Her Royal Baby

CHAPTER ELEVEN

IT WAS the longest month of his life.

For the first week Marc stayed at Renouys. He hired a nanny who lasted for two whole days-just long enough for Marc to realise he couldn’t bear for Henry to be awake and in the care of a stranger. He tried desperately to stay in his study and work, but over and over he’d hear Henry sob in frustration and he didn’t have a choice but to investigate.

Then Henry’s little face, dull and indifferent in the care of the impeccably referenced and very nice nanny, would crease into laughter at the sight of him. He’d hold out his arms to Marc, and Marc would be hooked.

So the nanny left, smiling her appreciation at a parent who really cared.

After that Henry settled into a predictable schedule. He woke at dawn, played for a couple of hours, slept mid-morning, played again, napped in the afternoon and slept solidly from about seven at night.

So for Marc it was easy. Almost. It was just a matter of fitting his work around Henry’s schedule.

It didn’t include a social life, but curiously he didn’t seem to want one. The thought of the high life his friends were leading without him left him cold.

But staying in his wonderful château for the rest of his life while he cared for Henry wasn’t so appealing either.

So what was it that he wanted?

Tammy.

He wanted her to come back, he thought over and over again, as the time she’d been away grew longer. He wanted her to return and take over Henry so he could get his life back again.

But…he didn’t want his life. He’d just told himself he no longer missed the social hubbub he’d existed in before. Ingrid made a few interested phone calls-testing the water, but the water was ice-cold.

So he worked, he played with Henry, and he bonded to his small cousin as he’d never imagined he could bond in his life.

And he thought about Tammy.

She had to come back.

She wouldn’t. He knew that about her now. She’d made her decision and she’d stick to it. Maybe if he mistreated his little cousin she’d return and whisk him back to Australia. Mistreating Henry wasn’t an option, but that was the only way he’d get her back.

‘So what will we do?’ he asked Henry, and Henry gazed back at him and chortled as if extremely amused by the whole situation.

Great!

There were no answers. He could only take one step at a time-settle back at Renouys and wait.

And even that wasn’t easy. The pressure was on for him to return to the palace.

‘You should be here,’ Dominic told him when he phoned to see how the staff were getting on. ‘You know the whole of Broitenburg wants the royal family to live in residence. You’re the state figurehead. You should be here.’

‘Henry’s the state figurehead,’ Marc growled. ‘And he’s too young to live in that damned pile by himself.’

‘You’re the Prince Regent,’ Dominic reminded him. ‘Like it or not, you’re the person everyone wants to see here. The people want you settled, with a family, in the palace where you belong.’

‘I’m settled with Henry right here.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘You know damned well that I have no intention of getting married. Or living in that royal rabbit warren…’

‘Whatever you say, sir,’ Dominic said gently-and he set down the phone before Marc could say a word.

He was going crazy. Another week went past and then another. The press were screaming for a photo-shoot in the grounds of the palace-Henry back where he belonged. Marc delayed it for as long as he could, but finally had to concede. So they stood in the Broitenburg palace gardens while Henry beamed at every photographer as if he was a personal friend. He chortled and chuckled, he offered his teddy for photographers to inspect, and generally behaved as if he was born to stand in the front of the camera.

‘Can we pop him down on the grass and let him crawl?’ one of the photographers asked, and Marc obliged. But Henry was intent on practising his new skill, which was hauling himself to his feet and standing upright unsteadily by Marc’s side. He could just balance…

‘He could so easily be your son,’ one of the photographers said, wondering at the look on Marc’s face. ‘You look like you love him.’

‘He’s a great kid,’ Marc told them, unable to keep the pride from his face, and the photographers snapped on, entranced.

‘We hear you’re making the association official?’

‘I’m hoping to eventually adopt him, yes.’

‘All we need here is a mother…’ one of the journalists said softly, and Marc’s lips tightened. And then he felt the pressure ease from his leg. He looked down, expecting to see Henry plump down onto his bottom.

