The King's Daughter (High Born Book 1) (26 page)

“Have you spoken to him?” Jane asks.

“No, I ran away,” I admit.

“You should speak with him, find more information and get to know more about the situation.” Jane suggests.

“Why?” I ask her. “James is in the wrong.”

Jane nod, “Yes, but he might have had a relationship with the mother and she could have been in a hard place.”

“Are you defending them?” I ask. “Do you feel sorry for me at all?”

“Of course I do!” Jane seems shocked by my outburst. “How can you say that?”

“I have just found out that James has a secret child, after I have married him and you keep trying to defend James and his whore,” I hate thinking about James with any other girl or woman.

“Do not call her that, you do not know who she is,” Jane argues.

“And you do?” I ask, surprised by how the way she is reacting to this.

“No of course I do not,” Jane takes a deep breath to calm herself and I follow her lead. “I just, feel bad for the girl is all.”

“The child or the mother?” I ask.

“Both,” Jane answer. “I am sorry, James should have told you but you have to talk with him.”

“I cannot face him yet,” I wipe my face.

There is a knock on the door, followed by James’ voice, “Lady Jane?”

Jane quickly answers the door, angling it so I am not seen. “James,” she greets him.

“Can I speak with Grace?” He asks, and Jane looks back to me. “Please Grace, talk to me,” he pleads into the air.

I shake my head to Jane. “She will talk later.”

“Please Jane,” he begs her.

“She is hurt James, you should not have kept your child a secret,” Jane scolds.

“I know,” James sounds defeated. “Inform her I will be in my chambers for the rest of the night.”

Jane closes the door, “What are you going to do?”

“Sleep here,” I reply.

“You cannot,” Jane orders. “You are married, soon to be King and Queen and this is your first quarrel. You need to talk.”

I look to my friend. “Why are you so insistent about this?”

“I just think you should have both sides of the story.” Jane explains.

“No, it is not just that,” I stand and face Jane. “What is really happening here Jane?”

Jane fidgets under my stare, the very same one I learnt from my mother and I know how hard it is on the receiving end. Eventually, she breaks.

“I am sympathetic to the circumstances because,” she takes a deep breath, looking down at her feet and then back to me. “I am pregnant.”

I gasp, covering my open mouth with my hand, “Pregnant?”

Jane nods, wiping away her tears, “By a month I think.”

“George is the father,” I sigh. “Have you told anyone else?”

She shakes her head, “I am so scared.”

I run to her and hold my dear friend, “Oh Jane.”

She begins to cry, and then I cry and we begin to laugh. We are both a mess, “I am so sorry Grace.”

“There is no need, I know why you were being defensive now and you have made me realise you were right,” I admit. Hearing that Jane is pregnant, birthing the King’s bastard baby is all too similar to what has happened with James.

“I was not speaking of that,” Jane frowns. “I am sorry about becoming pregnant.”

“Well you had better take it back,” I argue. “You were in love.”

I sit with Jane, hearing more about her secret journey. It seems she and George were a lot closer than I originally thought. I am not surprised at all that Jane has caught pregnant. Now it is just a question of, what will she do now?

“Will you promise to keep this quiet? Until I think about what I want to do,” Jane begs.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I have heard there are places they can help me,” she whispers.

“You had better not be talking about killing the baby,” I order and by the look on Jane’s face, I know I am right. I sit closer to her and take her hand. “I will be by your side the whole way if you need me and I know you will not like hearing this but, you need to tell George.”

“But I will become his property, his mistress and I do not want that,” she frowns.

“I know, but it is your best choice for you and the baby,” I try to persuade. “Please Jane, do not keep this from him.”

“Only if you talk with James,” she declares.

“Why?” I ask.

“The mother might have been just like me,” Jane explains. “Go and find out.”

