The Princess

by Jude Deveraux

  She looked at the other dinner guests. There were her cousins Nickie and Toby, her Aunt Bradley, and her young, beautiful cousin Barbara, who was seventh in line for the throne.

  “Where are Cissy and Gena?” Aria asked Julian, referring to Freddie’s sister and her own sister, knowing that Cissy was in the custody of the American government.

  “Both are with His Majesty at his hunting lodge,” he answered.

  The meal was deadly boring. The men could talk of nothing but the number of animals they had killed in the last week—since blood sports were their only occupation, there was nothing else they knew about. Great-Aunt Sophie bellowed at the people around her, trying to carry on a conversation but not able to keep up with anyone’s replies. Freddie, Nickie, and Toby’s affectations made Aria want to shout at them. Barbara flirted with each man, batting her eyelashes and leaning forward to show her décolletage.

  “I think a husband should be found for Cousin Barbara,” Aria said under her breath.

  Julian looked at her in surprise but made no comment.

  Wouldn’t they be surprised, Aria thought, if she began to flirt? She looked at Julian, so properly eating his sturgeon in dill sauce, and she wondered if he would be very shocked if she batted her lashes at him.

  With her heart pounding, and quickly, before she lost her nerve, she reached out and touched Julian’s hand. “Will you meet me in the King’s Garden after dinner?”

  He nodded once, but she could see the slight frown between his brows as he moved his hand away. She had just done something a crown princess did not do.

  She turned away to answer a question Great-Aunt Sophie was bellowing her way.

  After dinner she had to work to escape Lady Werta, whose face showed she believed the end of the world to be at hand. Aria slipped through the Green Waiting Room, through the Mars Room, ran past the Gallery of Kings, then out into the White Horse Courtyard, past the Greek Orangery, and finally reached the King’s Garden. The garden was so named because it was believed to have a masculine air with its tall pine trees and secret, twisting paths. It was said that Rowan once had a camp in this place.

  Julian was waiting for her, a slight frown on his face.

  He was sixteen years older than she was and she had always been a little in awe of him. After all, now she realized that theirs wasn’t to be an ordinary marriage. Their marriage was arranged for political and diplomatic reasons; theirs was a marriage of state.

  “You wanted to speak to me, Your Royal Highness,” Julian said politely, but there was disapproval in his voice.

  She wished there was something snappy she could say, or something wise. “You are angry with me,” she said in a little-girl voice, and cursed herself for doing so.

  She thought she saw a hint of a smile on his lips. He was actually very handsome—in spite of what Lieutenant Montgomery said—and the moonlight made him more so.

  “I think only of your reputation. It would not do for us to be seen alone together.”

  Aria turned away. On their wedding night he was going to find out that she was not a virgin. She looked back at him and took a deep breath. “For an engaged couple, we have spent very little time together, alone or with others. Since we are planning to spend our lives together, I thought we should talk and get to know each other better.”

  He looked at her for a while before responding. “And what did you want to discuss? The coming elections? I am sure our current Lord High Chamberlain will remain in office. In fact I think he may pass on the office to his descendants.”

  “No,” she said. “I mean, yes, I do want to discuss the council and its officers but I thought perhaps…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Your trip to America?”

  He was standing absolutely rigid, shoulders back, every hair, every medal in place, no flaw anywhere. Aria remembered Jarl coming home from work, his uniform dark with sweat, pulling it off as soon as he entered the door and saying, “Get me a beer, honey.”

  “Do you drink beer?” Aria blurted.

  Julian looked startled for a second then seemed to be trying to control a smile. “Yes, I drink beer.”

  “I didn’t know that. I know so very little about you and sometimes I wonder if we’ll be…compatible. I mean, we are to live together, and marriage is, I mean, I have heard, that marriage is so very intimate and…” She trailed off again, feeling a bit silly and childish because Julian was still standing so stiff and rigid.

  “I see,” he said.

