His Forbidden Pregnant Princess Page 6

  Another tear splashed onto her hand.

  Was that why she was doing this? Was that why she was going through with the engagement? Because she wanted him to stop it?

  That was so wholly childish and ridiculous.

  And yet she had a feeling she might be just that ridiculous and childish.

  The door to the dressing room opened, and the designer and her mother breezed inside at the same time. Her mother was holding the dress, contained in a plastic zip-up bag, and the designer was carrying a kit.

  “Let’s help you get this on,” the woman said briskly.

  Sophia’s mother unzipped the bag and helped Sophia pull the dress over her head as the designer instructed. There was much pinning and fussing and exclamation, and Sophia tried very hard to match those sounds.

  “Are you okay?” her mother asked as the designer was down on her hands and knees pinning the hem of the gown.

  “I’m...overwhelmed.” She figured she would go for some form of honesty. It was better than pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t, and her mom wasn’t going to accept that as an answer.

  “It is understandable. This wedding has come together very quickly.”

  “It’s what Luca wants.”

  “I see.”

  “It’s what Father wanted.”

  “And what do you want, Sophia? Because as much as I loved your stepfather, and as much as I know he had your best interests at heart...I didn’t marry him because I wanted to be queen. I didn’t marry him for money, or status. I married him because I loved him. And I want nothing less for you. I understand that he did this because it is what he would have done for his biological daughter if he’d had one. You are not from this world. And you don’t have to comply to the dictates of it if you don’t wish to.”

  What was the alternative? Living life with Luca glowering down at her. Wanting him. Watching him get married and have children...

  Well, it was that or cutting herself off from her family altogether.

  For a moment she stood adrift in that fantasy. Blowing in a breeze where she was tied to nothing and no one. It made her feel empty, hollow. Terrified.

  But at least it didn’t hurt.

  “I want this,” she said, resolute. “It’s the right thing. And he’s a very nice man.”

  Her mother sighed heavily. “I’m sure that he is.”

  “You know that Luca wouldn’t allow this if he wasn’t suitable. If he wasn’t good.”

  “Certainly not,” she said. “I know Luca would never allow any harm to come to you. Not physical harm, anyway.”

  Sophia gritted her teeth, wondering, not for the first time, if her mother suspected that there was something between Luca and herself. If she did, she was not saying anything. Resolutely so.

  And Sophia certainly wasn’t going to say anything.

  She looked down and kicked the heavy skirt of her dress out of the way, and then she straightened, looking at herself in the mirror. Suddenly, she felt dizzy, wobbling slightly as she took in the sight of herself wearing a wedding gown. A wedding gown.

  She felt ill.

  “Excuse me,” she said, clamoring down from the stepstool and dashing into the adjoining bathroom, slamming the door behind her as she collapsed onto her knees and cast up her accounts into the toilet.

  She braced herself, shaking and sweating, breathing hard. She had never been sick like that. So abruptly.

  She felt terrible. Throwing up hadn’t helped.

  She pushed herself up, afraid that she had damaged the gown, but it looked intact.

  There was a heavy, sharp knock on the door. “Sophia?” It was her mother. Worried, obviously.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little bit...nauseated.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Okay.”

  The door opened and her mother slipped inside, her expression full of concern. “Are you ill?”

  “I wasn’t,” Sophia said.

  “You just suddenly started to feel sick?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sophia...” Her mother looked at her speculatively, “forgive me if this is intrusive... Is it possible that you... Are you pregnant?”

  The tentative grasp that Sophia had on the ground beneath her gave way. And she found herself crumbling to the floor again.

  “Sophia?”

  “I...”

  “Are you pregnant?” her mother asked.

  “It’s possible,” she said.

  “I suppose the good thing is that the wedding is soon,” she said, bending down and grabbing hold of Sophia’s chin, her matching dark gaze searching Sophia’s. “Are you happy?”

  “I’m scared,” Sophia said.

  She couldn’t organize her thoughts. She was late. It was true. She hadn’t given it much thought because she had been stressed out with planning the wedding. But she was quite late. And she and Luca had not used a condom that night.

  One time.

  She’d had sex one time.

  With the last man on earth she should have ever been with, and she had gotten pregnant. What were the odds of that happening?

  Of course, now she was engaged to another man, a man whose baby it couldn’t possibly be, because she had never even kissed him.

  But there was going to be a wedding. Invitations had been sent out. Announcements had been made. She was being fitted for a dress.

  “Of course you are,” her mother said. “It’s a terrifying thing facing a change like this. But wonderful.” She put her hand on Sophia’s face. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Sophia.”

  Sophia tried to smile. “I hope I’ll be even half as good a mother as you have been to me.”

  “You will be.”

  “I wish I had such confidence.”

  “You will have help from your husband,” her mother said. “I didn’t have any help. It will be so nice for you to start with more in life than we had.”

