Revelations Of A Secret Princess. Annie West

he’d said and how she’d responded. What she could have said better. What she could say to sway him on his return.

      If the other applicants were so much more experienced it was unlikely he’d entrust his precious niece to her. On the other hand, Ancillan wasn’t a common language. Its origins were ancient, with roots in classical Greek and even, the linguists thought, Phoenician, but influenced over the centuries by trade and conquest so it had traces of Italian, Arabic and even Viking borrowings. If she was the only applicant who could speak it she had a chance.

      The door banged open and Caro swung around. But it wasn’t Jake Maynard who entered, nor was it the door to his secretary’s office that stood open. It was a door on the other side of the room.

      In front of it, poised as if in mid-flight, was a small, dishevelled figure. Her frilly dress was rumpled and her plaits were half undone so her head was surrounded by a bright bronze nimbus of curls.

      Caro’s heart stopped.

      She breathed. She must have, for she didn’t black out. But she couldn’t move.

      Memory swamped her as the little girl turned a tear-stained face and drowned violet eyes met hers.

      Caro felt a trembling begin in the soles of her feet and work its way up her legs to her hands and belly. She swallowed then swallowed again, unable to moisten her suddenly arid mouth.

      She’d struggled, hoped and prayed for this moment. But nothing had prepared her for the raw shock of reality.

      Those eyes. That hair.

      She was thrown back in time to her own childhood. To the only person in the world who’d ever loved her. To gentle hands, tender words and a thick mass of curls of the same distinctive burnished bronze.

      ‘Where’s Uncle Jake?’

      The little girl’s words dragged Caro back to the present. She tried to smile but her mouth trembled too much. Her knees gave way and she sank onto the padded window seat, her hand pressed to her middle as if to still the tumult inside.

      ‘He’ll be back in a minute.’ Her voice was barely audible, rough with emotion.

      The girl’s eyes widened. ‘You speak like me!’

      Caro hadn’t realised she’d spoken Ancillan.

      Then the girl she’d come all this way to find, the girl she hadn’t known about till a few weeks ago, slowly crossed the room towards her.

      Caro went hot then cold as relief, disbelief and wonder hit. She was torn between the urge to grin and the need to sob.

      Or to gather Ariane close and never let her go.

       CHAPTER TWO

      OBLIVIOUS TO HER distress, Ariane stopped before her and held up a teddy bear that looked worn and well loved.

      ‘Maxim’s arm came off.’ Her bottom lip trembled as she held up the separated limb. ‘Can you fix him?’

      It took Caro a moment to follow her words. She was so busy taking in the heart-shaped face, wide eyes and smattering of tiny freckles across that little nose.

      Despite all the evidence Caro had told herself it was possible there’d been a mistake. Things like this—long-lost relatives and scandalous secrets—didn’t happen in the real world.

      But face to face with Ariane, doubt disintegrated. Those eyes, that hair, even the shy, questioning tilt of the head, were unmistakeable. Was it possible for a child to inherit a gesture, a way of holding themselves, if they’d never spent time with their birth family?

      The impossible was real. Real and here before her.

      Searing emotion smacked Caro in the chest. She gulped a noisy breath, unable to fill straining lungs. Her eyes filled—her first tears in years.

      Instantly the little girl backed away.

      That was possibly the only thing that could have helped Caro get a grip, the sight of Ariane retreating.

      From somewhere Caro conjured a wobbly smile.

      ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’ She lifted a hand to her eye, blinking back the unshed tears. ‘I think I had something in my eye. Now, tell me about your bear. He’s called Maxim?’

      Ariane nodded but kept her distance.

      ‘That’s a fine name.’ Caro resisted the urge to move closer. She’d already upset the poor kid with her tears. It would do no good to rush this, though instinct urged her to wrap her arms around the child and hold her tight. ‘Did you know there was once a king called Maxim? He was very brave. He fought off the pirates who tried to invade St Ancilla.’

      Ariane took a step nearer. ‘That’s where I come from.’ She tilted her head. ‘Are you from there too?’

      ‘I am.’ Caro let her smile widen. She’d never allowed herself to imagine having this conversation, as if it might tempt fate into obliterating all her hopes.

      This was a bittersweet moment. Sweet because after all the grief and years of emptiness, Caro had found the girl she hadn’t known about. Bitter because of those wasted years.

      But there was no time for dwelling on past wrongs. Suddenly Caro had never felt more alive, more brimming with excitement.

      ‘What happened to Maxim? Was he in a battle with pirates too?’

      Ariane smiled and Caro felt it like a dart of sunshine piercing her heart. ‘No, silly. There aren’t really pirates.’

      ‘Aren’t there?’ Caro stared at the bright face with the dimpling cheeks and felt her insides melt.

      Ariane shook her head. ‘No. Uncle Jake said so.’

      ‘Ah, I see.’

      ‘So don’t be scared if you dream about them. They’re not real.’

      ‘That’s good to know. Thank you.’

      Did that mean Ariane often had nightmares? Again Caro resisted the impulse to gather her close.

      Ariane tilted her head, clearly curious. ‘Who are you? You look...’ her forehead scrunched in concentration ‘...like someone I know.’

      Caro’s heart thudded high in her throat. ‘Do I? Who do I look like?’

      She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’

      Caro drew in a slow breath, reminding herself Ariane was a little girl. She imagined Caro was familiar, possibly because they were from the same place. Maybe speaking Ancillan made her seem familiar. There was no more to it. Anything else was impossible, even if Caro felt the connection between them as a tangible bond.

      ‘What happened to Maxim if he wasn’t fighting pirates?’

      Ariane pouted. ‘I don’t know. I woke up and he was like this.’

      Caro eyed the bear, with its fur rubbed off on one side where he’d clearly been cuddled a lot. She’d guess Ariane usually held him by that arm and the stitching had given way after much use.

      ‘That’s easily fixed.’

      ‘It is?’

      ‘Of course. All we need is a needle and thread to sew him back together.’

      Ariane stepped closer and held out the brown bear and his separated arm. ‘Can you fix him now? Please?’

      Those huge eyes in that grave little face would make any heart melt. As for Caro, it took everything she had to keep things light.

      ‘I don’t have any thread with me but we can patch him up till we get some.’

      ‘Patch him?’

      ‘Yes.