The Un-Apparent Heir: A Royal Family Saga Romance (Spare Change Book 4)

16. Only Good News

Ed watched telly while waiting for Natalie to get home and make dinner. He wanted to see her after a long day on the road. He’d been gone for a week without her. Their reunions always felt so sweet these days. She would be in a good mood. They’d make a nice dinner, have a shag, and cuddle on the couch. It was the very definition of marital harmony he’d always sought. Things were perfect.

Natalie’s Porsche appeared outside. Ed greeted her at the door. As she climbed out, he waited in the doorway. The January wind hit his face. Wales could be brutal. He’d always escape to the pool in the mornings, safe under its enclosure. He looked forward to the next morning spent in the warm water, swimming his laps. He was preparing for his second season of open-water swimming. Last year, he’d surprised even himself with his stamina. It was a brilliant way to clear his head, even if the water was freezing and intimidating at times.

He went to kiss Natalie, but she pulled away, shaking her head. “I… I need to talk to you about something.”

Confused, Ed followed her in.

“I would sugarcoat it and greet you with a whisky, but that’s not within my capability tonight.”

Ed closed the front door, standing in the dark foyer. He could only make out her features by the light filtering in from the living room.

“Okay. What’s going on, Nat?”

“Today, I had G-LOC and proceeded to vomit all over myself. I went to the infirmary to hopefully figure out what was the matter. I want to be cleared to fly, you know?”

“Of course.”

“But I won’t be. Not now. I would suspect I am permanently grounded.”

“Baby, what is going on?”

“I don’t know how to feel about this, but through some sort of oddity, I’m pregnant.”

She continued talking, but Ed lost all ability to reason or speak. Did she just say… pregnant? How could that be?

“So, yeah. I’m not sure if I’m excited. I should be, but… it seems impossible.”

“Of course, you’re excited.”

“I’m not. This changes everything. I want to be. I feel dreadful I’m not, Edwin. We waited so long, darling. We gave up. I resigned myself to the happiest life without children. We created a beautiful life together. I love our lives. I didn’t want to be a first-time mum at thirty-seven. That’s not in the cards?—”

“Well, Nat, we don’t have a choice but to proceed if it is meant to be,” Ed said.

Internally, he was bursting, too. Much like for Natalie, this was an unknown. He didn’t know what to feel.

“Well, I love you,” Ed took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “And whatever happens, we’re here together. That’s all that matters. Same team.”

Natalie nodded. “Sure. I made an appointment with the consultant in the morning. She told us to come to get measurements. I have no idea how far along I am. I couldn’t remember my last period. I’ve been so wrapped up in stress and work.”

“Can’t be far,” Ed said.

“No, I don’t think so. Until I see the baby on the screen, it won’t feel real,” Natalie said. “Maybe someday…”

Natalie sat,hands folded in her lap. They waited to see the midwife for their scan. It was hard to believe they waited to see a baby onscreen. Well, they hoped. The midwife, a brusque Welshwoman with a thick accent, reported for duty. She was so official. It took Natalie by surprise. She didn’t mind it. She appreciated that level of detail.

Natalie hopped on the table. She held Ed’s hand as the baby appeared. They expected something tiny and worm-like. They’d spent the night before on the couch, Natalie scrolling endlessly on her phone through week-by-week ultrasounds. She tried to come up with symptoms by week that made sense. Other than vomiting once and feeling a bit tired, she had nothing.\

But on the screen, there was the baby—its heart beating strong. It looked human, possessing a head and little arms. It had feet that kicked. Natalie swore she saw a wave. Ed teared up, unable to hold back. This was a dream realised. Natalie was in shock.

“All looks well. We’re going to get some measurements now. You had no idea you were pregnant?”

“No,” Natalie said. “Not until I got sick in flight. That’s never happened to me. It was out of nowhere. So, the doctor took a test and… I’m here now. I’m pretty far along.”

The midwife waited to answer.

“Measurements are all positive. Given your age, I would like to run a genetic screen, but I don’t see anything concerning, You are measuring twelve weeks and one day, but it’s unreliable this far out. Take your due date with a grain of salt.”

“When is that?”

“Per the chart, August 11th.”

