Royal Daddy

by Emilia Beaumont

  “I should’ve come back earlier. As soon as I had my suspicions… oh God, Mom, what have I done? This is all my fault… I’m being punished… The abortion. This is what I get for…”

  “Shh, now, it’s not your fault.”

  “Please take it back,” I whimpered to no one in particular, “Please, I’ll do anything. I want my baby. Please!”

  Tears streamed down my mother’s face then she wrapped me into her arms. “Oh, darling, if I could fix this you know I would.”

  We cried together and I hung on tight to her, clutching at her fiercely as my chest heaved.

  In so many ways it seemed like it was for the best, but that didn’t stop the longing or the constant anguish my heart suffered. I felt like I had lost Robert all over again. I knew it was a selfish reason, but I thought, at least having his baby I could have always had a little bit of him with me.

  We’d been in the hospital for what seemed like hours and Mom was still holding onto me, she was trying to compose herself. I squeezed back and tried to pin a brave expression onto my face once the initial shock had subsided.

  “I’ll be okay,” I said to her, sniffing. But we both knew I wouldn’t be. Mom and I sat in silence, neither of us knew what to say, or what we should do next.

  But as I lay there, I couldn’t help feeling like I was cursed. My tiny bit of him, my memento to keep the magical moments we had shared back in Chad was now gone and I would be alone again, would have to watch along with the rest of the world as he married someone else and lived his life in the public eye. I just prayed I would never have to see him again in the flesh—it would be bad enough with all the press flaunting countless photographs of his upcoming wedding. How would I ever be able to face him knowing what I had lost?

  They kept me in the hospital for a few days for observation due to my recent trips abroad, but I was itching to be up and about, doing something again, to at least try to move on and close this chapter of my life.

  I couldn’t bear the thought of returning to Chad, not after the loss of my baby, where every place I would go would be full of memories of him and I together and the little miracle we had made… Working, laughing, and making love. It would be too much to expect, that I could go about my work and not see the child I had lost in every one of the faces I had to treat.

  No, it was time to stay home, and make a new life for myself. But that didn’t mean I knew what on earth to do here. I still had to figure that part out.

  Sixteen

  Robert

  “Last event, sir,” Gavin said to me as he brushed down the shoulders of my dinner jacket. I had to admit I was going to be glad to get everything over and done with. It was just as well I hadn’t put myself forward for the consultancy position—my father, as well as William, had kept me busier than I had ever imagined. I simply didn’t have time to get to every event, and be a top flight cardio-thoracic specialist. I was cutting it close on being an adequate registrar!

  But the events I was in New York for was for Medica—the charity that Angel, Amy, and my lovely Penny had been working so tirelessly for. So, when Mother, a patron of the charity, asked me to accompany her on this trip, along with Charlotte who couldn’t resist the allure of New York’s cutting edge fashion scene, for once I hadn’t been so reluctant.

  It was a good excuse to spend some time with them both, away from the confines of England where each day was regimented and planned out down to the second.

  Somehow abroad, even with the gruelling schedule, we were able to let our guard down a smidgen. Mother was able to relax a little too, as well as be distracted; taking her mind of the year’s earlier events by actually doing something instead of rattling around the palace day in and day out.

  Most of the meetings had been pretty tiresome, endless lunches with the charity’s biggest donors, who all made out that they cared so much about the crisis, yet barely knew where the camps were located.

  However, the evening promised to be a little more fun, a grand masked ball where I would—for once—get to indulge in anonymity again. At least for a few hours.

  Gavin handed me my mask, I slipped it on happy with how it disguised my features. I walked to the lift that had one appropriately attired Secret Service agent as well my own personal guard waiting for me.

  “Ready, sir?” one asked me politely. I nodded.

  “Let’s go and make them some money!” I said happily.

