Great!

There were no answers. He could only take one step at a time-settle back at Renouys and wait.

And even that wasn’t easy. The pressure was on for him to return to the palace.

‘You should be here,’ Dominic told him when he phoned to see how the staff were getting on. ‘You know the whole of Broitenburg wants the royal family to live in residence. You’re the state figurehead. You should be here.’

‘Henry’s the state figurehead,’ Marc growled. ‘And he’s too young to live in that damned pile by himself.’

‘You’re the Prince Regent,’ Dominic reminded him. ‘Like it or not, you’re the person everyone wants to see here. The people want you settled, with a family, in the palace where you belong.’

‘I’m settled with Henry right here.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘You know damned well that I have no intention of getting married. Or living in that royal rabbit warren…’

‘Whatever you say, sir,’ Dominic said gently-and he set down the phone before Marc could say a word.


He was going crazy. Another week went past and then another. The press were screaming for a photo-shoot in the grounds of the palace-Henry back where he belonged. Marc delayed it for as long as he could, but finally had to concede. So they stood in the Broitenburg palace gardens while Henry beamed at every photographer as if he was a personal friend. He chortled and chuckled, he offered his teddy for photographers to inspect, and generally behaved as if he was born to stand in the front of the camera.

‘Can we pop him down on the grass and let him crawl?’ one of the photographers asked, and Marc obliged. But Henry was intent on practising his new skill, which was hauling himself to his feet and standing upright unsteadily by Marc’s side. He could just balance…

‘He could so easily be your son,’ one of the photographers said, wondering at the look on Marc’s face. ‘You look like you love him.’

‘He’s a great kid,’ Marc told them, unable to keep the pride from his face, and the photographers snapped on, entranced.

‘We hear you’re making the association official?’

‘I’m hoping to eventually adopt him, yes.’

‘All we need here is a mother…’ one of the journalists said softly, and Marc’s lips tightened. And then he felt the pressure ease from his leg. He looked down, expecting to see Henry plump down onto his bottom.

But Henry did no such thing. He’d released Marc’s trouser leg and was intent on the next step, but first he had to check he had an audience. This was a baby with style!

He gazed up into his cousin’s face-he gave him a huge grin-and took the very first tottering step of his life. He stepped. He balanced for an interminable moment while the Broitenburg press corps held its collective breath. Then he took one more step for effect before he sat down bump on the grass, deeply satisfied with what he’d achieved.

It was such a moment! Journalists and photographers were cheering and laughing, and Marc was staring down at his tiny charge in stupefaction. Such magic!

She should have been here to share it, he thought savagely, the knowledge of what she was missing hitting him like a thunderbolt. And the knowledge of what she’d given him.

She’d given him this. Tammy knew the joy such a moment would bring and she’d walked away. She’d given it to him.

The sensation was almost overwhelming. He hadn’t seen it until now. He’d been a blind, stupid fool.

She hadn’t wanted to go. Of course she hadn’t. She’d brought up Lara almost by herself. She knew the hurt such loving could bring but she’d also known the joy. She’d known that in time he’d feel like this-so proud he could burst.

It was a gift that was so precious it took his breath away. Up until now he’d sworn not to love, but he hadn’t known what he was doing. He hadn’t known what love was.

Tammy had known-and what deeper love to have her walk away-gifting love to him?

Tammy…


‘Tammy?’

‘Mother?’

Tammy had been back in Australia for more than a month. An interminable time. Broitenburg was half a world away. She was back sleeping under the stars as she worked again in the wilderness, and the call on her cellphone late at night made her feel more confused than ever.

‘I need to speak to you.’ Her mother’s voice was harsh and angry and Tammy came instantly awake.

‘Is something wrong?’

It’s Henry, she thought. There hadn’t been a minute since she’d left that she hadn’t thought about Henry-or his big dark cousin.

She’d heard nothing. The temptation to contact Dominic or Mrs Burchett had been almost irresistible, but she meant to continue as she’d started.

She’d trust Henry with Marc. She must.

So why was her mother ringing?

‘Do you know the trouble I had to get your phone number?’ her mother was demanding, and Tammy thought about it. That question, at least, was easy.

‘No,’ Tammy said bleakly. ‘I don’t. I gave this number to you years ago and you’ve never rung until now. Even when Lara died you didn’t use it.’

