Royal Baby (A British Bad Boy Romance) (21 page)

“I renounce my claim to the throne. Also, I’m marrying Keira. I just proposed to her a few minutes ago,” I continued. “Have fun being King one day, Michael, and goodbye to the both of you.”

Without waiting for any response, I turned on my heel and strode out.

Chapter 24

Keira

“I can’t let you do this.”

They were the first words out of my mouth when Andrew filled me in on what had happened with Michael and his mother. I couldn’t believe the sacrifice he’d made for me and our unborn child; couldn’t believe he’d given up his birthright and place in line to the throne, all for the sake of our soon-to-be family.

He really had changed, and while he’d become an amazing man, I still felt incredibly guilty that he’d given up so much for me.

“Are you disappointed that we won’t be living in a castle?” he asked. “That I’m not rich anymore?”

“No, of course not!”

“Didn’t think so. So what’s this ‘I can’t let you’ stuff, then?”

“Well…” I began to speak but got no further. I knew he’d done what he’d done for a good reason, but I still felt awful. I felt responsible for tearing him away from his family, although to be fair, they’d done a lot of that tearing themselves.

“I’ve had a life of people telling me what I’m allowed and not allowed to do,” Andrew said. “Mostly not allowed. And although I mostly didn’t listen to them—even when I should have—I’m sick of it. In fact, I think the reason I spend most of my adult life doing dumb things and getting myself on the front of tabloid newspapers is because there were so many things I wasn’t allowed to do.”

“I’m not telling you what to do,” I said.

“Am I misinterpreting ‘can’t let you’?” Andrew asked, raising his eyebrows. “It’s my decision, Keira. But I’d really like to make it with you.”

“Isn’t it a little late for that? You already renounced your claim as next in line.”

He nodded, acknowledging that this might be the case. “But my point remains: I want us to be equals. I don’t want there to be rules. Or if there are, then they should be rules we arrive at together. I didn’t renounce my family because I had to, I renounced them because I wanted to after all the crap they’ve hurled my way in regards to you…like assuming that you’re nothing more to me than a passing fancy, simply because you don’t come from some sort of high-society aristocratic family, and threatening to go the media and drag you through the mud, just to wreck your life.”

“That was mostly Michael.”

“No, my mother assumed the same thing about you—that it wouldn’t last, simply because of your supposed ‘station’ in life. That’s why she didn’t immediately fire you when I told her about us. Like our relationship was just that much of a joke to her; she couldn’t take it seriously enough to care even for a second. And then she called our baby a bastard. I just couldn’t take that sort of ‘family’ anymore. You and blob,” he pointed at my stomach, “are the only family I need now.”

“We’re not calling the baby blob.”

“There you go with your rules again. Maybe
you
should take my place as King, huh?”

“Very funny,” I said, rolling my eyes and smiling for the first time since he’d told me the shocking news about what had occurred with his family.

“My sense of humor is still just as bad as ever, so you’ll have to accept that,” he said. “Now let’s go off and make a new life together.”

All things considered, that sounded pretty damn good to me.

Chapter 25

Keira

The Palace was more than happy to let me go from my job at short notice; in fact there was a tacit sense that if I hadn’t requested it, I would’ve been fired anyway, for obvious reasons. Some of my effects remained at the old apartment I’d been housed in when I was still working back at Richmond Palace, and so, the following day, Andrew packed the bare essentials of his own belongings into his car, and we made the drive back there.

It was a pleasant journey, but the conversation kept returning to one question: what now? I was delighted that the answer Andrew suggested was the one I’d been thinking myself: America. I had family and friends there, and it was a good place for a fresh start for an ex-royal.

“America is where persecuted Brits traditionally go, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Actually, that story’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Andrew said. “There wasn’t any real persecution at all.”

I shrugged. “Well, once we’re over there, I’d keep that to myself if I were you. People are pretty defensive of their history.”

“Tell me about it,” he replied. “Look at the family I come from.”

“So what do we do, until we can get flights?”

“Shouldn’t be more than a night,” he said. “Two at the most, I guess. We can afford a hotel room for one night, I would think.” Our funds were limited, because Andrew hadn’t wanted to take too much of anything that wasn’t his outright—his money was royal, and he no longer was. “How much does a hotel cost?”

I pulled a face. “I could tell you how much an American hotel costs, but over here I haven’t got a clue. I’m still getting used to your money.”

“We really make a pretty useless pair in many ways,” Andrew said with a grin. “But we’ll survive.”

“Once we get back to the States I can be more useful,” I said “I’ll show you how to be a normal person.”

“I’ll fit right in,” he replied. “I’ve told you before how ‘street’ I am.”

“If you put air quotes around street, you’re not street.”

“Well, if that’s the only thing holding me back, then it’s easily fixed.”