But Henry did no such thing. He’d released Marc’s trouser leg and was intent on the next step, but first he had to check he had an audience. This was a baby with style!

He gazed up into his cousin’s face-he gave him a huge grin-and took the very first tottering step of his life. He stepped. He balanced for an interminable moment while the Broitenburg press corps held its collective breath. Then he took one more step for effect before he sat down bump on the grass, deeply satisfied with what he’d achieved.

It was such a moment! Journalists and photographers were cheering and laughing, and Marc was staring down at his tiny charge in stupefaction. Such magic!

She should have been here to share it, he thought savagely, the knowledge of what she was missing hitting him like a thunderbolt. And the knowledge of what she’d given him.

She’d given him this. Tammy knew the joy such a moment would bring and she’d walked away. She’d given it to him.

The sensation was almost overwhelming. He hadn’t seen it until now. He’d been a blind, stupid fool.

She hadn’t wanted to go. Of course she hadn’t. She’d brought up Lara almost by herself. She knew the hurt such loving could bring but she’d also known the joy. She’d known that in time he’d feel like this-so proud he could burst.

It was a gift that was so precious it took his breath away. Up until now he’d sworn not to love, but he hadn’t known what he was doing. He hadn’t known what love was.

Tammy had known-and what deeper love to have her walk away-gifting love to him?

Tammy…

‘Tammy?’

‘Mother?’

Tammy had been back in Australia for more than a month. An interminable time. Broitenburg was half a world away. She was back sleeping under the stars as she worked again in the wilderness, and the call on her cellphone late at night made her feel more confused than ever.

‘I need to speak to you.’ Her mother’s voice was harsh and angry and Tammy came instantly awake.

‘Is something wrong?’

It’s Henry, she thought. There hadn’t been a minute since she’d left that she hadn’t thought about Henry-or his big dark cousin.

She’d heard nothing. The temptation to contact Dominic or Mrs Burchett had been almost irresistible, but she meant to continue as she’d started.

She’d trust Henry with Marc. She must.

So why was her mother ringing?

‘Do you know the trouble I had to get your phone number?’ her mother was demanding, and Tammy thought about it. That question, at least, was easy.

‘No,’ Tammy said bleakly. ‘I don’t. I gave this number to you years ago and you’ve never rung until now. Even when Lara died you didn’t use it.’

‘So I lost it,’ her mother snapped. ‘But now…’

‘Now?’ A cold dread was creeping round her heart. Had something happened? If something happened to Henry they’d probably contact her mother. Marc would contact her mother. Of course he would.

Why should he contact her?

‘Have you seen the papers?’

The dread deepened. ‘What papers?’ Tammy flicked on her torch and checked her watch. Eleven p.m. Not so late then-for her mother. It was only to the likes of Tammy who rose at dawn that eleven o’clock seemed late.

‘He’s planning on adopting Henry.’

‘Who…?’

‘That Prince Marc.’ Her mother’s voice was practically vitriolic. ‘He’s wants to adopt Henry without even a by your leave. I’m the child’s grandmother. It’s plastered all over the News of the World-Eligible playboy planning to adopt Heir to Throne. There’s even a picture of him, looking for all the world as if he cares.’

‘And does he?’ A rush of pure pleasure surged through Tammy’s body and she felt herself grinning like a fool. Looking for all the world as if he cares…

‘Who the hell knows if he cares or not? That’s not the point. I’ve had journalists here trying to get a comment. A comment. From me! I tell you, Tammy, I want more than a damned comment. I rang a lawyer here and he says there’s nothing I can do, but there has to be something. I mean, if he wants the kid so much there should be a payment of some sort. Anyway, the lawyer says you’re his legal guardian. If he wants to adopt he’ll have to send you papers to sign. So you can…’

‘I can what?’

‘Demand your rights.’

Tammy thought about it, trying to see where her mother was coming from. And she knew. Of course she knew. ‘You mean money?’

‘Of course I mean money.’

