Page 30 of Pregnant In The King's Palace

Silence greeted her tearful declaration.

‘Luciana?’

‘Oh, my God, you’re pregnant.’

The day passed excruciatingly slowly and when Luciana emerged through the airport arrivals door Angelique was hard pressed not to fling herself into her arms and drag her to the nearest restroom. Her sister took one look at her, enfolded her in a hug and muttered, ‘Bathroom. Now.’

Being a twin with the near psychic ability to know what the other was thinking had never been more glorious.

They went into adjoining cubicles and Lucia passed a package full of pregnancy tests beneath the door before seeing to her own needs. If they were monitoring cubicles on film, a security person would likely be waiting for them when they exited. That was the thought she chose to occupy her mind as she peed on a stick and waited.

And then did it again.

Upon exiting, she met Lucia’s eyes in the mirror and didn’t have to say a thing.

‘Dios mio.’

Oh, my God. Lucia had said it for her.

They ate a late meal at the village near the manor. Valentine rang, and, when he heard she was with Lucia, decided against coming over.

Luciana smirked as he told them to enjoy their catch-up and that he’d likely see them tomorrow. ‘That man is scared of me. As he should be. When are you going to tell him?’

The food in her mouth suddenly tasted like ash.

‘You should do it while I’m here.’

And have Lucia witness his disbelief and never, ever forgive him if things did, in fact, work out okay? ‘I think it needs to be a private conversation.’

‘Suit yourself.’

‘Maybe I could do it by phone.’

‘And deny yourself the look on his face or his temper while he sorts out other people’s mistakes surrounding his diagnosis? That could work.’

But she did want to see his face, that was the problem. ‘This arrangement that we have...it doesn’t involve children. Valentine’s not going to want a child.’ And at her sister’s raised brow. ‘He’s not going to want a child with me. If he’s all fixed and fertile he’ll be off to find a proper princess to marry. One his country will accept without reservation.’

‘Why are you even with him if that’s what you think he’s going to do? Don’t you trust him to do right by you at all?’

Angelique’s hesitation spoke volumes. ‘He’s a king. I trust him to serve his country, first and always.’

‘Then he’s a fool.’

‘Maybe so.’

Her sister eyed her speculatively. ‘Would you marry him if he asked you to? Spend the rest of your life as a civil servant with pretty clothes and tiaras and a child who might one day sit on a foreign country’s throne?’

She bowed her head and tried to picture all the rigmarole that happened every time they stepped out somewhere together multiplied a hundredfold. Every day planned down to the last second. Almost every evening spoken for in one way or another. Patronages and responsibilities eating into her time with the horses. The horses... The family business... Goodbye to all she’d worked for.

On the other hand, waking up to Valentine in bed beside her every morning was a vision she could embrace. ‘I don’t know. I doubt he’ll ask.’

‘Oh, he’ll ask,’ Luciana muttered grimly. ‘What a mess.’

Angelique lowered her fork; she couldn’t eat any more. Couldn’t even take a sip of the wine Lucia had ordered for them both, just in case any reporters had spotted them. Champagne for breakfast and bottles of wine with every meal. Man-eating sirens, both. They had reputations to uphold.

‘Eat,’ Lucia urged, but she shook her head, tears threatening to fall, and if this emotional cresting and cratering was what she had to look forward to for the next six to nine months she’d be a wreck before the child even took its first breath.

And then a flash went off nearby, and her sister swore, and tossed her napkin on the table and rose, looking every inch the avenging devil. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

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