Page 31 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

‘Lucien didn’t tell you, did he?’ she’d asked and Aurélie had shaken her head.

‘I thought not.’ The Princess had stared at her stunning sapphire engagement ring. ‘He’s a decent man. He knows it’s something I prefer to keep private.’

‘I won’t tell a soul,’ Aurélie had assured her.

Ilsa had nodded. ‘But you deserve to know.’ She’d paused. ‘I wouldn’t marry Lucien if I were barren, because he needs heirs. But conceiving won’t necessarily be easy. Which means if wedidadopt your baby it would be a blessing, not a burden.’ Her gaze had caught Aurélie’s. ‘The decision is yours, but I want you to know that. If you imagined I’d resent the child, you couldn’t be more wrong.’

Aurélie sighed and stretched out her feet on the cobblestones. Where did that leave her?

Lucien had even suggested she enrol at university in Vallort so they could both be near their child.

Most men in his position would try to hide a child born in such circumstances, and its mother. But whenever Aurélie mentioned the scandal Lucien would face, adopting the baby or simply acknowledging it, he turned stubborn. He’d given up his own life to become King, he said, and the world would have to take him and his family as they were.

His family.

Aurélie strove not to read too much into that word. Yet it weakened her defences against him. She sensed that, whatever happened, Lucien would stand by their child. What more could she ask?

He and his fiancée were incredibly accommodating. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to agree to adoption. At the same time the idea of being a single mother with no family support was scary. Her mouth flattened as she imagined asking for help from her father or stepmother. That would be futile.

Tired of her circling thoughts, she got up and strolled down the street. A drift of music reached her and she saw buskers in the distance, collecting a smiling crowd.

On both sides old buildings housed beautiful shops that vied with each other to create tempting window displays. From a patisserie with a display of mouth-watering pastries and cakes to boutiques of fabulous fashion and exclusive leather goods that reminded her Vallort was a wealthy, if small nation.

Yet the city had an attractive quaintness. Outside each shop the cobblestone pavement contained a mosaic of white stones. There was a mosaic design of glasses set in the cobbles outside an optician’s. A stiletto heel in front of a shoe shop. Crossed skis on the ground outside a ski store and a scatter of coins outside a bank.

She smiled, lingering before a shop full of handmade wooden toys, for which Vallort was famous. Then a bookstore with a display of bright children’s books.

Aurélie imagined reading to her son or daughter before bed, as her mother had read to her every night.

Did she want to miss out on that? On holding her baby and watching it grow?

On the other hand, if she gave it up, it would be heir to a kingdom. Lucien had explained that her child would inherit if adopted or born in wedlock. It would have everything money could buy. Was she selfish to hesitate?

To her horror, tears pricked her eyes. No matter what she decided, she’d wonder if she’d done right. All she could do was go with her heart.

Aurélie spun round and turned towards the palace.

‘So, I’ve decided.’ Aurélie frowned and looked at the fire crackling in the grate. The light played across her face, highlighting the intriguing curves and hollows of her features and the tension imprinted there. ‘I’ll keep the baby with me and go back to France. But you can see it whenever you want. Later on, he or she can come to stay with you for holidays or...’ Her voice petered out.

Lucien pulled his gaze away as pain sliced his belly. Was that feeling of loss, the sharp stab through his gut, because he wouldn’t get to raise his child? Because he’d be a long-distance parent?

Or because Aurélie was leaving?

But that was a good thing. The alternative, of her living close enough to see regularly, would be a mistake.

He tried to be a decent man. He was doing his duty by his country. Yet no bridegroom, even in an arranged marriage, should promise his life to one woman when he felt likethisabout another.

Suddenly he was on his feet, pacing the sitting room and back to the mantelpiece, staring down into the orange tongues of flame.

Aurélie’s timing was terrible. He was about to escort Ilsa to an official dinner. There was no time for proper discussion. Had Aurélie known that? Had she chosen her moment deliberately?

‘I’m sorry. I guess you’re disappointed.’ Aurélie rose and moved towards him. In well-worn jeans and a figure-hugging long-sleeved black top, she looked far too sexy. Her hair was a bright, glowing halo and her downturned pout drew his hungry gaze.

As she approached Lucien stiffened then saw her register the movement. She pulled up short. Did he imagine a bruised look of distress in her eyes?

‘I know it seems mad not to accept your offer. I’m denying our child the right to inherit all this.’ She waved her arm wide. ‘But when it came to the crunch, I can’t leave it here. It’s my child. I want to know it, love it, care for it. I want it to know and love me too.’

Lucien’s mouth twisted.

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