Confessing her pregnancy was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Until she placed Scottie in Trent’s arms to raise her on his own. Then they vanished from her life and left a wound she had yet to heal.
Last night, watching that uppity blonde Ms. Parker tellherstory, HRH Queen Catherine Amelia Louisa Charlotte, her whole life came screaming into focus. By the end she was angry she’d not dealt with this long ago.
Monday morning broke with rain, but for Catherine II, Regent, freedom beamed its brilliant light through her soul.
The secret was out. The burden she’d carried for so many years, lifted. Even the little pains in her back were gone. Was it any wonder?
Shoving her musings aside, she sat up, kissed her sleeping husband and wrapped up in her robe. The secret had locked her down, limited her ability to love. Because if she loved a hundred percent, Edric would’ve stumbled upon what she never wanted him to know.
How modern she thought she was in the ’80s—but a baby out of wedlock came with a stigma. A royal baby shook governments. She should’ve just gone public. Endured the criticism and backlash. But the king insisted they deal with the matter quietly and discretely.
Escaping to the conservatory where the rain beat a steady rhythm against the tile roof and large windows, Catherine lit the gas heater on her way to the front right corner. Pulling back the carpet, she knocked on a loose floorboard and reached inside for the small photo book where she kept three baby pictures in the plastic sleeves.
John, Augustus…and Scottie.
Curled under a blanket in a wide, mohair chair, she turned on the lamp and studied their sweet baby faces.
Three babies in four years. She developed a soul of steel to manage it all. Scottie’s baby picture was the only one she possessed until Trent sent her a photo of “our” girl a few months before her sixteenth birthday—which was a big deal in America.
The image of the beautiful young woman she’d given life to but did not know had sliced her heart, and she’d retreated to weep in private. That’s when she discovered poor Daffy Caron in her dressing room in the blue gown.
Catherine looked between the photo of Scottie and John. Now that the truth stood in the light, she could see the similarities in her children’s cherub faces. Scottie and John had the same eyes. She shared a chin with Gus. Minus the whiskers.
“It’s cold in here.” Edric wandered in with a shock of dark bedhead, his hands tuck in his robe pockets.
“I just lit the heater.”
He perched on the edge of the couch with a sigh. “Another rainy day. I was hoping to hike.”
“The meteorologist assured us the weather will clear by midday.”
He smiled. But not much. “What’s in your hand?”
Catherine snapped the photo book to her breast, so used to hiding the truth. After a moment she offered it to her husband. “Baby photos. All three.”
“She’s a pretty little thing.” He glanced at Catherine. “Is this your only one?”
“Until right before she turned sixteen. I’d asked Trent not to send me anything. No photos, updates, or anecdotes. We’d made our decision, and playing long-distance Mum would only cause me to doubt.”
When she met Edric, she’d told him of Trent. The one-paragraph version. “There was a chap. I loved him, but he went back to America.”
“The boys seemed to take it in stride,” Edric said, handing back the photos. “John’s worried about succession, though I wonder if he’s not a bit relieved. He has an out, should he want one.”
“Why would he? He’s been raised and trained for this. Holland will be the perfect partner. Besides, I determined the patent letters. He is my successor. If he wants out, Gus is next up.”
Edric moved to the window. “Do you want to see her?” He spoke to the glass, not his wife.
“The question is, does she want to see me? I couldn’t tell from Leslie Ann’s story if Scottie even knows.” She nor Trent made an on-camera appearance. “If so, this must be terribly unsettling for her.”
“What about him? Trent.”
“Do I want to see him? Not particularly.”
Edric returned to the couch. “Why didn’t you ever tell me, Kate?”
“To let her go, I had to let itallgo. I felt I was doing what was best for her, for the Family—”
“All hail the House of Blue.”
