Pregnant with His Royal Twins

by Louisa Heaton

  ‘I’ve arranged for us to have the store to ourselves, and for personal shoppers to bring us anything we wish to see. We don’t have any clothes yet for the little ones, and I’d like us to get a few things.’ Jamie smiled and squeezed her hand once more.

  ‘Jamie, you didn’t have to do this. I could have ordered online, like I always do.’

  ‘I thought it would be better to see the items in person, before we buy. And I know you don’t like crowds, so we have the place to ourselves. Now, what sort of thing should we look at first?’

  ‘How about their going-home outfits?’ Michelle suggested, snapping her fingers at some staff who must be were hidden away beyond Freya’s eyeline. ‘Would you like some tea? I can have a tray brought in.’

  She almost felt dizzy with the possibility of it all.

  Was this what it felt like to be a princess?

  A princess in a hoodie and jeans…

  Chapter Eight

  ‘JAMIE, THIS FEELS WEIRD.’ She leant over to whisper to him.

  He smiled at her. ‘Why?’

  ‘All these people running around after me. Fetching and carrying. It’s not right.’

  ‘It’s what you do when you’re at work. Don’t you look after your pregnant mothers? Fetching them cups of tea? Getting them epidurals or pethidine or gas and air? Don’t you rub their backs and mop their heads with cool flannels when they need it? Hold their hands?’

  She could understand his point. But that was different, surely? That was her job. Her patients needed her to do that because that was what she was trained to do. It was what she was there for.

  ‘It’s what they’re here for, Freya,’ Jamie said, echoing her thought process. ‘It’s what they’re paid to do.’

  ‘It just doesn’t feel right to be on the receiving end of it, that’s all.’

  ‘Enjoy it whilst you can. When Samuel and James get here you’ll look back on this moment and wonder why you didn’t take full advantage of getting to put your feet up for a short while.’

  She smiled as she imagined her babies in her arms. Who would they look like? Would they be dark-haired, like Jamie? Or blonde, like her? Would they have his intense midnight-dark eyes or her blue ones? Would they be happy, giggly babies? Or cry all the time with colic?

  It was getting so close now, and she couldn’t wait to hold them in her arms. To feel their little bodies snuggled up close to hers. She was looking forward to breastfeeding, if she could, although she worried about producing enough milk for both of them. She knew her body was designed to produce as much milk as the babies needed, but she couldn’t stop worrying. Fretting about this and that. All the what ifs and all the horrors that might befall them.

  She knew it was a normal part of being a new parent. She and Jamie were about to take on a huge responsibility and that they, more than anyone else, had uncertain futures.

  I can’t think about that now. I told myself I wouldn’t.

  The personal shoppers arrived, pushing a small clothes rail from which hung a plethora of baby clothes on tiny hangers. She went through them one by one, holding them, touching them. Laughing and smiling with Jamie as they imagined their sons dressed in each item and cooing over the small size of each piece.

  She picked out baby vests and Babygros, tee shirts and tiny pairs of trousers. There were the most gorgeous pairs of baby shoes and trainers, pure white scratch mitts and the cutest knitted hats that looked like raccoons and foxes. She chose them both a winter snow suit, and picked out towels with white stripes that were adorned with tiny white sheep, and a gorgeous set of soft cherrywood brushes for their hair.

  Michelle suggested a range of handmade bibs that were more like neckerchiefs, and then they moved on to car seats, and a double buggy that they both practised putting up and collapsing down. Freya chose a V-shaped pillow to assist with breastfeeding support, and a cute bedroom thermometer that looked like an owl. Plain and patterned fitted sheets and cellular blankets went onto the purchase pile. Then there were all the toys—teddy bears and rattles and soothers.

  As each item was scanned Freya began to feel a little queasy. She saw the total totting up but, glancing at Jamie, she saw he was totally unfazed and realised that cost was not a concern for him. How nice it must be, she thought, not to have to worry about the pennies.