Natalie nearly fell over. “We’re having a baby in August?”

“Yes. Congratulations. Exciting news, I hope?”

Ed nodded. “Such exciting news. It feels real now.”

“Are we like…out of the woods? This all could end?”

“If your tests come back positive,” the midwife said, “then, the risk of miscarriage is very minimal. It is usually about this point that most couples tell their families they are expecting, but it”s a personal choice.”

“But how come I am not showing?” Natalie panicked. “And I didn’t have symptoms—other than being exhausted and feeling ill? And why so late? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Some people show late with a first pregnancy.”

“You’re in remarkable shape, Nat. Strong. I swam with women who swam—not even showing much in a swimsuit—into their fourth or fifth month. You’re also tall. It helps,” Ed said.

“The symptoms vary by person. Some people have lots. This is typically the worst time for nausea. Around fourteen weeks, it abates and your energy improves,” the midwife explained. “But it’s all normal and not concerning. We will have tests back in a week or so.”

Natalie and Ed left with a roll of baby photos.

“I think it’s a girl,” Natalie said.

“You hope it is a girl,” Ed chuckled. “We must wait ages to find out.”

“True.”

“I’m so happy, Natalie.”

“I am, too,” Natalie admitted. “I finally feel like I can breathe. I’m going to be a mum.”

“You will be wonderful at it. We will love this baby to the ends of the Earth. And while I wish this happened in my thirties, I still have some life in me.”

“Let’s wait until the tests come back and then we can tell our parents. They will be so happy to hear our news, Ed!”

Ed smiled broadly as they left the car park. “I know they will. What a happy surprise!”

Sanne calledfor her boys to come in from the garden. They were in Whitstable. They’d gone out to play before dinner. Neither minded the cold. Paul blamed their Norwegian blood for their hardiness. Both boys were wild, tumbling in the door.

“No roughhousing,” Sanne said. “Coats and boots off. No nonsense, got it?”

Sanne returned to making dinner while the boys played on their tablets. After a bit of prep, she finally put dinner on the table. Paul would be home late—too late to eat. Sanne usually came home first. She was always there for school pickup. It was important for Sanne and Paul to give the boys a normal childhood. Keir may be the future king, but he would be treated like any other child, as far as Sanne and Paul were concerned.

Sanne always received flak from the press for raising her boys as normies. People accused her of shirking and leaving too much work for Vanna and Natalie. Of course, neither had young children. Natalie was treated remarkably well by the press after their infertility announcement. Sanne was grateful. She didn’t want to see Natalie and Ed suffer. Meanwhile, the press continued to rake Sanne over the coals for everything.

Keir was a future king. His commoner mother was unappealing, poorly-mannered, and didn’t know how to raise a future monarch. People claimed she whipped Paul into submission somehow and he had no power over his children. They made her out as a demon. No matter how hard she worked these days, Sanne couldn’t win.

At some point when Nathan was just a baby, she stopped trying. Sanne had another reason to be lazy—as if that was ever true. She was carrying what they suspected was their third child. However, instead of being blessed with one baby, she had gotten the genetic curse of being a fraternal twin toting fraternal twins. So, baby three—supposedly their last—was now babies three and four. With any luck, she’d deliver in May.

Sanne fed her boys and tucked them into bed. She soaked up these moments the best she could. Being a mother was the most rewarding thing she’d ever done. She and Paul were happiest devoting their lives to raising children. It was a blissful existence for now. Sanne could whinge about being married to the now-heir as much as she wanted. She could miss her late mother or pine for America, but she could also get on a plane and visit her mother in Oslo or her sister in Michigan. And every night, she fell asleep knowing she was married and loved her children more than life.

Despite life being an adjustment and as much as the press hounded her, Sanne had a thick skin. She focused on raising boys who were kind, compassionate, and truly themselves. They could be anything—yes, even a fast jet pilot like Auntie Natalie. Their world was full of endless possibilities. It was fascinating to watch them reason and grow. They loved one another to bits. They were brothers through and through.

Sanne didn’t make it long after dinner. She fell asleep, waking to the sound of Paul downstairs making breakfast for the boys. He was singing to them, something he did most days. They were already in their school uniforms.

