Page 13 of Crowned For The King's Secret

‘It is. Exhausting, challenging. Incredible. There’s never any switching off, but it’s all I’ve ever wanted.’

‘No nanny?’

She frowned. ‘I didn’t want to subcontract parenting to anyone. I have my brother and sister-in-law and they love Nic. There’s a university student who comes to help at times if I’m working. But no nanny. I’m surprised you didn’t know that.’

He didn’t understand—what should he know? He’d only found out about his child recently. Nic threw his toy on the floor of the car and Victoria picked it up, gave it back to him. He threw it down again. She rustled in the bag next to her and pulled out something, unwrapped it and handed it to Nic.

‘Do you want a rusk, darling?’

His son grabbed what she handed him and began chewing. She looked out of the window again. He didn’t want her to realise they were going in the opposite direction to London. Whilst any histrionics would be contained now they were in the vehicle, he’d prefer none. Not yet, anyway.

‘Has he been a...a good baby?’

He’d never been around children; he didn’t know what to ask. Victoria raised her eyebrows. Sighed.

‘So you haven’t read the reports. What a surprise.Fine. He’s teething now and that hurts him, so it’s lots of restless nights and exhausting. As a newborn he was always happy. Smiling. Though the witching hour in the early evening was horrible and he’d cry and cry, plus he had a bit of colic, but as for the rest of the time he was an angel.’

Sandro didn’t know what the witching hour was and all he knew of colic was from his horses, so it sounded painful and dangerous. A cold chill ran through him at the thought of this child in pain. Of how much he’d missed because of this woman.

‘The traffic’s bad this afternoon and Nic isn’t usually good in cars.’

He needed to get her talking. He didn’t want her focused on the outside of the car, but on the inside.

‘Milestones?’ He’d been told this was important, and frustratingly, whilst his secret service could find out a great deal about Victoria, Nic remained a mystery.

Victoria frowned again, such a disapproving look. As though he’d in some way mortally failed her.

‘All normal. I kept a book of them if you’d like to actually read something about your child when we get back home... Though I suppose you won’t be joining us.’

He was interested in that book, but a tiny stab of guilt pricked at him. The dark rings under her eyes, the slightly worn look to her, as if she needed to put her head down and sleep. Obvious tiredness that wasn’t hidden by the touch of make-up she’d put on. He didn’t know why that worried him so much. Why her health meant anything to him at all.

‘How was the pregnancy and the rest? I hope it was easy.’

She looked at him. Her eyes cool, like granite. ‘Youreallywant to know?’

All he was trying to do was continue the small talk. But secretly, he did want to know. He nodded.

‘A little morning sickness. I was tired all the time for the first three months. They say the second trimester is the best but it wasn’t for me, and the third was hell. I had a lot of pain. Moving about was difficult. Things are still...Anyway...’

Theanywayseemed to carry so much weight. A heaviness he had trouble comprehending. Nic continued chewing on the hard stick of bread. Making a mess. He held it out to Sandro.

‘Da!’

‘I called my father Papa,’ he said. That thought came out of nowhere. A burn stung at the back of his nose. He breathed through it. The memories distant, as if he were seeing everything through mist. Only snatches. Occasional weekends in the country. A pet rabbit on his sixth birthday. So much he’d missed with his parents...

All those tender, soft memories and feelings had no place in his life. Not any more. They made you weak, prevented you from doing what you had to do. He’d already missed a year of Nic’s life. He’d lose no more. He had a responsibility to his son and would think only of that. Of the boy he needed to protect with his considerable powers as a king. Nothing else.

‘You are sure you’re okay?’

There was that concern for his welfare again. He didn’t know why she kept asking him. Part of him softened, warmed. Began to question...

No.

He knew how deadly a woman could be. His aunt had been co-conspirator in his parents’ deaths. Some claimed, an active participant. The evidence against Victoria was incontrovertible. His son, who’d been hidden from him. His cousin’s visits to her. The money going into her account. There was nothing more he needed to know. He refused to mull on the prickling doubt.

‘Yes, why wouldn’t I be?’

‘You lost your parents young, Sandro. I—I well know how having a child can bring a lot of things to the surface.’

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