Merline Lovelace

The Diplomat's Pregnant Bride


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that Sarah was moving out.

      Okay! All right! So Gina needed a place to stay until she landed a job and became self-supporting. Despite her determination to prove herself, she had to have a base to build on. Grandmama wouldn’t object to letting her move in. Probably.

      “I’ve got some pretty good contacts in New York,” Patrick was saying. “You want me to make a few calls? Grease the skids a little?”

      “I need to do this on my own, Pat. But thanks for the offer.”

      “It stays on the table,” he said with a shrug as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Call me if you change your mind. Or better yet, let your new brother-in-law know. Dev is complete mush right now. He’d set you up with your own agency if you so much as hint that’s what you want. And let me know if you want me to close up your apartment in L.A. and have your things shipped here.”

      “I will. Thanks again.”

      * * *

      Gina climbed out of a cab some two hours later. The Dakota’s red sandstone turrets poked against the darkening night sky, welcoming her to the castlelike apartment complex that was one of New York City’s most prestigious addresses. The duchess had bought an apartment here shortly after arriving in New York City. The purchase had put a serious dent in her cache of jewels, but careful investments during those first years, along with the discreet sale of a diamond bracelet here, a ruby necklace there, had allowed Charlotte to maintain the apartment and an elegant lifestyle over the decades.

      Keeping up the facade had become much tougher in recent years. The jewels were gone. So were most of the haute couture gowns and designer suits that once filled her grandmother’s closet. With her love of the classic retro look, Sarah had salvaged a number of the outfits and saved money by not splurging on new clothes for herself, but she’d had to struggle to cover the bills from her own salary.

      Dev, bless him, wanted to make things easier for his wife’s grandmother. But like the wedding expenses, taking over the duchess’s financial affairs involved delicate negotiations that had yet to reach a satisfactory conclusion. Which put the burden on Gina’s shoulders. She couldn’t just move in and expect her grandmother to support her. She had to pay her own way.

      On that determined note, she thanked Maria for staying so late and told her to sleep in the next morning. “I’ll make breakfast for Grandmama.”

      The Honduran looked dubious. “Are you sure, chica? La duquesa, she likes her egg poached just so.”

      “I know. It has to sit for exactly four minutes after the heat’s turned off.”

      “And her tea. It must be...”

      “The Twinings English Black. I’ve got it covered. The car’s waiting for you. Go home and get some rest.”

      Maria obviously had her doubts but gathered her suitcase-sized purse. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      * * *

      Gina was up and waiting when her grandmother walked into the kitchen just after eight-thirty the next morning. The duchess was impeccably dressed as always in a calf-length black skirt and lavender silk overblouse. Her hair formed its usual, neat snowy crown atop her head, but Gina saw with a quick dart of concern that she was leaning more heavily than she normally did on her cane.

      “Good morning,” she said, masking her worry behind a cheerful smile. “I got a text from Sarah a while ago. She says it’s balmy and beautiful in Majorca.”

      “I expect it is. Are you doing breakfast?”

      “I am. Sit, and I’ll bring your tea.”

      Surprised and just a little wary, the duchess seated herself in the sunny breakfast room off the kitchen. Its ivy-sprigged wallpaper, green seat cushions and windows overlooking Central Park seemed to bring the bright May spring right into the room.

      Gina poured hot water over the leaves she’d measured into her grandmother’s favorite Wedgwood teapot and placed the pot on the table. While the Twinings Black steeped, she popped some wheat bread in the toaster and brought a saucepan of water back to a boil before easing two raw eggs out of their shells. The sight of the yolks gave her a moment’s qualm, but it passed. Still no twinge of morning nausea, thank God! With any luck, she’d escape that scourge altogether.

      “Here we are.”

      She hadn’t kept the yolks from breaking and going all runny, but the duchess thanked her with a smile and buttered her toast. Sensing there was something behind this special effort, she munched delicately on a corner of toast and waited patiently.

      Gina pulled in a deep breath and took the plunge. “I was wondering, Grandmama...”

      Dang! Admitting she was a screwup and needed to come live with her grandmother until she got her life in order was harder than she’d anticipated.

      “I thought perhaps I might stay with you until I get a job. If you don’t mind, that is.”

      “Oh, Eugenia!” Charlotte’s reaction came swift and straight from the heart. “Of course I don’t mind, my darling girl. This is your home. You must stay for as long as you wish. You and the baby.”

      Gina wasn’t crying. She really wasn’t. The tears just sort of leaked through her smile. “Thanks, Grandmama.”

      Her own lips a little wobbly, the duchess reached for her granddaughter’s hand. “I admit I wasn’t looking forward to rattling around this place by myself now that Sarah’s moving out. I’m delighted you want to stay here. Will you need to fly back to L.A. to pack up your things?”

      “Dev’s assistant, Patrick, said he would take care of that if I decided to stay in New York.”

      “Good!” Charlotte gave her hand a quick squeeze and picked up her fork. “Now, what’s this Sarah told me about you wanting to go into the catering business?”

      “Not catering. Event planning. I did a little of it in L.A. Just enough to know I’m better at organizing and throwing parties than...” She managed a watery chuckle. “Than everything else I’ve tried.”

      “Well, you certainly did an excellent job with the wedding.”

      The praise sent Gina’s spirits winging. “I did, didn’t I?” She preened for a moment, her tears forgotten. “And the photographer from Sarah’s magazine shot some amazing video and stills. He gave me a disk with enough material to put together a portfolio. I just emailed it to the woman I’m interviewing with this afternoon.”

      Her grandmother paused with her fork halfway to her lips. “You have an interview this afternoon?”

      “I do. With Nicole Tremayne, head of the Tremayne Group. TTG operates a dozen different event venues, three right here in the city.”

      “Hmm. I knew a Nicholas Tremayne some years ago. Quite well, actually.” Her thoughts seemed to go inward for a moment. Shaking them off, she lowered her fork. “This Nicole must be his daughter. If so, I’ll call him and...”

      “No, Grandmama, please don’t.”

      The urgent plea brought a look of surprise. “Why ever not?”

      “I want to do this on my own.”

      “That sentiment does you justice, Eugenia, but...”

      “You don’t have to say it. I know my track record doesn’t suggest I’ll make a very reliable employee. When you add the fact that I’m pregnant, it’ll be a miracle if I land any job. I want to try, though, Grandmama. I really do.”

      “Very well. I’ll refrain from interfering.”

      “Thank you. Dev and Patrick made the same promise. And I’ll get Jack to do the same when I meet him for lunch today.”

      The duchess tilted her head. Sudden interest gleamed in her faded blue eyes. “You’re having lunch with Jack? Why?