‘So I lost it,’ her mother snapped. ‘But now…’

‘Now?’ A cold dread was creeping round her heart. Had something happened? If something happened to Henry they’d probably contact her mother. Marc would contact her mother. Of course he would.

Why should he contact her?

‘Have you seen the papers?’

The dread deepened. ‘What papers?’ Tammy flicked on her torch and checked her watch. Eleven p.m. Not so late then-for her mother. It was only to the likes of Tammy who rose at dawn that eleven o’clock seemed late.

‘He’s planning on adopting Henry.’

‘Who…?’

‘That Prince Marc.’ Her mother’s voice was practically vitriolic. ‘He’s wants to adopt Henry without even a by your leave. I’m the child’s grandmother. It’s plastered all over the News of the World-Eligible playboy planning to adopt Heir to Throne. There’s even a picture of him, looking for all the world as if he cares.’

‘And does he?’ A rush of pure pleasure surged through Tammy’s body and she felt herself grinning like a fool. Looking for all the world as if he cares…

‘Who the hell knows if he cares or not? That’s not the point. I’ve had journalists here trying to get a comment. A comment. From me! I tell you, Tammy, I want more than a damned comment. I rang a lawyer here and he says there’s nothing I can do, but there has to be something. I mean, if he wants the kid so much there should be a payment of some sort. Anyway, the lawyer says you’re his legal guardian. If he wants to adopt he’ll have to send you papers to sign. So you can…’

‘I can what?’

‘Demand your rights.’

Tammy thought about it, trying to see where her mother was coming from. And she knew. Of course she knew. ‘You mean money?’

‘Of course I mean money.’

‘There are other rights besides money,’ she said slowly, switching off her torch and settling back into the dark while she let her mother’s words sink in. ‘Yes, I have rights to Henry, but I gave them to Marc willingly. I don’t…I don’t want them back.’

There was an indrawn breath and then a long silence. Communication between mother and daughter had always been thus. Tammy knew exactly what her mother wanted, and by now Isobelle knew exactly what her daughter’s reply would be.

‘You’re a fool,’ Isobelle said at last, and Tammy nodded into the dark.

‘Maybe. It’s what you’ve always called me.’

‘If you’d played your cards right…’

‘I could have stayed at the palace in Broitenburg and done nothing at all for the rest of my life.’ While I loved Marc hopelessly from the sidelines, she added silently to herself. There was no way her mother would hear that. It was a comment for Tammy’s heart alone.

‘This is a waste of time. You deserve to die a spinster with your blasted trees,’ her mother hissed, and Tammy ended the conversation without saying another word.

But she couldn’t go back to sleep.

After a while she rose and climbed into her little truck and drove the half-hour into town to the all-night service station. There on the magazine rack was what she was searching for-the latest edition of the News of the World. She bought herself a coffee and took herself out to the cab of her truck to read it.

It was after midnight now. Apart from the gangly youth holding up the counter in the service station, no one was awake but her. The coffee was warm between her hands, but she found herself shivering as she turned the pages.

And there they were, splashed across page three. It was a lovely, lovely photograph of Marc holding a laughing Henry. The pair looked supremely happy with each other. They looked…at peace.

‘I’ve done the right thing by both of them. I have.’ But she found she was crying, tears slipping helplessly down her face while she stared sightlessly at the photograph and thought of what she’d thrown away.

But she hadn’t thrown it away. What she so desperately wanted had never been offered. What had been offered was a series of one-day access to Henry followed by one day of isolation. It would have been a disrupted upbringing for Henry-and Marc didn’t come into the equation at all.

Or complete isolation. Sole guardianship of Henry with Marc not coming close.

‘At least this way Henry’s safe. And Marc…he’s softened. He’ll love him to bits.’

Her coffee was growing cold but she stared on, thinking of the lonely little tent waiting for her back in the clearing. She’d made her choice. It was the right choice-but she’d never felt so lonely in all her life.

Marc…


Tammy was up a tree when royalty arrived.

It wasn’t the same tree as the last time Marc had arrived, but it might have been. She was thirty feet up a magnificent eucalypt, and she might as well have been alone in the world. There was Tammy and her tree and no one else.