Pregnant with His Royal Twins

by Louisa Heaton

  He was going to be King.

  And she could not leave everything and everyone she knew to live her life beside him. A life of publicity, of always having her photograph taken, with her every choice of clothing or hairstyle criticised and appraised. Her face discussed and talked about in newspapers and on television channels, her relationship with Mike dredged up from history, where she’d consigned it. They’d no doubt track him down in prison, interview him, get the inside scoop on their relationship and publish that too.

  A life with Jamie would mean a lifetime of judgement.

  All she’d ever wanted was to be loved.

  And love did not come from duty.

  Jamie pressed his hands against her window and begged her to lower it so he could speak.

  She dropped the window slightly and the coolness of the outside air filtered into the car’s interior.

  Jamie stared at her. ‘People are already hurting, Freya. You are. I am. We need to work together to sort this—not just for us, but for our children.’

  Her hands went to her belly, protectively wrapping around them. ‘They’re who I’m thinking of.’

  His eyes had narrowed slightly and frustration crept into his voice. ‘Are you, Freya? Or are you just thinking of the man who did that to you? Letting his actions dictate how you think your life must be?’

  She bit her lip. Because he was right. Mike—his actions years ago, his attack, her fear—was being allowed to run every decision she made.

  But who was Jamie to think he could tell her this? Say it? Confront her with it? As if he had the right?

  ‘I’m their father, Freya. Let me be with my children!’

  Chapter Four

  WALK AWAY AND no one would get hurt? Did she think he was made of stone? He already had feelings about this. About the babies. About her.

  Freya didn’t seem to understand that.

  He was already involved. Already in too deep and he always would be—until the day he took his last breath. These were his children!

  And she…she was scared.

  He understood that. What she’d been through… He couldn’t even begin to imagine half the pain she must have experienced. She must have thought her life was over. Her face ruined. Her life destroyed by what had happened. Had she believed she didn’t have a future?

  All he wanted to do was help her feel safe. Make sure she was all right. But she seemed determined to keep pushing him away. It was very frustrating and he was trying his hardest not to make demands.

  She truly was remarkable. He had nothing but admiration for her. Her spirit, her bravery made her shine from within. She didn’t understand that. She didn’t realise just how much people cared for her because of who she was. She believed they judged her purely on what she looked like.

  She was still beautiful. Imperfections on her face meant nothing. It was who someone was that made them attractive.

  Clearly Freya was still bothered by her face and he understood that. Women today were bombarded with messages about what constituted beauty, and it was all focused on outward appearances—being model-thin, having long, luscious hair, drop-dead gorgeous features. Beauty was never seen in acts of charity, or kindness, or caring. No one was ever told that having a good, loving heart was beautiful.

  So he would protect her. Care for her as much as she would let him. And hopefully she would begin to let down her walls. To trust him.

  He tried to make sure she always had a drink or a snack, as she kept staying in her patients’ rooms and not coming out for a break, and he couldn’t allow that. She needed to keep her strength up. But when he did these things for her she would give him a look that was almost like fear. As if she was worried about what he might do next. A look that said You really don’t have to do this.

  But he did. Whether she liked it or not they were joined now. For evermore. With or without rings on their fingers.

  He brought her mugs of tea. He’d even offered to massage her aching feet once, when she’d complained about them, but all she’d done in response was look at him as if he was mad and then she’d got up to go and do something else. When she should have been resting!

  She wouldn’t let him in. Wouldn’t let him get close.

  His security people had told him that after she left the hospital and went home she stayed in. Never went anywhere. Didn’t seem to have a life. There had been one visit, where she’d gone to someone’s house, but a quick background check had discovered that it was her mother’s home. He’d debated about calling in, hoping to meet her mother, but had refrained, not knowing how she’d react to that. If she thought his making her a cup of tea at work was bad, he felt sure she wouldn’t want him pushing into her life before he was invited.

