Royal Babies: Claiming His Secret Royal Heir / Pregnant with a Royal Baby! / Secret Child, Royal Scandal

‘Does there have to be a reason?’

Sunita tipped her head to one side. ‘There usually is.’

‘So what’s your favourite colour?’

‘Red.’

‘Because...?’

‘Because it was my mother’s favourite colour—I like to think it was her way of sticking two fingers up at the world that had branded her a scarlet woman. She always wore something red—her sari would maybe have a red weave, or she’d wear a red flower, or paint her toenails red. And as for her lipstick collection...’

‘You must miss her.’

‘I do. A lot.’ She looked down at her plate and scooped up the last of her rissole. ‘Anyway, why aquamarine blue?’

Reluctance laced his vocal cords—along with a sense of injustice that a question that had seemed so simple on the surface had suddenly become more complex. Get a grip. If this was a hoop Sunita had constructed as a prelude to marriage then he’d jump through it—he’d do the damn hula if necessary.

‘It’s the colour of the Lycander Sea. When life in the palace became too much I’d escape to the beach, watch the sea. It put things into perspective. Sometimes it was so still, so calm, so serene it gave me peace. Occasionally it would be turbulent, and then I guess I’d identify with it. As a child I was pretty sure Neptune lived off the coast of Lycander...’

OK, Frederick, that’s enough. More than he’d intended in fact. But there was something about the way Sunita listened—really listened—that seemed to have affected him.

She watched him now, lips slightly parted, tawny eyes serious, but as if sensing his discomfort she leant back before she spoke.

‘OK, next question. Star sign?’

‘Leo.’

‘Me too.’

‘Is that good or bad?’

‘I really don’t know. We’d need to ask Nanni—she is an avid believer in horoscopes. Though I’m not sure why. I think her parents had her and my grandfather’s horoscopes read to see if they’d be a good match, and the astrologer was confident they were compatible.’

‘Were they?’

‘I don’t think they can have been. From what my mother told me my grandfather was a tyrant and a control freak, whereas Nanni is a kind, gentle woman. But Nanni herself never speaks of her marriage—and never criticises my grandfather. And she still believes in horoscopes.’

‘What about you? Do you believe in horoscopes?’

‘I think there may be something in it, but not enough that you can base your life decisions on them—that’s the easy way out, isn’t it? You can just shrug your shoulders and blame fate if it all goes wrong. It doesn’t work like that—life is about choice.’

‘Yes...’ Bleakness settled on him—his choices had cost Axel his life. ‘But life is also about the consequences of those choices. Consequences you have to live with.’

‘Yes, you do. But in this case Amil’s future is in our hands—he will have to live with the destiny we choose for him. And that is hard. But it’s not only about Amil. It’s about us as well. You and me. That’s why this marriage can’t work.’

Her chin jutted out at an angle of determination.

Frederick frowned—but before he could respond the door opened and Deepali re-entered the room, followed by a young man pushing a trolley.

‘Fish recheado,’ the young man announced. ‘Made with pomfret.’

Deepali’s face shone with pride. ‘This is my son, Ashok—he is the chef here,’ she explained.

‘I thought you might want to know about the dish,’ Ashok said.

‘I’d love to.’

Sunita smiled her trademark smile and Frederick saw Ashok’s appreciation.

‘The pomfret is stuffed with a special paste. I used chillies, cloves, cumin and lemon. It is a Goan dish, but recheado means stuffed in Portuguese.’ Ashok smiled. ‘And there is also Goan bread, freshly baked. Enjoy.’

Frederick waited until the mother and son had left the room and then he looked at Sunita.

‘Why not?’ he repeated.

CHAPTER NINE (#u60fd3b44-9a7b-54ef-b1a8-0befae42f13e)

‘WHY WON’T THIS marriage work?’

Frederick’s voice was even, his question posed as if the topic under discussion was as simple as a grocery list rather than the rest of their lives.

Sunita took a deep breath and marshalled the thoughts she’d herded into a cogent argument throughout the starter. ‘Would you have even considered marriage to me if it wasn’t for Amil?’

There was no hesitation as he tipped his hand in the air, palm up. ‘No.’

To her surprise, irrational hurt touched her that he didn’t have to give it even a second’s thought. ‘Exactly.’

‘But you can’t take Amil out of the equation. If it weren’t for Amil you wouldn’t consider marriage to me either.’

‘I get that. But it’s different for you. I don’t need to marry anyone. You do, and you need it to be the right person—for Lycander’s sake. A woman like Lady Kaitlin Derwent. I am the antithesis of Kaitlin.’

For an insane moment the knowledge hurt. But she was no longer a child, desperately trying to measure up to her half-sisters and always failing. High academic grades, musical ability, natural intelligence... You name it, Sunita lacked it. But in this case she needed to emphasise her failings with pride.

‘I haven’t got an aristocratic bone in my body, and I don’t have the gravitas that you need to offer the Lycander people.’

‘You are the mother of my son.’

‘Your illegitimate son. Plus, I was a model. Your father married or was associated with a succession of models, actresses and showbiz people, and all his relationships ended in scandal. Your people will tar me with the same brush.’

‘Then so be it. I agree that you do not have the background I was looking for in my bride, but I believe you will win the people over. In time.’

‘I don’t think I will.’ She inhaled deeply. ‘For a start, I want to resume my modelling career—and I can’t see that going down a storm with the people.’

Or with him. He masked his reaction, but not fast enough—he hadn’t taken that into the equation.

‘You don’t like the idea either?’

‘I neither like nor dislike it. I agree it might be problematic for the people to accept, but it’s a problem we can work around.’