A Home for Nobody's Princess

The next day as Coco dressed Emma, she pointed to the photograph of Benjamin she had placed on a dresser in the baby’s room. “Daddy,” Coco said. “That’s your daddy.”

The baby was cheerful and a little less clingy than usual. Coco was pleased with Emma’s progress and hoped there might be an opportunity for Emma and Benjamin to make a little peace.

The doorbell rang as she was feeding Coco her lunch.

Sarah entered the kitchen. “Two men are here to see you. Dever-something?” she said.

Coco’s stomach clenched. She wondered if she should send them away, but remembered her promise to Benjamin. She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Tell them to wait in the front room, please,” she said and pulled out her cell phone. As soon as Sarah left, she punched Benjamin’s number on her cell phone.

“Benjamin,” he said in a curt voice.

“It’s me, Coco,” she said. “The men are here. They’re in the den.”

“Do you know what they want?” he asked.

“Not yet. I’ve been feeding Emma. I only called because you made me promise,” she said.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said and hung up the phone.

Coco handed the feeding of Emma over to Sarah and made her way to the front room. The two men immediately stood. “Miss Jordan, thank you for seeing us. Again, I’m Paul Forno, and this is my colleague Gerald Shaw.”

Tense, Coco laced her fingers together in front of her. “If this is regarding my mother’s debt, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

Mr. Forno’s face crinkled in confusion. “Your mother’s debt?” he echoed. “I wasn’t aware that Miss London had any debt issues. According to our information, she’s been well cared for, per her agreement with your father.”

“Miss London,” she echoed, not certain who was more confused—she or Mr. Forno. “That’s not my mother’s name. You must have the wrong person.”

Mr. Forno studied her. “You do know that you were adopted, don’t you?”

“Of course, but—” She broke off, struggling to keep her emotions under control as she tried to make sense of the men’s visit. “Is this about my birth mother? I tried to find her years ago, but I was told she didn’t want to meet me. Has she changed her mind?”

Mr. Forno exchanged a look with his associate. “Unfortunately—”

The front door opened and Benjamin stepped inside, his gaze sweeping the front room. “Problem?”

Coco immediately felt a sense of relief. “I think there’s a lot of confusion right now.”

Benjamin addressed the two men. “It shouldn’t take long to clear up any confusion given the fact that you’ve been bothering Miss Jordan. If you have a legitimate reason to see her, then spill it or leave.”

Mr. Forno cleared his throat. “This is a matter of a delicate nature. We, uh, prefer to speak to Miss Jordan privately.”

“That’s up to Miss Jordan,” Benjamin said.

“I’d like Mr. Garner to remain,” she said. “Whatever you say to me, you can say in front of him.”

Mr. Shaw sighed. “Then, sir, we must request that you sign a confidentiality agreement.”

“I’m not signing anything,” Benjamin said. “You’re in my house and you’re wasting my employee’s time and mine, too.”

Mr. Shaw looked nervous and perplexed. “Then I must beg of you to keep what we are about to tell you in the strictest confidence.”

Benjamin lifted one shoulder in halfhearted agreement. “Still waiting.”

Mr. Forno waved his hand. “Allow me to introduce ourselves, Mr. Garner. I am Paul Forno and this is my associate, Gerald Shaw, with the House of Devereaux. Perhaps we should sit down.”

Impatience simmering from Benjamin, he sat down. The others followed.

“As I said, we are representatives of the House of Devereaux,” the man began.

“What is that?” Benjamin asked.

Mr. Shaw blinked. “The royal House of Devereaux. The ruling family of the country of Chantaine.”

“Never heard of it,” Benjamin said.

Mr. Forno looked at Coco and she shrugged. “Sorry. Neither have I.”

“Oh, my,” Mr. Forno said. “Chantaine is a small, but beautiful island country off the coast of Italy. The Devereau family has ruled the country for centuries.”

“And what does this have to do with Coco?”

Mr. Forno sighed. “Your birth mother was Ava London. She had a long-term relationship with Prince Edward of Chantaine and you are—” He cleared his throat. “A product of that relationship.”

Coco frowned, blinking at the man’s announcement. Her birth mother? Her birth father? After all these years, she would learn who they were? She shook her head in amazement. “Are you saying that Ava London and Prince Edward are my biological parents?”

“Yes, they are,” he said.

She was so stunned she couldn’t comprehend it all. “My father is a prince?”

“Yes, he was,” Mr. Forno said.

“Was?” she echoed, her heart racing. “Oh, my goodness! Is he alive? Is my birth mother alive?”

“Unfortunately, no. His Royal Highness passed away several years ago, and his son, Stefan, has since ascended the throne. Your birth mother passed away just over a week ago,” he said.

“Oh,” she said, feeling a surge of sadness. Since her mother had died, she had felt so terribly alone. She’d had no close relatives, no siblings.

“What does this mean for Miss Jordan?” Benjamin asked.

“Well, the House of Devereaux wishes to extend an invitation for you to visit the country of Chantaine and also to meet the Devereau family,” he said brightly.

“Visit Chantaine? But how?” Coco asked.

“The usual way these days,” Mr. Forno said, continuing to smile. “A transatlantic flight.”

Her mind whirling, she looked at Benjamin and she immediately knew she couldn’t go. He was counting on her. Emma was counting on her. She shook her head. “Oh, I couldn’t. I’ve just started working here and Emma needs me. Thank you for the invitation, though,” she said.

The men looked surprised. “You’re turning down the invitation to meet the Devereaux.”