I decide that I will, but not yet. James can wait a while longer. I try to console Jane, hearing her plans on what she can do, but we both know she should tell George. She cannot expect me to keep this from my brother, and I think it is in her best interest even if it is the last thing she wants. She has made a mistake and will have to live with it.

I cannot believe Grace found out about Abigail in that way. I should have told her about my daughter and I feel awful that I did not. The more I fell for her, the more I felt bad for not revealing everything to her. To be honest, I was scared she would not have been as interested as she was if she would have known I was a father. It is the sad truth. I am afraid that if Grace would have known about Abigail, then we would not be married. But Grace is a loving person, and she could have seen past that if I would have given her all the facts but we will never know now.

My darling Abigail, so beautiful and pure is the product of a silly, one night that lead to the tragic death of her mother. I will forever feel bad for that, but if not then I would not have her in my life. I need to talk with Grace and try to get her to understand, for is she does not then I worry our marriage will not be as happy as I had wished.

The pain I saw on Grace’s face when she worked out who the child was in my arms. I saw her mentally putting it together and I hated myself for it. Not only did I feel for Grace, but I feel guilty on behalf of my bastard daughter. She was in my arms while at the same time I regretted everything, it is true however I do not regret Abigail and I never will.

I just pray Grace can forgive me.

Many Kings have bastard children, it is not unusual at all so I should not be as surprised as I am. Jane has helpfully pointed out that at least this happened before I met him rather than while we were married. As much as she is right, I never thought my King would do this. I saw our marriage with our own children and living as happy life as can be, but now I do not know what to do. I cannot tell James he can never see Abigail again, she is his daughter and she has every right to James but it will be hard.

I say my goodbye to Jane and slowly walk towards my bedchamber, knowing James is inside. As I open the door, I am hoping he has fallen to sleep so we won’t have this conversation until tomorrow but I see him wide awake, sitting on the chair beside the bed. He looks stressed but quickly stands when I enter.

“Grace,” He takes a step forward but I shake my head, letting him know I do not want him close.

I warm my hands by the crackling fire, trying to think of something to say but the same question keeps going around and around inside my mine. “Why?” I ask.

“Why what?” He sounds puzzled and I guess so. There is so many reasons as to why I would ask him that.

“Why did you lie?” I snap, turning to face him. “You had so many chances to tell me about her.”

“I know,” He lowers his head. “Trust me I know, I could not get it out of my mind but the longer I kept her from you, the harder it was to tell you.”

Fury pours from me, what a pathetic excuse, “It would not have mattered when you told me because I would have respected you for telling me the truth!” I shout.

James closes his eyes. Nodding to his defeat. I love him so much, why did he have to do this to me?

“Does her mother live at court?” I ask.

James shakes his head, “No.”

“Then where is she?” I demand. Wanting to know where he is hiding her.

“She died in childbirth,” James tells me and I fall quiet. Poor Abigail, losing her mother the day she was born. No child should have to experience that.

“What was her name?” I ask calmly.

“Eleanor,” He tells me. “She was one of mothers Ladies in waiting.”

I absorb this information, Jane was right to tell me to talk. I was not expecting this, “I am sorry to hear that.”

“Do not be, it is not your burden,” James sounds harsh and he looks angry.

“Do you blame yourself for her death?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, every time I see Abigail,” he admits.

I close the distance between us, “Do not blame yourself, you did not force her mother into bed. It was both of you and childbirth is a dangerous thing, you cannot think this was on you.” I urge.

We stand facing one another, “Will this change us?”

“No,” I answer, already knowing that it will not. “I love you and I always will.”

James grabs me, startling me at first, “God I love you.”

“Do not think you are forgiven,” I make clear and he nods.

“Grace, I know this is hard on you but I have to be part of her life. I want Abigail to have the best upbringing I can give her, and the greatest opportunities,” James urges.

“James, it does not matter how upset I am, I would never expect you to be away from your child,” I frown. “Did you think I would?” It does upset me more to think he would think that.

“I honestly did not know, you were so upset,” he adds.

