his family? What about their pain?
He remembered the long days and nights spent watching his grandmother’s health fade, the years spent living with the guilt of not having given her the great-grandchildren she’d so longed for.
Prudence held her breath, watching a sort of angry bewilderment fill his eyes. The tightness around her heart eased a little: maybe all was not lost yet.
‘Can’t we just forgive and forget?’ she said softly. He looked up and she hesitated. ‘Please, Laszlo. I don’t believe you really want to do this.’
His face was stiff with tension. Slowly he shook his head. ‘Then you clearly don’t know me at all, Prudence.’ His mouth was set in a grim line. ‘I want to let you stay. For my grandfather’s sake, you understand. But I can’t,’ he said simply. ‘You see, I’m half Kalderash Roma. We don’t forget or forgive.’
He paused and his voice, when he spoke again, was like the sound of a tomb sealing.
‘And you’re still fired.’
Prudence gazed at him in shock, her ragged breathing punctuating the silence in the room. A sense of impotent despair filled her and then something else: a hot and acrid frustration that burnt her stomach to ash.
‘I see. So it’s not your choice.’ Her hands curled into fists. ‘How convenient for you to be able to blame your stubbornness and your spite on genetics.’
His narrowed gaze held hers. ‘I’m not blaming genetics. I’m blaming you.’
‘But not yourself?’ She stared deep into his eyes. ‘Nothing is ever your fault, is it, Laszlo?’ she asked flatly. ‘You just saunter through life, expecting everyone around you to take responsibility for the nasty, boring bits.’ Smiling bitterly, she shook her head. ‘I thought husbands and wives were supposed to give and take. Not in our marriage, though!’
She tensed as he stepped towards her, his eyes suddenly gleaming like wet metal.
‘So now you’re my wife? Interesting! As my charms clearly weren’t sufficient to persuade you of that fact seven years ago, I can only imagine that my grandfather’s wealth is a more compelling reason for you to belatedly acknowledge our marriage.’
Prudence glared at him. ‘How dare you? I couldn’t care less about your grandfather’s wealth.’
‘Just about my poverty?’ he said bleakly.
‘No!’ Biting back the hundred and one caustic responses she might have made, she shook her head. ‘This isn’t about wealth or poverty. This is about what’s happening here and now. About how you’re prepared to make everyone suffer—me, Edmund and all the people who have worked so hard to make this happen.’ She ticked them off on her fingers. ‘All because you’re so blinkered by your stupid male pride that won’t see sense!’
‘And you’re so blinkered you couldn’t see beyond my trailer to the people living inside,’ snarled Laszlo.
‘That’s not true,’ Prudence said hotly. ‘If I didn’t see those people it’s because you would never introduce me to anyone.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You’re such a hypocrite. You didn’t want to be part of their lives any more than you really wanted to be part of mine.’
For a moment she didn’t reply. It was true. She hadn’t wanted to be part of his life: she’d wanted to be all of it. As he’d been all of hers.
She shook her head. ‘You don’t know what I wanted.’ She shivered on the inside. He never had.
Feeling suddenly close to tears, she clenched her fists, struggling to find a way past her misery.
‘Fine! Have it your way! I was everything you say and worse,’ she said flatly. ‘That doesn’t mean I’m not good at my job. But if you fire me you’ll never know. Until you’re stuck with a second-rate replacement.’ She paused and shot him a challenging glance. ‘If you can find one, that is.’
‘Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem. I had no trouble replacing you last time,’ he said softly. He watched the colour leave her face.
‘I’m not surprised,’ she said hotly. ‘Being the grandson of a billionaire and owning a castle must have a lot of pulling power with a certain kind of woman.’
Watching his eyes narrow at her insult, she felt a flicker of triumph that blotted out the misery of his words.
‘It’s nice to know that you took your wedding vows so seriously,’ she snapped. ‘Having vilified me for not believing our marriage was real. Who’s the hypocrite now?’ Breathing deeply, she let her eyes meet his—steel clashing with bronze. ‘We could stand here trading insults all night, Laszlo, but this isn’t about our personal qualities. It’s not even about us. There are other people involved. Not just people, but family. Just remember how anxious your grandfather was to get started. Don’t his feelings count?’
She paused as, with a jolt, she suddenly realised that Mr de Zsadany was sort of her family too. Shock swept over her in waves. She stared at him, legs shaking, stomach plummeting. Suddenly she had to know for certain.
‘Is that why he chose Seymour’s?’ she blurted out. ‘Because he thinks I’m your wife?’
Laszlo stared at her calmly. ‘No. He doesn’t know we’re married. No one does except my cousin and my great-uncle. I didn’t see the point in upsetting everyone.’ His eyes hardened to stone. ‘Especially not my grandfather. He wasn’t strong enough to deal with it.’
She felt dizzy, sick with wretchedness. ‘I’m sorry. I really am.’ It sounded so inadequate, even to her. ‘But surely that makes this easier? My staying, I mean?’
She took a step back from the white heat of his anger.
‘Nothing about you being here is easy.’
‘I just meant—’
‘I know what you meant,’ he said bleakly. ‘I know you better than you know yourself.’
Her misery gave way to fury. ‘Stop being so sanctimonious. You’ve just spent the last half-hour telling me how contemptible I am for not believing in our marriage but you didn’t even tell anyone about us.’
She glowered at him.
‘You don’t actually feel any more married than I do, do you, Laszlo? What’s upsetting you is the fact that I didn’t think our marriage was real.’ Biting her lip, she pushed a strand of tousled blonde hair behind her ear. ‘That’s what this is really about. That’s why you’re punishing me. Not because you really care about our marriage. If you did then how could you treat me like this? I mean, do you honestly think that any normal man would fire his own wife?’
She flinched as he raised his eyebrows, his lips curling in disbelief and contempt.
‘That would depend on the wife...’ he said slowly.
He studied her face, noting the small frown between her eyes, the delicate flush colouring her cheeks. She was so disingenuous! His feelings about their marriage might not
