Pregnant with the Prince's Child by Raye Morgan Read Free Book Online Page B

he asked. “I’d almost think you knew me well.”
    That was putting it mildly. It was very strange to realize that he didn’t remember anything about the last two years, and especially that he didn’t have any of the past they’d shared in his system. They hadn’t been together long, but it had certainly changed her life. To think any changes he’d gone through were lost, or reversed, or whatever had happened to them, was unsettling to say the least. She didn’t like it. It just might be that when he remembered, he would hate her again. But that would be better than not remembering and being untouched by all they had gone through together.
    The way he was watching her, his head back, his eyes half-closed, she wasn’t sure what he was thinking. The seconds stretched out longer and longer. He didn’t speak, but he kept looking at her. She bit her lip, nervous but ready to deal with whatever he was getting ready to throw at her. Somehow she knew it was coming.
    But when he finally spoke, his question was awkward for her, but rather ordinary in its way.
    “Are you married?” he asked at last.
    Her heart lurched, but she managed to hide it. “Yes,” she said quickly. “Yes, I am. But we’re pretty much separated right now.”
    “I see.” He nodded slowly. “The war.”
    “Yes. The war.” She almost laughed aloud. “Blame it on the war.” Why not? The war had been the supposed reason behind everything in their relationship so far.
    He frowned. “I was in the war. So they tell me. I don’t remember.” He twitched as though he wasn’t really comfortable. “They say I did some good things, but I guess I’ll never know for sure.”
    “Well, of course,” she said with a smile that quickly turned bittersweet.
    Something told her that he knew, without having to be told, that he’d been brave and honorable. It was the essence of who he was. And it was also why they were so badly matched. The ache in the bottom of her heart seemed to throb more painfully than ever. You could change your mind, you could change your behavior, but you couldn’t change your bloodline.
    “When do you go home?” he asked.
    “I was just leaving when you collapsed,” she said defensively. “I’ll go. Don’t worry.”
    He frowned at her, seeming furious all of a sudden. “Why would you go?” he demanded. “Isn’t it your job to stay here with me?”
    “Not when you kick me out like you did.”
    “Kick you out?” He obviously thought she was making things up. “I would never kick you out. I need you. Has anyone made up a room for you?”
    “No.” She looked at him, exasperated and confused. “Actually, I haven’t told anyone I need one yet. I thought…”
    He moved impatiently. “Get Boswell in here. He’ll make sure you have good accommodations. I’m surprised he didn’t take it upon himself to do it already.”
    She stared at him blankly. “Boswell?”
    “Our butler.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “I thought his name was Griswold.”
    “Oh.” He grimaced as though he’d just remembered something best left to the shadows. “That’s right. Kylos replaced the entire staff for some ungodly reason.” He frowned fiercely at her. “Do you know why he did that?”
    “Uh…no.”
    “Neither do I.” He sighed, looking restless. “Poor old Boswell. I wonder what’s happened to him? He was here from the time I was a toddler. Practically part of the family.”
    “Well, now you’ve got Griswold. But he went home at nine o’clock.”
    He stared at her, nonplussed. “Went home! What the hell’s a butler doing going home? Doesn’t he live here, in the house?”
    She threw up her hands and laughed at him. “I don’t know. He’s your butler.”
    The situation seemed to bother him. “Boswell wouldn’t have left his post,” he muttered to himself.
    She nodded, sure that was true. But then, she’d never had a butler. The thought made her want to giggle. She only hoped it wasn’t plain old hysteria