Not Fit for a King?

by Jane Porter

  He was standing at his window in his study, staring out at nothing when a knock sounded on his door.

  The door opened and Mrs. Sivka entered looking so much frailer than she had a month ago. It was as if she’d aged ten years in thirty days. “Forgive me for intruding, Your Majesty, but I insisted that your staff let me in to see you.”

  Zale had been pacing his office, unable to sit, unable to rest and he walked away from her, to the window overlooking the garden. He kept his back to her so she couldn’t see his face. “Is Tinny not well?”

  “The prince is fine. He’s with Mrs. Daum right now. But I need a word with you.”

  “What is it?”

  She was silent so long that he glanced over his shoulder. “Mrs. Sivka?” he prompted impatiently.

  Anxiety was etched into her features and worry in her eyes. “There is something I’ve never told anyone. Something I swore I would never tell. It was a blood oath. One of those promises you cannot break, for any reason, ever. And I haven’t.”

  Zale sighed, irritated. He was tired, not in the mood for this. The past month had been absolute hell and the last thing he wanted was to play word games. “And yet you feel the need to break it now?” he drawled sarcastically.

  “Yes.”

  He turned around, folded his arms across his chest. “Why?” “It might change everything.”

  No, he really couldn’t deal with her now, not if she insisted on talking about secrets and blood vows and other silly games. “What would?”

  “The truth.”

  “Mrs. Sivka, please.”

  Her round face creased. “There were two babies, Your Majesty. Two baby girls, not one. Princess Emmeline and the infant princess, Jacqueline.”

  Zale blinked. He’d heard what she said but it hadn’t fully registered. “What?”

  “Princess Emmeline was one of two. She had a twin sister.” “That’s nonsense. Absolute fiction. King William would have told me if Emmeline had a twin—” “He didn’t know. No one knew—”

  “Listen to yourself, Mrs. Sivka! I’m not Tinny. Not interested in make-believe.”

  “This is true. I was there. I was there for Princess Jacqueline’s delivery at Marmont, the royal family’s hunting lodge in northern Brabant. Her Royal Highness’s nanny had been my best friend since childhood, and she’d asked me to be there, too, at the delivery. I was to take care of the newborn for the first few days while she tended to Princess Jacqueline.”

  Mrs. Sivka took a quick breath, expression pleading, wanting him to understand, needing him to understand. “Of course I went, and we thought we were prepared for the delivery. It was a difficult delivery. No one expected twins, and although there was a midwife on hand, it became apparent that something was very wrong. Her Highness needed surgery. She was bleeding internally. But as you know, Marmont is remote, at least an hour’s drive from the nearest city, much less a modern hospital. We called for help but there was no helicopter available, no emergency medical team near us.” Her eyes turned pink and her mouth pressed thin. “Her Highness knew she was dying—”

  She broke off as tears fell and she struggled to keep control. “Her Royal Highness was very brave, and quite calm. She was also very specific about what she wanted us to do. One baby was to go to her brother at the palace in Brabant. And the other baby was to go to the babies’ father in America. I took infant Princess Jacqueline to him with the news that Her Royal Highness had died in childbirth but she wanted him to have their child—”

  “He knew Jacqueline had been pregnant?”

  Mrs. Sivka nodded. “Her Royal Highness had written to him, told him, but her family wouldn’t give him access to her.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  Mrs. Sivka’s shoulders twisted. “But I never told him he had another daughter. I couldn’t, not after the vow I made.” Zale was absolutely numb. “Why tell me this now?” “Because it changes everything.” “It changes nothing.” “You’re not listening then.”

  “I am listening. Fairy tales and secrets and blood vows—”

  “You don’t have to be afraid, Your Majesty.”

  “Afraid?” he roared, hands clenched, fury blinding him. “You think I’m afraid?”

  “Yes.” She folded her arms across her middle. “You did this very same thing when you were just a boy. You hated to be disappointed, hated pain, so you’d hurt yourself first so no one could make you hurt worse.”

  “You can go, Mrs. Sivka.”

  Mrs. Sivka didn’t budge. “Your Majesty, prayers do get answered, and there is goodness and justice in the world, not just pain. Because in your heart you already know the ending of my story.”

  Zale ground his teeth together, muscles so tense he ached all over. “That what? This infant princess … this Jacqueline …?” “Is your Princess Hannah.”