“I want you to be in her life James, she deserves a father like you,” I begin to cry and he holds me again. “Do not lie to me again.”

“I promise,” he insists.

“Can I meet her?” I ask.

“Really?” He seems shocked.

“She is going to be a part of your life, which means she’ll be part of mine too so I had better get used to her and I want to start sooner than later.” I smile. “I want to try James.”

“And I am thankful, but only if you want to.” He looks deep into my eyes. “I do not want you upset.”

“I do, really.” I place my head into his chest.

“Then we can visit her tomorrow.” He suggests.

“Sounds great.” I agree, and a nervousness breaks out inside of me. I really want this to work out, I do not want to be competing against a child and most importantly, I do not want to be like my mother. Thinking of how my mother treats Arthur and Bridget makes me sad and I vow to never treat Abigail like that.

The next morning, we wake and there is a strange atmosphere. I think it has something to do with me meeting Abigail today. I met her yesterday, but not properly and I am really scared, but after I connected Abigail with my bastard siblings who I dearly love, I could not mistreat her. She has no mother, which is awful and I feel a sense of responsibility and it feels odd. Perhaps because she is my husband’s child, but either way I will help James make sure she has a good life. She did not ask to be born into this situation. That lands on James and her mother, Eleanor.

“Are you still ok with this?” James asks me as we have breakfast.

“I am,” I answer confidently. “I am sorry about the way I reacted, you are already going through a hard time.”

“You do not need to apologise to me, Grace,” he insists.

“But I do,” I argue. “This is not easy on anyone, especially Abigail.”

“You seem calmer this morning,” he observes.

“My mother hates Arthur and Bridget and I do not want to be like her,” I urge. “I will not allow Abigail to feel the way my mother makes my step siblings feel.”

James smiles, “I am proud of you.”

“You had better be,” I point. “You have a lot of making up to do.”

After breakfast, James tells me that Abigail has a room with her Lady Edith near the nursery. “She will be in the nursery now playing,” James smiles, looking excited at the thought of Abigail happily playing.

“That is sweet,” I agree.

We enter the nursery, and James kindly asks Lady Edith to give us some time alone with Abigail. While she passes us, Lady Edith gives me an encouraging smile and I hate that she feels sorry for me.
Poor Princess Grace has to see her husband’s bastard child.

“Dada!” Shouts little Abigail, running towards James.

Her cheeks wobble as she runs and she stumbles slightly but I see the cuteness and as James captures her in his arms I feel so proud of him. That was the last emotion I was expecting. James stands with her and turns to face me, both of them smiling.

“Grace, this is Abigail,” James bounces her in his arms and she laughs.

“Hello Abigail,” I place my finger in her tiny hand and she grips tightly. I look to James and laugh.
She is holding my finger.

She begins to fidget so James lets her back down and she entertains herself, bringing something to me every so often and she melts my heart, “She is beautiful James.”

He smiles, “I know.”

“We will take care of her,” I nod, watching her happily running around, her sweet laughter making me smile.

“Do you mean that?” James asks.

“Of course I do, she is your daughter and I want you to have a relationship with her. Maybe me too,” I think out loud.

“I do not want you to think you have to do that, Grace,” James takes my face in his hands.

“No, but I want to. She is a sweet girl and deserves a life with her father,” he kisses me and Abigail begins to laugh.

I am not naïve enough to think that having Abigail in our lives will be easy, it will be the opposite. I want to be the one to give him children, but here we are. Abigail is here and I want to be involved in her life, I think back to Bridget and how bad I feel for how my mother treats her and I do not want Abigail to live the same life.

My mother always did tell me to do whatever is necessary to make your husband adore and love you, and I will take her advice on board. She could have listened to her own advice and everyone’s life could have been easier, but my mother can be stubborn.

I sit down on the floor and join Abigail in her play and James watches us with so much happiness reflected on his face. I want this to work.