I laughed. The truth was that, however ‘street’ he might fail to be, Andrew would fit in. One thing being royal taught you was to be equally at home amongst anyone and everyone, and Andrew was very personable. That was something his family couldn’t take from him.

“So where did we land on the hotel?”

“We’ll make it work,” Andrew said. “I hear good things about the ‘Travel Lodge’. I mostly hear them from their own adverts, but still. Now, there’s a few bits and pieces I need to pick up from the palace, and it’s on the way, so we’ll drop by there first, before we go to your old apartment.”

“Sure.”

We headed to the palace, and I was delighted to be met by Rogers.

“Valencia,” he said in formal greeting, the corners of his mouth very nearly inflected into a smile.

“Hi, Rogers,” I said with a wide smile.

“Mr. Arlington,” Rogers greeted Andrew. Another man might have stuck to ‘Your Highness’ out of habit or politeness, but that wouldn’t have been good form, and Rogers was all about form.

“Call me Andrew, Rogers,” Andrew said.

“No, thank you,” said Rogers. “First name terms should be mutual.”

“I could call you by your first name.”

“No, thank you.”

“Do you even have a first name?” I asked. I was in oddly high spirits, and seeing the man who had helped me so much in his formal, quiet way was making me slightly giddy.

“I do, Valencia.”

“Keira.”

“No, thank you. First name terms should be mutual.”

“You’re really not going to tell us your first name?”

“Correct,
Miss
Valencia,” said Rogers, allowing that small concession.

“So are my things still in my room here?” Andrew asked.

Rogers shook his head. “I took the liberty of taking your things to Keira’s old apartment, just in case. It was still empty.”

“I see. Well, we’ll go and pick it up, and then I suppose we’ll try to find that hotel.”

Rogers held up a hand. “It occurred to me, Mr. Arlington, that you and Miss Valencia might not yet have settled on your plans for the future. And since neither of you is any longer in gainful employment, you might need a place to stay.”

My mouth opened in surprise. “Wait…you’re letting us stay in the apartment?”

“Precisely.”

Andrew frowned. “Rogers, you could get in serious trouble for that. The apartment is supposed to be for staff only and…”

Rogers held up a hand. He was nearly as good as the Queen with the silencing gesture. “I am aware of that, Mr. Arlington. But I am happy in taking the risk.”

I impulsively hugged Rogers. “Thank you, so much.”

“Glad to be of help, Miss.” It was a sign of how comfortable Rogers was in his chosen way of life that he slipped so easily from me being a member of his staff to me being a guest who needed to be treated as such.

“Thank you, Rogers,” Andrew stuck out a hand, which Rogers took and shook. “I wonder if in the past I’ve…perhaps I’ve not been…”

The hand again brought silence. “Merely a gesture.”

We strolled back to the car, chatting as we went.

“If I may ask,” said Rogers, as conversationally as his formal manner could manage. “What are your plans?”

“We’re going to America,” I said. “The day after tomorrow.”

“Of course,” said Rogers. “I’m sure you will be very happy there. You won’t miss your family?” This was directed at Andrew.

“I think they’ll be glad I’m gone,” Andrew replied. “I’ll generate less gossip on a different continent.”

“Families can be most…” Rogers sought the right word, “excruciating.”

“Mine certainly can.”

“I couldn’t possibly comment,” Rogers said before noticing that we’d finally reached the car. “Well, good luck, Miss Valencia.”

“Thanks, Rogers.”

“Might I have a word before you go, Mr. Arlington?”

Andrew nodded, and he and Rogers stepped away. I strained to hear what passed between them without success, but it seemed an amicable conversation and ended with the two men shaking hands once again.

They returned to the car.

“Goodbye and good luck, you two,” said Rogers.

“You’re really not going to tell us your first name?” I asked, smiling slyly.

Rogers drew a deep breath. “My first name is Lemuel.”

“Lemuel?”

“There is a P. G. Wodehouse story,” Rogers explained, “in which the name features as a joke on the man whose name it is. My father thought it would be funny to emulate that joke. He was wrong.”

“Rogers it is.”

“Thank you, Miss. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Rogers.”

Twenty minutes later, we were in the old apartment, and it was nice to be back there again. It was a place in which I’d been quite happy, and returning to it seemed to neatly top and tail my British adventure. Still, a new adventure beckoned, and Andrew and I were keen for that to begin.

We spent the next day packing and planning, making those important decisions about what to take and what to do when we arrived. Thanks to Rogers, we’d saved some money on accommodation, and that had proved to be just as well as the plane tickets set us back practically all the money we had.

“My family really doesn’t pay its maids enough,” Andrew said, only half joking.

