Ever since I’d gotten back, I had been a mess. I was grumpy and testy, and utterly unsurprised that nobody wanted to be around me. At first, I chalked it up to the exhaustion, and my shock at finding out about Robert—but as the weeks went on and I continued to find it harder and harder to concentrate on anything. Finding my rhythm in this place was proving more difficult the second time around.

I also seemed to be putting on weight as if I were back in college, another round of the freshman fifteen. More like twenty-five I thought wryly as I glanced down at my expanding body.

Yet despite the extra pounds and avoiding Angel’s fried food, I was experiencing the worst stomach bug I had ever known. It had been persistent. I just couldn’t shake it. But, then I finally began to put two and two together… and now I sat in the toilet cubicle alone—wondering what on earth I had ever done to deserve such a crazy and unbelievable life.

I stared at the four pregnancy tests in my hand, focusing intensely at the little lines.

One might have been a mistake. Maybe even two. A bad batch of tests perhaps. But not all four. Especially when I’d made sure not to take the tests all from the same box and batch.

Clear as day the reasons for my mood, weight-gain, and nausea were before me.

Each test all indicated that I was definitely pregnant. And at least two months along, by my rough calculations.

I could have cried, but somehow it seemed that I had cried out all of my tears in the past few months. I sank down onto the floor, not caring about the dirt and dust and held onto my knees.

I should’ve been happy. Ecstatic even. I’d always wanted to be a mom. But this was like some reoccurring nightmare. God, I’d always been so careful, but that one night with Robert, I’d thrown caution to wind, needing to be with him one last time… and now I was paying the price for my irresponsibility. And now I was pregnant for the second time in my life.

I was scared.

“What the hell is going on in there?” Angel began hammering on the door. “Why are you on the floor? You okay? You’ve been sickly for ages, though I know you have been trying to hide that from me.”

I wanted so desperately to deny it all. She’d send me home again, would tell me to try and contact Robert and sort it out. But how on earth could I sort this out?

If his family would have disliked the idea of me before—a commoner, and American at that—they’d sure as hell hate the idea of a pregnancy out of wedlock! Not that it mattered anyway, as he would be married to Eugenie bloody Fitzroy soon enough. Together they would produce perfect little legitimate heirs with all the right pedigree. Nobody would care about me, or about my baby.

“Go away, Angel. There’s nothing you can do,” I said; my voice was so flat that it shocked me. But, I truly didn’t know what to feel, and so I tried to feel nothing.

“I can be here for you whatever it is, sugar,” she said, her warm and loving voice offering me comfort I didn’t deserve.

How could I have been such a fool as to fall for a prince? Have a couple of incredible encounters with him—one of which was so spontaneous that we had used no protection—and now to be carrying a child who would have a tenuous claim to the British throne… yet have no way of contacting him to tell him and give him the chance to do what was right.

I couldn’t exactly turn up on the doorstep of the royal palace, now could I?

And though I thought I knew enough about Robert Louis Rothchester to know he would want to do the right thing, I didn’t think I could ever be with a man who saw me as a duty or obligation. Or saw me and my unborn child as a way to negate the publicity such a scandal would entail. Who the hell would ever believe anything so crazy could even happen as this mad, mad situation?

I opened the cubicle door, and Angel sank to her knees and immediately wrapped her plump arms around me. She looked at the tests and I knew I didn’t need to say anything more.

“Sugar, does he know?” she asked finally.

“No… How would I even tell him?”

“Oh, honey, I thought you two would have been in touch with each other. He seemed so taken with you. I mean I guessed he must be pretty well off, but I never imagined he’d turn out to be who he is. Even with him upgrading your flights and everything, that came at his request. I should have seen he wasn’t like the rest of us, not really…”

“Sorry, wait. Robert upgraded our flights?” I demanded, stopping her in mid flow. “I knew it hadn’t been the charity, they said as much, but they didn’t let on that it was Robert.”

“Yes, you’ve been here long enough to know that Medica doesn’t have spare cash for anything like that. No, Robert paid for it, made me promise not to tell you, and I guessed he asked the same of the admins of the charity. Shows how terrible I am at keeping a secret.”

“Unlike him,” I said bitterly. “Clearly secrets are his stock in trade. I guess that is probably pretty handy given who he is and all.”

“He’s a prince, Penny. He was in a very dangerous line of work he had to keep quiet I’m sure. Especially now that he’s second in line for the throne.”

“What do you mean he’s now second in line?”

She didn’t need to reply. The moment I asked, my mind flashed back to the caption in the magazine I’d seen then to our final night together and Robert telling me about the loss of his brother. Oh God.

“His brother died, Penny. Prince Frederick,” she whispered.

I nodded knowingly, having not seen the full picture before now. How oblivious and stupid could I be to not have put two and two together? Robert must have been hurting more than I thought.

Granted losing a sibling, or a loved one, was a heart-wrenching nightmare, but in light of who he is I could only imagine the toll it must’ve taken on him not only personally but professionally too. I wasn’t sure exactly how the monarchy in England worked, but would Robert have to take on more responsibilities? Would his life be under more scrutiny now?

