Table of Contents
Author’s Note
Penny
Robert
Playlist
About the Author
Also by Emilia Beaumont
Royal Daddy
Reigning Love Book Two
Emilia Beaumont
Contents
Author’s Note
1. Penny
2. Robert
3. Penny
4. Robert
5. Penny
6. Robert
7. Penny
8. Robert
9. Penny
10. Robert
11. Penny
12. Robert
13. Penny
14. Robert
15. Penny
16. Robert
17. Penny
18. Robert
19. Penny
20. Robert
Playlist
About the Author
Also by Emilia Beaumont
Copyright © 2018 by Emilia Beaumont
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
If you have received a copy or downloaded an illegal version of this book, please consider purchasing a legitimate copy so that I may continue to write stories for you. Thank you.
Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.
Please note that the book is written in British English, and while the story is set in England it is not based upon the current Monarchy. The book and its characters should therefore be considered as a work of fiction.
Royal Daddy is Book 2 in the Reigning Love series. It is not meant to be read as a standalone.
Royal Master (Book 1)
Royal Daddy (Book 2)
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One
Penny
“Did you hear the news?” Angel asked as we began to tuck in to a plate of her calorie-laden, but utterly delicious, fried chicken. Angel’s food was a heavenly treat in a place like this.
“What now? Please let it be something good!” I begged.
“Well, to be honest it could go either way in my experience, but we apparently have some British Army medics coming in to help us out. They’re gonna be here for about three months. No word on when they arrive yet though.”
“More staff? God, but that’s incredible!” I said. We desperately needed more trained personnel, and the military teams were super efficient and were used to working in such fast-moving, critical situations.
Plus they wouldn’t need any time to settle in; they’d be straight to work here at the medical camps in Chad. And though they worked hard, they also had a reputation for playing very hard too and were often great fun to have around. And to be fair, the place really did need to be livened up a bit. And what better than a whole new fresh intake of hunky army men? I thought with a secret smile. It would be something to look at if anything.
“Military boys can be useful, but they have a horrid tendency to think they should be in charge,” Angel said, pursing her lips. “And God forbid we get someone with a stick up his arse!”
I laughed. She didn’t like anyone who even thought about trying to challenge her place at the top of the pile—not that anyone did, at least not for long. Being given a piece of Angel’s mind was never a pleasant experience.
The tall, confident, curvaceous doctor I met straight off the plane hadn’t lost any time in letting me know that everything I thought I knew meant diddly-squat out here. As always, Angel was right. There wasn’t anything happening in the medical and refugee camps that she didn’t know about and though it had taken us a while to warm up to one another, I was proud to call her my friend now. Even if I had been forced to eat a hell of a lot of humble pie to reach that point.
“Angel, if there is a soul on the planet that you cannot put in their place, I will eat my white coat,” I teased. “But it sounds like you have history with someone back there?” I added perceptively.
“There’re no flies on you anymore, are there? You miss nothing!”
“Learned from the best,” I said and chuckled, waiting to hear more.
“Come on, dish, Angel. Who was he?” Amy asked, as curious as I was to hear of the man who had ruffled our unflappable senior medic. Amy was a nurse, one of the best and who had also become a close friend since I’d arrived. We were like “two peas in a pod” Angel liked to say.
Angel’s cheeks glowed and she tried to hide her smile.
“He was—is—Major Elliot Gray. Oh, what an arrogant but beautiful prick he was,” she said with a wry laugh. “He came in here, started ordering everybody about. Including yours truly! Move this here, that there, no don’t do it like that, it’s better if you do this. You know the type right? Efficient down to his brass tacks. Never wrong. Everything had to be done his way, to his specifications. Drove me mad!”
I held back a knowing smile and bit my tongue; I wasn’t going to say it, but it sounded like she had met the male equivalent of herself; no wonder they had rubbed one another up the wrong way.
“So what happened to him? Did you give him his marching orders?” Amy gnawed on a drumstick, her brown eyes fixed on Angel. She was so engrossed that she didn’t notice that half the meat had fallen off the bone and into her lap after the first bite. I stifled a giggle and turned back to listen to the rest of Angel’s tale.
“Pretty much.” Angel beamed, sitting up straighter. “I wasn’t going to let him mess up my way of doing things! I told him to shut up and do it my way, or get out. Then we only ended up engaged and swiftly married!”
“No!” Both Amy and I exclaimed with a gasp.
Angel nodded.
“Lasted six glorious weeks. But oh what a hot and heavy time that was! Sparks flew, I tell you!” She rolled her eyes, and jiggled her broad hips suggestively. I couldn’t hold back the laugher, nor could Amy. The release of tension and stress that had built up during our long work day helping those in the camps was so needed, and Angel soon began to giggle with us as we clutched our sides.