  Sophia’s mouth felt dry as chalk. How could she tell her mother that it wasn’t her fiancé’s baby?

  That it was Luca’s.

  She couldn’t. So she didn’t. Instead, she let her mother talk excitedly about the wedding, about being a grandmother. Instead, she went outside and finished the fitting.

  When it was over, she walked down the empty halls of the palace, back in her simple shift dress she had been wearing earlier. Then she pushed the door to her bedroom open. She looked around. At this beautiful spectacular bedroom that it was still difficult to believe belonged to her.

  She stumbled over to her bed, a glorious, canopied creation with frothy netting and an excess of pillows.

  Then she lay across that bed and she wept. She wept like her heart was breaking.

  Because it was.

  And she had no idea what to do about it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ULTIMATELY, SOPHIA FELT it was wisest to procure a test through the official palace physician. The princess was hardly going to go to a drugstore to acquire a pregnancy test. It would be foolish. Things like that could never stay secret, not for long. Not in a media-hungry society, always looking for scandal.

  One of the many things she’d had to learn, because it wasn’t ingrained. That anyone would be interested in the life and times of a girl like her. But they were now. Because of who her mother had married.

  Because of who she was, all thanks to a piece of paper. Nothing more.

  Oftentimes, she appreciated what had come from that marriage.

  This was one of the times she appreciated it less.

  Fortunately, she trusted the woman that she had seen for years, recommended to her by palace staff. And she knew that her confidentiality was in fact one of the most important parts of her role as the physician to all members of the royal family, and palace st
aff.

  Unfortunately, no matter how good the doctor was, she could not change the test results with skill.

  Sophia paced back and forth while she waited. She knew pregnancy tests didn’t take that long. Still, the doctor was certainly taking her time in the makeshift lab, AKA, Sophia’s en-suite bathroom.

  When the door finally did open, the doctor looked blank. Sophia couldn’t read a plus or negative sign on the woman’s face. “The test is positive,” she said. “Congratulations.”

  Sophia didn’t want to be congratulated. Why should she be? She’d made a massive mistake and put everything Luca believed in in jeopardy. She was risking public embarrassment, wasted money on a wedding...she...she deserved something. But it wasn’t congratulations.

  “Thank you,” Sophia said, instead of any of the things she was thinking. “The wedding is soon at least, so all will be sorted.”

  Except, she had no idea how to sort it out. This wedding was happening. All of the moving parts were at critical mass.

  Tomorrow. The wedding was tomorrow. People were coming from all over to attend.

  She was going to have to go to him. She was going to have to see Erik and let him know exactly what transpired. Likely, he would want to break it off. But it was entirely possible that...

  She had no idea what she was supposed to do. Was she going to hide Luca’s child from him? And what would he think? There was no way he would believe that she had immediately gone to bed with another man. He would know the child was his.

  Would he?

  It was entirely possible she could convince him she had played the role of harlot. That she had gone straight from Luca, on a garden bench, to Erik’s bed.

  But Erik was blond, while Luca was dark, darker than she was. The child would not look like Erik.

  “I just need some time alone,” Sophia said finally. “That’s all I need.”

  The doctor nodded, collecting things and leaving Sophia in her bedroom. Leading her to solve a problem that might well be utterly and completely unsolvable.

  She walked over to the closet and opened it up, letting her hands drift over the silk fabric of the wedding gown that was hanging there.

  She was carrying Luca’s baby. And she was supposed to walk toward another man tomorrow and say vows to him. Promise to love him, stay with him forever. She was supposed to have her wedding night with him.

  A violent wave of nausea rolled over her.

  She had been lying to herself this entire time. Thinking that she could do this. Thinking that she could be with another man. That she could make all of her feelings for Luca go away if she only tried hard enough. That if she replaced him in her bed she could replace him in her heart, but she didn’t know how that could possibly be.

  She swallowed hard, her throat dry. There was no going back. Not now.

  There couldn’t be. There was so much riding on this. Luca was right. Deals had already been made with Erik regarding his holdings, based on this marriage. Luca’s reputation...in the eyes of the people, of the world, it mattered.

  San Gennaro’s reputation depended on Luca’s. And...this could potentially compromise that.

  And she had to think of that.

  It had nothing to do with her being afraid. With her feeling raw and wounded. Nothing at all. It was the greater good. Not...not the fact that thinking of Luca hurt.

  Yes, Erik she was going to have to talk to. Because she owed her future husband honesty if nothing else.

  Luca...

  She had a feeling it would not be a kindness to give him honesty.

  Her head throbbed, her entire body feeling wrung out. She knew that her logic was fallible at best. She knew that she was wrong in so many ways, but she couldn’t untangle it all to figure it out.

  She picked up the phone, and she dialed the number she needed to call most.

  “Hello?”

  “Erik,” she said, not sure if she was relieved or terrified that he’d answered. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “You are not running out on the wedding, are you?”

