Their Secret Royal Baby

‘Sure,’ Elias said, because the little girl would need to be added to the system quickly as she had been transferred to another hospital.

He gave the overdose the activated charcoal to drink. Her boyfriend was with her and Elias explained the importance of finishing the bottle.

‘It looks awful, I know,’ he said, ‘but it doesn’t really taste of anything. Make sure she drinks it all. Any problems, press this bell. The medics should be down soon to admit her.’

Elias moved to the nurses’ station and took out the other paperwork that was waiting to be filled in.

Elizabeth Foster.

He saw that she was now twenty-three and that she lived in Edinburgh, though when he had met her Beth had lived in Dunroath, a small fishing village on the east coast of Fife.

And she had put Rory as her next of kin.

He knew that was her ex.

Maybe they were back together?

Perhaps the baby wasn’t even his.

Elias knew that she was, though, and not just from the dates.

Beth had made a comment on the night they had met about being a ‘daughter of the manse’.

He hadn’t known what it had meant then.

He knew what it meant now—her father was a minister and very strict.

Elias guessed that these past months would have pretty much been hell for her.

He wrote up his patient notes.

Presented to Accident and Emergency department at 29/40 gestation.

And he wrote about the rapid delivery and all that had happened and that she had been transferred to St Patrick’s for postnatal care.

And then he went to the other patient that required a signature.

There were rather a lot of forms to fill in when it came to a new life.

Baby Foster.

Born 29/40 weeks gestation.

Precipitate labour, rapid delivery.

One-minute Apgar score: 7

His hand was shaking as he wrote because the ramifications were just starting to hit him.

Not just that he had become a father.

The second in line to the throne had just delivered the third in line to the throne.

The palace always announced the delivering doctor.

He could see the headlines and the chaos the press would make of the circumstances tonight.

All this he was starting to envision but not quite, because all he could really see in his mind’s eye was the sight of the baby. Her tiny head and flaccid limbs. The little tufts of red hair and that she had been struggling to breathe. How her eyes had closed and her nostrils had flared as her tiny mouth had blown bubbles.

What the hell was he doing here?

Elias was closer to tears than he had ever been in his life and panic was building as he placed his head in his hands.

‘Are you okay?’ Roger checked.

He too knew how hard it was to work when you had just been informed of a personal crisis.

‘Not really,’ Elias said, and he took a steadying breath and told himself that Beth and the baby were in good hands—but he needed to see that for himself.

Then came the words that he had waited to hear.

‘Raj is here.’

‘Thank you.’

The department was covered.

Elias walked briskly around to the on-call room and pulled off his scrubs and runners and changed into black jeans and a jumper and pulled on his boots and jacket.

Then he turned off the white-noise machine and walked out.

The man was still singing ‘I Belong to Glasgow’ as he walked through the observation room and then stepped out of the fire exit and into the night.

His baby would belong to Medrindos.

If he told his family what was happening huge wheels would be set in instant motion. There would be lawyers and background checks immediately commenced on Beth. He would be told to step back and let the palace handle things from here.

A princess had just been born and Beth didn’t even know that he was royal.

Elias had chosen not to tell her that night.

He knew it was his baby.

Not because of some instant connection or primal instinct that the child was his.

But because he had got to know Beth that night.

Whatever the palace or her family might make of their encounter, no matter how they might deem it a one-night stand, he knew what a rare gift it had been.