  The security detail he’d assigned to her reported in every day. It broke his heart that she lived such an isolated life. Was there some way in which he could help her to open up her world? Or perhaps she was happy? Perhaps she was an introvert who enjoyed her own company? He wasn’t in any position to judge.

  ‘Would you like to meet me for coffee one day?’ he asked her during a break on the ward.

  She looked at him askance. ‘Why? I see you every day at work.’

  He smiled. ‘It’s different at work. We don’t really get a chance to talk. We should be getting to know one another a bit more. We could meet in the open somewhere. In a public place, if that will make you feel better.’

  He thought he was suggesting a good thing. Neutrality. Safety and security in numbers.

  ‘I was attacked in a public place, Jamie. Surrounded by people. Numbers don’t always make you safer.’

  No. Of course not. He should have considered that. Freya liked privacy and quietness. She liked being alone.

  ‘Chichester Cathedral.’

  She frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘Let’s meet at Chichester Cathedral. It’s quiet, not too many people. There’s a place to get coffee. Some grounds to wander in where we could find a private nook.’

  ‘Because you want to talk?’

  ‘Because we need to talk. Please, Freya, I beg of you.’

  She seemed to consider his proposal. A divot formed in her brow. ‘It’s still too public for me.’

  ‘Then where? Name it and I will arrange it.’

  She thought of her bolthole on Hayling Island. The place she’d gone to after the attack. Her sanctuary.

  ‘There’s a path called the Billy Trail on Hayling Island. It starts just after the bridge to the mainland, on your right. We could meet there. I’ll bring Rebel.’

  Now it was his turn to frown. ‘Who’s Rebel?’

  ‘My mother’s dog.’

  He wasn’t the biggest fan of dogs, but he could get past that if she could get past her fears. ‘Okay. When?’

  *

  It was Sunday afternoon, and the sun was burning down through a pure blue sky. He’d had to have the air-conditioning put on full when he’d got into the car because it was so hot. But he was glad the weather was good. He thought that if it had been raining, or bad weather in some way, Freya would have cancelled and they needed this. This time together. They needed to know more about one another. More beyond work and pregnancy and past horrors.

  He and Freya were from vastly different backgrounds. It was no wonder they were clashing. But they both had the same desire and that was to do the best thing for their babies.

  His driver located the small car park just past the bridge. He’d never been this way before, and he’d been positively delighted at the beautiful harbours the bridge had driven them through. The soft stillness of the calm water, the white boats sitting on the surface, the stretch of coastline and beyond, across the water, the views to Portsmouth and the spire of the Spinnaker Tower.

  He stood waiting for her to arrive and pretty soon saw her small car turn into the car park. He gave her a smile and a wave. He had butterflies in his stomach! He so wanted this meeting to go well between them. It was imperative that it did so.

 
; His nerves grew worse when he saw her let a large German Shepherd dog out of the boot of her car. For some reason he’d expected something smaller, but Rebel was massive! He was dark with intense eyes, his ears up and alert, ready to protect his mistress.

  His mouth dry, he began to walk towards them.

  ‘Hi.’

  He stopped, looking down at the dog. Rebel was panting from the heat, but all Jamie could see were rows of sharp white teeth.

  Freya had him on a short leash. ‘Rebel, sit.’

  Instantly the dog sat and looked up to her, waiting for the next order.

  He was impressed, but also trying to control the feeling that he needed to bolt. He desperately wanted to run away from this dog, but he had no doubt that it would run after him and pull him to the ground with a well-placed jaw around his arm or leg. Or somewhere worse!

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

  ‘Bit nervous of dogs, to be honest.’

  She smiled, amused. ‘Rebel’s all right. You can trust him.’

  ‘Does he know he can trust me?’

  Her smile broadened. ‘We’re both still trying to work that out. So, shall we get going?’ She slung a backpack over her shoulder and locked her car.

  ‘Sure. How…um…how close should I get to you?’

