Royal Babies. Cat Schield

wedlock would have no impact on Amil’s life; it was not a reason to get married.

      She forced herself to concentrate on Frederick’s answer to her question.

      ‘It makes no odds as long as we legitimise him through marriage,’ he said. ‘Lycander’s rules are complex, but clear on that front.’

      Oh, Lord. What was she supposed to do? How could she make a decision like this without the use of a crystal ball? Her mother had believed the right course of action had been to hand Sunita over to her father.

      ‘People can change, Suni,’ her mother had said. She’d stroked Sunita’s hair with a hand that had looked almost translucent, the effort of even that movement an evident strain. ‘I have to believe that.’

      Sunita understood the uncharacteristic thread of sentimentality in her mother over those final weeks. Leela Baswani had wanted to die believing her daughter would be safe and happy, and so she had allowed herself to be conned again by the man who had already broken her heart. She’d allowed herself to believe that people could change.

      Well, she’d been wrong. And so was this.

      ‘This is impossible, Frederick. We can’t spend the rest of our lives together.’

      The very idea of spending a week with anyone made her skin prickle in affront—she could almost feel the manacles closing round her wrists. ‘Maybe we should get married, legitimise Amil, and then get a divorce.’

      Even as the words left her lips she knew how stupid they were.

      ‘No. I want to give Amil a life with both his parents, and most importantly, if he is to rule Lycander, he needs to live in the palace, be brought up to understand his inheritance. And I need a wife—a true consort.’

      This was becoming laughable. ‘Really, I am not wife material—trust me on this.’

      His broad shoulders lifted. ‘But you are the mother of my child.’

      Fabulous. ‘So you’ll make do with me because I come with a ready-made heir? And this whole marriage idea is because we are convenient?’ The idea caused welcome anger—an emotion she could manage way better than panic.

      ‘You don’t care about Amil as a person—you only care about him as a commodity.’

      ‘No!’ Her words had clearly touched a nerve. ‘I care about Amil because he is my son and I believe this is his right. I want him to grow up with two parents. And, believe me, this is hardly convenient. I intended to present my people with a wife and heir in a more conventional way.’

      ‘Well, gee, thank you. That makes us feel really special.’

      But she was the woman who had omitted to mention his son’s existence—making her feel special would hardly be anywhere on his agenda.

      His raised eyebrows indicated complete accord with her unspoken thought. ‘There’s no point in hypocrisy. If you expect me to go down on one knee, think again.’

      ‘I don’t expect anything—especially not a proposal. I don’t want to marry you; I don’t want to marry anyone.’

      ‘I appreciate that. Until recently marriage has never exactly been high on my to-do list either. Back in the day I had a business to run and a party lifestyle to maintain. But circumstances have changed. For us both. We have Amil. I now have a country to run. I need a wife and I need an heir...to show the people of Lycander that I have changed. That I am responsible, that I offer stability, that I can put the principality’s needs above my own.’

      Sunita tried to equate this Frederick with the man she had known. ‘Have you changed?’

      ‘Yes.’ The syllable was bleak in its certainty, but despite its brevity it conveyed absolute conviction. ‘You can choose to believe that or not, as you wish. But believe this: I need to get married.’

      ‘Well, I don’t. I prefer to be on my own.’ She didn’t want to be tied to anyone—she wanted to be independent and free to make decisions for herself and for Amil. ‘Free.’ In control.

      ‘I understand that.’ His jaw set in a hard line. ‘But marriage is the only way to secure Amil his birthright and give him two parents one hundred per cent of the time.’

      There was a strange undercurrent to his voice, and she realised just how important this must be to him. According to her research, his parents had split when he was three and his father had won sole custody. After that he’d had a series of stepmothers, none of whom had lasted more than a few years. So perhaps it was little wonder he wanted to give his son the kind of stable family he’d never had. For a moment, compassion for the little boy he had once been touched her and she forced herself to concentrate on the present.

      ‘But it wouldn’t be good for Amil to grow up and see his parents in an unhappy marriage.’

      ‘Why assume it will be unhappy?’

      ‘Because...’ To her own annoyance, not a single reason sprang to mind that didn’t sound stupid. Eventually she said, ‘You can’t expect me to sign up to a life sentence with a man I don’t even know.’

      ‘Fair enough. Then let’s rectify that.’

      He smiled—a smile of the toe-curling variety, like sunshine breaking through a grey cloudbank. And she couldn’t help smiling back. But then the moment was gone and the stormy skies reappeared.

      ‘Rectify it how?’

      ‘Let’s get to know each other. Bring Amil to Lycander and—’

      ‘No! Once we are in Lycander I have no idea if we will be subject to Lycander law. Which, as far as I can gather, is you.’

      The smile was a distant memory now, his face set in granite. ‘You don’t trust me?’

      ‘I don’t trust anyone.’ After all, if you couldn’t trust your own father, who could you trust? His promise to her mother that he would look after Sunita, care for her as only a parent could, had turned out to be a bunch of empty, meaningless syllables.

      ‘So we stay here.’

      He raised his hands. ‘Fair enough. But I can’t be away for too long. I can stay in Mumbai for a few days or... Wait, I have a better idea.’ The smile made a return. ‘How about we go away for a few days? You and me. Away from the press and the politics and the spotlight.’

      ‘You and me?’ Panic and horror cartwheeled in her stomach.

      ‘Yes. You and me. I’ll put my money where my mouth is—you said you couldn’t marry someone you didn’t know, so here’s the opportunity to spend time with me. Twenty-four-seven, with no distractions.’

      ‘Be still my beating heart.’

      Now his smile broadened and this time she was sure her hair curled.

      ‘I knew you’d like the idea. Would your grandmother be happy to look after Amil?’

      ‘If I agree to this, Amil comes with us.’ A frown touched her brow and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Surely you want to get to know your son?’

      ‘Of course I do. But before we spend time together as a family, we need to know where we stand. I know he is only a baby, but I want him to have certainty and stability.’

      The kind of certainty she guessed he’d never known. Again for an instant she wanted to reach out and offer comfort. What to do? What to do? In truth she didn’t know. She should close this down now—but was that the right thing for Amil?

      Frederick wanted to be a real part of his life, wanted to make him his heir. She couldn’t in all conscience dismiss it out of hand. More than that, insane though it might be, there was a tiny part of her that didn’t want to. That same tiny part that two years ago had wanted Frederick to ask her to stay, to sweep her into his arms and—

      Cue mental eye-roll and a reality check. Fairy tales didn’t exist.