Mum's The Word!: Royal Heirs Required

A scandal could jeopardize his plans for stabilizing Sherdana’s economy. Would the earl still allow Olivia to marry him if word got out that Gabriel had illegitimate twin daughters? And what if Olivia wasn’t willing to accept that her children wouldn’t be his only ones?

Gabriel left the library, burdened by a whole new set of worries, determined to make sure his future bride found him irresistible.

* * *

From her place of honor beside the king of Sherdana, Olivia watched her future husband slip through the guests assembled in the golden ballroom and wondered what was so important that he had to leave the Independence Day gala in such a hurry.

It continued to bother her that in less than four weeks, she was going to become a princess, Gabriel’s princess, and she had very little insight into the man she was marrying. Theirs was not a love match the likes of which Kate had found with William. Olivia and Gabriel were marrying to raise her father’s social position and improve Sherdana’s economic situation.

While that was great for everyone else, Olivia’s London friends wondered what was motivating her. She’d never told anyone about the dream conceived by her three-year-old self that one day she’d become a princess. It had been a child’s fancy and as she’d grown up, reality replaced the fairy tale. As a teenager she’d stopped imagining herself living in a palace and dancing through the night with a handsome prince. Her plans for the future involved practical things like children’s charities and someday a husband and children of her own. But some dreams had deep roots that lay dormant until the time was ripe.

Before Olivia considered her actions, she turned to the king. “Excuse me.”

“Of course,” the handsome monarch replied, his smile cordial.

Released, she left the king and headed in the direction her fiancé had gone. Perhaps she could catch Gabriel before he returned to the ballroom and they could spend some time talking, just the two of them. She hadn’t gone more than a dozen steps before Christian Alessandro appeared in her path.

His gold eyes, shadowed and wary around most people, warmed as he smiled down at her. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Of course,” she replied, bottling up a sigh as the youngest Alessandro prince foiled her plan to speak to his brother alone.

She’d encountered Christian several times in London over the years. As the wildest Alessandro brother, in his university days, Christian had spent more time partying than studying and had barely graduated from Oxford. He’d earned a reputation as a playboy, but had always treated her with respect. Maybe because Olivia had recognized the clever mind he hid beneath his cavalier charm.

“I noticed Prince Gabriel left the party in a hurry,” she murmured, unable to conquer the curiosity that loosened her tongue. “I hope nothing is wrong.”

Christian had an impressive poker face. “Just some old business he had to take care of. Nothing important.”

“He looked a bit shaken up.” She stared at her future brother-in-law and saw the tiniest twitch at the corner of his eye. He was keeping something important about Gabriel from her. Olivia’s pulse skipped. Seemed she wasn’t the only one with secrets.

Since Gabriel had opened negotiations with her father a year ago, Olivia hadn’t had much opportunity to get to know the man she would marry. The situation hadn’t improved since she’d arrived in Sherdana a week ago. With the wedding only a month away and parliament in session, they’d barely spent an hour alone together and most of that had been divided up into one-to five-minute snippets.

A stroll in the garden the day after she’d arrived, cut short when they’d met the queen’s very muddy vizsla. Gabriel had commended Olivia’s nimbleness in dodging the dog and retreated to the palace to change his trousers.

A moment in the carriage before the parade yesterday. He’d complimented her hat.

A whole five minutes during the waltz this evening. He’d told her she looked lovely.

Their exchanges were polite and cordial. At all times he’d been the perfect prince. Courteous. Gallant. Cultured. And she’d been seized by the absurd desire to muss his hair and shock him with outrageous remarks. Of course, she would never do that. The daughter of an earl, she was acutely conscious of her image and position.

Christian refocused her attention on the crowd around them and began filling her ear with all sorts of salacious gossip about the local nobility. Normally she’d be amused by his outrageous slander of Sherdana’s wealthy and powerful, but with each new dance the air in the ballroom grew stuffier and she wanted to spend time getting to know her fiancé.

