Royal Daddy

by Emilia Beaumont

  “What if I risk it all and she turns me away?”

  “Then at least you had the balls to go after what you wanted. No regrets?”

  “No regrets,” I nodded resolutely, remembering the line that had stuck out like a sore thumb in Frederick’s last message to me. Have no regrets and you’ll live a happy life.

  “That’s the spirit. In for a penny, in for a pound, I say!” William grinned and I batted him on the arm. “What can I say? Sophie has definitely rubbed off on me!”

  Seventeen

  Penny

  Even though I’d prepared myself, I cried for a week after the masked ball. I felt so raw, and so alone that I’d called in sick—something I had never done in my entire life. I was one of those workaholics that had to be forced from their post kicking and screaming. But I needed the peace and quiet of my tiny loft in Queens, to lick my wounds and try to regain some kind of poise, self-control—whatever it was that had so completely deserted me when he’d stood in front of me.

  I longed to return to Great Falls, to the comfort of home, to have Mom make me her hot chocolate and fuss over me trying to get me to eat. But I didn’t have the airfare, and I didn’t want to worry her; I needed to get through this alone. Once and for all.

  It wouldn’t only be my emotional state that would worry her either. Every time I looked in the mirror I could see myself shrinking away, my bones becoming more prominent as the fat melted off me. It wasn’t healthy. The bags under my eyes grew larger and darker too, and the fire and passion that had once driven me, given me the determination to go on, had long since departed. It was like I was a rusty old car, low on gas, with bits of chrome that once gleamed falling off me at the first sign of a bump or pot hole.

  I simply couldn’t find anything in my life that was worth anything anymore. The loss of my babies, of my little bit of Robert—the only part of him I would have ever been able to keep—had left me utterly despondent.

  Food no longer brought me any joy. I had barely eaten, and had retreated into a shell of what I hoped had looked like nonchalance, maybe even indifference to everything. Apathy consumed me instead. Yet inside, somewhere deep down in my darkest depths, I was screaming to be heard, to shake myself out of this state; the pain was constant, gnawing away at me with every waking moment of the day.

  I wished I could shrug off his hold over me, like a piece of clothing, last season’s fashion, but for some reason the trend never ended.

  Then to see him at the ball; his perfect aquiline nose and those bright blue eyes that I could feel looking right through me, had been like a shot to the stomach.

  The masks we’d worn had been no protection, no salve. His beautiful cheekbones, his golden tanned skin and his soft, skilled hands with their tapering fingers were all too visible, and his sheer physical presence; the smell of him, the aura of confidence and power that he exuded so naturally were hard to ignore. Hell, I would never forget how just being near him made me feel.

  But, I had to re-enter the world at some point. I couldn’t allow my emotions to fester any longer. The charity needed me. We had so many events to plan, and for me to attend as a quasi-spokesperson, this simply wasn’t the time for me to be out sick. Not to mention, I’d only just been given the job practically on a silver platter.

  I’d been surprised to find that when I first began the work I anticipated that I would be bored and that it would make me desperate to return to my work as a doctor—but strangely I had come to love it. Of course, I had plans to return to medicine, but only when the right job presented itself.

  I was organised and methodical—the attention to detail suited me well, and being around so many people all the time, with a million and one things to do, had also helped me to keep my mind off my scandalous affair with a royal. I hoped it would work its magic again. I certainly needed my mind to function again, I thought as I prepared myself for the day ahead.

  A fresh day and a fresh start.

  “Penny, so glad you’re back,” Shane said as he passed my desk later that morning on his weekly trip in to deliver the collection cans he had littered all around his business and the clients that visited. He was such a treasure. Skilled, dedicated and tireless in his efforts for the charity. “Angel and Amy send their love.”

  “Have you been back out again?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yes, and I’m going to be making it permanent.” His chest puffed up with pride, and I could see he was waiting for me to put two and two together.