‘There are other rights besides money,’ she said slowly, switching off her torch and settling back into the dark while she let her mother’s words sink in. ‘Yes, I have rights to Henry, but I gave them to Marc willingly. I don’t…I don’t want them back.’

There was an indrawn breath and then a long silence. Communication between mother and daughter had always been thus. Tammy knew exactly what her mother wanted, and by now Isobelle knew exactly what her daughter’s reply would be.

‘You’re a fool,’ Isobelle said at last, and Tammy nodded into the dark.

‘Maybe. It’s what you’ve always called me.’

‘If you’d played your cards right…’

‘I could have stayed at the palace in Broitenburg and done nothing at all for the rest of my life.’ While I loved Marc hopelessly from the sidelines, she added silently to herself. There was no way her mother would hear that. It was a comment for Tammy’s heart alone.

‘This is a waste of time. You deserve to die a spinster with your blasted trees,’ her mother hissed, and Tammy ended the conversation without saying another word.

But she couldn’t go back to sleep.

After a while she rose and climbed into her little truck and drove the half-hour into town to the all-night service station. There on the magazine rack was what she was searching for-the latest edition of the News of the World. She bought herself a coffee and took herself out to the cab of her truck to read it.

It was after midnight now. Apart from the gangly youth holding up the counter in the service station, no one was awake but her. The coffee was warm between her hands, but she found herself shivering as she turned the pages.

And there they were, splashed across page three. It was a lovely, lovely photograph of Marc holding a laughing Henry. The pair looked supremely happy with each other. They looked…at peace.

‘I’ve done the right thing by both of them. I have.’ But she found she was crying, tears slipping helplessly down her face while she stared sightlessly at the photograph and thought of what she’d thrown away.

But she hadn’t thrown it away. What she so desperately wanted had never been offered. What had been offered was a series of one-day access to Henry followed by one day of isolation. It would have been a disrupted upbringing for Henry-and Marc didn’t come into the equation at all.

Or complete isolation. Sole guardianship of Henry with Marc not coming close.

‘At least this way Henry’s safe. And Marc…he’s softened. He’ll love him to bits.’

Her coffee was growing cold but she stared on, thinking of the lonely little tent waiting for her back in the clearing. She’d made her choice. It was the right choice-but she’d never felt so lonely in all her life.

Marc…

Tammy was up a tree when royalty arrived.

It wasn’t the same tree as the last time Marc had arrived, but it might have been. She was thirty feet up a magnificent eucalypt, and she might as well have been alone in the world. There was Tammy and her tree and no one else.

Or that was what she thought. In reality Doug, the team foreman, was straight underneath her, pointing upward, and beside him were Marc and Henry.

‘Hey, Tam. You’ve got visitors,’ Doug called, and then grinned and took his departure. He suspected he might be losing his very favourite worker, but Tammy hadn’t been the same since she’d returned from her overseas jaunt. She usually sang as she worked, but she’d returned from Broitenburg pale-faced and silent. Doug had employed enough young men and women in his time to know there was probably a love affair behind this, and by the look on this particular man’s face as he’d asked for directions he might just be the cause.

So he had directed Marc to the clearing and then pointed upward. And left them to it.

‘Hi,’ Marc said as Tammy stared stupidly down. She was swinging in her harness but her world was spinning far, far faster.

‘H…hi,’ she said at last, and her voice cracked a little. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Looking for you.’

‘You’ve found me.’

‘So I have,’ Marc said carefully, and then he set Henry carefully on his feet. The clearing was covered with soft moss and undergrowth; it was a glorious place for a little boy to explore and Henry had been buckled into his baby seat for far too long. ‘I need to speak to your aunt,’ Marc told the little boy. ‘So if you’ll excuse me for a minute…?’

And he leapt up to catch a lower limb and started to climb.

Which left Tammy breathless with shock. ‘You haven’t got a harness,’ she managed, and Marc grinned.

‘Neither I have.’ Tammy’s voice had been a squeak of alarm but Marc’s was rock-steady.