  Zale sat down abruptly on the windowsill, his legs no longer able to hold him. Can’t be. Can’t. Impossible.

  “You shouldn’t tell tales,” he said roughly, hating Mrs. Sivka in that moment for torturing him like this when he had nothing left to go on. He needed to eat, needed to sleep, but most of all, he needed her, Hannah, his woman.

  “I’ve never lied to you, Your Majesty. I wouldn’t start now.” Mrs. Sivka went to the door, opened it, revealing a wan-looking Hannah dressed in jeans and a white blouse, her hair loose and her stunning face scrubbed free of all makeup.

  Hannah looked at him from across the library, blue eyes huge in her pale face. “Hello, Your Majesty.” Zale couldn’t breathe. Hannah. Here. Here.

  And his. Princess or not. It didn’t matter. It would never matter. He’d gladly give up everything for a chance at a life with her.

  Mrs. Sivka smiled broadly. “Your Majesty, may I present to you, Her Royal Highness, Hannah Jacqueline Smith.”

  Zale didn’t know who moved first—he or Hannah—but suddenly she was in his arms in the middle of the study, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

  “I never thought I’d see you again,” she choked out, voice wobbling as she looked up into his face. “And never is such a long, long time.”

  “I know. I’ve been so angry this past month. I was going mad without you here.”

  “I heard.”

  “How?”

  “I called the palace every day and talked to Mrs. Sivka or Krek, asking about you. It killed me to hear that you were so unhappy.”

  He clasped her face in his hands. “My staff talked about me behind my back?”

  “Yes. Sorry. But I badgered them until they told me the truth. I had to know.” Her eyes filled with tears. “And I’d lose it, absolutely lose it when I heard you were running fifteen, twenty miles a day and not eating. I wanted to jump on a plane and come see you but I was afraid that if I came, I’d never leave.”

  “But you’re here now.”

  She blinked, and tears fell in streaks. “Because I don’t ever intend to leave. Not unless you forcibly throw me onto the streets.”

  Her blue eyes had turned aquamarine from crying and her long black lashes were wet and matted and her nose was pink and she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “I need you here, Hannah. I can’t do this without you. I don’t even want to live without you.”

  “That’s what Mrs. Sivka said when I called her on Tuesday. She said she feared for you, feared you’d become too self-destructive, and that’s when she told me who I was.” She bit into her lip to stop it quivering. “The name on my birth certificate is Hannah Jacqueline Smith. I always wondered where my father got the name Jacqueline. He never told me, not until this week after Mrs. Sivka told me everything.”

  Zale turned to look at Mrs. Sivka. “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell her the truth! You could have cleared this all up weeks ago—”

  “I’d made a promise, Your Majesty.”

  “Ridiculous,” he muttered, adding something under his breath about old women and blood vows before clasping Hannah’s face in his hands and kissing he
r brow, her damp cheek, her salty lips.

  Hannah laughed against his mouth. “Don’t be mean,” she whispered. “At least she told us.”

  “I should fire her. Throw her out—”

  “Zale!” Hannah drew back and gave him a stern look. “She’s your nanny!”

  Zale gazed down into her eyes, his expression hard and then turning to awe. “And she knew you before I did. She was there at your birth. Incredible.” And it was incredible, he thought, drinking her in. Hannah wasn’t ordinary Hannah Smith, but Emmeline’s twin sister, and a true princess of Brabant. “It’s a miracle.”

  “It is,” she agreed. “And my father supports Mrs. Sivka’s story. She did bring me to him when I was just a week old.”

  “He must be stunned to discover he has another daughter.”

  Hannah hesitated. “I haven’t told him that part yet. I thought I would, when he flies in for our wedding.”

  The corner of Zale’s mouth slowly curved. “And when is our wedding, Your Highness?”

  Hannah grinned back. “Mrs. Sivka and I were thinking maybe a week from today?”

  Zale glanced at his beaming nanny. “You’re planning my wedding now, are you, Mrs. Sivka?”

  “Why not? I used to change your nappies.”

  “You may go, Mrs. Sivka,” Zale said with mock sternness.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” she answered, heading for the door. But Zale called to her before she could close the door. “Mrs.

  Sivka?”