What did Gabriel expect from her? A political partner? Or an attractive figurehead that he could trot out for state occasions? She hoped it was the former.

Firstborn, he’d won the right to inherit the throne by a mere forty minutes. But there was no question in anyone’s mind that he was utterly and completely suited to the role.

His commitment to Sherdana was absolute and apparent to all. He’d been educated here and rarely left, except on official business. While in contrast, his two younger brothers had both chosen to spend as little time in their native country as possible.

Drawn by a magnetic pull too great to resist, her attention returned to the ballroom doors that Gabriel had passed through. What could have taken him away in the middle of the party? As if her thoughts had summoned him, she spied the prince coming through the crowd toward her.

Her gaze traced the sculpted breadth of his shoulders, the way his white jacket stretched across his broad chest, providing an abundance of room for the medals pinned there. A blue sash cut diagonally from shoulder to hip.

“Forgive me for neglecting you,” he said as he came to a stop before her. “I hope my brother has kept you sufficiently entertained.”

“Christian has been filling me in on your guests.”

For the first time in her company, Gabriel’s courteous mask slipped. He shot his brother a hard look. “What have you been telling her?”

“Things most people, including you, wouldn’t. If she’s going to be Sherdana’s princess, she needs to know where the bodies are buried or she’ll be no help to you at all.”

Gabriel shook his head. “She doesn’t need to know all the ins and outs of our politics to help out the country or me.”

Olivia’s heart sank. Now she knew what he expected from her. There would be no partnership, no working together. She would attend ceremonies and support charities while he ran the country and dealt with its problems alone.

“She’s smarter than you’re giving her credit for, Gabriel. You should use her to your best political advantage.”

“Thank you for your opinion, brother.” And his tone said that was the end of the conversation.

With a mocking bow, Christian retreated. While part of Olivia regretted his departure, she was glad for a moment alone with Gabriel. Or she was until he began to speak.

“I know you haven’t seen much of Sherdana since your arrival,” he said, his polite formality pushing her to greater impatience. “But maybe that can change in the next week or so.”

“That would be lovely.” She bit back her thoughts on how unlikely it was. With the wedding only a month away she would scarcely have the opportunity to sleep, much less take a tour of the countryside. “I’m eager to visit the wine country.”

“Sherdana takes pride in its wine as you well know.”

“As it should,” she murmured, her boredom coming through in her tone. “I’m glad you were able to get your business resolved so you could return to the party so quickly.”

“Business?” There wasn’t the least suggestion of understanding in his manner.

“I saw your private secretary approach you with some news. It seemed to be something unpleasant. And then you left. Christian explained it was old business you needed to take care of.”

“Ah, yes. Just a misunderstanding with Stewart. It was nothing.”

“I’m glad.” But her mind was busy cataloging all the nuances of his tone and expression. Her future husband was skilled at deflection.

“Would you care to dance?” he asked, his deep voice rumbling through her like distant thunder.

Not really. She was tired and her shoes pinched. But she smiled. “Of course.”

A waltz began to play as Gabriel took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. Keeping her expression pleasant and neutral was torture as his palm slid against her back. The gown she wore had a modest cut, showing no cleavage or bare shoulders, but the material was silk and the heat of Gabriel’s hand burned through the fabric and set her on fire.

“Are you feeling compelled to marry because your father wishes it?”

The abruptness of his question was so unexpected, she almost laughed. “Why would I need to be compelled by my father? You’re rich, handsome and going to be king one day. What girl wouldn’t wish to be queen?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not being forced to marry you. I have been given an opportunity many would envy.” She assessed his expression, curious where this line of questioning originated. “Are you worried that down the road I’ll regret my choice?” She cocked her head and regarded him intently. “Or are you looking for an excuse to break our engagement?”

“Nothing like that. I am just wondering if perhaps you’d have preferred a different life.”