  ‘And where shall we deliver this?’ Michelle asked.

  Jamie gave them her address and arranged a time for delivery tomorrow, promising Freya that the men would bring everything up to her flat and pack it away for her, so that she didn’t have to do a thing.

  ‘Oh, no—I’d like to do it, if that’s okay.’ She very much wanted to go through everything by herself. Sorting out where to put the clothes and how to organise everything in the wardrobes that Jamie had put up the other day.

  ‘Just the clothes,’ Jamie agreed. ‘You’re meant to be resting.’

  Michelle escorted them back through the store, down into the lift and back to their car, waving at them as they drove off, with a big smile on her face.

  ‘Well, if she works on commission I think we’ve just bought enough to give her the rest of the year off,’ Freya joked.

  Jamie laid his hand on hers. ‘Did you enjoy it?’

  She smiled. ‘I did. You were right—it was lovely to actually see the items in person, rather than online. Some of those clothes were just so dinky!’

  He laughed. ‘They were, weren’t they?’

  Freya out a long sigh. ‘So, are we going back home now?’

  ‘I thought we could go and get something to eat, if that’s okay?’

  She thought of the crowds, and her mood dipped slightly. ‘What did you have in mind?’

  ‘How about pizza?’

  Oh, yes! ‘You read my mind.’

  *

  Jamie parked the car by the marina and left the engine on, keeping them warm as they ate their pizza. The boats were lit with security lights and bobbed about on the gently rocking waves as the wind whipped across the bay, biting at any exposed flesh on passers-by.

  ‘Thanks for tonight, Jamie. It was amazing—it really was.’

  ‘Once you got over what it felt like to be looked after for a change?’

  She laughed. ‘I guess.’

  He peered out of the window. ‘Still no snow.’

  ‘I told you.’

  ‘Yes, you did.’ He wiped at his mouth and fingers with a napkin, before closing the lid on his pizza. ‘That was delicious.’

  ‘The pizza? Or me being right?’

  He smiled at her. ‘Both. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

  Wouldn’t he? She knew this situation wasn’t ideal for either of them. They both wanted the same things for the years ahead. They wanted to stay here in England. But he knew he would have to leave at some point. To be King. It was a dark thought that cast a long shadow over both of them.

  ‘I’m sorry, Jamie.’

  He turned to her and frowned. ‘For what?’

  ‘For not being able to leave here. For not agreeing to be your wife. I know it’s me that’s making this difficult for you and that if I just changed my mind then everything would be okay.’

  Jamie shook his head. ‘I would never force you to do anything. Never. I love the fact that you have been honest with me.’ He took one of her hands in his and kissed the back of it. ‘You were true to yourself. You told me the truth and I appreciate that. It makes what we have all the more special.’

  She squeezed his fingers. ‘What do we have, Jamie? Sometimes I’m not sure of anything.’

  ‘We have a promise to be there for our children together, as much as we can be. To love them, and each other, until we can no longer do so.’

  And each other? What did he mean by that? That he loved her? Or that the babies would love each other? That they would have a loving family? What he’d said was ambiguous. It could mean anything. And, although she was desperate to know whether he loved her, she felt at that moment that she couldn’t ask him. The
words were stuck in her throat.

  She nodded. ‘I don’t want them to miss out on anything.’

  ‘They won’t.’

  ‘I don’t mean we should spoil them. I mean…’ She looked away, out across the bay, past the boats and out to sea, where God only knew what was waiting. ‘I mean that they should know just how much they are loved, by both of us. Even if one of us isn’t there.’

  ‘They will.’ Jamie’s voice was deep and full of emotion.

  She loved it that he cared about this as much as she did. That his love for their babies ran as deeply as hers. Desperately she wanted to grab his hands and beg him never to go. Never to leave them. But she knew she couldn’t ask him that. He had a duty. Over a million people would need him one day.

  She couldn’t make him choose between Majidar and her! He would always resent her for making him do it. So she knew that one day he would have to leave, and the idea of that, as her babies’ birth grew closer, was beginning to break her heart.

