The Italian's Unexpected Heir

“Agreed. It would be best not to share the details with the princess. And not with Miss Kettle, either. You know her. She will decide she doesn’t need protection, at all.”

“Unless we made it clear that you were to be her protector,” Edward said, a slight teasing note to his voice.

“She’s engaged,” Lancaster said, his tone flat, making his eyes hard with a warning that there were places even a prince should fear to go.

“Apparently she’s not that anymore, either.”

This was news to Lancaster, and he was not sure what dangerous emotion tickled along his spine, though he made sure his expression did not reveal it, and he refused to ask the question When did that happen? He got back to his point.

“I’ve got someone en route to keeping an eye on Sophie. If we can get her to Havenhurst, we can contain the situation. The fact that she’s just lost her job—and her engagement—plays straight into our hands. So does Princess Madeline’s having a difficult pregnancy—sorry, sir, the palace staff has been talking about rather epic bouts of morning sickness, and Prince Ryan is being particularly fractious of late.”

“A holy terror,” Prince Edward agreed, wearily. “His nanny tells me it is quite normal for a two-year-old, but it’s being exacerbated by his mother not having her usual amount of energy and time for him, I’m sure.”

“Wouldn’t it be the most natural time in the world for Maddie to ask her friend to come and support her?” Lancaster suggested softly. “Sophie is excellent with the prince.”

“You’ve thought this out,” Edward said gratefully. “It would be the perfect time for Sophie to come for an extended visit. I will go plant the seed.”

“If you can insert a sense of urgency, sir—”

“Understood,” Edward said.

“Your Highness?”

“Yes?”

“If either of these two women were ever to find out we’ve left them out of the loop on this thing, even though it is for their own good, I’m afraid it won’t go well for us.”

“You’ve always had a gift for the understatement, Lancaster.”

And then both men enjoyed a quiet, comradely chuckle born of the intricacies of dealing with strong-willed American women in delicate situations.