“He’s over the border now, runs one of the camps in Sudan. I miss him sometimes, but we near enough killed one another whilst we were together. A little too much passion you might say.”
“Sounds hot, to be honest,” Amy said quietly.
“Amy!” I squealed, and her cheeks flushed pink. She shrugged sheepishly and we all giggled again. “Well, let us pray that whoever the new CO is, he has a considerably better attitude, and is wise enough to see who rules the roost here. Bonus points too if he’s gorgeous!”
“Get out of my way,” I cried as I ran into the medical tent as fast as I could. The French Médecins Sans Frontières team barely scattered out of my way in time as I careened blindly through them, almost dropping the stack of blankets and rehydration packs that I’d stacked up way over my head. I dumped them onto the only unoccupied bed in the place and stood with my hands on the small of my back, trying to catch my breath.
“Sugar, you need to slow down a little,” Angel said seriously, then grinned as she waddled past me, grabbing a handful of supplies from the trolley as she went. I returned her smile, enjoying the sound of her voice even when she was stern with me. Coming from New Orleans, she had a lyrical way of speaking that m
ade everything sound romantic, even something as practical as this.
“I know you’re determined and all, but you’re no help to anyone if you collapse in a heap. It’s damned hot out here. If you keep up at that pace, you’ll be the one needing those packs! And we can’t afford to be a man down right now.” Her smile lit up her fleshy round face and it seemed to make her soft brown skin look almost luminous. “But, Penny, while you are bustling about there is a little boy over there that could really use a blanket and a big hug.”
I looked over at the child and his mother, and sighed. There were just too many children and way too few of us to care for them all—the promise of army help couldn’t come soon enough—but in the meantime I sent up a little prayer that I would be able to help this one.
I pinned a grin on my face and headed over to the boy and his mother, looking over my shoulder at Angel.
“I’d be happy to, as long as you tell me that more of your fried chicken is on the menu again tonight!”
My wise mentor, and fun-loving surrogate mom, waggled her eyebrows and went on her way. I knew we would be in for another treat tonight, and God would I need all those calories after the never-ending work that was ahead of me, as life in the refugee camps never stopped for anyone.
Angel was one of the best medics in the place, and I was learning so much from her, and not just about medicine. She was subtly imparting her wisdom, teaching me about life, and how fragile it was.
Obviously, coming to a place like this, you figure out that life is pretty damn precious rather quickly, but Angel makes you see the truth through a different light too; that it’s not all doom and gloom, and there is always hope edging around us, trying to get in. And thinking back, if it wasn’t for her and her stubborn encouragement, my life could’ve turned out very differently.
I grabbed a blanket and headed to the bed she had indicated. A boy of about five, skinny as a rail and clearly exhausted. He was almost as floppy as a rag doll. He was being held up by his equally tired mother.
“Hey there, my name is Penny. I’m a doctor and I’m going to check you out quickly,” I said as I tucked the blanket around him. He smiled at me weakly. “How far have you come?” I asked his Mom.
“We came from Sudan, from the Blue Nile,” the woman said in slow and stilted English.
“Have you been here long?”
“Long time. Three years, I think.”
I frowned; this poor little boy could probably barely remember life before the camp. He couldn’t have had much of a childhood stuck here. The camps were only meant to be temporary, they weren’t supposed to become permanent homes. It was so hard for these people and I had to protect my heart every time I thought of their plight.
Afraid for their lives, they had fled here to Chad, only to find that in so many ways, life in the refugee camps was worse than the places they had left. Disease was rampant—AIDS in particular seemed to be spreading like wildfire—and the poor children ran the risk of being forcibly recruited by both Chadian and Sudanese armed groups. Parents rarely let their children out of their sight, and I couldn’t blame them.
Even worse was that the long running conflict in Sudan and the fighting in Darfur seemed to just be vague memories to the rest of the world, as newer and supposedly more important troubles occurred. The bored news crews and reporters moved on, hunting for their next humanitarian piece that would make them out to be saviours… desperately hoping for a Pulitzer but caring not one jot about the actual lives that endured the terrible situations day in and day out. These people had been left, forgotten, and every day that made me mad as hell.
I wouldn’t forget, I thought stubbornly.
“Why did you bring him to us today?” I asked her gently.
A tear formed in her eyes, then rolled slowly down her cheek. “He has blood in…”
She clearly couldn’t think of the word she needed and I could see that was making her even more anxious. I pointed to his mouth and coughed, and she shook her head, so I indicated a squatting motion. She nodded. Oh, the poor mite.
“Has he had stomach pains too?” I asked her calmly as I cradled my belly.