  Her feelings for Jamie had changed and grown. Especially over these last few weeks. Why did they have to be in this situation? Why did he have to be born to such a duty? Why couldn’t he just be a midwife? Some random guy whom she’d met one day?

  Why did he have to be a prince? Heir to a throne?

  Why would she have to break her own heart one day and let go of him?

  It wasn’t fair.

  *

  Christmas morning arrived in the middle of a downpour.

  Freya would not let the rain sully her day. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that today was a day for family, and that for the first time in for ever she wouldn’t be spending it alone with her mum. Jamie would be with them, arriving mid-morning, having lunch with them, before he had to leave for his shift at the hospital.

  She hoped he’d like the present she’d got him. It had taken her ages to find something she thought he might like. What did you buy a prince—a man who could buy anything?

  In the end she’d been rather sneaky, asking the security guys who followed her to get her a picture of Jamie’s most successful racehorse so that she could have a painting done. One of her patients was an artist, and she’d commissioned her to do it.

  Freya had to admit the painting looked amazing. Jamie’s horse, Pride of Jameel, was a magnificent-looking animal, and Susie had painted the stallion standing tall and proud on a sand dune, his black coat gleaming.

  As a little something extra—something silly—she’d got him a pair of teddy bears that played a recording of their twins’ heartbeats when their bellies were squeezed.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Mum!’

  ‘Merry Christmas, Freya!’ Her mum turned and blew her a kiss before turning her attention back to the frying pan. ‘Full English for you?’

  ‘Erm…just bacon and eggs, please.’

  ‘What time are we expecting your young man?’

  ‘Around ten, I think.’

  ‘You’ve told him we don’t open our gifts until after lunch?’

  Freya nodded.

  ‘And he’s okay with turkey?’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘What about the sausages? They’re pork.’

  ‘If there’s anything he doesn’t want he’ll just leave it.’

  ‘I don’t want to offend him.’

  ‘You won’t, Mum. Honestly.’

  ‘It’s such an important day. I wouldn’t want to ruin it.’

  She helped her mum prepare all the vegetables, peel the potatoes and baste the turkey, which was already in the oven. The kitchen was filled with succulent aromas as they made the bread sauce, the cranberry sauce, and her mum’s special stuffing. In the background Christmas carols played from the radio, and Freya realised as she sliced and chopped that she had never felt happier. It was Christmas, she was going to be a mother, and she had a man in her life whom she loved.

  She’d fought it. Oh, how she’d tried to fight it! But she had to be honest with herself and admit the truth. She loved Jamie. He’d made it impossible for her not to.

  Part of her still couldn’t quite believe she had made herself that vulnerable again, but the other part—her love for Jamie—kept telling her it didn’t matter, because she felt sure he loved her too and that he would never try to hurt her the way that Mike had, that by opening her heart and allowing him in she was not going to get burned this time.

  There was only one way Jamie could hurt her, and that was by leaving, but she was being optimistic and trusting in what Jamie had said. They might have years together yet. Samuel and James might be grown men before he got called back to Majidar, so why waste all that time being lonely and miserable when they could be together, happy and loved?

  The doorbell rang, breaking her thoughts, and instantly a smile lit her face. Wiping her hands on a tea towel, she went to answer the door.

  Jamie stood on the doorstep beneath the shadow of a large black umbrella, holding a small sack of Christmas presents in his other hand.

  ‘Merry Christmas!’

  He smiled and stepped forward, planting a kiss upon her lips that made her hungry for more. She could have stood there all day, kissing him in the doorway, if it hadn’t been for her mum coming to the door.

  ‘Well, let the poor man in, Freya—it’s bucketing down out there!’

  ‘Something smells good.’

  ‘It’s your lunch. I hope you’re hungry?’

  He met her gaze. ‘Starving.’

  Freya could have melted there and then. The heat between them had been growing uncontrollably, and it was a terrible struggle not to let things advance between them physically when it was what they both wanted.

