Her Royal Baby

He marched across and picked up her sandwich, inspecting it as if it was poison. ‘So Mrs Burchett was right. You’re eating ham sandwiches for dinner!’

‘They didn’t have Vegemite.’

He didn’t even smile. He took a step back and surveyed her as if she’d arrived from another planet.

‘Henry’s asleep,’ he told her, slowly, as if she might have trouble understanding the language.

‘Mmm.’ She smiled.

‘So why are you sitting up here? Alone?’

‘I told you. We keep our lives separate. That’s the way I want it, so I might as well start now.’

‘That’s ridiculous. Mrs Burchett has prepared a wonderful dinner. I won’t allow you to offend the staff.’

‘Mrs Burchett sent me the sandwiches. She understands.’

‘She doesn’t understand anything.’ He stood back and raked his hair in a gesture that contained both weariness and frustration. ‘Tammy, it’s my job to get this place running as it should. In my uncle’s time this was a family home. The staff here nearly all worked under him and that’s what they want to see. Normality. Most of them have remained loyal under the most outrageous circumstances. They’re delighted that Henry’s here and that I’ve elected to stay tonight as well. The least you can do is come down and enjoy the banquet they’ve put on for us.’

‘Banquet?’

‘Banquet.’

Tammy’s heart sank. She stared across to the far wall. An entire bank of mirrors sent twenty reflections of her bedraggled self straight back.

‘I’m not a princess,’ she told him. ‘I don’t belong here.’

‘Neither do I.’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘You’re Henry’s guardian and his aunt,’ he said with an attempt at patience. ‘You have as much a place in this house-in this family-as I have. You can’t seriously expect to sit up here and sulk in your bedroom for the next twenty-five years.’

‘I’ll find a house.’ She’d already realized the impossibility of staying where she was. ‘This estate is enormous. There must be somewhere Henry and I can stay independently. A gardener’s cottage or something.’

‘Oh, certainly,’ he said with exaggerated scorn. ‘Henry is the heir to the crown. Are you seriously saying he’ll live in a gardener’s cottage until he’s twenty-five?’

‘I’m a gardener,’ she flashed at him. ‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘Nothing. But Henry’s the heir to the throne.’

‘If I hear that phrase one more time-’

‘You’ll hear it lots of times,’ he snapped. ‘Because that’s what this whole thing’s about. You think I wanted any of this? I have a beautiful property of my own, not ten miles south of here. Renouys is my home. That’s where I want to be. I didn’t want to be Prince Regent. I didn’t want to be responsible for Henry. But someone has to make the hard calls. Someone has to care.’

‘I’m only in this country because I care.’

‘Then go the whole way. I thought you had more to you than this. Skulking in your bedroom because you’re scared of a formal dinner…’

‘I am not!’ She was standing now, her face white with fury. ‘As if I don’t know how to eat with the likes of you!’

‘What other reason is there for you to refuse to come down to dinner?’

She glowered. ‘I have jet-lag.’

‘Yeah, right. And I’m the King of Siam. You slept like a top the last six hours in the plane.’

‘I did not.’

‘You slept,’ he said harshly, but a glimmer of laughter was returning to the back of his eyes. ‘I should know. You slept on my shoulder while Henry’s dampness seeped into my shirt. I have a crick in my neck and a stained shirt to prove it. For six hours I couldn’t move-and very uncomfortable it was, too.’

‘I did not sleep on your shoulder!’

‘Shall we ring the airline stewards and have them adjudicate?’

‘This is ridiculous.’

‘It is,’ he said politely, and looked at his watch. ‘Ingrid and I are having pre-dinner drinks. Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes. I ask that you join us.’

‘I don’t want-’

‘Neither do I. But I must. And I think you should make up your mind that you must, too.’

‘I’ve only got jeans…’

The hint of laughter deepened as he surveyed her shabby self. ‘Whose fault is that?’

She glowered even more.

‘You’ll come?’

‘I…’

‘You have no choice.’

‘Fine!’ she threw at him. ‘Fine. I’ll come to dinner in my rags and I’ll disgrace myself before your entire staff and you can snigger at me all you want. Fine. Just get out of my room now.’

‘I-’

‘Get out!’

Fifteen minutes.

Help.

She could go as she was. She should, she thought grimly. She should do just that.

But…she was Henry’s guardian. She had a place in this household until Henry no longer needed it. She should give it a fair go.

The glimmer of laughter in Marc’s eyes came back to haunt her. Damn the man. How dared he place her in such a situation?

He had tried to warn her…

She stared at her battered backpack as if it was a personal enemy. What on earth was she to do? She just knew that Ingrid would be gorgeous, and playing beggar maid to a handsome prince and princess was not her cup of tea at all.

But Lara had lived here for a while, she thought slowly. Lara, who chose and discarded clothes on a whim. If she’d lived here even for a short time… She bit her lip, indecision playing over her face. Could she? Should she?

Why not? She was in a fairytale castle. Why not indeed?

‘Call me if there’s anything you want,’ Mrs Burchett had told her. ‘The bell connects to the kitchens. Normally I’d have one of the girls answer it, but tonight I’ll answer it myself.’

She stared at the bell and then made her decision.

She was a long, long way from the bush. She was a long, long way from home.

Ingrid was growing impatient. Marc’s steward caught him on the stairs and detained him for another few minutes, and by the time he returned to the drawing room she could scarcely conceal her annoyance. ‘Where have you been?’

Her tone was proprietorial enough to annoy him. ‘Inviting Henry’s aunt down to join us,’ he told her.

‘For dinner?’

‘Yes.’

‘Does she want to join us?’ Ingrid asked incredulously. ‘I would have thought…’

‘You would have thought what?’

He hadn’t been expecting Ingrid to be here waiting for him. In truth he’d been looking forward to a few days to work things out before he contacted her. But she was here now, and the fact that he didn’t feel like speaking to anyone had to be overcome.

‘Well, her sort…’

‘Yes?’ He stilled, watching Ingrid. ‘What do you mean-her sort?’

‘Well, she’s clearly not used to moving in our circles.’ Ingrid smiled her gorgeous smile and her gentle laughter