  ‘Beside me is fine. Don’t worry, he won’t rip your throat out unless I tell him to.’

  ‘Oh, good. That makes me feel a lot better.’

  She laughed. ‘Come on!’

  Clearly Freya felt at ease with the dog at her side, and he had to admit he really rather liked this relaxed Freya. The dog? Not so much.

  Freya looked relaxed in her white tee shirt and blue shorts, sunglasses over her eyes and her hair swept back in a ponytail. She looked fresh and happy, and already he could see a slight swelling to her abdomen. Only three months pregnant, maybe, but this was twins so she was slightly bigger than normal.

  Three or four people on mountain bikes went cycling past as they headed onto the path.

  ‘You found the place all right, then?’ she asked.

  ‘My driver did.’

  ‘Of course. You have servants. I forget that when I see you at work.’

  ‘Just a driver. Some security. A valet at the hotel. Not much.’

  ‘Not much, huh? You have the entire third floor. I think you have plenty.’

  ‘Just a security issue, that’s all.’

  ‘Where are your guards today? Are they lurking behind bushes on the trail? Are they going to walk behind us at twenty paces?’ She looked behind them, as if to check.

  ‘Nothing like that.’

  He didn’t tell her that his security team had already swept the entire five-mile length of the trail. That he had one or two undercover men posing as walkers and another pretending to be a wildlife photographer. The trail passed a nature reserve, so it was the perfect place to hide men in plain sight.

  ‘It must be hard to live a life that’s watched over like that.’

  ‘You tell me.’

  She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Don’t you think that everyone is constantly looking at you? Watching your every move?’

  She looked away. ‘That’s different. That’s a perception. Your life is a reality. One you can’t escape from.’

  ‘Is that why you don’t want to be a part of it? Because people are always watching? Observing? Making judgements?’

  ‘Partly.’

  At least she was being honest.

  ‘You don’t notice it after a while,’ he said.

  ‘I would. I notice everything. Every little glance. Every raise of an eyebrow. Every frown. Every reaction—shock, fear, disgust. That last one I get more than you’d realise. Have you ever thought what that might feel like? To observe someone looking at your face and see that they’re disgusted? Of course you haven’t. Not looking the way you do. The world is open to those who are good-looking. It’s a proven scientific fact. Beautiful and handsome people get better jobs, better pay, more opportunities. Disabled and disfigured people always seem to be at the bottom of the pile.’

  ‘Life must have been hard for you.’

  ‘Must have been? It still is.’

  He didn’t know how to answer that. He would never know exactly what she had been through. What she still went through, looking in the mirror and seeing a different face.

  ‘But a new phase of our lives is opening up to both of us now.’

  She nodded, stopping as Rebel bent his head to sniff at a small post in the ground. ‘We have two separate, completely incompatible lives, Jamie. How are we going to manage this?’

  The truth? He didn’t know. He wanted to be a father to these babies, and to be in their lives, but he would be called upon to rule Majidar at some point and would have to leave this country. He didn’t want to leave them behind and she refused to go with him.

  He loved Majidar. Even though he had left it to come to England and make his life there. It was still his home. It was still the place where his family was. Where his heart was. His people were gracious and kind and understanding, but would they understand when they learned that he had left his children behind? Because he wouldn’t. He couldn’t get his head around it.

  He loved these babies. Already. He’d seen their little hearts beating, had seen them in her womb, two gorgeous little beans that were his. He felt he would die for them. Lay down his life for them. Already he dreamed of holding them in his arms, teaching them, playing with them, laughing at their chuckles and watching them grow.

  Be a king. Or be a father.

  It seemed to be one or the other, and it was an impossible decision to make.

  ‘We must manage it. We must find a way.’

  ‘But how?’

  He smiled at her. ‘Today is a good step forward. We can’t afford to shut each other out; we don’t have that luxury. I know it’s hard for you—hard for you to trust me and let me in.’ He paused over his next words, but knew he had to let her know that he knew. ‘I know what happened to you.’

