The sound of crockery rattling on a tray and the smell of coffee brought her back to the present as Maria came into the courtyard carrying a tray of coffee for her, which she put on a table shaded from the heat of the sun by an elegant parchment-coloured sun umbrella.
Thanking her with a smile, Emily decided that she might as well start work.
Within half an hour, she was deeply engrossed in the notes she was making, having moved the coffee-pot out of the way. Although she hadn’t felt nauseous this morning, the smell of the coffee had reminded her that her stomach was still queasy and not truly back to normal.
An hour later, when Marco drove into the outer courtyard, Emily was still hard at work. After leaving the palace he had been to the airport where the generators had already been unloaded. He had already made a list of those villages up in the mountains most in need of their own source of power and whilst in London he had spoken with the island’s police chief and the biggest road haulier to arrange for the transport of the generators. However, whilst he had been at the airport, he had received a message from the police chief to say he had received instructions from the palace that the generators were not to be moved.
It had taken all of Marco’s considerable negotiating skills, and the cool reminder that he was Niroli’s future king, to persuade the police chief to change his mind and go against what he described to Marco almost fearfully as ‘orders from the palace'.
Because of this Marco had decided to drive into the mountains himself to make sure that the generators were delivered safely. If his grandfather thought he could outmanoeuvre him, then he was going to have to learn the hard way that it was just not going to happen.
Marco’s mouth compressed. As a successful entrepreneur whose views were respected he wasn’t used to having his decisions questioned and countermanded. Had his grandfather really no idea of the potential damage he was inflicting on the island by his stubborn refusal to recognise that the world had changed and its people with it, and that it was no longer viable for a king as hugely wealthy as Niroli’s to allow some of his subjects to live in conditions of severe poverty? Apart from anything else, there was the threat of civil unrest amongst the mountain-dwellers, which would be seized upon and further orchestrated by the Vialli gang that lived amongst them.
His step-grandmother had in part to be behind this, Marco decided grimly. Queen Eva was his grandfather’s second wife, and it was Marco’s personal opinion that she was and always had been hostile towards her predecessor’s side of the family. That naturally included Marco and his two sisters. Given their step-grandmother’s attitude, it was no wonder that Isabella rarely visited the palace, and that Rosa preferred not to live on the island, just as he hadn’t, until recently…
* * *
Emily had been deeply engrossed in the notes she was making, but some sixth sense alerted her to Marco’s presence, causing her to put down her pen and turn to look towards the entrance to the courtyard. Despite the sombreness of her earlier thoughts, the minute she saw Marco standing watching her all the feelings she had promised herself she would learn to control rushed through her. Pushing back her chair, she got up and hurried over to him.
As he watched her coming towards him Marco could feel the anger his morning had caused being eased from his body by the warmth of her welcome. He wanted to go to her and take hold of her, he wanted to take her to bed and lose himself and his problems within her. His need for her was so intense… He tensed once more. There it was again, that word need, that feeling he didn’t want to have.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Emily asked him uncertainly when she saw his sudden tension.
‘Nothing for you to worry about. An administrative problem I need to sort out,’ he told her dismissively. ‘I’ll be gone for most of the afternoon.’
Emily did her best to hide her disappointment, but she knew she hadn’t succeeded when she heard him exhaling irritably.
‘Emily—’ he began warningly.
‘It’s all right, I know. You’re a king-in-waiting and you have far more important things to do than be with me,’ she interrupted him briskly.
Marco looked at her downbent head.
‘You can come with me if you wish, but it will mean a long, hot drive along dusty roads, followed by some boring delays whilst I speak with people. And since you haven’t been feeling well…’
Emily wanted to tell him that being with him could never bore her, but she managed to stop herself just in time. Instead she assured him quickly, ‘I’m feeling much better now. I’ve had a look round the villa and I could run some options by you in the car, unless.’ She paused uncertainly, suddenly realising how very little she knew about what was expected of him in his new role. ‘That is, will you be driving yourself, or…?’
‘We aren’t going on some kind of royal progress in a formal cavalcade, if that’s what you mean, and, yes, I shall be driving myself,’ Marco answered her. ‘You’ll need a hat to protect your head from the sun and a pair of sensible shoes for if you do get out of the car. Some of the villages we shall be going to are pretty remote and along single-track mountain roads. I don’t want to delay too long though.’ He didn’t want the police chief getting cold feet and instructing the haulier to stop his fleet of lorries, or, worse, turn back.
Emily’s eyes were shining as though he had offered her some kind of priceless gift, he reflected. He had a sudden impulse to take hold of her and draw her close to him, to kiss her slowly and tenderly. He shook the impulse away, not sure where it had come from or why, but knowing that it was dangerous…
CHAPTER TEN
‘AM I allowed to ask any questions?’ Emily said lightly. It was nearly an hour since they had left the villa. Marco had driven them through the main town and then out and up into the hills. ‘Or is this trip a state secret?’
‘No secret, but it is certainly a contentious issue so far as my grandfather is concerned,’ Marco told her.
‘If it’s private family business,’ she began, but Marco stopped her, shaking his head.
‘No. It’s very much a public business, since it involves some of the poorest communities on the island. But instead of acknowledging their need and doing something about it, my grandfather prefers to ignore it, which is why I have decided to take matters into my own hands. The more remote parts of the island do not have the benefit of electricity,’ he explained. ‘Because of that, these people are denied modern comforts and communication, and their children are denied access to technology and education. My grandfather believes in his divine and royal right to impose his will and keep them living as peasants. He also believes he knows what is best for them and for Niroli. Because there has been a history of insurrection amongst our mountain population, led by the Viallis, in the past, he also fears that by encouraging them to become part of today’s world he will be encouraging them to challenge the Crown’s supremacy.’
‘And you don’t agree,’ Emily guessed sympathetically.
‘I believe that every child has the right to a good education, and that every parent has the right to want to provide their child with the best opportunities available. My grandfather feels that by educating our poorest citizens, we will encourage them to want much more than the simple lives they presently have, he fears that some will rise up, others will desert the land and maybe even the island. But I say it’s wrong to imprison them in poverty and lack of opportunity. We have a duty to them, and for me that means giving them freedom of choice. You and I know what happens when young people are disenfranchised, Emily. We have already seen it in the urban ghettos of Europe: angry young men ganging up together and becoming feral, respecting only violence and greed, because that is all they have ever known. I don’t want to see that happening here.
‘I have tried to persuade my grandfather to invest some of the Crown’s vast financial reserves in paying to install electricity