  Aria didn’t like his smug tone or maybe she didn’t like the way she was feeling. “I am sorry to have imposed upon you with this trivial matter,” she said royally, and turned away.

  “Aria,” he said in a voice that made her halt. He stepped in front of her. “Your questions are quite valid. Before I submitted my proposal of marriage to the king, I gave a great deal of thought to the matter. Marriage is indeed a serious undertaking, but I have every reason to believe we will be most compatible. We have been reared in the same way, I to be a king and you to be a queen. We know the same people; we know the protocol of the monarchy. I think we shall make an admirable marriage.”

  Aria’s shoulders drooped. “I see. Yes, I think we will make an admirable royal couple.” She looked down at her hands.

  “Is there something else?”

  He was standing very close to her but he made no effort to touch her.

  There was no way to say it but to blurt it out. “But what about us? What about me as a woman? Do you feel anything for me besides as a queen?”

  Julian’s expression didn’t change, but he reached out and put his hand to the back of her head and drew her to him, then kissed her with what could only be expressed as long-repressed desire. When he pulled away, Aria still had her eyes closed and her mouth open.

  “I look forward to the wedding night with great anticipation,” he whispered, and she could feel his breath on her face.

  Aria opened her eyes and straightened her body. “I did wonder,” she managed to say at last.

  At that Julian smiled at her, and he smiled with great warmth. “You are a beautiful, desirable young woman. How could you have doubted that I am longing to make love to you?”

  “I…I guess I never thought about it.” Once again he was standing away from her, looking at her.

  “Has something happened?” he asked softly. “Tonight at dinner you seemed different, as if you were worried about something.”

  The thought that he had noticed made her smile. She had agreed to their marriage without giving the marriage much thought. She had been much more interested in his ancestors and his training than she was in Julian as a man. But now it was different. Now she understood more of what went on between a husband and wife.

  “In America,” she said, beginning slowly, “in America I saw young lovers holding hands, walking together, and kissing on park benches.”

  “I had envisioned America to be like that,” Julian said with disapproval.

  “America is a wonderful place,” Aria snapped. “There is a feeling there of moving forward. Nothing remains the same. They are not burdened with hundreds of years of tradition; they accept what is new. In fact, they seek the new.”

  “Lovers in a park is not new,” Julian said, amused and smiling. “I forget how young you are. You have never seemed to want courting. You accepted my marriage proposal without seeming to want more than a handshake and a ring. Was I wrong?”

  “No, but things happened in America…”

  “The sight of the lovers made you wonder what it would be like if you had your own lover?”

  “Something of that sort,” she murmured, then looked straight at him. “Julian, I want our marriage to work. I need for it to work. It has to be more than a marriage for Lanconia. I am a woman and I want to be loved for myself and not just for my crown.”

  Julian looked even more amused. “No one has ever asked something easier of me. Shall I court you?” He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. “Shall
I show up at your door carrying a bouquet of wildflowers? Shall I sing love songs under your window? Shall I whisper love words into your pretty ear?”

  “That will do for a start,” she said, watching him kiss her hand.

  “I will meet you at dawn and we will ride.”

  “At dawn? But I am scheduled to ride at nine.”

  “Break it,” he said commandingly. “I will come for you at dawn, but now I must escort you back to the White Horse Courtyard. We will be seen by fewer people if we enter there.”

  He turned around and motioned for her to lead, as was her right, but then he smiled and pulled her arm through his.

  At the edge of the courtyard she turned to him. “Will you kiss me again?” He glanced at the windows of the palace and seemed to hesitate. “Please, Julian. I need to know that our marriage will be good. I need to forget—”

  He put two fingers over her lips. “We all have things we wish to forget. I will kiss you until you can bear no more, my darling.” Slowly, he drew her into his arms and kissed her as if she were Rita Hayworth and Betty Grable rolled into one.

  He released her. “Now go!” he ordered, smiling. “I will see you in the morning.”

  She started to move away but he caught her hand.

  “If it takes kissing to make you forget, you will have amnesia by noon tomorrow.” He released her and she ran inside the palace.