  Freya stopped walking. So did Rebel, who turned back to look at her. ‘Who told you?’

  ‘No one was gossiping. I asked. I brought it up. I needed to know why you were shutting me out.’

  She started walking again, Rebel loping by her side. ‘I see.’

  ‘I don’t want you to be frightened of me, Freya. I’m not that kind of man.’

  ‘I can’t tell any more. My perspective on men is skewed.’

  ‘Hence the big dog?’ He smiled.

  She glanced at him. ‘Tell me why you’re afraid of dogs.’

  He thought about why he was afraid, glancing at Rebel’s teeth. ‘My brother and I were once playing out on the sand dunes. We’d gone out with our father, who was hunting with his falcons and his dogs. We had these big boards—like surfboards—and if we threw them right down the sloping side of a dune we could jump on and surf to the bottom. We were doing that…laughing and joking…having a brilliant time. I’d jumped onto my board and was sitting on it, surfing down the dune, when one of the dogs must have had his hunting instincts activated by our movement and high-pitched cries. This dog—this hound that was almost as tall as I was—raced over to me, and when the board stopped moving it grabbed onto my head, sinking its teeth into my scalp.’

  Freya looked fascinated. Interested.

  ‘My father got the dog to stop. It let go and I was rushed to the hospital with four puncture wounds to my skull. After that I couldn’t go near any dogs. They made me too nervous.’

  She nodded. ‘So you know how it feels.’

  He looked at her. ‘I do. I know you don’t know me well enough to be sure I’m not going to pounce, not going to sink my teeth in, but all I can say is I’m not like the man that did this to you. Just like Rebel, there, is probably nothing like the dog that attacked me.’

  ‘You have to trust that.’

  ‘As do you.’

  He touched her on the arm, making her stop. Then he s
ucked in a breath as he contemplated what he had to do. Show her that if he was willing to work past his fear, then so should she. With some hesitation he held his hand out towards Rebel, hoping the dog wouldn’t sense his fear. Hoping he wasn’t about to lose a chunk of his hand. His heart racing, he watching in horrid fascination as Rebel licked his fingers, then began sniffing the cuff of his shirt.

  Jamie knelt down in front of the dog and reached out to stroke it. His arms were trembling, but he was determined to do this. Rebel’s fur was soft and thick and, most surprisingly, the dog didn’t seem to mind him at all. Slowly he stood up and breathed a sigh of relief, a smile breaking across his face.

  ‘Well, that went better than I’d imagined.’

  A small smile broke across her face. ‘That must have taken a lot of courage. Were you really that scared?’

  ‘Terrified. But I trusted that I’d be okay. I hope you can do the same with me. Because only then can we get through this. As equals.’

  They began walking again, side by side, enjoying the views over the harbour and its old oyster beds, where masses of birds were nesting.

  ‘I’ll try. That’s all I can do.’

  Jamie nodded. ‘It’s all I ask.’

  Freya looked about her, then sucked in a breath and began talking. ‘I guess I ought to tell you about him. About Mike—the guy that did this.’

  ‘Only if you want to.’

  ‘I do.’

  Freya stooped to undo the clip on Rebel’s lead and set him free.

  Jamie felt a surge of anxiety, but decided he had to stay calm. She still had control of the dog. And the way the dog kept looking at her, waiting for instruction, showed that she did.

  ‘Mike made me think we were equals. At the beginning. He seemed to adore me. Wanted to be with me all the time. I thought that was just so wonderful, you know? But over time it became insidious, the way he manipulated that. He made me feel bad about going out to see other people. He questioned my clothing. He wanted to know why I needed to wear make-up. Was it for someone else? Was I flirting? I tried to prove him wrong by not wearing make-up, but then he wanted me to cut my hair short. Said it made me look flirty, being so long, that men looked at women with long hair in the wrong way.’