‘You’ll fall.’

‘I’ve fallen.’

‘I don’t…’ She was breathing way, way too fast. It was such a shock-seeing him. This was a very different Marc from the one she’d seen first. He was wearing casual jeans and a faded sweater-gear more suitable for climbing trees than for being Prince Regent of Broitenburg-but he was still Marc for all that.

He was still capable of taking her breath away.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said at last. He was twenty feet up and climbing as surely as if he’d spent his life in trees. ‘You’ve fallen where?’

‘I’ve fallen for you.’

That was another breath-taker. She had some serious thinking to do here, but her thinking mechanisms seemed all upside down. Below them Henry was watching in wide-eyed wonder. His cousin climbing trees was something new.

‘You should be in Broitenburg,’ Tammy managed. ‘Aren’t you risking Henry’s ascendancy or something? Bringing him here?’

‘Henry’s ascendancy no longer matters.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she repeated. She succeeded in sounding cross this time and his grin widened, despite the problems he was having in the climbing department. She really was too far up for comfort. He was making this climbing business look easy, but he really should have a harness and he had to take care. He hadn’t come this far to break his neck.

At least not before he kissed her.

At least not before he claimed her.

‘I’m officially adopting Henry,’ he told her as he tried to focus on staying in the tree. ‘If you agree. I have the papers in the car. That means Henry gets to inherit regardless. If he stays out of the country for longer than specified then he loses out on being first in line to the throne, but if he’s officially my son then he gets to be second in line after I inherit.’

‘Which means he inherits if you fall on your head,’ she managed. ‘Marc, be careful. You need a harness to be safe.’

‘I don’t need anything of the sort.’ He’d reached her now, hauling himself up onto the wide branch she’d tied herself to. She was swinging beside him in her sling-seat and he caught her and pulled her into him. The motion made him wobble, and she had to put out her hands to catch him and steady him. And hold…

‘Hey.’ He held her right back, and it was just as well she was wearing a harness as it meant that at least one of them was anchored to the tree. And if one of them was anchored then both of them were, because neither was letting go.

‘Tammy.’ His face was two inches from hers and he was smiling into her eyes with such a look…

She stopped breathing altogether at that. After all, why should she breathe? There were much more interesting things to do in life than breathe.

‘Have you missed me?’ he asked, and she just gazed at him with a look that meant it was his turn to stop breathing. Stupid question, her look said. Yeah, it was definitely a stupid question.

He hadn’t realised she was this beautiful, he decided. He’d imagined her all the time she was away, and his imagination had said she was the most gorgeous woman in the world. His imagination had underestimated it. Her eyes were melting into him. She was small and waif-like, but warm and rounded and tanned and lovely. Now her wide eyes were filled with confusion, but filled with something else as well.

His Tammy.

‘I…did you come to get the adoption papers signed?’

‘No.’

‘Then why…?’

‘Because I didn’t see,’ he murmured and her hands held him in tighter. She was just stopping him from falling. She was just stopping herself from falling.

They were stopping each other from falling-but they were both falling so fast the world was whizzing past them.

The world didn’t matter.

‘You didn’t see…what?’ she whispered, and he held her tighter.

‘How much you were giving.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Neither did I.’ He was holding her strongly now, regardless of the fact that they were sitting on a branch thirty feet in the air. He was holding her as if he was holding the woman he loved rather than the woman who would keep them both safe through her harness.

Maybe it was the same thing. Maybe this was the woman who would keep him safe for ever.

‘I fell in love with Henry,’ he told her.

She was so confused she didn’t have a clue what was happening, but her heart was beginning to sing. Joy. Oh, joy…‘Of course you did.’

‘But I hadn’t realised,’ Marc said seriously. He put her away from him then-just a little-so he could gaze into those wonderful eyes and make her see. ‘You fell for Henry the first time you met him. Because you knew what love was.’

‘Yes, but…’

‘But you let him go,’ he said. ‘You let him go so he’d love me. So that I’d know what love was. So I’d lose this crazy shield I’d built up. You didn’t run away from responsibility. You gave away the most precious thing in the world. You gave me love.’