  His nanny looked at him with terrible tenderness. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  “Thank you.” His eyes were warm, his expression grateful. “Thank you for everything.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Once she was gone, Zale lifted Hannah onto the corner of her desk and moved between her legs to get as close to her as he could. “What kind of wedding do you want, Hannah?”

  “I don’t care, as long as you and I are both there.” She reached for his hips, pulled him even closer, so that his zipper rubbed up against her inner thighs. “People are going to talk, though,” she added, sliding a hand over his crotch and his growing erection. “How will you explain that I’m not Princess Emmeline, but Hannah?”

  “Princess Hannah,” he corrected, trying not to be distracted by the heat of her hand on his aching shaft. “Emmeline’s twin sister, and a Princess of Brabant.” He lowered his head, brushed his lips across hers and then kissed her again, wetting her lips with a flick of his tongue. “My Princess of Brabant.”

  She gasped and shivered against him, her hands pressed to his chest. “Um, King Patek, can we lock the door?”

  “I think that’s an excellent idea.” He cupped her face, kissed her deeply, parting her lips to take her mouth completely. “Can’t wait to do that to your body,” he growled. “I’ve missed you. Missed everything about you.”

  She kissed him back, legs wrapping around his hips, so turned on she was trembling. “Zale, I love you.”

  “Not as much as I love you.”

  The corner of her mouth tilted in a wicked little smile as she lightly scratched her nails down his chest. “Prove it.” “Don’t you worry, Princess. I will.”

  EPILOGUE

  IT WAS late. It had been a long day, and Zale was only now heading for Tinny’s rooms to say good-night to his brother.

  But reaching Tinny’s living room, Zale’s tension and exhaustion eased, his shoulders relaxing as he spotted Hannah already there, sitting on the couch with Tinny reading him his favorite bedtime story.

  Zale stood in the doorway a moment, content to just look at them and listen.

  Hannah, his beloved princess, pregnant with his first child. And sweet, innocent Tinny who absolutely adored Hannah with all his heart.

  What could be better? What more could a man want?

  What more could a king need?

  And for a moment his chest squeezed so tight Zale couldn’t breathe.

  To think that the randomness of life could take Stephen and his parents, but save Tinny, and then give him Hannah?

  To think that an impostor princess could turn out to be the real thing?

  Impossible that Hannah was Princess Jacqueline’s other daughter, Emmeline’s missing twin and the keeper of his heart.

  Zale felt hot emotion sweep through him, constricting his chest.

  If Hannah and Emmeline hadn’t met in Palm Beach … If Emmeline hadn’t asked Hannah to switch places …

  If Hannah hadn’t come to Raguva …

  If Mrs. Sivka hadn’t broken her vow …

  He gave his head a faint shake, overwhelmed all over again by fate. So many things could have gone wrong. So many things could have kept him from Hannah.

  But they hadn’t.

  Suddenly Hannah looked up, brow furrowed and then seeing him, she smiled. “You’re just in time for the last chapter.”

  Her smile made him ache and it was almost too much, almost too strong, this fierce love he felt for her.

  “Good,” he said, moving into the room and sitting down on the couch next to Hannah and Tinny. “This is my favorite part.”

  “Because you love happy endings,” she said, smiling at him, her love for him so transparent, warming her beautiful blue eyes and curving her generous mouth.

  “I do,” he answered, taking her hand and carrying it to his mouth. “Are you tired? Is the baby kicking too much?”

  She touched her round belly. “He was, but now I think he’s listening. He knows his daddy is here.”

  “Shall I read the last chapter then? Would you like that, Tinny?” Zale offered.

  “Yes, Zale,” Tinny said, taking the book from Hannah’s hands and pressing it into his brother’s. “Yes, read it. Read it right now.”

  Hannah laughed softly as the baby inside her kicked hard just then, a vigorous one-two. “I think your future footballer agrees,” she said, running her fingers across her ribs where the kick had been.

  Zale’s eyes gleamed. “He does have a good kick, doesn’t he?”

  “Most definitely.” She leaned back, resting her head on his shoulder. “Now read, please. I’m anxious to get to the part where the prince marries the princess and they all live happily ever after.”

  “And they did, didn’t they?” he said, opening to the first page of the last chapter.

  Her voice grew husky. “Yes. Yes, Your Majesty, they did. Very happily.”

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

  All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.