Expecting the Prince's Baby. Rebecca Winters
PRINCE’S FINAL words, “sweet dreams,” stayed with her all night. Seeing him again had caused an adrenaline rush she couldn’t shut off. She awakened earlier than usual to get ready, knowing Michelina’s mother would ask a lot of questions.
Abby always dressed up for work. Since the law firm of Faustino, Ruggeri, Duomo and Tonelli catered to a higher-class clientele, Signor Faustino, the senior partner, had impressed upon her and everyone else who worked there the need to look fashionable. Though her heart wasn’t in it this morning, she took her antinausea pill with breakfast, then forced herself to go through the motions.
Everyone knew she was the daughter of the chief of security for the palace, so no one questioned the royal limo bringing her to and from work. Except for her boss and Carolena, her coworkers were clueless about Abby’s specific situation. That’s the way things needed to remain until she took a leave of absence.
After the delivery, the palace would issue a formal statement that a surrogate mother had successfully carried the baby of their Royal Highnesses, the new heir who would be second in line to the throne. At that time Abby would disappear. But it wouldn’t be for a while.
Vincenzo had been a part of her life for so long, she couldn’t imagine the time coming when she’d no longer see him. Once the baby was born, she would live in another part of the city and get on with her life as a full-time attorney. How strange that was going to be.
From the time she’d moved here with her family, he’d been around to show her everything the tourists never got to see. He’d taken her horseback riding on the grounds, or let her come with him when he took out his small sailboat. Vincenzo had taught her seamanship. There was nothing she loved more than sitting out in the middle of the sea while they fished and ate sweets from the palace kitchen. He had the run of the place and let her be his shadow.
Abby’s friends from school had come over to her parents’ apartment, and sometimes she’d gone to their houses. But she much preferred being with Vincenzo and had never missed an opportunity to tag along. Unlike the big brothers of a couple of her friends who didn’t want the younger girls around, Vincenzo had always seemed to enjoy her company and invited her to accompany him when he had free time.
Memories flooded her mind as she walked over to the closet and pulled out one of her favorite Paoli dresses. When Abby had gone shopping with Carolena, they’d both agreed this one had the most luscious yellow print design on the body of the dress.
The tiny beige print on the capped sleeves and hem formed the contrast. Part of the beige print also drew the material that made tucks at the waist. Her friend had cried that it was stunning on Abby, with her silvery-blond hair color. Abby decided to wear it while she still could. The way she was growing, she would need to buy loose-fitting clothes this weekend.
After arranging her hair back in a simple low chignon with three pins, she put on her makeup, slipped on matching yellow shoes and started out of the bedroom. But she only made it to the hallway with her bone-colored handbag when her landline rang. Presuming it was her father calling to see how she was doing, she walked into the den to pick up and say hello.
“Signorina Loretto? This is Marcello. You are wanted in the king’s drawing room. Are you ready?”
Her hand gripped the receiver tighter. It sounded urgent. During the night she’d worried about this meeting. It was only natural Michelina’s mother would want to meet the woman who would be giving birth to her grandchild. But something about the look in Vincenzo’s eyes had given her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Yes. I’ll be right there.”
“Then I’ll inform His Highness, and meet you in the main corridor.”
“Thank you.”
Because of Vincenzo, Abby was familiar with every part of the palace except the royal apartments. He’d taken her to the main drawing room, where the king met with heads of state, several times. Vincenzo had gotten a kick out of watching her reaction as he related stories about foreign dignitaries that weren’t public knowledge.
But her smile faded as she made her way across the magnificent edifice to meet Michelina’s mother. She knew the queen was grieving. Marcello met her in the main hallway. “Follow me.”
They went down the hall past frescoes and paintings, to another section where they turned a corner. She spied the country’s flag draped outside an ornate pair of floor-to-ceiling doors. Marcello knocked on one of the panels and was told to enter. He opened the door, indicating she should go in.
The tall vaulted ceiling of the room was a living museum to the history of Arancia, and had known centuries of French and Italian rulers. But Abby’s gaze fell on Vincenzo, who was wearing a somber midnight-blue suit. Opposite him sat Michelina’s stylish sixty-five-year-old mother, who was brunette like her late daughter. She’d dressed in black, with a matching cloche hat, and sat on one of the brocade chairs.
“Come all the way in, Signorina Loretto. I’d like you to meet my mother-in-law, Her Majesty the Queen of Gemelli.” Abby knew Gemelli—another citrus-producing country—was an island kingdom off the eastern coast of Sicily, facing the Ionian Sea.
She moved toward them and curtsied the way she’d been taught as a child after coming to the palace. “Your Majesty. It’s a great honor, but my heart has been bleeding for you and the prince. I cared for your daughter very much.”
The matriarch’s eyes were a darker brown than Michelina’s, more snapping. She gave what passed for a nod before Vincenzo told Abby to be seated on the love seat on the other side of the coffee table. Once she was comfortable, he said, “If you recall, Michelina and I flew to Gemelli so she could tell the queen we were pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“To my surprise, the unexpected nature of our news came as a great shock to my mother-in-law, since my wife hadn’t informed her of our decision to use a surrogate.”
What?
“You mean your daughter never told you what she and the prince were contemplating?”
“No,” came the answer through wooden lips.
Aghast, Abby averted her eyes, not knowing what to think. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.”
“We’re all sorry, because the queen and Michelina argued,” Vincenzo explained. “Unfortunately before they could talk again, the accident happened. The queen would like to take this opportunity to hear from the woman who has dared to go against nature to perform a service for which she gets nothing in return.”
CHAPTER THREE
ABBY REELED.
For Vincenzo to put it so bluntly meant he and his mother-in-law had exchanged harsh if not painfully bitter words. But he was a realist and had decided the only thing to do was meet this situation head-on. He expected Abby to handle it because of their long-standing friendship over the years.
“You haven’t answered my question, Signorina Loretto.”
At the queen’s staccato voice, Abby struggled to catch her breath and remain calm. No wonder she’d felt tension from him last night when he’d brought up this morning’s meeting. Michelina’s omission when it came to her mother had put a pall over an event that was helping Vincenzo to get up in the morning.
He was counting on Abby being able to deal with his mother-in-law. She refused to let him down even if it killed her. More time passed while she formulated what to say before focusing on the queen.
“If I had a daughter who came to me in the same situation, I would ask her exactly the same question. In my case, I’ve done it for one reason only. Perhaps you didn’t know that the prince rescued me from certain death when I was seventeen. I lost my mother in that same sailboat accident. Before I was swept to shore by the wind, I’d lost consciousness.
“When the prince found me, I was close to death but didn’t know it.” Abby’s