‘I…’

‘It was a gift without price,’ he said, and the smile behind his eyes was such that she stopped breathing all over again. ‘I hadn’t seen it. And then Henry took his first steps.’

‘Henry’s walking?’

‘He sure is.’ They both looked down to where Henry was taking teetering steps on the mossy forest floor. ‘I was there to see it. So was half the press corps of Broitenburg. But you weren’t. You’d left. You’d given me love and then you’d left. And you should have been there. You should be there.’

‘Marc, I c…can’t…’ she stammered, and he put his finger on her lips and shook his head.

‘You can’t do what I asked you? No. I won’t accept taking Henry every second day and you can’t take full responsibility for him. Because that way I’d be the loser. Only I didn’t see it until now. So I’m not here to relinquish responsibility, Tammy. For anything.’

‘I don’t…’ She couldn’t go on. She was so confused she was speechless.

But Marc knew what he had to say and he said it.

‘I’m taking responsibility for my country,’ he told her seriously-because this had to be said. It had to be cleared between them. She had to know what she was getting into. If she’d take the next step… ‘When Jean-Paul died I was appalled. I wasn’t stepping into his shoes because I couldn’t accept the role of royalty. I thought royalty was a goldfish bowl and there was nothing in it for me. But I’ve learned to see. Sure it’s a goldfish bowl; sure, it’s a huge load of responsibility but it means I can take control of my country’s future. I can care for my people. I can care for you.’

He pressed his fingers on her wondering lips and he smiled-such a smile!

‘When I first met you I was desperate to offload that responsibility,’ he told her. ‘I wanted Henry to have it regardless. I’d have put Henry into the care of nannies, I’d have done what I had to to keep him materially cared for and I’d have kept my distance. But now…thanks to you…’

‘I haven’t done anything.’

‘Oh, but you have.’ The tenderness in his eyes was all-enveloping. ‘You look at me just as you’re looking at me now. You trust me as you trusted me when you walked away and left me with Henry. You love…’

‘I can’t…’

‘You can’t love me?’ The smile died a little and his brow furrowed. ‘Tammy, you must. You must. You see, I love you so much. If I’ve killed it… Tell me I haven’t killed it. Tell me I can’t have been that stupid.’ His hands held hers, urgently pleading. ‘I want you, Tammy. I want you to be my wife. I want you and me to return to Broitenburg in all honour-husband and wife with our son between us, ready to accept the crown and all it entails. Ready to take on the joys and the sorrows of our country. Ready to take on the joys and sorrows of our family.

‘But mostly…’ His voice softened and there was a look of such uncertainty in his eyes that Tammy felt her heart twist within her. ‘Mostly joy. Tammy, if you’ll marry me-if you’ll love me for ever… I can’t imagine any greater joy than that. Will you marry me, my heart? Will you be Crown Princess of Broitenburg, mother to Henry-wife to me? Will you be my love-now and for ever?’

And what was a girl to say to that?

Tammy Dexter, tree surgeon extraordinaire-clad in overalls with her hair braided down her back, with a smut on the end of her nose and with tears in her eyes-Tammy Dexter looked long and deeply into the eyes of the man she loved with all her heart.

Crown Prince of Broitenburg?

No.

He was her Marc.

‘Of course I’ll marry you,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, my love, how can you doubt it? Of course I’ll marry you.’

‘You will?’

He hadn’t been sure. She could see it in his eyes-in the exultant joy that flashed across his face and in the way he fumbled uncertainly in the pocket of his jeans. He hadn’t thought she would.

He was smiling and smiling-their eyes locked as he fumbled for the blasted box-and then he swore as the tiny crimson box came too fast out of its hiding place. The lid came up; Tammy saw a flash of diamonds and then watched as a tiny sparkling ring tumbled downward to the leaf litter below.