She nodded and then pointed at a bottle of water that was by the side of the bed. I sighed, guessing exactly what she meant. I took my stethoscope and prayed that it wouldn’t be cholera or dysentery. We had seen too many cases recently of both, and we had neither the resources nor the medications we needed to keep it under control—it was a vicious, never ending cycle of cases.
I probed at his swollen tummy, and he winced. I quickly lifted him up. “Could someone help me here with a clean up?”
Sweet Amy, always happy to help me when I called, ran up with clean clothes and a new blanket. I quickly scooped up a sample pot from a side cabinet and took what I needed, and then put it in the box to be taken off and tested.
I prayed the results would come back with something benign, but we would have to treat him as if the worst were the case. There would be no point waiting, and no doubt, I thought, it would end up being the worst. Emergency medicine here meant working blind without the luxury of pathology results. Either way, whatever it turned out to be, we had to get some fluids into him, fast.
His lips were dry and cracked so I grabbed a couple of hydration packs and encouraged his mom to keep making him sip at the special fluid. I explained each step to her, eager to reassure her and told her not to worry if he vomited a little—he just needed to keep on drinking. She nodded, and though I wished I could stay with them a little bit longer to keep his mother company, to let her know that she wasn’t alone, there was an ever increasing long line outside that still needed our help.
I gave him a delicate hug, squeezed his mom’s arm, and then after taking a long, deep breath, I moved on to my next patient. This was my life. It wasn’t glamorous or pretty, but I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
Ten hours later and I was dead on my feet.
“Hey, sugar, come on. We’re done for the day. The night crew is taking over, let them…” Angel said as she started to hustle me out of the tent, and there was no use arguing. Even if I had the strength to continue on working, Angel would have had none of it.
I looked over at the beds, some with two or three children resting on them with sad faces, and anxious parents watching over them who’d been waiting for the best part of the day. If we didn’t get some help and soon—more medication, more staff, better facilities—then more and more of these children would die. The thought broke my heart and I tried to hold back a sob, but it escaped regardless.
“I know, baby,” Angel said, putting her arm round my waist. It was very comforting, but it didn’t change the reality of what we could be facing. “We can’t help them if we don’t look after ourselves.”
Amy came up behind us. “I think we’re going to have to notify the WHO that we have a cholera outbreak on our hands. Virtually every single child here has the same symptoms, and Wanda said it’s the same in the adult tents too,” she said joining us, matching our weary slow stride towards our own tented accommodation.
We nodded at her. Amy was a tiny little thing with a mop of dark brown corkscrew curls that never behaved, no matter what she tried to do to them. But even surrounded by all this misery, her eyes always seemed to sparkle with mischief and the children in particular all loved her, gravitating towards her sweet fun-loving spirit. Her energy and passion often reassured the parents too, and she had certainly shored up my flagging spirits on more than one occasion.
“I’ll wire them and get them to send more people here as soon as they can,” Angel replied, agreeing with Amy. “Actually I’ll do that now, while I’m still thinking straight. Amy, make sure this one doesn’t slip back in there. She needs her rest.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Amy nodded seriously and I let out a sigh. Amy slipped her arm through mine, tethering me to her, as if to prevent me from escaping and working through the night. Pleased, Angel waddled off to the command tent.
“
Sod the army, what we need is a seriously famous person to come here and see what’s going on. Then for them to release a huge hit single that gets the entire world to share a little bit of the wealth,” I said bitterly.
“Yeah, that would be nice. I know how frustrating it is, but we can only do the best we can, with what we actually have, hon,” Amy said calmly.
“It’s not enough; we need more.”
She had been out here a lot longer than I, had seen it all come and go. I admired how she managed to not let any of it get to her. I guessed I was still just a little too wet behind the ears, my own upbringing paling in comparison to hers.
Amy came from New York, the mean streets of Hell’s Kitchen, and an orphanage to boot. When I looked back at my extremely sheltered life and all the opportunities that had been open to me, even with the occasional bump in the road I’d had, I knew just how lucky I was now. I doubted I would ever take anything for granted again. There was so much we could do if we just had the resources, after all. But it was a pipe dream and I had to stop letting it get to me.
“They will probably all be worse off by the time we start again tomorrow. I know it isn’t our fault, but it makes me feel that it is all so pointless sometimes,” I admitted to her.
“We’ve all felt that way, Penny, but it doesn’t change anything. So when you’ve been here five years, or longer like Angel has, like I have, you just learn to get on with whatever each day brings and do the very best that you can.”
She was right of course. I looked at her young but tired, makeup-free face, and wondered what her life might have been like if she hadn’t, like me, made that first trip to help people less fortunate than herself. The camp was her life now, as it was Angel’s—and as I was pretty sure it was rapidly becoming mine, too.
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