Page 29 of Pregnant In The King's Palace

THREE MONTHS LATER, happy beyond all reckoning, Angelique came to another reckoning while retching over the laundry sink because the smell of her morning coffee made her sick. It was the third time in a week, and the smart thing to do would be to swap out the coffee for a cup of something less fragrant, and she intended to, cross her heart. Morning sickness problem solved.

Morning.

Sickness.

‘Madre de Dios.’

She couldn’t be pregnant. Could she? Because Valentine couldn’t have children and she sure as eggs wasn’t sleeping with anyone else. Eggs. Terrible breakfast food that it was, she hadn’t made any this morning for fear they would set her off. No food at all because she had a tummy bug.

Just a tummy bug.

She retched again, pitiful and groaning with the effort of bringing up nothing more than bile. She reached for the tap and let the water swirl. She washed her mouth out and splashed her face and finally leaned back against the wet-room wall and dug in her coat for her phone. Stables first—she got hold of her head groom and told him she was ill and staying away from them all for a day or so. They talked about the exercise needs of various horses and her groom told her they had everything under control and to get well soon, and that he’d call again this afternoon.

The worry in his voice had not been feigned. She was a Cordova, and Cordovas had to be half dead before they neglected their horses. Three quarters dead, at the very least.

That or unexpectedly pregnant to an infertile king.

She called Luciana next, after having slid down the wall to sit on the floor. She had her forehead to her knees, the jodhpur material warm and familiar against her skin.

‘Hey,’ she murmured when Lucia picked up. ‘Can you do me a favour?’

‘It’s not even six a.m.,’ her sister grumbled. ‘I can do you a favour by not yelling at you for waking me up. How does that sound?’

‘Sorry. Very sorry.’ She closed her eyes as nausea churned again. ‘I’ll call you back. Give me a time that’s good for you.’

‘What do you want?’ Her sister’s voice held a hint of worry in it now.

She took a deep breath, held it for a slow count of five and then let it back out. ‘A pregnancy test.’

Silence.

‘I’d buy one myself but if the press got wind of it...’ She didn’t want to think what would happen if the press got wind of it before she’d had a chance to speak with Valentine.

‘How can you possibly be pregnant?’ Lucia argued. ‘You can’t be.’

‘I know. But it’s been months since I last bled, and, while that’s not uncommon if I work hard and drop weight, I have neither dropped weight nor worked myself ragged recently. My breasts are sensitive, my hair is thicker, and the smell of coffee makes me retch. Tell me that doesn’t sound like I’m pregnant.’

‘Are you glowing? Pregnant women glow.’

‘Don’t make fun of me, Lucia. Please. I think I’m pregnant, I’m terrified, and I need a pregnancy test. Or two. Maybe three in case I don’t believe the results of the first two.’

‘Oh, hell. How? No, scrap that question, I know how. But how the hell did they get Valentine’s diagnosis so bloody wrong? Doesn’t he have the best of the best physicians? If there’d been the tiniest chance of him siring an heir wouldn’t he and the doctors have been all over that possibility?’

‘You’d think so.’ She didn’t know what to think.

‘Do you have a belly?’

‘No!’ Not yet. Did she? Riding horses all day made a person toned enough that she would know. She ran a hand over the area in question. ‘I don’t think so? No one’s said anything. But the breasts, Lucia. The breasts!’

‘What about mood swings? Are you feeling all hormonal these days?’

Was she? Hard to say. She could be a little highly strung on the best of days. ‘Nothing more than usual.’ She tried to sound confident about that and vowed to ask her grooms if she’d been more difficult than usual recently. ‘Can you post me a test? Or three?’ Valentine had a permanent security detail at the manor these days, and he justified it because of the amount of times he visited. They also checked her mail. She’d have to hover and get the parcel before they did, but it could be done.

She was almost sure it could be done.

‘No.’ From her sister’s mouth to her ears, and it shocked her into speechlessness. Lucia had always come through for her. ‘You’re not doing this alone. I’ll be there by this evening and I’ll bring a batch of tests with me.’

Inexplicably, her eyes filled with tears. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much. You’re the other half of my heart, with me every step of the way and I would be desolate without you. Desolate!’

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