  The doors slid effortlessly open on the first floor, revealing an elegantly decorated ballroom. It was festooned with flowers, and people with exquisite masks were huddled in little clumps, gossiping, whilst others were already dancing. I scanned the room quickly, my military eye a little rusty but still better than most. I couldn’t pick out my mother, though I knew she had already come down with her own entourage. Charlotte would no doubt be fashionably late.

  I had a feeling my mother would be amongst the dancers, she loved to be twirled around the floor. Like me, she enjoyed a masked ball for its relative anonymity, as it meant her partners were unaware who they held in their arms, and so they relaxed and she could really have fun. Though there had been the rare occasion, mostly when I was younger, where she’d go without a mask, and surprise the guests with her informality. Her way of rebelling sporadically, I guessed.

  I walked stealthily through the crowds, not stopping to chat and be polite, while my security detail spooled off to the sides of the ballroom.

  The disguise meant that for once, I didn’t have to be diplomatic or try and make sure I always said the right thing. I headed to the bar and ordered a vodka martini. It was crisp and refreshing. A young woman, in a stunning violet dress rushed up beside me.

  “Two glasses of champagne, one large brandy and a bottle of water, and it had better be quick!” She turned to me, and explained breathlessly why she was in such a hurry. “I think my Uncle Pete has just been dancing with Her Royal Majesty, and he’s gone all faint!”

  “So let me guess, the champagne is for you and Her Royal Majesty, the brandy and water for your uncle?” I asked with a grin.

  Mother had struck again! The lady nodded, claimed the drinks, then hurried off to try and save her uncle’s mortification. I wandered slowly behind her in her wake.

  “Mother, you really should be kinder to these poor old fellows,” I chided her very quietly.

  “Nonsense, we had a lovely dance. Peter here is as wonderful at the foxtrot as your dear father was as a lad. Such a shame he has no patience for dances anymore.”

  “That and his sore knees,” I said pointedly. Years of ignoring his physicians advice, including my own, had made my father’s range of motion in his legs go from bad to worse. He put a brave face on it of course, but there were days when he was crotchety and cantankerous—and often in a lot of pain.

  “Too true, now have you found someone lovely to dance with? What about young Marian here?” she nodded to the niece who was still encouraging Uncle Pete to take a sip of the brandy, as he stared blankly, his mouth wide open, at my mother.

  “I think Marian has her hands full. Now, let us go away from here, so these poor star struck people can breathe again.”

  I herded her onto the dance floor myself, and we took up a spirited quickstep. My mother could have been a Hollywood song and dance lady, like Ginger Rogers or Vera Ellen if she hadn’t been born into her job. Graceful, lithe, and supple, she floated on air. She made me look positively pedestrian as I led her round the floor. Though that didn’t stop her from enrolling us kids into torturous dance classes from an early age. It had been several years since my last one, but it was like riding a bike once you got going again. Mother didn’t miss a beat, but looked up questioningly when my foot faltered a time or two.

  “Are you sure you are quite all right, Robert darling?” she asked me seriously, not even slightly out of breath.

  “Of course, just hard to keep up with you, Maybe you should lead,” I said with a smile, not quite so serenely, feeling a little bemused and off-guard
by the question.

  “I didn’t mean that. I meant all of this,” she shrugged her shoulders and spread her arms a little as if indicating the entire world. “You have always been my little planner, who knew your destination and goals before we even did. But now, you remind me more of William and his old wandering unpredictable ways. I don’t know, you just haven’t seemed quite yourself since you got back from Chad.”

  “It’s an adjustment—”

  “Well, after Frederick of course it will be.” She steeled herself as if wanting to say more but unable.

  “I won’t lie, it’s been hard. I’m not fond of all this—never have been. Frederick was the man for all that, a natural. But Father says jump and so I do. The problem is he is saying it so often now that I really may lose my position at Bart’s. I didn’t think I would have to take on so many of William’s duties too.”

  “Yes, that is unfortunate. But you know why. He’s taken on his fair share now that your father is taking a small step back.”