  “So, it’s serious between you and Angel then?” I asked politely. Anyone with half a brain could see how much they cared for one another, it was only them that seemed to struggle with the idea. But I was glad they’d finally admitted it to themselves.

  “I asked her to marry me, and she said yes!”

  “Oh my! Congratulations!”

  “Thanks! But I know what you’re thinking but are too polite to say. Don’t worry I know all about her track record,” he said laughing.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re going in with your eyes wide open,” I said with a wink. Angel’s relationships and past marriages were often favourite tales in the evenings over a glass of wine. Angel had been married so many times I’d lost track, and her record was just shy of nine months. “You really think you’ve got the staying power to go the distance?”

  “I don’t know about that, and she reminded me of her record when I asked her. But we talked about it and I simply asked if she loved me. She said yes. So I said that’s all I need to know. I’d rather be with her for a short time than not at all.”

  “Shane, you are a gem. She’s a lucky lady. I wish you both the very best of luck. So is the wedding going to be here or out there?”

  “Out there; you know Angel, she won’t leave that camp until there are no refugees left in it.”

  I nodded. He was right. At one time I had felt the same way. But now I didn’t know how I felt any more. I was too numb. Maybe going out for the wedding—and I knew I would if invited—would be what I needed to jump start me. I’d see all those people who needed me, and I would remember who I was, what I could do, how I could make a difference. Because right now I felt I was worse than useless, that I had nothing to offer anyone—just an empty husk of what I used to be.

  “How about Mark and Amy?” I asked curiously. Mark was a tenuous link to Robert, and I needed to know he was well, even after everything and telling him to stay away.

  “Mark is back at Camp Bastion. Amy was thinking of joining the forces, so she could be with him, but he talked her out of it since there would be no guarantee they’d see each other that way. He’s only got another twelve months to serve, if she signed up she’d have to serve four. He’s convinced her they can do the long distance thing.”

  I was pleased my friends had found love, and with such sensible and kind men. I couldn’t help feeling a little envious of their happiness. Everything seemed to be rosy for their futures. How had everything gone so wrong for me? But I pushed those selfish thoughts aside and gave Shane a warm hug.

  “Give them my best when you go out next. Make sure you send me an invite. I wouldn’t miss the big day for anything,” I teased him, trying my best to be brave and not show how unhappy I was underneath. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes that had threatened to fall as I held him tightly.

  “We should get together before you leave, but for right now I really have a lot to do. There’s big golf event tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I heard about that. Good luck. And yes we can do lunch or something.”

  I nodded. “Mmhmm. So much to organise and to get up to date with, so I’ll see you again soon.” I gave him another squeeze and darted away before he could say another word. I rushed to the bathroom and let the tears fall.

  Bracing myself against the sideboard, it’s solid frame supporting me, cold stone beneath my hands, I let myself cry; the emotion literally shaking itself out of me.

  I looked at myself in the mirror. How had I let myself get this rundown?
All over a man. I groaned. My hair was stringy and lank, my eyes dull and rimmed red, and my cheekbones were so sharp I could cut cheese with them. Hell, if I had a wedding to go to, I needed to look at least half human. I knew it would be hard, I had barely felt like eating in so long, but I didn’t want to worry my friends, the people I knew who loved me. I splashed my face and wiped it dry carefully, then got the elevator down to street level and nipped into the bakery next door.

  With a bag of pastries, pies, and a delicious looking cheese and olive bread, I headed back to my desk. As I worked, I steadily munched my way through it all: the doughnuts; the strudel; the delicious quiches; and that sumptuous bread. I even found myself enjoying it; my body seemed to wake up as it realised that vast quantities of carbs and fat were heading its way again. I knew it would take more than one day of food and overindulgence to look human again, but I had made a start to kick-start my metabolism—and hopefully now my body remembered what it felt like to crave food, and I would get hunger pangs again.

