Read Online The Princess is Pregnant! by Laurie Paige - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laurie Paige
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he wasn’t expecting a lot from the diplomatic meeting with the head of Penwyck’s military forces.
Intelligence sources from his own county suspected Monteque was also head of a secret, elite force that reported only to King Morgan. However, this was conjecture since they had no hard evidence of such a group even existing.
Just as he had no real evidence of Megan’s pregnancy. More than one man had been trapped by a female’s wiles. Except Megan practiced no wiles.She was as straightforward as any man he’d ever known. His best friend, Arnie Stanhope, would like her—
“Good afternoon,” Monteque said, interrupting the odd tangent his thoughts had taken.
“Admiral,” he responded.
“Please, be seated.” The admiral waited until Jean-Paul was comfortably situated. “Coffee? Tea?”
“Neither, thank you.” Jean-Paul studied the older man, noting the alert intelligence behind the pleasant mien and feeling the keenness in the man’s glance.
“What can I do for you?” the admiral inquired, settling back in his own chair as if he had all the time in the world.
“Penwyck is about to enter a military alliance with Majorco,” Jean-Paul stated.
The admiral nodded, disclosing nothing.
“Drogheda might be interested in joining such an alliance. Three small island nations would be more effective as a military force than one, or even two. There is still a certain safety in numbers.”
“Why should Drogheda desire such an alliance? Your country has the full authority of the United Kingdom behind you. Behind them is their ally, the Americans.”
“With which Penwyck is negotiating a trade and arms sales agreement, are you not?” Jean-Paul put in coolly.
Monteque’s gaze sharpened to spear points, but he ignored the question. “Penwyck has the most up-to-date equipment and research facilities in the world. What would we gain by an alliance?”
“There would be advantages to your country as well as mine in the arrangement. Our balance-of-trade exchange with the rest of the world is excellent, as you must know. An open-trade agreement would be to your benefit. Morgan’s emissary to the international trade conference mentioned that. Prince Bernier would consider it.”
“Princess Megan,” the admiral murmured, mentioning the emissary by name. “She went in Meredith’s place.”
Jean-Paul detected a slight change in tone and wondered what the admiral found significant in that fact. He knew Princess Meredith acted as liaison to the Royal Intelligence Institute for her father, the king. Was she supposed to have done something more during the conference than Megan had? Or that Megan had neglected to do?
“And handled her tasks very well,” he said, worry eating at him for Megan’s sake. He would not have it said she’d left her duties unattended. “She spoke well for Penwyck before the assembly.”
Monteque’s eyebrows rose fractionally. “I would expect no less from a royal offspring.” He shifted a notepad on the immaculate desk, a subtle sign the discussion was coming to an end.
“When may we expect an audience with the king to discuss the possibilities?” Jean-Paul inquired, adopting the diplomatic “we” to remind Monteque he represented a country as powerful as Penwyck.
The hesitation was so slight as to be negligible, but Jean-Paul had been trained from birth to be aware of nuances. The admiral was uncertain about something and that something had to do with the king. Jean-Paul recalled that the queen had filled in for her husband at a state dinner earlier in the week. Hmm, interesting.
Monteque stood. “Sir Selywyn will advise you of the king’s schedule.”
Jean-Paul, too, rose. “Drogheda will not sit idly while weapons of mass destruction are brought into a neighboring kingdom.”
Fury passed quickly over the admiral’s face. “Surely Penwyck and Drogheda are long past those times when we tried to conquer each other,” he said in amused contempt.
“A hundred years
Intelligence sources from his own county suspected Monteque was also head of a secret, elite force that reported only to King Morgan. However, this was conjecture since they had no hard evidence of such a group even existing.
Just as he had no real evidence of Megan’s pregnancy. More than one man had been trapped by a female’s wiles. Except Megan practiced no wiles.She was as straightforward as any man he’d ever known. His best friend, Arnie Stanhope, would like her—
“Good afternoon,” Monteque said, interrupting the odd tangent his thoughts had taken.
“Admiral,” he responded.
“Please, be seated.” The admiral waited until Jean-Paul was comfortably situated. “Coffee? Tea?”
“Neither, thank you.” Jean-Paul studied the older man, noting the alert intelligence behind the pleasant mien and feeling the keenness in the man’s glance.
“What can I do for you?” the admiral inquired, settling back in his own chair as if he had all the time in the world.
“Penwyck is about to enter a military alliance with Majorco,” Jean-Paul stated.
The admiral nodded, disclosing nothing.
“Drogheda might be interested in joining such an alliance. Three small island nations would be more effective as a military force than one, or even two. There is still a certain safety in numbers.”
“Why should Drogheda desire such an alliance? Your country has the full authority of the United Kingdom behind you. Behind them is their ally, the Americans.”
“With which Penwyck is negotiating a trade and arms sales agreement, are you not?” Jean-Paul put in coolly.
Monteque’s gaze sharpened to spear points, but he ignored the question. “Penwyck has the most up-to-date equipment and research facilities in the world. What would we gain by an alliance?”
“There would be advantages to your country as well as mine in the arrangement. Our balance-of-trade exchange with the rest of the world is excellent, as you must know. An open-trade agreement would be to your benefit. Morgan’s emissary to the international trade conference mentioned that. Prince Bernier would consider it.”
“Princess Megan,” the admiral murmured, mentioning the emissary by name. “She went in Meredith’s place.”
Jean-Paul detected a slight change in tone and wondered what the admiral found significant in that fact. He knew Princess Meredith acted as liaison to the Royal Intelligence Institute for her father, the king. Was she supposed to have done something more during the conference than Megan had? Or that Megan had neglected to do?
“And handled her tasks very well,” he said, worry eating at him for Megan’s sake. He would not have it said she’d left her duties unattended. “She spoke well for Penwyck before the assembly.”
Monteque’s eyebrows rose fractionally. “I would expect no less from a royal offspring.” He shifted a notepad on the immaculate desk, a subtle sign the discussion was coming to an end.
“When may we expect an audience with the king to discuss the possibilities?” Jean-Paul inquired, adopting the diplomatic “we” to remind Monteque he represented a country as powerful as Penwyck.
The hesitation was so slight as to be negligible, but Jean-Paul had been trained from birth to be aware of nuances. The admiral was uncertain about something and that something had to do with the king. Jean-Paul recalled that the queen had filled in for her husband at a state dinner earlier in the week. Hmm, interesting.
Monteque stood. “Sir Selywyn will advise you of the king’s schedule.”
Jean-Paul, too, rose. “Drogheda will not sit idly while weapons of mass destruction are brought into a neighboring kingdom.”
Fury passed quickly over the admiral’s face. “Surely Penwyck and Drogheda are long past those times when we tried to conquer each other,” he said in amused contempt.
“A hundred years
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