  “Of course, I know. It’s just they need me there, yet I’m always haring off wherever he tells me I must go.” I tried hard not to let the bitterness show in my voice, but mother knew me all too well.

  “Would you like me to talk to him? I know he doesn’t tend to listen to anyone but your grandfather, but maybe I could even have a word with him?”

  “No, I have scheduled an audience with him, alone, upon my return. I’m going to be a man, tell him exactly how I feel and what I want. Charlotte is given enough leeway, as well as Victoria, and William—don’t get my started on my brother—has been given allowances I never thought possible. Proposing to Sophie and still permitted to jump out of blasted planes, yet I’m not allowed to be a surgeon.”

  “Come now. If I didn’t know better I would think you were jealous of your siblings. Or that this is merely a smokescreen for something else that is worrying that head of yours.”

  I almost stopped mid-step which would’ve caused a bit of a scene but managed to not trip over myself and lead Mother towards the outer corner of the dance floor.

  “It’s not jealously,” I replied, thinking it wise to stick to the topic I was brave enough to discuss. “Well, maybe it is. Father just has a way of making me feel like he’s holding me to a higher standard than the rest. Especially now that Frederick is gone.”

  “I suppose he does have the tendency to do that. He saw how he failed William growing up, gave him too much leeway, and look how that almost turned out. It could’ve been so much worse had Sophie not been able to corral his wildness. Your father was hard on you because he felt guilty; he wanted to do better the next time around so that you in turn would be a success.”

  “Or maybe he just doesn’t like me and wants to punish me for choosing the army over the Royal Navy,” I teased. I knew this wasn’t the case. Our family, for all its faults, still cared for each other.

  “Nonsense. Clearly he is testing your resolve,” Mother said nodding sagely.

  “It’s been years, Mother. How much longer must I prove to him that being a surgeon is my lifelong dream? Now, I am going to pass you over to someone else before I become another of your casualties, like poor Uncle Pete over there.”

  I gave her a quick squeeze, and gave her hand to the smart looking, white haired gentleman who had tapped me on my shoulder to ask my permission to cut in. I had a feeling that underneath his mask, we would find Malcolm Lindbergh, the founder of Medica.

  Malcolm Lindbergh was a surgeon himself, and the more I learned about him, the more I wanted my life to reflect his. He was an absolute hero, and here he was at eighty-two, still giving himself to help others. That, to me, was a life worth living.

  I walked back towards the bar and had to stop and blink as I saw a slender back, whose curves were imprinted on my soul, swaying through the crowds ahead of me, out onto the veranda.

  It couldn’t possibly be her, could it?

  What on earth was she doing here in New York? I would have expected her to be back in Chad by now. As I drew closer I could smell the soft, womanly scent of her; a simple unadorned fragrance that was shampoo and soap and exquisitely simple. I wanted to rush at her, to take her in my arms and never let her go this time. But I followed her, keeping my distance, watching as she retreated into the peace of the gardens.

  “You can come out of the shadows,” Penny said, turning her head and looking over her bare shoulder. Her gown was a dusky pink, a simple silk sheath that encased her figure perfectly. I moved towards her, feeling my heart pound with anticipation. “I won’t bite,” she added wearily.

  As I got closer, I could see that she was pale, and her eyes behind their mask seemed to have lost some of their sparkle, her unique zest for life, but it was still her. The love of my life. The woman I wanted to marry and have kids with. There was no doubt in my mind. I would know her anywhere, in any disguise.

  “You’re not as stealthy as you think you are, Robert. I knew I would be seeing you at some point tonight.” Her voice was resigned, but I could see that her body was tense. “But though I tried to convince the trustees that I was not the woman for this particular event, they insisted.”

  “God, Penny, it’s so good to see you.”

  She remained distant; quiet.

  “So, you’re working here in New York for the charity then?” I asked stupidly. “I thought you would be back in Chad by now.”