And was his brother’s death one of the reasons why he’d decided to end his commission as an officer in the Royal Army Medical Corps?

Either way I could only see one option. I was still alone and he had withheld the truth from me.

“I guess he had to keep some things secret—whether he wanted to or not,” Angel continued.

“Hell, I get that, but how in the hell do I reconcile all of this? I’m pregnant, with the child of a man who lied to me, to you, to all of us. And I have no way to contact him to tell him, unless I do something stupid and contact the tabloids. Which of course I won’t do! But, I also don’t want to tell him, because despite everything, I do love him and don’t want to cause some kind of scandal that will follow him around for the rest of his life.”

She smoothed a hand upon my arm. “Cherie, do you even want the baby?” she asked cautiously.

I blinked, processing her question for a second and knew at once my answer. “Yes. Without a doubt.” I wasn’t giving up this baby, not for anyone. Not again.

“Okay then, I wanted to make sure you’d thought it through. Because, Penny, he will want to do the right thing by you, and having a baby isn’t easy alone. Think of how much he could offer your little one?”

“Angel, no. I could never accept his charity in place of his presence, and I damn well don’t want him to be with me if he doesn’t actually want to be. I’ve already been through that once already!”

Angel stared at me, but wisely didn’t enquire further. Her eyes widened enough for me to know her first impressions of me had thoroughly changed. I may have seemed like a naive girl when I’d first arrived, but that was merely my anxiousness, being a fish out of water; I’d already been through so much in my life that my heart was scratched up and scarred.

I could also tell she disagreed with me with regards to Robert, but she was good enough not to argue with me in my delicate state. Angel was big on men taking responsibility for their actions, even if all they could offer was financial support. But I couldn’t bear the thought of being a weight around anyone’s neck. It wasn’t like I was hard up, and I knew I could get a great job back at home. My little one would never want for a thing—even without his papa’s wealth.

“He can’t know, not ever, Angel,” I said glaring at her fiercely. “If he does, he would feel that he had to come looking for me. I know he would. His family would try and pay me off or would make us marry. Either way I would become a burden. The baby a scandal. I never want to be that to anyone, and that’s certainly no life for a little-one either.”

“Okay, it’s your decision,” she said, delivering the next blow with a grimace. “But you do know that it means you can’t stay here, honey, don’t you? The risks to an unborn child here are far too great. As good as the sanitation is in our camp, you can’t jeopardise the life of your baby by staying here.”

I nodded, sadly, acutely aware of the dangers and epidemics that could have a severe effect on my baby. My life was about to change yet again, I thought, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready.

“I know. I guess I’m straight back on a flight home,” I said shrugging my shoulders; those were the protocols in the camp. “Can we please make sure that nobody else ever knows? I couldn’t bear it if anyone else ever found out and it made it’s way back to Robert. I’ll just fade into the background, like I was never even here, and soon enough none of them will remember me.”

“I doubt that. You won’t be that easy to forget, honey, but sure. We’ll tell everyone your grandpa died or something.”

“But he died years ago,” I exclaimed.

“Exactly, so you aren’t wishing bad luck on anyone else—and I doubt you’ve divulged that information to anyone here so how would they know?”

“Angel, you are too clever and far too devious for your own good.”

“But just enough for yours. Now let’s get you packed and on a troop transport again. Shame you don’t get Air Miles for any of these flights, you could be building up quite a stash!” she said with a braze but doleful glance.

I smiled wanly at her, and let her take me back to our accommodation. Together we packed the things I had so recently unpacked, and I looked around the little room and sighed. I didn’t want to leave it. I felt more at home here, despite all the horrors and the hard work than I ever did anywhere else. And I dreaded telling my Mom and having that conversation yet again. She would never be disappointed in me, but she would be more than a bit worried about what it might all mean.

I said my last goodbyes, each one of them done with tears in my eyes, promising to keep in touch, and left the camp once and for all.

* * *

Mom tried not to look surprised that she was picking me up from the airport again, but I could see she had questions. So many of them. I knew I had to put her out of misery, and fast.

“Mom, you remember I told you about that guy I met out there last time?”

“Sure, baby, sounded like quite the fella. Was he still there?” she said as she put the truck into gear and pulled out of the airport parking lot.

“Well, firstly it turns out that he is a real-life prince,” she turned at me, her face a picture of disbelief. I put my hand on the wheel to steady our course, as we veered just a little towards the median. She quickly took back control and tried to look as if her daughter told her such things every day.

“A prince? Are you sure? A prince of what?”

I nodded. “The Prince of England.”

“Shut the front door!”

The worst was yet to come; she was going to think that I’d gone mad and was making the whole thing up.

“And I’m pregnant,” I added before I removed my hand from the wheel. I was right not to move it. She lifted both hands from the wheel, and covered her mouth which had formed into a perfect ‘O’. I laughed nervously.