  Lady Werta was waiting for her. “What did he say? Did he guess? He was close to Princess Aria so he might know that you weren’t she. They may have shared lovers’ jokes.”

  The woman was beginning to bore Aria. “Go to your bed. I have no more need of you tonight.”

  “But I—”

  “Go!” Aria snapped.

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness,” Lady Werta said, and retreated backward.

  Upstairs Aria stood still as her dressers removed her gown and put on her nightgown. She didn’t speak to them as they worked, and when they turned out the light and bid her good night, she still didn’t speak.

  She settled down to sleep and she felt good for the first time in days. Perhaps her life was not going to come apart because she no longer lived with Lieutenant Jarl Montgomery. Perhaps she could forget him and make a life of her own.

  Tomorrow she planned to give all of her attention to Count Julian. He was the man Lanconia needed and he was the perfect husband for her. All she had to do was make herself fall in love with him—and judging by his kisses, that wouldn’t be overly difficult.

  As she went to sleep, though, her self-control faded and she began to remember Jarl sitting in the bathtub, Jarl tasting her fried chicken and telling her she should have been a chef, Jarl touching her breasts.

  Chapter Seventeen

  SHE had just fallen asleep when the door burst open and the light was turned on. In a flurry of silk petticoats, blond hair, and layers of diamonds, Princess Eugenia jumped into Aria’s bed.

  “I’ve missed you,” Gena said, throwing her arms about her sister’s neck. “Please don’t tell me to behave myself and please don’t tell me to leave. I’ve just ridden all night with the most divine man to get here as soon as I heard you were well enough to receive visitors.” She hugged Aria tighter. “Aria, they said you nearly died. I couldn’t have borne to have to be queen.”

  Aria, smiling, held her sixteen-year-old sister at arm’s length. “I wouldn’t like for you to be queen either.”

  “Are you going to send me away? Tell me so I won’t get comfortable.”

  “No,” Aria said, “I’m not going to send you away. Tell me what has happened while I’ve been away.”

  Gena stretched out on the bed. She was very pretty, and pretty in a modern sort of way, Aria thought jealously. Put her in a bathing suit and she would win any beauty contest in America. Too bad she had cotton for a brain.

  “The same as usual.” Gena sighed. “Nothing ever happens here. But you went to America. Was it filled with soldiers? Were they all as divinely handsome as my American soldier?”

  “What is this about?” Aria asked sharply. “Have you fallen in love again?”

  “Don’t scold me, Aria, please don’t. Grans has hired him for something or other—something to do with the peasants—but my soldier allowed me to ride around the countryside with him. He even let me sit in the front seat beside him. He acted as if he were reluctant to have me, but I won him over. He is a most handsome man and he’s smart—Grans says so. Oh, Aria, you’re going to adore him, at least I hope you do, because Grans sent him here to work with you.”

  “With me? Doing what?”

  “I don’t know, but I think he may be coming here to put all of us in order. I’ve never seen Grans like anybody so much. They sat up late and drank and told each other vulgar stories. Ned nearly died, but Grans looked the best he has in years.”

  Aria sat up straighter in bed. “I wish you’d stick to the story. What is this American to do here? Has he come about the vanadium?”

  Gena’s eyes were beginning to close. “Aria, may I sleep here with you? It’s so far to my chamber. Call someone to undress me and fetch my nightgown.”

  “Here,” Aria said impatiently. “I’ll help you undress and you can wear one of my nightgowns.”

  Gena’s eyes flew open. “Wear someone else’s nightgown?”

  “Don’t be a prude. I have slept on sheets slept on by other people.”

  “No,” Gena gasped, stunned into speechlessness.

  Aria pulled her sister out of bed then began to remove Gena’s clothes.

  “Are you sure you know how to do this?” Gena asked.

  “It would help if you weren’t an inert weight. Lift your arms. Now tell me what Grans has hired this American for.”

  “Something about dams, I believe. He is so handsome. Ouch! I think I should call my dresser.”

