Mills and Boon Christmas Joy Collection. Liz Fielding

Pure and utter silence.

      No one was talking. No one was murmuring. All she could hear was her and Alex breathing. Every tiny hair on her arms stood on end. It was as if someone were walking over her grave.

      ‘Alex?’

      He looked up and his hands dropped from her waist. There was an elderly couple standing in the doorway. Immaculately regal. Both were staring at Alex.

      It took her a few seconds. She’d never met or seen pictures of Sophia’s parents. But for a reaction like this it had to be them.

      She glanced nervously at Alex. How much had they seen? Had they seen him kiss her, or just hold her?

      Those few seconds whilst he gathered himself seemed to stretch into hours. She saw everything. The fleeting moment of panic followed by the worry of what to do next.

      Her heart plummeted. He’d been carried away. He hadn’t thought of the consequences of kissing her in front of everyone. This was a disaster.

      Every eye in the room flicked between them and Sophia’s parents.

      She heard Alex suck in a deep breath, then his hand moved over and took hers.

      The feeling of skin against skin was unexpected. Her gaze fixed on their hands as he intertwined their fingers. He moved forward in long strides and she struggled to keep up, having to gather her dress in her hand to stop it from tangling around her feet again.

      He gave a courteous bow to the King and Queen. ‘Ruby Wetherspoon, I’d like you to meet Annabelle’s grandparents—King Henry and Queen Isabelle of Leruna.’

      Her brain was racing. What on earth would they think of her?

      There were a few expanding seconds of silence. Then their immaculate breeding kicked into place.

      The King gave a nod of his head, ‘Ms Wetherspoon.’

      The Queen took a little longer. But her wide-eyed look had disappeared. Ruby could almost tell that to this woman composure was everything.

      She held out a hand towards her. Ruby felt a second of panic—was she supposed to shake it or kiss it?

      Alex made the tiniest movement and she reached out and shook the Queen’s hand. Something from fairytales long ago made her curtsy. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Queen Isabelle.’

      As she stood up it was clear the Queen was regarding her carefully. Her heart was fluttering madly in her chest. If she didn’t calm down soon she’d end up in a crumpled heap on the floor. She felt as if the whole room was watching her. Anything she did right now would be crucial. Her actions and demeanour would temper what everyone in the room thought of her.

      It was as if a lightbulb had gone off in her head. All of a sudden she realised just how much of a chance Alex had taken on her.

      She sucked in a breath. She was worthy. She was worthy of his faith in her. She just had to show it.

      She was still holding the Queen’s hand, and Isabelle’s eyes were starting to smart with disapproval.

      Despite her glittering tiara and her sumptuous silver gown, Ruby knew a clear way to connect with this woman. In her job she’d managed to charm the most difficult family members over the last ten years, and she could do it again now.

      ‘It’s been a pleasure to work with Annabelle these last few months. She’s such a wonderful little girl and she’s making real progress.’

      Isabelle looked a little startled at the familiarity. People probably didn’t speak to her like this. But as soon as Annabelle’s name was mentioned it was clear she was interested.

      ‘You’re the speech therapist.’ There was just the slightest hint of distaste—as if she were trying to put Ruby in her place.

      ‘She’s my friend.’ Alex’s words were quiet, but firm. Shooting a crystal-clear message across the tension-laden air. It was like a subtle counter-attack.

      But this woman with decades of experience didn’t even blink. Her eyebrows rose a little. ‘Progress? Is she starting to talk?’

      She was clearly surprised.

      Ruby nodded and moved closer to her, away from the prying ears that were straining all around the room to hear their conversation.

      Alex shot her a look that was a cross between pure relief and pleading, and with an almost imperceptible nod engaged the King in conversation, leading him over towards a drinks tray.

      Ruby held out her hand to let the Queen lead the direction of their steps, and was unsurprised to find her leading them towards the entrance to another room filled with antique mahogany chairs. The door was closed quickly behind them by one of the palace attendants.

      The Queen settled herself in one of the chairs and arranged her skirts around her before gesturing to Ruby to sit down too.

      ‘Tell me about Annabelle.’

      Ruby smiled. ‘I’ve seen definite progress in the last few months. It’s slow. But steady. I don’t dispute the diagnosis of selective mutism. But do you know that in some cases children will speak in some circumstances but not others?’

      The Queen gave the smallest of nods, so Ruby continued. ‘Annabelle was silent when I got here. Over the last weeks and month we’ve noticed noises.’

      ‘Noises?’

      ‘Yes. Gasps of excitement. Whoops of pleasure. Whimpers when we’re watching scary movies.’

      ‘My granddaughter whoops?’ There was an amused edge to her voice.

      ‘Yes, she does. But that’s not all—she often hums along to some of the songs in her favourite films. She seems to do it quite unconsciously—usually when she’s most relaxed or when she’s tired.’

      ‘And she’s that way around you?’ The timbre of the Queen’s voice had changed slightly.

      ‘It’s taken her a while to get to know me,’ said Ruby quickly. ‘But she’s been spending more time with her father.’

      Part of her wondered if she should be saying this. She didn’t want to make it sound as if Alex had neglected Annabelle in any way at all.

      ‘We’ve made sure that all the palace staff knows that his time with Annabelle is to be uninterrupted. It’s time they spend alone—together.’

      She was starting to get nervous and her mouth was running away from her. She wanted to be clear that she wasn’t trying to push herself between Alex and his daughter. The last thing she wanted was for the Queen to think she was trying to take Sophia’s place.

      ‘And is this working?’ There was a tone of slight disbelief. As if she didn’t quite understand the significance.

      ‘It’s definitely working. Annabelle is changing. Her confidence has increased in leaps and bounds. She’s a different little girl than the one I met when I arrived.’

      For the smallest of seconds—almost instinctively—the Queen’s eyes narrowed. She straightened herself in her chair, pulling herself up to her full height. ‘Why do you think my granddaughter doesn’t talk, Ms Wetherspoon?’

      There was a whole host of things she could say here. But experience had taught her to go with her instinct.

      ‘I think she misses her mother,’ she said simply.

      There was the tiniest sound. A little gasp from the Queen. Then the woman’s eyes clouded, as if they were fogged by impending tears.

      It was the clearest and most confident Ruby had felt all evening. Isabelle might be a distinguished queen—something that was way out of Ruby’s realm of expertise—but she was also a concerned grandmother—something Ruby could understand.

      Ruby leaned over and squeezed her hand, and then changed position, gathering her dress and kneeling in