“I’m sure many people wish every day that they’d done something different. Mostly, we must play the hand life deals us. For some, it’s struggling with poverty. For others raising a child on their own or dedicating themselves to their career and forgoing a family.” She pitched her voice into sympathetic tones for the next example. “For you it’s ensuring your kingdom’s economic security. I get to marry a prince and someday become a queen.”

For some inexplicable reason, he grew short with her. “But is that what you want?”

“To marry you and become a queen?” She let her surprise show. “Of course.”

Gabriel didn’t appear convinced. “We haven’t had much time to get to know each other,” he said. “I hope that will change over the next month.”

“Perhaps we could begin now. What is it you’d like to know?”

“Let’s begin simply. How do you come to speak French and Italian so fluently?”

“I had a whole army of tutors from the time I was small.”

“Your accent is quite good.”

“I’ve been told I have an aptitude for languages. I speak quite a few.”

“How many?”

“Six, but I understand three more.”

“That will come in handy when dignitaries visit us.”

Once again it hit her that she would never return to her home in England for anything more than a short visit. As princess, she would be expected to spend most, if not all, of her time in Sherdana. At least she would see her father frequently because he would want to keep an eye on his investment.

“You don’t smile much, do you?” His question was more reflective than directly aimed at her.

His observation caught her off guard.

“I smile all the time.”

Gabriel’s gaze slipped intently over her features, arousing a frantic thrumming in her chest. “Polite smiles. Political smiles, but I’m not sure I’ve once seen you smile because you’re happy.”

“I assure you, I’m quite happy.”

“Stop telling me what you think I want to hear. That’s not what Sherdana needs of its princess and definitely not what I expect from my wife.”

The intensity of his tone and the nuances of his observation did not belong to the man she’d known up to this point. His frank speech loosened her tongue.

“Are you giving me permission to argue with Your Highness?”

He made a face. “Gabriel.”

“Of course.”

“Olivia.” Tone commanding, he somehow managed to caress her name in a way that vibrated through her. “It would make me very happy if you would start thinking of me as a man and not a prince.”

His demand sent a ripple of excitement up her spine. She decided to speak her mind.

“I will if you stop thinking of me in terms of economic gain or financial dealings and realize I’m a woman who knows exactly what she wants.”

At her words, Gabriel blinked. Surprise quickly became curiosity as he regarded her. For the first time she believed he was seeing her as a person instead of the clause in the contract he needed to satisfy so her father would build a plant in Sherdana and create technical jobs to bolster the economy.

“I’m beginning to think there’s more to you than I realize,” Gabriel remarked, executing a turn in the dance that left her breathless.

“Thank goodness.” It was an effort to get out more than those two words.

Perhaps marriage might hold more of an adventure than she’d first thought. She hadn’t expected her husband to excite her. Even seeing how handsome Gabriel was, he was always so in control. She never imagined passion. And growing up sheltered from the experiences an ordinary girl would have with boys such as dating or even just hanging out, she’d never experienced desire. Until this moment, she wasn’t sure she could.

Relief made her giddy. Tonight she’d glimpsed a very important and unexpected benefit this marriage would have for her and for the first time in months, she faced her future with a light heart.

Two

Olivia lay on the blue velvet chaise in the bedroom she’d been assigned at the palace, a heating pad taking away the discomfort of cramps. She stared up at the touches of gold leaf on the ceiling’s ornate plasterwork twenty feet above her. From the tall, narrow mirrors between the wide cream silk-draped windows to the elegant chandeliers, it was a stunning, yet surprisingly warm, space.

It was a little after two in the morning. She’d felt the first twinge of pain not long after the king and queen left the gala and had taken the opportunity to slip away. The attack had been blessedly mild. A year ago, she would have taken a pain pill and retreated to bed. Thank goodness those days were behind her. A princess couldn’t avoid public appearances because she wasn’t feeling well. She must have a spine of steel and prove her value was more than the economic boost her father’s new technology company would provide.

