‘Mum, hurry up! Dev’s on the television,’ Eliza yelled. ‘The race will be starting any second.’
‘I’m here.’ Mackenzie hurried into the living room, just as anxious as Eliza to watch the race. ‘Move over.’
They’d sat glued to the television when the documentary on Devereaux had screened in the week following Mac’s departure from Santaliana. Eliza had absorbed all sorts of facts about retractable hydrofoil rudders and daggerboards used to push the boats out of the water to reduce the drag of the hulls, while Mac had been more interested in how the documentary had portrayed Devereaux.
From a publicity point of view, the film had been a huge success. Matilda had done a superb job picking up where Mac had left off and everything had gone according to plan.
Even in newspaper articles now, Dev was being referred to as a shrewd commander and a brilliant tactician. The documentary had portrayed a very different side of him—his early wake ups, two ninety minute gym sessions per day with his crew to work on strength-building then cardiovascular fitness, the boat preparations, the skills he put to use in his sailing, and the meetings with his team.
The people of Santaliana were coming to know their prince as they’d never seen him before—as were the people of the world. Following hot on the heels of his participation in the trade talks, and with conjecture he was finally settling down and in a serious relationship with Lois, the prince’s popularity was at an all-time high. Newspaper headlines were now full of praise for the prince and claimed he’d finally got over the grief of losing his sister and was tackling life again with enthusiasm. ‘Prince back on track’ one headline had proclaimed. ‘Prince of the people’, another headline stated.
It occurred to Mac, that if she hadn’t recognised Lois, she would be none the wiser that Lois was not his lover. She would believe what the rest of the world believed—that Devereaux was dating one of the journalists who’d been sent to cover the race series, and that it was serious.
She’d made a mistake in doubting Gray when she should have trusted her instincts. Over the last four weeks, she’d worked through her grief as best she could. Although she wasn’t sure she’d ever get over her anger at the organisation Gray worked for, and perhaps she’d always feel some guilt for having felt bitter towards him in his death, she’d accepted the truth and was happier for knowing it. Gray had loved her. He was prepared to walk away from his life as an undercover agent for her and he’d wanted to protect her and Eliza.
Had things worked out differently—maybe if Gray had been more patient—Mackenzie believed they would’ve had a happy future together. It was comforting to be able to accept that now. It heartened her to know her judgement in his love hadn’t been misplaced.
She and Eliza had visited Gray’s grave yesterday. It’d been the first time that Mac had suggested a visit and Eliza had picked up on that.
When they’d knelt at his tombstone, Mac’s tears had flowed thick and fast.
‘It’s the first time you’ve ever cried when we’ve been here, Mum.’ Eliza’s comment was accompanied by a curious frown.
The observation had only made the flow of tears rush out in a torrent. Mac would never have visited Grayson’s grave if Eliza hadn’t requested a visit each Father’s Day since she’d been six years old. Each other time she’d visited, she’d resented it—resented having to pretend, for Eliza’s sake, that Grayson’s death had been a tragic loss.
‘I’m sorry you never knew your dad, Eliza. He was a good man and he loved you and I more than anything else in the world.’
‘I found a picture of him at the bottom of your cupboard once when I was searching for Christmas presents,’ her daughter admitted tentatively.
‘You did? Why didn’t you tell me?’
Eliza bit her lip. ‘Well, I knew I wasn’t supposed to be in your cupboard, but also you don’t like to talk about Dad and I wasn’t sure you’d want me to have the photo.’
Oh no! Mac’s heart cramped and she felt her features crumple even as she tried to smile reassuringly. Taking Eliza’s hands in hers, she said, ‘It’s true. I didn’t want to talk about your dad and it has taken a long time to come to terms with his death. But from now on, I’m going to talk more about him. And, if you ever have any questions about him, I’ll do my best to answer them.’
Eliza looked relieved and sent Mac a smile. ‘Do you still love him, Mum? Is that why you’ve never dated anyone else?’
‘Part of me will always love your father,’ she answered truthfully. ‘It’s taken me a long time, but I think—if the right person comes along—I might start dating again. Would that be alright with you?’
Eliza threw herself forward and hugged Mac tightly. ‘Absolutely, Mum. You’re so young and pretty, you should get married. Granny and Grandad think so too.’
‘You’ve been talking about me with Granny and Grandad?’ Mac felt aghast.
‘No, but I heard them talking to Uncle Jed. And … I’ve been thinking … Prince Devereaux is really nice. Do you think you might ever date him?’
Eliza was so intuitive! ‘Maybe,’ she answered non-committedly.
Yesterday she’d asked Eliza to give her a moment alone at the graveside. Mac had talked to Gray. She’d closed her eyes and used those precious minutes to talk to him, pouring out her heart, asking for his forgiveness for doubting him and telling him how she’d loved him. She told him about their beautiful daughter, about Devereaux and her love for the Prince of Santaliana. When she’d paused to listen, to receive an answer from Gray, she’d heard a message as clearly as if he stood beside her.
‘I love you, Mackenzie. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy and I can rest easy now you know the truth. If you think Devereaux can make you happy, then you should move on. Goodbye, my love. I’ll always love you and I’ll always be watching over you and our precious daughter.’
Weeping for all the love she’d lost and for all the love that still might be hers if she was brave enough to claim it, Mac had laid down the flowers on the grave and whispered, ‘Goodbye, Grayson. You’ll always have a piece of my heart.’
Now, she hugged a cushion to her chest as Dev’s face flashed up on the screen from an on-board camera. There was intense concentration on his face. Although the technology of the boat was incredible science, it was the skill of the captain and crew which ultimately won races. Having to allow for the precarious nature of the weather, the movements of other yachts on the course and to keep crew movements co-ordinated and precise was an ongoing challenge. Dev was outstanding in meeting every demand thrown at him and had won the first race of the series.
The race in Santaliana had attracted twenty-six entries and had beamed around the globe to those countries, and to television networks in other countries. This race, held in Majorca, was the second in the series. It was exactly a month since she’d left Santaliana and she hoped, after today, Dev would be finished with the mission that placed him in danger.
Every time the camera focused on the Prince of Santaliana, Mac’s heart flipped. He was so handsome and so capable. Dev’s boat, Water Dragon, appeared to fly across the water.
‘Look, Mum! Dev’s broken the fifty-knot barrier!’ Eliza announced before launching into a detailed explanation of the significance of his achievement. ‘We have to go back to Santaliana one day, Mum. Dev promised me he’d take me on Water Dragon and I missed out when he took all the other kids!’
‘That, young lady, was your punishment for the stunt you pulled at the media conference,’ Mac told her.
‘I’m sure Prince Devereaux is a man of his word,’ Mackenzie’s mother said as she came to join them.
Mac’s father was still in South America helping a political aspirant with his presidential campaign. Frequently, Mac took Eliza and they stayed at her parents’ country home, or her mum would come and stay with them in London. Today, she’d arrived to look after Eliza because Mackenzie had decided she wasn’t going to wait for Devereaux to visit her. He’d assured her it would all be over after a month, and that month was up today. Considering she hadn’t left him with any assurances as to how she’d receive him, she’d decided travelling to him would let him know how keen she was to give their relationship a chance. Convinced the danger would be over, she’d booked a flight to Majorca and in two hours she’d leave for the airport.
‘Dev’s going to be first around the second marker!’ Eliza said, bouncing on the couch. ‘I’m sure he’s going to win this race too.’
Mac smiled.
Eliza had so much faith in Devereaux.
It was time she did too.