Page 10 of Crowned For The King's Secret

‘Mr Arnold...’ She heard the murmur of a voice on the other end. Sandro looked at her. ‘My stay has been perfect... Yes. I’m considering having a visitor to my suite this afternoon. She’d like confirmation of a few details...’

He handed the mobile to her, warm from his hand. What could she say?I don’t trust His Majesty, so can you please confirm he’s booked to stay with you?That might be the truth, but she’d never admit it publicly because her fear gave him power over her.

‘Hello, this is Victoria Astill.’

‘Lady Victoria,’ the man said. She’d met the manager only once before, in what she considered to be her old life. One she’d left behind. It was strange to hear her honorific being used again. That time seemed so distant now, but her brother was the Duke of Bedmore and still notorious. Not for his antics any more, but for the grand love story with his beautiful wife. ‘How may I help you?’

She had to make up something that sounded plausible.

‘As His Majesty told you, I’m thinking of visiting this afternoon for a meal and of bringing my son, who’s one year old... I’m assuming you’re able to cater for him?’

‘Of course...’ the manager said. They discussed whether Nic had any allergies, likes, dislikes. At least she could be assured Sandro was telling her the truth. She thanked the manager and hung up.

‘I hope his answers were to your satisfaction.’

‘Yes, but I still—’

A cry sounded from the monitor. Nicci was sitting up in his cot, tugging at his ears. Poor little man. His teeth might be the end of her. Sandro looked to the monitor as well, then at her. She’d run out of options, for now at least.

‘I’ll just go and get him—wait here.’

She walked to Nic’s room, her heart pounding. She was terrified at the thought of Sandro meeting him, as if it would steal something of her son from her. But that wasn’t fair to Nic. She’d never deprive him of the father who now seemed to want to get to know him, even if she remained unsure of travelling to central London. The dread of what a surprise might mean, although who knew? He might simply be wanting to give Nic a pony, or maybe even some kind of heirloom, like a...a...crown. She laughed in a mildly hysterical way at that as she opened the door.

‘Hello, little man, are your teeth giving you trouble?’

Nic sat there, tugging at his ear with one hand, other thumb in his mouth. Vic lifted him up and he snuggled into her arms. She gave him an extra-long hug, burying her nose into his hair and kissing him on his head.

‘Come and meet your daddy.’

The words sat strangely on her tongue now that Sandro was in the house, as if the reality of it all carried such weight. Victoria checked his nappy, which was still dry, and clutched him tight as she walked down the stairs to her lounge, where Sandro stood, flicking through the scrapbooks on the table next to her laptop.

As she entered the room he wheeled around. Walked up to her slowly, eyes wide, as if he almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Nic turned his head, and she whispered to him, ‘That’s your daddy, darling.’

‘He looks like I did as a child. I only ever had one photograph of myself.’ Sandro’s tanned skin looked paler. His Adam’s apple rose and fell in a swallow. She wondered what it would be like to see herself truly reflected in her child, because the minute Nic had been born she’d known she would be reminded of his father for ever. Every day, looking at her son was a vivid reminder of the man standing before her right now.

‘You gave him my middle name, my father’s name.’ Sandro might have been speaking to her, but he didn’t look anywhere bar at Nic. Fixed on the little boy in her arms. ‘For that I should thank you.’

The words sounded bitter on his tongue. Perhaps it was self-recrimination for staying away so long—she couldn’t tell. When she’d proposed the name her palace contact tried to dissuade her, suggesting other names that didn’t resonate. Deep in her heart she knew the name she’d chosen was right. She’d read about Sandro’s father in the research she could find. He sounded like a good man, and what better way to connect her son to the countries of both his father and mother than name him after two fine men? The paternal grandfather his people seemed to love, and the maternal uncle who’d remade himself into a loving husband and philanthropist.

So, Nicolai Lance he had become.

She should offer Sandro the opportunity to hold him, but she didn’t want to relinquish her little boy to anybody. Not yet. The silence then was heavy. Almost as if something momentous was about to occur. Nicci lifted his head from her shoulder to look at the man she had no doubt he would someday grow to look just like, watching Sandro with his big grey-blue eyes. She knew her resolve weakened as she witnessed this silent meeting. Sandro looked as if he’d seen a ghost, the myriad emotions flickering across his face real and impossible to hide. He was affected. This was a child he wanted to know. So why had he stayed away?

Then Nic reached out his little hand, spreading his chubby fingers. Opening and closing it as if he was trying to grasp something just out of reach.

‘Da!’

And Victoria knew from that moment that her life had changed for ever.

CHAPTER TWO

SANDRODIDN’TKNOWwho to look at, his son, or the woman who’d become his downfall in so many ways. The one he’d craved, the memories of a perfect night overtaking him in quiet moments, his moments of weakness. So much so that when his secret trip to the UK to negotiate better security and trade ties was being arranged, he’d held illicit fantasies about meeting up with her again for one more night, to see if they could rekindle a few moments of magic before he went back to the brutal reality of what it was to rule a broken country.

In that moment of weakness, he’d asked his head of security to find her. To ascertain whether she remained single, whether she might welcome his getting in touch.

What they’d found was his own personal nightmare. The words‘Your Majesty, we have a problem...’were still ringing loud in his head. She’d had a child. There were reports that his deposed cousin was a regular visitor to her home, that she’d been receiving money. Then the birth certificate, naming him as the father... Could it be true, or was it an elaborate ruse? He’d been filled with cold dread at what another illegitimate child could mean for his country, especially one in the power of his cousin and a scheming woman. Santa Fiorina had been almost destroyed by another illegitimate member of his family and a wife so ambitious, she’d been an accomplice to terrible violence.

It was Sandro’s obligation never to allow that to happen again.

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