Her Royal Baby

‘I don’t wish to.’

‘But…’

‘Dominic, no.’ He was still watching Tammy, but the laughter had gone. The feeling of entrapment he’d had ever since Jean-Paul’s death was threatening to overwhelm him.

‘I’m sure Miss Ingrid-’

‘Miss Ingrid has nothing to do with my decision on where I’m to live.’ He flashed Dominic a suspicious look. The elderly butler could take liberties where no one else could, but enough was enough. ‘Stop fishing.’

‘I’d never…fish,’ the butler said, offended, and Marc gave a reluctant grin.

‘I’m very sure you would. What time did you say M’sieur Lavac is coming?’

‘Nine.’

‘Then I’d better eat my breakfast. And shower and change. And…is Miss Ingrid breakfasting yet?’

‘No, sir.’

‘What a shame. Well, I might have time for a quick walk before meeting M’sieur Lavac.’

‘Yes, sir.’ And Dominic turned away before Marc could see the involuntary smile that flashed into his wise old eyes. ‘I’m sure that would be a very good idea. The south lawn is lovely at this time of the morning.’

The south lawn was lovely, but Marc hardly noticed it. He’d showered and dressed in record time, donning what were for him very casual clothes. Jeans and an open-necked shirt and that was it. He’d been about to pull his shoes on but suddenly thought, dammit, why should I?

So he headed down the steps wearing bare feet.

He instantly regretted it. There was gravel between the steps and the lawn. His feet recoiled in instinctive reaction and Tammy, strolling up towards the entrance, saw him and laughed.

‘You’ve forgotten your royal slippers, Your Highness.’

‘I often go barefoot,’ he told her, but her smile deepened.

‘Yeah, like I often wear a tiara.’

‘Or elegant little black dresses?’ Her smile was magnetic, he thought. Gorgeous.

‘Sometimes it’s necessary to wear what the natives wear,’ she told him with dignity, and it was his turn to grin.

‘I agree. Hence the bare feet.’

She smiled still more and looked down at her own bare toes. ‘I don’t think you should copy me. I’m hardly a native here yet.’

‘You think you’ll be happy staying here permanently?’

‘Hey, give me a break. How can I make decisions like that already? I’ve only been here for one night.’

‘But you like what you see?’

‘I’m a bit worried about the standard of our accommodation,’ she told him, trying to keep laughter from her voice. ‘It’s not what I’m used to. But Henry and I have been discussing the matter. We suppose we can slum it.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘After all, if you can then I guess we can, too. No Antipodean’s about to be surpassed in toughness by a Broitenburgian!’

She smiled once more, a gorgeous, all-enveloping smile, with lovely laughter lighting her eyes. And it set Marc back.

Henry was snuggled into her shoulder. He wasn’t asleep but he was clearly a happy, content and tired little boy. The way the child’s body curved into her breast did something to Marc’s insides that he hardly recognised. Marc stared at the picture woman and child made and thought-it looked good. They looked so at home in this setting. It was as if the baby was meant to be here. As if both were meant to be.

Woman and child seemed made for each other, and Tammy was standing on the castle steps as if she belonged.

This could work.

He’d been staring at her for too long, and she broke the silence before he’d finished with his train of thought. ‘Um…Marc, about a house of my own…’

He frowned, thrown off track. This certainly wasn’t where his thoughts had been leading. ‘A house of your own?’

‘Okay, not a gardener’s cottage,’ she conceded. ‘I see that such a place would be inappropriate for Henry. But for you to have me living here with you is also inappropriate. Last night… You must see that it can’t work.’

He thought about it and disagreed. ‘I think it worked very well last night.’

‘It didn’t.’ The humiliation she’d felt the previous night surfaced again, and with it anger. ‘If you think I’m going to play hostess to your mistress, you have another think coming.’

‘Hey, Ingrid’s not my mistress.’

‘No?’

He flushed. ‘Hell, Tammy…’

‘My mother says you’re a womaniser,’ she said flatly, her anger fading as she searched for a more temperate tone. What she was saying was unpleasant enough without hurling it at him in fury. But she’d been thinking things through and they both had to face the truth. ‘Whether that’s true or not hardly matters, but Mrs Burchett agrees that you go from one woman to another. She says Ingrid’s only been on the scene for a couple of months. She also says that now Ingrid’s getting possessive you’ll ditch her and there’ll be someone else.’

It was so close to the bone that he almost gasped. Damn it, how well did the servants know him? And how dared this unknown woman throw his personal affairs in his face?

‘This is none of your business.’ He was almost rigid with shock and fury, but she didn’t appear to notice.

‘It’s not,’ she agreed, with all the placidity in the world, ‘unless you try to kiss me again-which, if you know what’s good for you, you won’t. But if you intend to keep entertaining your women here-’

‘Will you leave my private life alone?’

She had no intention of doing so. She couldn’t. ‘It puts me in an impossible situation,’ she explained. ‘Like-what was my role here last night? Guest? Hostess? Or was Ingrid hostess? She did her best to put me down and made it clear that I was her absolute social inferior. Does that mean every time you change girlfriends I’m to be patronised by another woman?’

‘She didn’t patronise-’

‘Yes, she did,’ Tammy said softly. ‘You forget, I was raised with Lara and Isobelle. I can spot patronising from a mile off. And that’s the lesser issue. You having one woman after another will give Henry the wrong moral values.’

‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this.’

‘Someone has to say it,’ she said flatly. ‘If you want me to stay here then you need to find us alternative accommodation.’

‘The palace is yours,’ he told her, goaded. ‘There’s no need at all for these histrionics. I’m leaving.’

Silence.

It was early morning still. A gardener was heading over the far lawn with a wheelbarrow, and a couple of sparrows were engaged in an argument over the remains of a squashed worm right by Tammy’s feet. Otherwise the world seemed to hold its breath. Waiting…

‘You’re leaving?’ she said finally-almost conversationally-and he nodded.

‘Yes. As soon as you’re settled.’

‘Leaving me here alone?’

‘Not alone. With the staff.’

‘With the staff.’ She was thinking fast and was clearly unhappy with what she was coming up with. ‘You mean you’re intending to skive off and leave me with the responsibility for all of…?’ She gazed up at the castle and then turned to motion to the expansive grounds beyond. ‘All of this?’

No one had ever talked to him like this. No woman. What had she said-Skive? ‘I’m not leaving you with responsibility for anything,’ he snapped.

‘So you’re going-where?’

‘I told you. Renouys-my own establishment-is ten miles south of here.’

‘That’s right,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘I’d forgotten. You’re really a not important prince. So you’ll go back to being no one in particular and operate your secondary role as Prince Regent on the side?’