Henry saw it fall. He watched as this bright sparkling thing landed at his feet and he gave it his very serious attention. Slowly he bent and lifted it to inspect it from all angles.

‘We’d better go down,’ Tammy said-very, very unsteadily. How could her voice be anything but unsteady through tears? ‘If my nephew’s holding what I think he’s holding.’

‘He’s holding our future,’ Marc told her. His hands caught her to him and he kissed her-a kiss of love and wonder and promise of joy to come. ‘He’s holding our future in his hands.’

‘Then we’d better go down fast,’ Tammy said between laughter and tears and pure, bright joy. ‘We’d better descend right now, before the heir apparent to the throne of Broitenburg decides he might eat it.’

‘It’s a letter from Tammy.’

It was teabreak for Doug and the team. The billy was steaming on the campfire and Tammy’s old foreman had ripped open the letter with the royal insignia and was planning to read it to the three team members clustered around. ‘Will you listen to this?’

He read.

Dear Doug, Lucy, Danny and Mia

Thank you so much for your letter. This is such a wonderful place that I hardly have time to be homesick, but I do miss you.

We’ve been so busy. Marc has taken on the role of Crown Prince, with all the responsibility that entails. We’ve officially adopted our beloved Henry, so one day he’ll inherit the throne-as he should-but this way responsibility comes as it would if his father had survived. We figure this way he’s going to have a much more carefree childhood, with the attention taken from him. It’s the right decision. Henry’s happy as a piglet in mud, as are we all.

The reason I’m writing now is to ask for your help. The woodland here needs serious work. Otto, our head gardener, and I have been trying to treat the trees, but the woodland was planted three hundred years ago. We need manpower, and Marc and I were wondering whether the four of you would like to take a couple of months’ break from Australian natives and help us out.

There’s a lot I can do myself, but Marc is being funny about me abseiling right now. I guess he’ll be like that for the next few months. Can you imagine why? I admit my bump will get in the way a bit, but we’re so excited it’s worth it. Marc can’t keep the grin from his face. He walks around the palace smiling and smiling-almost as much as I am.

Well. Enough of bumps and babies and soppy romance with happy endings. We’d like you to do the work so you have first offer. Can we send you plane fares?

Will you come?

Doug set down the letter and picked up the magazine Lucy was holding out to him. Lucy was a damned fine tree surgeon but she wasn’t a patch on Tammy. Could he take the team to this odd place called Broitenburg?

‘It’s too darned foreign. I bet they don’t have meat pies and tomato sauce,’ he said doubtfully. ‘They’d probably try and make us eat truffles.’

‘I’ve always wanted to try truffles,’ Lucy said. ‘And…it looks great.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ Lucy had the magazine opened to the centrefold, and she pointed. ‘Look.’

Doug looked down at the photograph. It had been taken six months ago, on Tammy’s wedding day.

There they were. Marc and Tammy. Bride and groom. He was in his full royal regalia, sword by his side, stunningly handsome. She was all in white-a fairy princess. But, amazing as the wonderful clothes were, the focus was their faces.

The love in their eyes shone out for the whole world to see. Here was a true prince with his princess. Marc with his Tammy.

There was an elderly gentleman standing beside them-‘Dominic, Head Steward of the household’, the blurb said. He was holding a little boy with all the pride of a grandpa. Behind them were the castle staff, and there was joy on every single face.

In the background was the castle, glistening in its glory.

‘It looks a happy place to be,’ Lucy said, and her voice sounded wistful.

‘Magic,’ Danny agreed. Danny was almost seventy years old, and had never been out of Australia in his life. ‘All them turrets and things. And look at Tammy in that glittery white dress with the veil and all. She looks like a real princess.’

‘She is a princess,’ Mia said, and they all laughed.

But there were serious issues at stake here. ‘Tammy wants us to come,’ Doug said as their laughter faded. And they all thought about it.

‘There’s nothing to say, then, is there?’ Danny said at last into the stillness. ‘She’s the princess. What royalty commands, royalty gets. Let’s go fix her trees.’