  “You might. When you hear what I have to say.” She swallowed. “I’m pregnant.”

  There was nothing but silence for a moment.

  “Well,” he said, his tone grim. “We both know it isn’t mine.”

  “Yes. We do. But...no one else has to know that. It would be for the best if the baby’s father didn’t know. And I can’t have anyone... I can’t have anyone knowing.” She tightened her hold on her phone, her heart hammering so hard she could scarcely hear herself speak. “But only if that... If it doesn’t offend you in some way.”

  “I cannot say I’m pleased about it. Though I appreciate the fact that you did not try to pass it off as mine.”

  “I wouldn’t have done that,” she said quickly. “Before we get married, you have to know the truth.”

  “Whose is it?” he asked.

  She hesitated. “I cannot give you that truth. That’s the one thing I can’t tell. Trust me on this one thing. I know I made a mistake, but I told you this much. I’m not trying to trick you.”

  “I see,” he said, his tone brave. “You didn’t know you were pregnant before now?”

  “I swear I didn’t.”

  There was a long pause, silence settling over her, over the room, the furniture groaning beneath its weight.

  “It is too late to turn back,” he said at last. “I require this union with your country. The alliance and the agreements that were promised to me... I want to see them honored. And if we were to cancel the wedding at such a late date the resulting scandal would be a serious issue.”

  “Yes,” she replied, her lips numb. “That is my feeling on it, as well.”

  “Then we will go ahead with the wedding.”

  She must have agreed, but she couldn’t remember what she said the moment after she’d spoken the words.

  Sophia hung up the phone, not feeling any sense of relief at all. She curled up into a ball on the bed as hopelessness washed through her. Tomorrow it would be finished. It would finally be over.

  Except, it never would be. Because whatever the world believed, whatever anyone knew...

  The child in her womb was Luca’s. A part of him. A part of her. The evidence of their passion, of her love. A bright and shining thing that she would never be able to ignore.

  But Luca had been clear. There can be no scandal. She would not subject their child to that. She would not subject him to it.

  And so she would have to subject herself to this.

  For the second night in a row, Sophia cried herself to sleep.

  * * *

  The morning of the wedding dawned bright and clear, and Sophia awoke feeling damaged. Empty.

  Except she wasn’t empty. She was carrying Luca’s child.

  That fact kept rolling through her mind on a reel all while her hair was fixed, her makeup done, her gown given its final fittings.

  Her mother looked at her with shining eyes, pride in them. Misplaced.

  So badly misplaced.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Nervous,” she said honestly.

  It echoed the exchange they’d had during the fitting. But it was all the more real now. Her tongue tasted like metal, her whole body like a leaden weight.

  “Did you take a test?” her mother asked.

  “Yes,” Sophia said.

  “And?”

  “It’s positive,” Sophia returned. “I’m having a baby.”

  Her mother held her for a long time before letting her go finally. “Have you told Erik?”

  “Yes.”

  If her mother thought something was amiss—and Sophia thought she might—the other woman said nothing. Instead, they continued readying themselves for the ceremony. Then, a half hour before
everything was set to begin, Sophia was ushered into a private room where no one could see her. Where the big reveal of the bride would be preserved.

  It was dark in there. Quiet. The first moment of reflection she’d had all day. Her veil added an extra layer of insulation against reality. And gave her too much time to think.

  She resented it. She didn’t want to reflect on anything. She wanted all of this to be over.

  She wanted it done, so that there was no going back. She wanted her wedding night done.

  Wanted that moment to pass so that Luca would no longer be the only one who’d had claim on her body. So that perhaps she could start building some sort of bond with Erik.

  As if you believe that will work.

  She had to. What other choice did she have? Tell her stepbrother she was having his baby? A stepbrother who didn’t seem to want her as more than a physical diversion? Even if it wasn’t for the potential scandal...

  Luca had been more than willing to send her straight to the arms of another man out of his sense of duty, after taking her virginity in an open space where anyone could have caught them.

  Yes, on some deep level she felt this was a betrayal of Luca, but she felt as if he had betrayed her first.

  He had made no move to stop this wedding. None at all. He was truly going to let her marry another man.

  Then she realized that all this time she had been hoping he would stop it. That he would step in. He said he could not stand to have another man touch her, as he had done the night of the ball.

  In the end she had hoped, beyond reason, beyond anything, that he would make this stop.

  But he had not.

  The realization was like a hot iron through her chest. What a fool she was. She’d been clinging to hope, even now. Hope was why she was here. Because she kept imagining...

  She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear streaming down her cheek.

  She would be damned if she would go crawling to him. Confess to him she was pregnant with his child when he had already made it clear he did not want her.

  And perhaps it was wrong. Perhaps she had no right to those feelings.

  Perhaps, as the father, regardless of the fallout, he should be made aware of the baby.