  I stopped at the grocery store on my way home and picked up steak and green beans, tomatoes, eggs, and all sorts of rich and nutrient-dense foods. As usual, when I got back to my building, the elevator was out of action, and so I walked up the seven flights of stairs to my little loft, cursing all the calories I was burning away. I opened the door, and the stale, damp stench hit me. I hadn’t noticed it because I had been living in it, but it was evident that a window hadn’t been opened in weeks.

  That’s it, I told myself. Enough is enough. I rushed around, pulling the curtains and opening all the windows I could.

  Remembering an old fragrance oil burner Mom had sent, I hunted for the box and pulled it out, as well as other things from my room from home, and soon things were smelling fresher and looking homier. I tidied around, and continued to unpack my things carefully. I truly hadn’t done a thing since I moved in, but by the time I sank into bed that night, my little space definitely started to look like a home and a little brighter.

  I was woken by a knock on the door. I looked at the big old Mickey Mouse alarm clock I kept by the bed, a present from my dad when I was just five, and was stunned to see it was actually only nine P.M. But nobody travelled to Queens after dark—not if they expected to be let in. And other than my mom and the people I worked with, I knew nobody who would come for a visit. I grabbed my dressing gown and pulled it round me tightly, picked up a heavy candlestick that had come with the room, and went to the door wondering if a pizza delivery boy had gotten lost. I had the chains on already, but I wasn’t opening the door until I was sure I knew who was out there.

  “Who’s there?” I asked, hearing my voice quake with the fear I felt.

  “Penny, it’s me. Let me in, please,” I shook my head in disbelief. It couldn’t be, not here, not in Queens.

  What the hell was Robert Rothchester, a Prince of England, doing here? And what on earth was his security team doing letting him walk around this kind of neighbourhood?

  “Robert? What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, still not opening the door.

  “Penny, I don’t really want to talk about this through the door. Please, let me in?” he begged. His voice sounded unusually nervous. I opened the door a crack and saw his soulful eyes gazing at me. “I’m glad you followed all the safety guidelines, but I promise I’m not armed and I have no intention of hurting you.”

  Flustered, I undid the chains and opened the door fully.

  He stood in the hallway, completely alone, his long, lean body looking as strong and wonderful as ever. But I had never seen anyone look more out of place. This block was shabby and bordering on derelict, and most everybody who lived here either walked with a hunch, wore hoodies or scarves covering their faces. Yet Robert, though he was only wearing jeans and a simple white shirt with a casual jacket, was in complete contrast to any one else you’d come across in the neighbourhood. He belonged on Park Avenue, not here.

  “C-come in,” I stuttered, feeling extremely self-conscious. Of all the places for him to ever see me, and to be so frail. I knew my dressing gown did nothing to hide how much weight I had lost. In fact, the bulky hugeness of it seemed to make me appear even smaller than I felt, and was now.

  “Penny, are you all right?” he asked as he stepped inside, his eyes full of concern.

  I wanted to slap him. It was too late now. What was the point in him being worried about me now? I was picking my life up again. Where was he when I had truly needed him—the day my baby had left me alone again? Oblivious to my pain, and dating some other damn woman.

  “I’m fine,” I answered tersely. “What are you doing here?” I repeated as calmly as I could.

  “I’ve been unable to stop thinking about you, ever since that damn charity ball. Hell, ever since I met you. And I’ve come to make things right. I know you said not to come after you, but I had to at least try.” I could tell by the blunt delivery, and the determination in his eyes, that he meant it. I watched him avidly as he pushed his hand through his luxurious head of hair, looking for all the world like a lost schoolboy.

  “So?”

  “Penny, you can’t tell me you haven’t been feeling the same things I have, that you don’t give a damn about what happened between us out there? I know you do. Otherwise, why would you look like this? Be living in a place like this?”

  “I told you, I was sick. I had to come home. Now I’m working for the charity, as an event planner. I like it and I’m getting better now. It has got nothing to do with you,” I said through gritted teeth, praying he would realise there was so much more to it than that, but not brave enough to tell him how I really felt.

  “One hell of a sickness, Penny,” he said, his doctor’s eye serving him too well for my liking.

