The Royal House of Niroli Collection. Кейт Хьюит

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      ‘Because of our baby? Because he might not be perfect? Because you’re ashamed of him, and you and your grandfather don’t want him associated with Niroli?’

      ‘What? Ashamed of him? You wouldn’t be more wrong. If there’s anyone I’m ashamed of, it’s myself for taking so long to recognise what really matters to me. Or perhaps I did recognise it, but tried to pretend that I didn’t. Emily, when you were having your scan and I saw our baby, I knew beyond any kind of doubt that you and he are the most important things in the world to me, and that nothing could ever or would ever matter more. Actually, I think I knew a little of that when I first came to Niroli and I missed you so much I had to come back for you. I certainly knew it when you told me you were pregnant and all I could think of was finding a way to keep you with me. I couldn’t and wouldn’t accept that it wasn’t possible for me to be King and to have you and our child. And then you told me why you were pleased that our child would never be King, and it was as though you had unlocked a door inside me. Behind it lay the memories of my own childhood, my parents’ constant battles with my grandfather to provide me with a normal childhood, my own sense of aloneness because of what I was, and I knew unequivocally that you were right not to want that for our child.’

      ‘But you wanted to be King! You had so many plans, there was so much you wanted to do—you can’t give that up.’

      ‘I don’t intend to. I can still do all those things without being King. In fact I can do them more easily. My grandfather would never really release the reins of government to me, and the hostility between us and the constant fight for supremacy would not aid our people. I can do far more outside the constraints of kingship, and I can do those things with you at my side. I love you, Emily.’

      There was so much she wanted to say, so many questions, so many reminders to him of times when he had not seemed to love her at all. But, somehow, she was in his arms and he was kissing her with a fierce, demanding passion that said more clearly than any amount of words what he truly felt.

      ‘I still can’t believe this is happening,’ Emily whispered to Marco half an hour later. She was still in his arms, only now they were upstairs in her bedroom, lying side by side in her bed. The way Marco had controlled his need to possess her, been gentle to protect their child, had brought emotional tears to her eyes and flooded her heart with the love for him she had dammed up for so long.

      ‘You want me to convince you?’ Marco teased her suggestively, his hand cupping her breast.

      ‘Maybe,’ she agreed mock-demurely.

      His, ‘Right, come on then, let’s get dressed,’ wasn’t the response she had been expecting and her chagrin showed, making him laugh.

      ‘We’re going shopping,’ he told her. ‘For a wedding ring and a marriage licence.’

      When her eyes rounded, he pointed out, ‘You said you wanted me to convince you. I can’t think of a better way to do that than marrying you, just as soon as we can arrange it.’

      ‘Oh, Marco. Shouldn’t we wait to make plans until after the scan?’

      ‘Why? The potential severity of our baby’s heart defect doesn’t make any difference to my feelings for you or for him. You suggested earlier that I might be ashamed of our baby for not being perfect. That could never happen. He will be perfect to me, Emily, because he is ours, perfect in every way, no matter what.’

      ‘Oh, don’t,’ Emily protested. ‘You’ll make me cry all over again.’

      ‘And then I’ll have to kiss you all over again,’ Marco said, pretending to give a weary sigh, but smiling whilst he did so.

      ‘Well, then, let’s have a look. It’s been a few weeks since we did your last scan, and that will have given your baby a chance to grow and us the chance to get a better idea of what’s going on. As I told you at your first consultation with me, these days, in-utero surgery means that we can do so very much more than we once could. Even with the most severe cases.’

      Emily felt Marco squeezing her hand, but she dared not look at him just in case she broke down.

      These last weeks since their initial appointment with the neo-natal heart consultant had seemed so long, despite the fact that they had managed to squeeze getting married into them, along with a flying visit to Niroli, where Marco’s grandfather had very graciously welcomed her formally into the family. Marco had also brought his grandfather up to date with his plans to establish the charity he had promised during his abdication speech.

      New scans had been done, and now they were waiting anxiously for the specialist’s opinion.

      ‘However, in the case of your baby, I don’t consider that an operation would be appropriate.’

      Emily gave a small moan of despair. Was he saying there was no hope? ‘What exactly is our baby’s prognosis?’ Marco’s voice wasn’t quite as level as normal, and Emily could hear the uncertainty in it.

      ‘Very good. Excellent, in fact,’ the specialist told them, smiling. ‘There is a small area that we shall need to keep an eye on, but if anything it seems to be healing itself—something we do see with this condition. Sometimes babies will grow in stops and starts, and this leads us to make diagnoses we later have to amend. That is what has happened here. Initially, it did look as though your baby’s heart might not be developing properly, but these latest scans show that everything is just as it should be.’

      ‘Are you sure?’ Emily asked anxiously. ‘I mean, should I have another scan in a week or two? What if—?’

      ‘I am perfectly sure. In fact, I was pretty sure when you first came to see me, but I wanted to wait and see how things went before I said anything, which is why I wanted to do this last scan. Of course, I am going to recommend that we continue to monitor the situation, just to be on the safe side, but my view is that there is nothing for you to worry about. Your baby is perfectly healthy and developing normally.’

      Outside on the street, oblivious to the amused looks of passers-by, Marco held Emily close and tenderly kissed the tears from her face.

      ‘I can’t believe it,’ she whispered to him. ‘Oh, Marco. It’s like a miracle.’

      ‘You are my miracle, Emily,’ Marco told her softly. ‘You and our child, and the future we are going to share.’

      ‘How has the king taken things?’

      ‘Not as badly as we might have feared.’ The senior courtier was well versed in tact and diplomacy, and he had no intention of telling the junior aide anything about the extraordinary scene he had just witnessed in the Royal Chamber, when the king had stopped in mid-rant about the stupidity of his grandson and heir to stare at the report he had just been handed, about an Australian surgeon who was pioneering a new treatment for the heart condition from which the king himself suffered.

      On the face of it, there had been nothing in the grainy photograph and short biography of the young Australian to cause such a reaction. But the senior courtier had been in service at the palace for a very long time and when the king had handed the report to him in an expectant silence he, too, had seen the same thing that the king had seen.

      ‘I want that young man brought here, and I want him brought here now,’ the king had instructed….

      PENNY JORDAN

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