirror. What had Giulia done to make her skin glow like that? And her eyes sparkle?
Giulia handed her a bouquet of roses. ‘I gathered these from the garden this morning.’
Stella breathed in the delicate scent. ‘They’re beautiful. Thank you.’
‘Wishing you health, fertility, happiness.’
A gleam in the older woman’s eye made Stella suspect she knew the truth.
‘Put your shoes on—he’ll be waiting.’
‘Where is he?’ Stella asked as she followed Giulia outside and down a pathway through the intricate formal garden.
‘The family chapel.’
They were having a church wedding? Somehow she’d imagined a quick service with a celebrant in that enormous library, or something.
She followed Giulia to the outer reaches of the magnificent garden. A small stone building was enveloped in greenery. Ancient but lovingly tended roses smothered the masonry, giving it an incredibly romantic look.
‘Wait here a moment,’ Giulia instructed. ‘I will check that everything is ready.’
In other words she’d make sure Eduardo was there.
Stella lifted her bouquet again to breathe in the gorgeous aroma, smiling to herself at the ludicrous thought of the Prince being late—or, even better, getting cold feet and standing her up. But after a short moment Giulia appeared in the doorway and beckoned to her.
The trailing rose vines arched over the doorway, their beauty and perfume drawing her in. Stella stepped over the threshold and smiled sadly at the irony. It was the most beautiful wedding setting she could have imagined—roses and old stone, glimmering gold, flickering candles and velvet. And all for a loveless, temporary pretence.
