The Improperly Pregnant Princess

“Is everything set, Your Majesty?” asked his adviser.

“The royal jet can leave first thing in the morning, as we discussed,” Easton said. “My daughter-in-law was most receptive to my plans, although I suppose she’d have been happier with more than a day’s notice.”

“You are springing quite a surprise on her,” Sir Harrison said.

“She doesn’t know the half of it yet.” Easton smiled, picturing stylish Charlotte DeLacey Carradigne. He hadn’t seen her in—how many years? Twenty? Amazing.

The last time they’d met had been after his youngest son, Drake, died in a plane crash, leaving a wife and three daughters in New York. Busy running her family’s DeLacey Shipping Co., Charlotte hadn’t traveled to Korosol since the funeral, and, Easton had to admit, he’d sorely neglected his granddaughters.

Time passed so quickly. Much too quickly, he could see now.

“You didn’t mention your purpose?” Sir Harrison asked. Like his monarch, he chose to speak in English in preparation for their trip. In addition to French, the nation’s first language, almost all Korosolans spoke fluent English and Spanish.

“I did not.” Easton hoped he was doing the right thing by keeping his illness and his plans secret. “I want to see my granddaughters as they really are. The less preparation they have, the better. Especially Cecelia.”

“You haven’t reconsidered Prince James?” Only Sir Harrison would dare to ask such a question. It was, indeed, his duty to make sure the king weighed all aspects of this crucial decision.

“Out of the question,” Easton said sadly. “I wish it were otherwise, believe me.”

His middle son had turned out wild. Thrice divorced and a heavy drinker, James worked as something called a “wildcatter” in Wyoming. Easton believed his job had something to do with oil wells, although he wouldn’t put it past his renegade son to hunt mountain lions for a living, either.

James had a variety of children by an assortment of unsuitable wives. It seemed unlikely any of them would be prepared to assume the mantle of monarchy.

No, Charlotte’s daughters were his best bet, the king mused. Their mother, a debutante from a well-connected family, met Easton’s high standards, and her daughters were the toast of New York society.

Her eldest daughter, Cecelia, had earned an MBA and served as executive vice president of DeLacey Shipping. At twenty-nine, she appeared well qualified to run a country.

There were two younger daughters as well. While he assumed they had also been raised with a sense of propriety, Easton knew little about them.

The only other younger member of the royal family was the king’s nephew, Christopher, a married father of two, who lived in California. Unfortunately, Christopher was the illegitimate son of Easton’s deceased sister, Magdalene, and therefore not really considered part of the royal family.

“As you requested, we’re taking only a small staff,” Sir Harrison said. “I believe we can keep our presence out of the press.”

“I certainly hope so. The people of Korosol should learn of their new ruler from me, not from some scandal sheet,” the king said. “Ellie’s agreed to go, has she?” Eleanor Standish, a young woman of good family who had been his wife’s goddaughter, served as his personal secretary.

“Certainly. She’s devoted to you.”

“Glad to hear it.” Lively Ellie lifted the king’s spirits and saw to his comfort whenever they were away from the palace.

“We’ll take six bodyguards, two per eight-hour shift,” the adviser continued. “The captain of the Royal Guard will accompany us, of course.”

Sir Harrison made no reference to the fact that Captain Devon Montcalm was his son. The young man, a fine military officer who had been knighted two years ago, was not close to his father.

“The Duke of Raleigh is coming also, is he not?” Easton demanded. “It was my personal request that he be assigned to the embassy in New York.”

“Of course,” said Sir Harrison. “He understands the delicate nature of his assignment.”

The duke, Cadence St. John, was to serve as acting ambassador. In reality, as a commander in the Korosol Special Operatives, Cade was under orders to watch for any threat to the three New York princesses.

If Markus had indeed arranged the deaths of his parents to promote his own succession to the throne, he wouldn’t stop at frightening or even killing one of his cousins. The king wanted Cade St. John to keep an ear to the ground.

“Since we’re leaving in the morning,” the adviser said, “perhaps Your Majesty should get some rest.”

“I’m not decrepit yet.” Easton’s doctors had assured him that he could make this trip safely if he didn’t overexert himself.

“I was implying no such thing.”

“You’re my adviser, not my nursemaid,” the king added for emphasis. He didn’t want his staff members fussing over him, however noble their motives. “In any case, with luck, it will be a short trip. I will inform Lady Charlotte’s family of my intentions and spend a few days observing Princess Cecelia. Then we can all fly back here.”

“I hope the princess is everything you expect,” said Sir Harrison.

“She will be.” Easton stifled a yawn. After his protestation, he didn’t want his adviser to see how sleepy he suddenly felt. “The girl has royal blood and a proper upbringing. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Nothing, Your Majesty,” said the general.

“That’s right. Nothing!” said the king. “Don’t you need to go to bed?”

“Me?” said Sir Harrison.

“You look tired,” he said. “Go on with you.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The royal adviser bowed and withdrew.

King Easton waited a couple of minutes to make sure the man had cleared the corridor, then took himself off to his chamber. He was already dreaming, before his head hit the pillow, of what a perfect choice his granddaughter would turn out to be.

Chapter One

“Congratulations,” the doctor said. “You’re pregnant.”

“I’m what?” Sitting on the edge of the examining table, CeCe Carradigne wished that, by some miracle, she would suddenly see that another woman had slipped in to the examining room and was now hearing the happy news.

A married woman. A woman who wanted children.

There was, however, no one else in the well-appointed examining room. Just unmarried CeCe, who didn’t have a maternal instinct in her body, and Dr. Elizabeth Loesser, known to her patients as Dr. Beth.

“I take it this pregnancy wasn’t planned,” the doctor said.

“That’s an understatement.” CeCe struggled to maintain her composure. It was no use. “How did this happen?” she wailed. “Wait. Don’t answer that.”

Dr. Beth smiled. “I’m sure you know the facts of life, Miss Carradigne…or should I call you Princess?”

“I wish people would forget about that royalty business,” CeCe said. “I haven’t felt like a princess since my father died.”

“A pregnancy is something to be welcomed, especially when the mother is in good health, as you are,” her physician continued. “Of course, if you want to consider adoption, I’d be happy to make a referral.”

A Carradigne, give up a baby for adoption? The tabloids would splash the story across every newsstand in America. Royal Baby to Be Given Away.

The paparazzi were the bane of CeCe’s life. Even without an adoption to ignite their interest, she shuddered to think what they would do if they learned of her out-of-wedlock condition. “Princess Pregnant, But Where’s the Prince?” they’d trumpet.