Page 64 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

Perfect for me.His words teased her.

She’d never been perfect for anyone except her mother. It was dangerous to think in those terms. Lucien was a good man, and caring, but he was only making the best of a difficult situation. They were together because she was pregnant. That was all.

The building had huge plate glass windows. On the ground floor she made out acres of display cabinets crammed with delicious treats and beyond that an elegant high-ceilinged room, exquisitely decorated. The patisserie looked as if it belonged in a more gracious age.

‘We’re going upstairs.’ Lucien nodded towards more huge windows and Aurélie caught sight of tables facing out across the square.

‘It’s very...imposing.’

‘It’s one of the city’s finest restaurants. An ideal place to see and be seen.’

Be seen? Aurélie was hoping to escape public attention for a bit.

A uniformed staff member opened the door with a bow and they headed up a grand crimson-carpeted staircase.

‘It feels as opulent as the palace,’ she whispered, trying to repress nerves and burgeoning curiosity.

‘It’s had royal patronage for three centuries. But don’t worry, the food is fantastic and the service friendly.’ He stopped, passing his coat to a waiter and helping Aurélie out of hers.

Lucien’s gaze skimmed her new dress. ‘Idoapprove,’ he murmured, then looked up. ‘Ah, she’s already here.’

He ushered her across the spacious room towards a table at the centre window, set apart from the others. It commanded a view of the whole square and up a broad boulevard to the palace.

His fingers squeezed Aurélie’s as they stopped before the table, set with damask linen, cut crystal and heavy silverware. A slim woman in a stylish crimson suit surveyed them with shrewd amber eyes. Her hair was white and her hands knobbly with age but her bearing was upright and her aristocratic features firm.

‘Aunt Josephine, I’d like you to meet Aurélie Balland. Aurélie, this is my great-aunt, the Grand Duchess Josephine of Vallort.’

Aurélie’s heart skipped. Grand Duchess sounded as daunting as King and this old lady’s severe stare wasn’t welcoming.

Should you curtsey to a grand duchess?

Aurélie decided to treat her as she would anyone else.

‘It’s lovely to meet you.’ She reached out to shake her hand. For an instant she justknewshe’d done the wrong thing, when that stare turned piercing. Then an arthritic hand lifted and clasped hers in a surprisingly strong grip.

‘How do you do?’ The old lady turned to Lucien. ‘Sit down, do. You’ll give me a crick in my neck, looking up so far.’

Instead of being daunted by her complaint, Lucien grinned and bent to kiss her. ‘It’s good to see you looking so well.’

‘And why wouldn’t I? Nothing wrong with me, Lucien. I don’t have time to be ill.’ She paused, frowning, as the waiter approached and murmured something to Lucien.

Lucien shot Aurélie an apologetic look and her heart sank. ‘I’m sorry. This will only take a few minutes but I really do need to deal with it.’

The Grand Duchess shooed him away. ‘Come back when you can devote your full attention to us. In the meantime we can have a cosy chat.’

The gimlet stare she gave Aurélie looked anything but cosy, but Aurélie told herself it couldn’t be worse than facing the press pack shouting questions. Could it?

‘So, you’re Lucien’s young woman. Like the idea of feathering your nest in a royal palace, eh? I gather it’s a far cry from your previous life, waiting tables. I’m not surprised you jumped at the chance to hook Lucien.’

Aurélie jerked back in her seat as if she’d been slapped. She hadn’t expected to be welcomed with open arms, but nor had she expected this. Naively, she’d thought the worst she’d have to face today was the clamorous press.

‘Actually,’ she said, knotting her fingers in her lap and lifting her chin, ‘living in a palace, or in this case a castle, isn’t my preference. Apart from anything else, I don’t like the way people think it gives them the right to judge what goes on inside.’

Not wanting to meet that inimical amber stare that should have been like Lucien’s but wasn’t, she turned to look outside. There, sure enough, was a huddle of photographers, lenses trained on her. If Lucien had booked this table hoping to show her being welcomed into the royal family that was about to backfire terribly.

‘If you’re looking for sympathy you won’t get any. There’s a price to be paid for notoriety.’

Aurélie dragged her gaze back, stifling the urge to get up from the table. Running wouldn’t help. Besides, why should the words of one sour old woman hurt her? She’d ignored jibes from her father and stepmother and by now all of Europe thought her some tart.

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