As if to mock her optimism, a fresh ache began. She’d first started suffering with sharp cramps and strong periods when she was fifteen. Frightened by the amount of blood she lost each month, Olivia had gone to see a doctor. She’d been diagnosed with endometriosis and had begun taking oral contraceptives to reduce the pain and shorten her periods. Yoga, massage and acupuncture had also helped her cope with her symptoms, but none of these could correct the problem.

She’d needed surgery for that.

Olivia couldn’t explain why she’d been so reluctant to have the growths removed when the pain grew progressively worse in her early twenties. She couldn’t share her fears with her mother—who’d died giving birth to her—so she’d hidden the severity of the problem from everyone, including her father. Only Libby, her private secretary, knew how debilitating the pain could get. Libby had helped Olivia keep her doctor visits out of the press and made excuses when she had bad days. Olivia wasn’t sure what she’d have done these past eight years without Libby’s help.

It wasn’t until a year ago, when she’d confronted the connection between endometriosis and infertility, that she began to rethink her plans for coping with the disease. If she was marrying a wealthy businessman, a politician or even one of her own country’s nobles, she could discuss this issue with him and together they could decide what to do about her potential barrenness. But she was marrying the future king of Sherdana and would be expected to produce an heir.

So, she’d had the surgery and had been living pain free for almost twelve months.

With a sudden surge of impatience, Olivia set aside the heating pad and got to her feet. Brooding over her medical condition was the quickest way to doubt herself and that wasn’t the way she faced things. Despite the late hour, the luxurious king-size bed held no appeal. She needed some fresh air and exercise. Perhaps a walk in the garden.

Although she’d removed her ball gown upon returning to her room, she’d not yet dressed for bed. Slipping off her robe, Olivia pulled on a sleeveless jersey dress and found a pair of ballet flats that would allow her to move soundlessly through the sleeping palace.

The room she’d been given was in the opposite wing of the palace from the royal family’s apartments and used for housing dignitaries and visitors. Her father slept next door, his room as expansive and substantially furnished as hers. Olivia tiptoed past his door, aiming for the stairs at the far end of the hall that would deposit her close to the pink receiving room and the side gardens beyond. With her limited time in the palace, Olivia hadn’t had a great deal of time to explore, but she’d taken this route her second day to meet with the queen.

When she got to the end of the hallway, the high-pitched shriek of an unhappy child caught Olivia’s attention. The sound was muffled and it came from somewhere above her. She reached the stairs and paused to listen. She waited no more than a heartbeat before the cry came again, only this time there were two voices.

In an instant Olivia’s destination changed. Instead of going down to the ground level, she headed up to the third floor, following the increasingly frantic exclamations of the children and the no less agitated voice of an adult trying to quiet them.

At the top of the stairs, Olivia spied two shadows racing toward her down the darkened hallway. Curious as to what was going on, she’d taken several steps in their direction when a voice cut through the shadows.

“Karina. Bethany. Come back here this instant.” The shrill command provoked the children to faster flight.

Worried that at the speed they were going, they might pitch down the stairs, Olivia knelt and spread her arms wide. With their path blocked, the children stopped abruptly. With eyes wide, arms around each other for comfort, they stared at Olivia.

“Hello.” She offered them her gentlest smile. “Where are you two going so late?”

“You girls are nothing but trouble.”

The scolding woman hadn’t spied Olivia in the dimness or she wouldn’t have spoken so rudely. The two little girls shrank away from their pursuer, obviously afraid, and sidestepped in Olivia’s direction. Now that they were closer, Olivia could see them better. She blinked, wondering if she might be seeing double.

The two little girls, two frightened little girls, were mirror images of each other with long brown hair and large dark eyes in their pale faces. They were dressed in identical dresses and tears streaked their matching cheeks.

Olivia wanted to snatch them into her arms, but feared upsetting them still more. Although her childhood had lacked a loving mother, Olivia had developed a strong maternal instinct. Being warned by the doctor that unless she had surgery she might never have her own children had been a sharp knife in her heart.

“You’d better learn to behave and fast or the people who live here will kick you out and you’ll have nowhere else to go.”