  “Things change. People change.” Penny sighed and turned to properly look at me, a softness creeping back into her beautiful features, and I was glad. I wasn’t fond of the stony-cold Penny that looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but here, standing in front of me. “I was, but I had to return. It’s a long story. I won’t bore you. But what do you want, Robert?”

  “You knew it was me then?” I tried to keep my voice light, but I could feel the months of emotion, the loneliness of my life without her threatening to engulf me. “Damn, this mask.”

  “Yes, I knew it was you, Your Royal Highness. Nobody on earth walks with quite your confident gait. I suppose it must be all those years of knowing you truly are at the top of the tree. And, the cut of that suit is too perfect for you to be an American, anyway. We just don’t have anything to compete with Saville Row after all.”

  She dipped me a desultory curtsey, and those eyes I had thought had lost their sparkle now gleamed with anger.

  “So, you know,” I said like an idiot, everything was coming out wrong. Her frostiness and hostility were making me nervous, chilling me to the bone. I didn’t know how to change the facts, or how to make things right. I just knew I wanted to desperately.

  “Yes, I know. Why the hell didn’t you tell me? Surely you had to know I might find out at some point?” she spat at me. “I had to read about it, about you… you and about your beloved Eugenie in a bloody magazine, Robert! How on earth do you think that made me feel?”

  Oh God, she’d seen that stupid picture in the gossip rags—no wonder she was so damn angry at me. I’d always hoped that I could fudge it around the fact that I was lower down the totem pole, only playing an insignificant part in the royal family. My place in the world didn’t particularly make me anyone that special after all. At least not to me. I considered myself a doctor, an ex-military man first, above being a royal. But, in an odd way her outrage about Eugenie made my heart sing. She was jealous, that meant she still cared, and that meant I still had hope, however small it may be.

  “You knew I didn’t want a meaningless fling but by not telling me you made it ten times worse. You made me feel inconsequential, our time trivial!”

  “Shit, Penny! You have every right to be angry. But you have to understand there were reasons, protocols in place, so that I couldn’t tell everyone in Chad. I’m ashamed to say I tried to tell you, but I was a coward… my stupid sense of duty came before being honest with you, and I will forever regret that decision till my dying breath.”

  Penny didn’t give me a chance to finish, to tell her that Eugenie was and onl
y ever had been a friend. She clearly just wanted to get as far away from me as possible. I didn’t blame her. For all my intelligence, I have always been a bit of an idiot. It seemed that yet again my recklessness had blown apart the most special thing that had ever happened to me before it even got started.

  “I know, Mark told us about the safety concerns around you, but Robert I wasn’t just everyone, was I? Unless I actually was. Unless I was just a quick shag.” She was clutching her arms around her tiny frame; cold and hurt and I hated that I was responsible for causing her that pain. I moved towards her, but she stepped away.

  “Here, at least take my jacket, you are covered with goose bumps, Penny,” I encouraged her as I took off my jacket and proffered it to her; a tiny peace offering, that I was sure she would resist.

  We stood there for what seemed like an age, the coat dangling between us like a flag of surrender, but finally she took it. Her tiny little hand looked ghostly white against the black fabric.

  “I am so sorry. I never knew we would end up where we did and once we had, how could I have told you then?”

  “I don’t know,” she said as she leaned against the marble balustrade. “I just don’t know.” I could see her chest heaving slightly, and knew she was crying. I moved to her and took her into my arms.

  “Penny, please, don’t cry over me, I’m not worth it.” I crooned as I soothed her back, and caressed her shoulders. I was amazed at how skinny she had become; she was a delicate bird, I could feel her bones as I held her close. “Penny, whatever has happened to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “Penny, it does matter. I want to know. You mean the world to me and if anything were to happen to you…” I trailed off unable to finish my thoughts.

  “I was sick when I went back to Chad,” she whispered. “I’m just trying to get over it, is all,” she continued dismissively, as if she didn’t want to dwell upon it, as if she didn’t want me to know about it.