  ‘Come on through. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

  ‘Nope.’ He took the bag of presents back from her. ‘I’ll make the tea. You put your feet up. Just show me where to put these and I’ll get right on it.’

  Freya showed him where to put the presents and then allowed him to settle her down on the couch, lifting her feet onto a foot rest.

  He leaned over her, his hands either side of her, his face close to her own. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  ‘You saw me just yesterday.’ She smiled, glancing down at his soft, sultry lips.

  ‘And I missed you the second I left. I’m so happy to be here with you today. You have no idea.’

  How was everything going so right for her? How was she so lucky? To have this—Jamie, the babies, Christmas, the future. Just a year or so ago her future had seemed quite lonely, but now…now she had everything she could possibly want. Perhaps it was her turn to be happy. She’d had what felt like a lifetime of pain, disappointment and grief. Her luck was turning at last.

  Jamie slid onto the couch next to her and she rested her head against his strong, broad shoulder. She sat there feeling content. Happy.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘YOU’VE NOT GOT long now. Just a few more weeks before those babies arrive. What are you planning on doing once they get here?’

  Freya frowned at her mum. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well I know you’re getting the flat ready, and the nursery is all decked out, but do you have any plans to move in together?’

  Freya looked at Jamie, unsure. They hadn’t talked about this.

  ‘I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about the future, but I don’t want to push Freya unless she’s ready,’ Jamie answered diplomatically.

  It was scary. Terrifying. But she said it anyway. ‘I might be ready.’

  He raised an eyebrow, smiling. ‘Really?’

  ‘I’ll need all the help I can get when the twins are born, and it would make sense, wouldn’t it?’

  Freya’s mum was looking between them. ‘What a romantic you are, Freya! You could sound a little more enthusiastic if you’re asking him to move in!’

  If she’d been able to blush properly she would have. Instead she looked at Jamie uncertainly. ‘I’d love you to move in. If you’re ready?’

  Did he know how much it was ta
king for her to say this?

  Jamie put down his knife and fork, dabbed at his mouth with a napkin and then got to his feet, walking around the table to kneel by her side. He took her hand in his and kissed it. ‘I’d love to move in.’

  Freya’s mum clapped her hands together in excitement. ‘Oh, yes! What a merry Christmas it is, indeed!’

  Jamie embraced Freya in a quick hug, kissed her on the lips and then went back to his seat. ‘Let’s have a toast.’ He raised his glass of juice and waited for Freya and her mum to do the same. ‘To moving in and to bright futures.’

  ‘To moving in and to bright futures!’

  Their glasses clinked.

  *

  Freya had got her mum a scarf, hat and mittens set, along with a couple of books she wanted and some Belgian chocolates to satisfy her sweet tooth.

  In return she’d received a gift voucher, some perfume, a new pair of pyjamas and a book in which to record all the twins’ milestones as they grew.

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  ‘You’re welcome, love.’

  ‘Your turn, Jamie.’

  Her mum had bought him a bottle of aftershave and a jumper, which he immediately tried on and declared that it fitted perfectly.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs MacFadden.’

  He handed Freya’s mum an envelope, and when she opened it she realised, to her immense delight, that she’d been given a pass for a spa day at the Franklin Hotel.

  ‘Jamie, that’s brilliant—thank you!’

  ‘After all your hard work in the kitchen today, you deserve it.’

  ‘Open this next.’

  Freya passed Jamie her present. The painting of his favourite horse, wrapped in bubble wrap and Christmas paper and tied with a huge, sparkly silver bow.

  Curious, he began to unwrap it, struggling a little with all the tape Freya had used, until eventually he turned it around to see what it was.

  ‘Freya, that’s just gorgeous! It looks like Pride of Jameel.’

  ‘It is!’

  She laughed at the pure delight and amazement on his face, pleased that she could make him so happy—the same way he made her feel. This was what it was all about. Moments like these. When you could make the person you loved feel joy.