Sanne approached to kiss him. “When did you get in last night, baby?”

“Late,” Paul replied. “Fell asleep to these little devils kicking up a storm. I don’t know how you sleep.”

He patted her stomach lovingly.

“Not well,” Sanne giggled. “Not well.”

“I let you sleep in because you needed it. Now, boys, are you ready to go with me up the road? Eat up. We have about ten minutes.”

Sanne smiled. Paul made her bacon and eggs. She had a lonely single cup of coffee. It kept her alive some mornings. The press would have a field day if she ever admitted to drinking it while pregnant—despite having produced two bright, sweet boys who had made it to two and nearly four with little fanfare.

Sanne watched them pack off up the road, both skipping on either side of Paul. He towered over them, gentle as he had with Charlotte when she was only a toddler. They were mad for having two more, but Sanne knew this was her last pregnancy and these were her final babies. It felt right.

Today was the big anatomy scan everyone looked forward to. She dressed in a pair of maternity leggings and a pullover to wait for Paul to return from the nursery school to drive her to the surgery for her scan.

“Ready?” Paul gave Sanne another kiss.

“So ready,” Sanne beamed. “Let’s hope they’re okay. Fingers crossed for girls.”

“I would settle for anything,” Paul admitted. “But I know you want at least one.”

Sanne wanted a girl so badly. She would have done just about anything. It was part of the reason they’d tried again. She didn’t mind being the mother to boys as much as she worried she would. As a woman raised in an all-female household, some things had taken time to grasp, but she soon learned that boys were the same as girls with slightly different plumbing.

At the appointment, they waited with several other couples who paid them little mind. Sanne was over the fuss of London and its posh maternity wing. They might give birth in London, as they had with the two boys, but she was keen to stay close to home for now.

“Holmes-Nordgren,” a nurse called.

Sanne maintained her mothers’ maiden names in situations like this almost as an act of protest. Technically, as Duchess of Inverness, she had no name. Her boys officially went by Inverness, which was also on Sanne’s passport. However, on both their birth certificates she remained Sanne Holmes-Nordgren the Duchess of Inverness, something that inflamed the press. Paul could have cared less, nor did his family mind. Still, it felt like a nice punch for the damn, awful press that hounded her.

Inside the room where the ultrasound took place, Sanne pulled down her leggings and panties to expose her massive bump. She’d never been so big in her life, and she hoped after this, she could retire all the maternity leggings despite their glorious comfort. She was ready to get her body back for good.

The midwife pulled the babies up on the screen.

“Just confirming that I am handing this information on the sex of the babies off in a sealed envelope?”

Sanne nodded.

“And who will keep it?”

“I will.” Sanne glared playfully at Paul.

“We don’t trust Daddy?” The midwife laughed.

“Unfortunately, no,” Paul said. “She thinks I will snoop.”

“And he will. I think the whole thing is ridiculous, but my sister-in-law insists on a reveal. She’s pulling for two girls. I think she believes she can will it into fruition.”

Paul laughed. “If anyone could, it would be Natalie.”

Natalie planned to do a simple reveal with a cake while the family gathered for Prince Elliot’s birthday. Elliot, or Eli, was the youngest son of the late Queen Margaux. Paul’s uncle didn’t live in the public eye. He and his wife never had children, lived in the country, and only came for informal family occasions. The King and Queen often visited the King’s baby brother, but he didn’t come “to the city” often. Elliot didn’t mind sharing with his great nephews or nieces. Sanne wasn’t about to tell Natalie no. She was so excited about this pregnancy. It was great to see her embrace aunthood so tirelessly. And, it could be fun and with an “American-style” cake.

“Both babies are measuring well. Not small. About the same size,” the midwife noted. “All looks good. I will take more photos and make sure all is well, but this will be routine.”

That gave both Paul and Sanne some relief. They were glad to hear things looked good. The babies rolled and kicked—often knocking one another in the head.

“See, that could have been Linny and I,” Sanne laughed. “She always claimed I kicked her in the head.”

“Oh, Natalie swears she spent the entire time abusing George, so it’s fine.”

The midwife snickered. “Are we excited for twins then?”

“I think so, yes,” Sanne said. “Very excited.”