he said as he walked up a staircase, “is the main bedroom wing. My bedroom is this one at the end.” He opened a door and she peeked in to see a huge room decorated in strong browns and cream with a forest green wall behind the bed. Being at the end of the wing, it had windows on three sides that showcased amazing panoramic views of the San Juan Capistrano countryside.
He strode back down the hallway to the first room and ushered her in. “This is one of the guest bedrooms. There are three along this hall. I was thinking you could have this one. Then the next room for Meg, and the one beside mine for Bonnie.”
The rooms were sumptuously decorated, each in a different color. The room that was to be hers had been done in lavender and wheat, with a satin comforter on the four-poster bed and a series of beautifully framed close-up shots of purple irises on the wall. It was gorgeous but didn’t seem either Liam’s or Katherine’s style.
She stepped in and ran a hand over the silky bed cover. “Did you choose this color scheme?”
“No, my mother had the house redecorated before she and my father moved out a few years ago.”
She walked into the next room along and turned around. Meg’s new nursery had mint green walls and accents in rose pink. The bed had a multihued knitted blanket, and on the walls was a photo series of bright pink tulips. “We should easily fit Meg’s crib and changing table in here along with the bed.”
“No problem to move the bed out if you want.”
Her eyes were drawn back to the bedcover. “Who knitted the blanket?”
“My mother,” he said, a trace of a smile flitting across his face. “My brothers and I each have several of them.”
“And the flower photos?” she asked, pointing to the tulips.
“They’re mine. I take lots of photos in the greenhouse for records. My mother had some of them framed.”
His tone was dismissive, but these were more than mere record keeping. The way the light had been captured hitting the leaves and the angle chosen to accentuate the shape of the petals were masterful. However, she didn’t think he’d appreciate her pointing that out, so she let it drop.
The room next to his, Bonnie’s nursery, had the same tasteful and elegant feel, but it was full of dark wood and tan walls. Masculine and heavy. Perfect for a male guest, but not so appropriate for a baby girl’s room.
Liam winced and threw her an apologetic glance. “Perhaps you could organize this room to be painted.”
“Absolutely. Any thoughts on color?”
“I’ll leave that to you,” he said, glancing out the window and seemingly distracted. “I’ll organize a credit card—it will make redecorating this room and obtaining ongoing things for Bonnie easier. Though if it’s something regular, like formula or diapers, let Katherine know and she can add it to the grocery order.”
“Okay.”
Bonnie fussed in his arms, and Liam’s eyes suddenly had an edge of panic.
Jenna put Meg on the floor with a rattle from her handbag. “Do you want me to take her?”
“That might be best,” he said and gently handed her over.
Jenna looked down at the sweet little baby and ran her hand over the soft, downy hair. “Her hair is so dark. Like yours, actually. Meg was bald when she was born.”
A smile flittered across his mouth then left. “Bonnie’s hair was how I knew for sure she was mine at the hospital.” Frowning, he threw a glance to the door. “Listen, I know you’ve just arrived, but I need to duck out to the greenhouse. I hadn’t expected to miss work this morning, so there are things I need to check on.”
“No problem,” she said, taking the cue. “You go back to work. We’ll be fine here.”
* * *
It seemed it had only been a couple of hours since she’d given Liam the list when a small truck with a stork emblazoned on the side pulled into the paved circular driveway. Liam had obviously found a place that was willing to deliver immediately. It probably helped that money talked.
Two young men jumped out and, with Meg on her hip, she met them at the front door. Bonnie was asleep in Liam’s room in an old basinet Katherine had found. Since Liam’s room was the farthest away from the rest of the house, she’d put the baby down there for the nap, hoping to not disturb her while they set up the nurseries. “We have a delivery for Liam Hawke,” the older man said.
“You’ve got the right place. Thanks for being so quick.”
“All part of the service,” he said. They walked to the truck, rolled up the back and started to unload. Jenna showed them the way to Bonnie’s nursery. The men assembled the new furniture in the living room and left piles of pastel pink crib sheets, blankets and other supplies stacked on the dining room table. Bonnie was lucky that her every need would be taken care of, that she wouldn’t want for anything—yet, there was something a little sad about all her personal things being delivered like a work order. Nothing had been handpicked by someone who loved her.
Though...had things already been bought for her? Bonnie’s mother must have been prepared for a newborn. Had she lovingly chosen little clothes, searched for and selected a charming crib and linen? Dreamed about playing lullabies as her baby went to sleep? Jenna’s throat felt thick with emotion.
“That’s it,” the delivery man said from behind her. “Mr. Hawke paid over the phone, so I just need you to sign for the delivery.” He handed her a clipboard with some papers attached.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the clipboard then setting Meg down on the carpet.
As she put pen to paper to sign for the order, she hesitated for a moment before remembering her name. Jenna Peters. She’d had the name for more than a year now; surely soon it would become second nature to use it?
But even as she signed the fake name and handed the form back, she knew the truth—she’d always be Princess Jensine Larsen, youngest of the five children of the reigning queen of Larsland. A princess who’d never put a foot wrong in her twenty-three years until she made one mistake big enough to obliterate that record.
She’d become pregnant out of wedlock.
At first the news hadn’t been too bad—she and Alexander were in love and had been planning to marry one day. They’d just have to move the date forward. And tell their families. Their relationship had been a secret—after a life lived in the public eye, she’d just wanted one thing that was hers alone. She grimaced. People always said to be careful what you wish for. Now her entire life was lived in secret.
They’d planned on telling their families when Alexander came home from his latest military deployment. But Alexander hadn’t come home. He’d been killed in the line of duty, leaving her grieving and pregnant, with no chance of salvaging her honor.
She hadn’t been able to tell her parents and face their disappointment. Perhaps worst of all, once the local press found out, it would have tarnished the reputation of the royal family, something she’d been brought up to avoid at all costs. A royal family that had, unlike many of its European neighbors, avoided any hint of scandal in its modern history. The