Having heard enough, Olivia surged to her feet to confront the woman and was surprised when the girls raced to stand behind her. They gripped her dress with strength born of fear, and protectiveness surged through her.

“Stop speaking this instant,” Olivia commanded without raising her voice. “No one deserves to be threatened like that, especially not children.”

The nanny stopped dead in her tracks and sneered. “You don’t know what they’re like.”

“Whom do you work for?”

The woman looked wary. “I take care of these two.”

“Yes, yes.” Olivia put one hand on each of the toddlers’ heads. The hair was silky beneath her fingers and she longed to give the girls her full attention, but this woman must be dealt with first. “But who are their parents?”

“Their mother is dead.”

Olivia sucked in a short breath at the woman’s lack of compassion. “That’s awful.”

The woman didn’t respond.

“In heaven,” the child on her left said.

Olivia liked the girls’ nanny less and less. Had the woman no heart? Did the father know how badly his daughters were being cared for? “Perhaps I should speak to their father. What is his name?”

“A lawyer hired me a week ago to take care of them.” The woman stared at Olivia in hostile defensiveness.

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job.”

“They’re terribly spoiled and very difficult. And right now they need to be in bed.” Eyes on the children, the nanny shifted her weight forward and her arms left her sides as if she intended to snatch the little girls away from Olivia.

The little girl on her right shrank back. Her sister, emboldened by Olivia’s defense, fought back.

“Hate you.” She hung on Olivia’s skirt. “Wanna go home.”

Although she’d been too young to know the shock of losing her mother, Olivia remembered her lonely childhood and ached for the sadness yet to come for these girls. She wanted to wrap her arms around the toddlers and support them through this difficult time, but these were not her children and she shouldn’t get attached.

With a heavy sigh, Olivia knew it was time to extricate herself from the situation. She would summon a maid to get the girls settled and return to her room. In the morning she would find out to whom they belonged and fill him in on his employee.

“If I make this mean lady go away,” Olivia began, gazing down at the dark heads. “Would you go back to your room and go to sleep?”

“No.” Only one of the pair seemed to be verbal. The other merely gave her head a vehement shake. “Stay with you.”

Oh, dear. Obviously she’d defended the girls a little too well. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt for them to spend one night with her. There was plenty of room in her big bed and in the morning she could sort them out.

“Would you like to come to my room to sleep tonight?”

In unison, the two dark heads bobbed. Olivia smiled.

“You can’t do this,” the nanny protested.

“I most certainly can. I suggest you return to your room and pack. I will send someone to escort you out shortly.” Olivia extended a hand to each girl and drew the children toward the stairs. Once they were settled in her room, she would send a maid up for their nightgowns and things.

It took time to descend to the second floor. The toddlers’ short legs made slow work of the steps, giving Olivia time to wonder who in the palace would raise a cry that they’d gone missing. She looked forward to having a conversation with their father in the near future about the sort of person he’d employed to take care of his children.

When Olivia entered her room, she was surprised to find it occupied by a maid. The girl looked up in surprise from the desk items she was straightening as the trio entered. Although the palace had provided Olivia with maids to tidy up and assist with whatever she needed, she hadn’t expected to find one in her room during the middle of the night. And from the expression on the woman’s face, she wasn’t expecting to be caught at it.

“Lady Darcy, I was just tidying some things up for you.”

“At two in the morning?”

“I saw your light on and thought you might be needing something.”

Not wanting to make a huge scene in front of the little girls, Olivia scanned the maid’s face, confident she’d be able to recognize her again from the hundred or so servants that maintained the palace. She had a small scar just below her left eye.

“Could you run down to the kitchen and get glasses of warm milk for these two?”

“Hate milk,” the talkative one said. “Ice cream.”

Recalling the nanny’s assessment that the girls were spoiled, Olivia hesitated a moment before giving a mental shrug. Again she reminded herself they weren’t her responsibility. She could indulge them to her heart’s content. “With chocolate sauce?”