Marco’s sister-in-law gave a curt nod. “Exactly. You did not have your dream. I did not have mine. Do we want our children to reach this age and still feel the pang of loss?”
“No, of course not.” Marco moved restlessly in his chair. His eyes swept me and Sofia. “I do not want that for Gregorio.”
Maybe progress was being made. I wanted to cheer. Leaning forward, Sofia tapped a finger on his desk. “Our responsibilities do not have to be our children’s fate.”
My heart almost stopped when suspicion flickered over his face. “So you two have been talking?”
Her eyes veering to mine, she tilted her head as if to sayMaybe. “What if we have, Marco? A problem is a problem, no matter who brings it to your attention.”
“Is the situation that serious?” Beneath his golden tan, the King was looking a little pale.
“Oh, I think so.” When Sofia bobbed her head, those pearls quivered. “A child that is forced to do something is not a happy child. But it is not too late to prove that you are a good father concerned for the happiness of your child. Not only his family heritage, but also his happiness. Look at the Windsor family. Do you think it was wise to arrange that marriage with Diana? How did that turn out?”
“Yes, of course you’re right.” He ran a hand over his forehead. “That will not happen. When the time comes, I will not force Gregorio into a loveless marriage.”
“A career is like a love affair, Marco. What you do every day either makes you happy or miserable. Would you wish that on Gregorio?”
At that point, Marco darted me an incriminating look. I tried to look innocent but probably failed. Wasn’t this what I had told him about teaching? I loved it... but my love for him counted more. I saw that now.
My love for Marco felt huge. So all-encompassing that losing the sight of him every day would feel far worse than the loss of a job. The thought rocked me.
Marco rose with an abrupt lurch. Our eyes followed him as he paced from one end of the office to the other, head bowed and hands behind his back. Finally, he circled back to us. “You have made your point. Perhaps I should talk to Gregorio.”
“I think so.” Sofia looked over at me. “Perhaps you should re-evaluate other areas of your life as well.”
Oh mercy. I had to get out of here.
Sofia wasn’t finished and Marco was definitely listening. “What will bring joy back to this castle? Whatever your decision is, soon Gregorio will be gone. Once people leave, you lose the opportunity to fix that relationship.”
Tears clouded my vision. “Excuse me. I am late…for something.” And with that I stumbled from the room.
* * *
The kittens were soft,furry balls as they clambered over me. Their delicate claws snagged on my shirt while they cuddled. That one bold, gray male scrambled to lick my chin, his tiny tongue making me giggle, although I sure didn’t feel like laughing. Not after that scene with Sofia and Marco. A brisk ride on Tesoro seemed like a good idea after that painful but hopefully successful meeting. Sofia had done a wonderful job and I hoped that something good would come out of that for Gregorio.
Right now, I needed this distraction of the mother cat and her kittens. They were so tiny. Their whole life lay before them. Not in any hurry, I stretched out in the prickly hay, murmuring sweet nothings to those babies. I felt drained.
The sound of boots on the walkway made me freeze. Marco. Cupping my furry friends, I hunkered down. But Rudolfo must have given him a heads-up. Soon Marco’s head appeared over the stall. “What are you doing, Profesora?” Not a man who asked permission, he opened the gate and entered. “What is this? New kittens?”
Dropping my eyes, I concentrated on the playful brood. “Paying a maternity visit. I love these little guys.”
I had to smile as Marco tiptoed over very carefully to sit next to me in the straw. Alarmed, the mother began picking up her kittens to move them to another corner.
“She is afraid of me?” Marco watched them go.
“Maybe she knows you are a man who wants his way.”
Was that necessary? The hurt look on his face made me regret my words. “Sorry.”
“No, no.” Picking up a piece of straw, he began to mindlessly shred it. “You are right. Are you always right, Profesora?”
Oh, he was so handsome sitting there with that rueful smile, the fading light burnishing his curls. “No. I am not always right. Look at that first day when I thought you were the stable boy.”
His sadness lifted, as if he were remembering too. “Yes, you felt so good in my arms. I wondered.” Marco gave me a devious side glance.
“You wondered what?” I waited.
He shrugged. “Well, of course I wanted you. You felt so right in my arms. And you’d been so brave, rolling through the thorn bush. All those sticks in your hair and scratches on your lovely hands.” While I thought about “feeling right” in his arms, he began to play with my fingers. His touch was soft but the effect on me was electric. “I’m glad you came to see me today with Sofia.”