“But, baby, they don’t let our kind marry royalty,” she said dumbly. I guess she had a right to be so dumbstruck, hell I still was after all. But slowly it began to dawn on her as I didn’t say a word, just bit nervously at my bottom lip. “You aren’t going to tell him, are you? Not after last time?” she said slowly. I shook my head.

“No, I’m not. I couldn’t bear to go through all the crap that would be bound to follow the announcement of a royal bastard child. I know Robert would want to do the right thing by me, his family would fight it tooth and nail, or force it to avoid scandal. But I won’t have my baby start his or her life as a political pawn. I want him or her to be loved, to be wanted by everyone around them. You will want my baby, won’t you, Mom?”

“Oh, honey, do you even need to ask? I told you before and I’ll tell you again, I will be with you by your side every step of the way, whatever you decide. I’ll love every one of its tiny pink toes and pink fingers and you know it!”

I did know it and she’d already proven as much. She would be the best gran on the planet. My mom had been there when my bastard ex from med school had demanded that I have an abortion when I fell pregnant in my final year.

He’d accused my of awful things like trying to trap him, to tie him down and make him marry me, when nothing was further from the truth. I’d been on the pill and been diligent in taking every single one. We’d also used protection, but somehow even with all that it wasn’t enough.

A part of me knew having the abortion was the logical thing to do, so I could continue on and become a doctor, to make my dreams come true. But I’d always had my doubts. I’d never really had the chance to properly think about my options with my ex breathing down my neck… threatening me.

The “what ifs” and regrets had forever plagued me. But Mom had been there with me, like a rock. Thankfully the best thing was that I had always known that no matter what, this was not something my mom would ever have disowned me over.

This time I knew exactly what I wanted, and would keep my baby and if that meant shielding the little one from very powerful outside interference, then so be it.

The truck bounced over the rutted roads that led to home. I went with the movement, feeling relaxed for the first time since I’d realised I’d missed my period; things might just work out, I thought.

Mom could potentially look after the baby some of the time while I was out at work, we’d have a quaint life, and it was one I knew I could live with. I could be happy being a single mom, and giving all my love to my precious bundle.

But then I felt a twinge. Deep in my belly. Well, more than a twinge really. In fact it felt more like a knife was slicing through my abdomen.

“Momma,” I said anxiously, clutching at my stomach.

“Penny, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, it hurts so bad.”

I could feel the tears on my cheeks, but could barely get my breath as another pain tore through me. I looked down and saw a red stain spreading out over my jeans.

“Momma, I think it’s the baby. I think I’m losing it!”

She didn’t wait. Spinning the steering wheel, she turned the truck as fast as she could and headed for the hospital. In what seemed like moments I was on an examination table, my legs in stirrups, an ultrasound being taken as I sobbed, my mom clutching my hand tightly as they delivered the awful news.

“Doctor Hawkins, I am so very sorry,” the OB-GYN said as he pulled off his surgical gloves.

“I lost my baby, didn’t I?” I asked knowing what he was going to say.

The doctor nodded, then gave my mom and me some privacy as I wailed, my grief overwhelming me.

“I should’ve come back earlier. As soon as I had my suspicions… oh God, Mom, what have I done? This is all my fault… I’m being punished… The abortion. This is what I get for…”

“Shh, now, it’s not your fault.”

“Please take it back,” I whimpered to no one in particular, “Please, I’ll do anything. I want my baby. Please!”

Tears streamed down my mother’s face then she wrapped me into her arms. “Oh, darling, if I could fix this you know I would.”

We cried together and I hung on tight to her, clutching at her fiercely as my chest heaved.

* * *

In so many ways it seemed like it was for the best, but that didn’t stop the longing or the constant anguish my heart suffered. I felt like I had lost Robert all over again. I knew it was a selfish reason, but I thought, at least having his baby I could have always had a little bit of him with me.

We’d been in the hospital for what seemed like hours and Mom was still holding onto me, she was trying to compose herself. I squeezed back and tried to pin a brave expression onto my face once the initial shock had subsided.

“I’ll be okay,” I said to her, sniffing. But we both knew I wouldn’t be. Mom and I sat in silence, neither of us knew what to say, or what we should do next.

But as I lay there, I couldn’t help feeling like I was cursed. My tiny bit of him, my memento to keep the magical moments we had shared back in Chad was now gone and I would be alone again, would have to watch along with the rest of the world as he married someone else and lived his life in the public eye. I just prayed I would never have to see him again in the flesh—it would be bad enough with all the press flaunting countless photographs of his upcoming wedding. How would I ever be able to face him knowing what I had lost?

They kept me in the hospital for a few days for observation due to my recent trips abroad, but I was itching to be up and about, doing something again, to at least try to move on and close this chapter of my life.

I couldn’t bear the thought of returning to Chad, not after the loss of my baby, where every place I would go would be full of memories of him and I together and the little miracle we had made… Working, laughing, and making love. It would be too much to expect, that I could go about my work and not see the child I had lost in every one of the faces I had to treat.

No, it was time to stay home, and make a new life for myself. But that didn’t mean I knew what on earth to do here. I still had to figure that part out.