When we arrived, we’d be met by Sarah, and she’d said we could stay with her in my old room until we’d found jobs and a place we could raise a child in. In truth, although we were anxiously looking forward to our new life together, we were also very aware that things were going to be tough. Art historian and ex-prince were not qualifications for which the average employer was searching, and if it had just been about ourselves, then we wouldn’t have worried—we would’ve lived in a van as long as we could be together—but there was a baby to consider and babies were unavoidably expensive.

I couldn’t help reflecting that, until a few days ago, the child currently growing inside me had been second in line to the British crown and would never have to worry about anything its entire life, and now it was being born into nearly nothing. Had Andrew really made the right decision in renouncing his family, if it meant disallowing our child all those opportunities he or she would’ve had if he’d stayed?

On top of these concerns, it was hard for me to ignore the slight change in Andrew. Outwardly, he remained the happy-go-lucky man I’d always known—loving, attentive, and eager for our future together. But every now and then, I would catch him in moments of atypical introspection, staring out windows or into space. I didn’t ask him about this, because I didn’t need to. I knew exactly what it was about.

To this point in his life, Andrew’s future had been a given, and now everything he had ever known had been thrown out and replaced with uncertainty. It was exciting for him, but it was also scary. But that was only part of it. The larger part was his family. He had never been particularly close to his family; he didn’t get on with his brother and there was an unavoidable distance between him and his mother. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t love them, and perhaps he’d underestimated the effect that cutting them out of his life would have upon him. Though he tried to hide it, I also knew that he was hurt by their apparent acceptance of his decision. They didn’t seem to have tried to find him and change his mind.

At all.

His mind was made up, but it would’ve been nice to think that they cared, if not about the future of the throne, then about him and about our baby. For all our happiness in being together and the prospect of becoming parents and starting a new life together, there were also moments when I wrestled with what I’d inadvertently made him give up. Not the crown or any other aspect of his royal future—he seemed pretty sanguine about letting that go—but his family.

But there wasn’t much time for such contemplation. Early the next morning, we loaded our bags into Andrew’s car and set off for the airport. Our goodbyes were all said. I’d phoned Rogers the night before to tell him of our plans and let him know that the apartment would be free once more, and then I’d thanked him again for all his help.

“I always have my staff’s best interests at heart,” Rogers had replied. It seemed like a somewhat cryptic response, but then again, Rogers had always been a man whom I liked but didn’t really understand.

It was a long drive to the airport, and I’d initially worried that it would be a somber one, because there was a lot on the horizon to worry about. But instead, we both found ourselves happy and chatty, making lists of stuff we wanted to do and see when we got to America. The journey passed swiftly, and we arrived at the airport to check-in for our flight in good time.

“Is it me, or is it unusually quiet here?” I asked, peering around.

“I wouldn’t really know,” Andrew admitted. He’d always flown by private jet, for obvious reasons. “But based on pictures I’ve seen on the news and so on, we do seem to have picked a good time to travel.”

That was an understatement; the place was as good as deserted. I remembered the bustle and squash when I’d first arrived in London, and the sheer number of people all trying to get where they were going—and this didn’t even feel like the same building. We’d picked an early flight, so perhaps we were getting in ahead of the tourists, but even so, that didn’t seem reason enough for the concourse to be the ghost town it was.

“Could there be a strike that we didn’t know about?” I asked.

“I don’t think that’s it.” Andrew’s gaze had been drawn across the concourse to a small group of people now approaching; practically the only ones there. “I can’t believe she’s done this.”

I stared. The black suited men walking in our direction could’ve been anyone—they looked as if nature had designed them for anonymity—but there was no mistaking the figure in the middle for anyone else.

“She closed down the airport?” I gasped as the Queen drew closer, walking with a measured step. “Just to stop us from leaving?”

“Of course not.” The Queen apparently had better hearing than I thought. Or maybe she could read lips—it was strange the talents one acquired as Queen of England. “Some things have been moved about. This terminal, that terminal; nothing too drastic. No one will miss their flight, they just might have to walk a bit further to reach it. Now,” she smiled thinly, “how are you both?”

“How did you know we’d be here?” Andrew asked, his eyes narrowed. “And when?”

“I told you when you were little,” the Queen said, “I
always
know what you’re up to.”

“That worked when I was five, it doesn’t work now.”

“And yet here I am.”

I said nothing, but I had a pretty good idea how the Queen had found out. Rogers’ cryptic statement about having my ‘best interests at heart’ now came into clearer focus. But how was this ambush in my best interests? Unless Rogers knew something that we didn’t. I found myself starting to consider the Queen’s dramatic appearance here in a new light.

“You can’t stop us,” Andrew said, his voice steely. “Well, maybe you can today. But there’s always tomorrow. You can’t watch us all the time, and we’ll just keep trying. We’re not going to give up on our future and we’re not going to give up on each other, no matter how much you try to make us.”