  “It’s none of your business, Robert, so again I ask and I would really appreciate an answer this time, why are you here?”

  “Because I love you, and I don’t want to live without you, dammit!” he exploded. “And, I know you feel the same way. Don’t try and deny it.”

  “Whether I deny it or not doesn’t change one iota. The situation is still the same. You are still who you are. And I am still who I am. You have a life in London, and around the world doing your family’s bidding, marrying their choice of woman, and bringing up backup heirs for the crown. My life is here, maybe here in New York or back home in Great Falls. Maybe I will go back to Africa. But whatever the choices are, that I decide to make, they do not involve me becoming someone’s mistress.”

  “I would never ask that of you!”

  “So what exactly is it that you are asking me? That I docilely step aside once a suitable bride has been found, but to be with you until then?”

  He sank down onto the armchair, and cradled his head in his hands. “I don’t know what I’m asking of you, Penny. I just knew I had to come, that I had to fight to be with you again. I love you, and I hate being away from you. That is all I know. And I had to find out if you felt the same. Because if I am to do anything about this, I am going to have to burn some serious bridges.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “Penny, I don’t want the life I am leading right now. I want the life we had, the one we shared together out in Chad. I want to be a surgeon, and I want you by my side.”

  “But…”

  “But, I know, I’m second in line for the throne. I can’t just do whatever I like. And hell, I’d like to have my family’s backing, but if I don’t have it, as long as I have yours, it would be okay. We would be okay.”

  “You want me to say that it would be fine with me if you stand up to your family and tell them you want a different life?”

  I was so confused, I pinched myself—hard—to prove to myself I wasn’t dreaming. Ow, shit. I am awake.

  “Rob, if you want to be a medic, in the army, or in the camps, or wherever, that is a conversation you need to be having anyway. You are too good a surgeon to give it up, and if they expect you to do that after all the work you’ve put
in, then they are crazy. I don’t care who they are. Every family on the planet would be ecstatic to have a doctor in the family, let alone a surgeon!”

  “Except mine it would seem,” Robert said ruefully. “But, I don’t just want that bit. I want the ‘you by my side’ bit too.”

  “Ah, the plot thickens,” I said with a wry smile. “I do love you, but I will not be a reason you separate yourself from your family. If you want to live your own life, Robert, you have to do it because you need it—not for me, or anyone else. Because if there are repercussions, then you would never forgive me. You would claim you didn’t blame me, but you would.”

  He nodded at me, and I felt so very sad that I was being so horribly sensible. I wanted to be as reckless as he was. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and tell him just how much I loved him, needed him, and never wanted to let him go, but I wouldn’t be the reason he lost his family. I knew they meant too much to him. His attempts to fit their mould for him told me that. Yes, he was chafing at the confines, but he had to break free of them for himself. It couldn’t be for me.

  I tried to stay out of his reach, keeping the coffee table between us, but my body had other plans. I moved to his side, and cradled his head against my almost concave belly. I smoothed his hair back from his face, stroking his cheeks tenderly.

  “I know this is going to be so hard, but you are a person in your own right, Robert. You are allowed to want a different set of dreams and goals for yourself than they had planned.” His arms wound around my waist, and I allowed him to pull me down onto his lap. I would never be able to resist him, even if I knew I should.

  “Penny, I want a different life and part of that different life is you, as much as it is everything else.”

  His face came closer, our noses almost touching, then he kissed me. It was such a sweet kiss, so tentative and shy. So unlike the man I knew. This softer, more vulnerable side of the confident man I had met and fallen in love with, was somehow even more endearing to me. I should have known that like myself, the public face was just that and that this quiet and private man was truly struggling to deal with everything that was happening. He lived a life where, for all intents and purposes, he should be able to have and be whatever he desired. Money was no object; he had all the privileges that the rest of the world could only dream about, yet he craved so much less. He simply wanted the ability to make his own choices, his own mistakes; to have control of his own destiny.