  “Gena,” Aria said softly. “What is this man’s name?”

  “Lieutenant Jarl Montgomery. He is so nice and—Aria! Where are you going? You can’t leave me here in my underwear.”

  “Gena, look in the closet and find a nightgown and put it on yourself. It’s very easy. Where is Lieutenant Montgomery staying?”

  “The State Bedroom—Rowan’s room—so you know Grans thinks he’s important. But I’m sure he’s in bed by now. Aria! Don’t leave me,” Gena called, but Aria was already out of the room.

  Aria knew the palace well and she was able to make her way down twisting corridors, through state rooms where no guards stood, down a very narrow spiral staircase, where she hid in the shadows as two laughing guards walked past.

  She threw open the door to the State Bedroom. It was the room reserved for Lanconia’s most honored guests. Its big, old, carved four-poster was draped in specially woven red Italian brocade, the walls covered in a matching red silk. No one was sure but it was rumored that Rowan had used this room when this part of the palace was a stone castle.

  J.T. was wearing only a towel about his middle, his hair wet. “What are you doing here?” she asked, leaning against the closed door.

  “Her Royal Highness herself. Now this is a welcome. I was just wondering if I pulled one of these cords on the wall, would one of those pretty maids wearing a short skirt and black stockings come and warm my bed. Instead, I get the princess. Come on, honey, get your clothes off and let’s get to it. I’m ready.”

  “Lieutenant Montgomery,” she said through her teeth. “What are you doing in Lanconia?”

  J.T. continued drying his hair. “I’m not here because I want to be. My president and your king have requested my services. Contrary to what I’ve been told, they think your life is still in danger. I’m to protect you and do what I can with your…ah, peasants.”

  “But my grandfather knows nothing.”

  “He’s heard enough to know there could be some trouble,” J.T. answered quickly.

  “You cannot stay. It is not possible. I will arrange for your transportation back to America tomorrow. Good night, Lieutenant.”

 
; J.T. caught her as she was leaving and pulled her back into the room. His towel slipped and he grabbed it with one hand while leaning his other hand on the wall behind her head. “I told you: this is not up to me, but my war assignment is to guard your life. Roosevelt seems to think I’m of more value here trailing after you and picking up your hankies than I would be in a fighting zone. So I’m staying.”

  She ducked from under his arm and walked to the other side of the room. “How long must you remain?”

  “Until I know you’re safe or until your grandfather says I can go.”

  “There will have to be rules. You cannot treat me with the insolence that is your normal manner. You will have to use the proper forms of address.” She turned back toward him and saw how he narrowed his eyes at her. “The time in America was not something that can be repeated. Here I am not your wife.”

  J.T. didn’t speak for a moment. “I married you to help my country and I’m staying here for my country. No other reason. As far as I’m concerned, our marriage is over.”

  “Does that include your jealousy?” she asked, one eyebrow arched. “Count Julian and I will be planning our wedding. His family is a very old one and the marriage is advantageous to my family. I cannot have you throwing him in a swimming pool.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” he said, anger in his eyes. “I might be jealous of my wife, but Her Royal Highness stirs no such feelings.” He looked her up and down, standing there in her prim, high-necked nightgown and heavy brocaded robe that looked as impenetrable as armor.

  She turned away again because the sight of him in just his towel was beginning to make her remember their nights together. “How are you to be introduced?” she asked.

  “Supposedly I have been sent here by my government to buy the vanadium, but I am also to discuss military bases here. The king wants you to show me Escalon and the outlying country because, the story is, America is considering buying your country.”

  “Doing what?” She whirled on him. “America is to buy my country?”

  “That’s the story I hear. Actually, from what I’ve seen, we wouldn’t have the place. We’re just getting over one depression and this place might send us into another one. But the story gives us a reason to spend time together. You’re to show me the household accounts. You’re to teach me about your country and, in general, be very nice to me. You’re to—dare I use the word—seduce me into liking your country.”