The Ordinary Princess

by Liz Fielding

  Any doubt about her feelings for him would have been dispelled by her reaction to that note. The rush of relief, of joy.

  She picked up her wrap, her evening purse, the slender gold package, and followed Phillip to the gleaming Rolls parked at the kerb. Nothing low-key about that.

  Phillip opened the door for her and bowed slightly as she climbed in, before joining the chauffeur in the front passenger seat. Leaving her to ride in state in the rear.

  As the busy evening traffic melted before them she allowed herself a moment of fantasy. How would it be to live like this? Before she could decide whether it would be wonderful or horrible, they had swept into the mews behind Xander’s residence from where Phillip led her, in some state, through to the vast entrance hall and then bowed. ‘His Highness is in his study. He requested that you go straight up.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Then, because she couldn’t think what else to say, ‘Nice ride.’

  ‘I find the flag always does the trick, ma’am,’ he said.

  Flag? She’d ridden through London in a car flying a royal standard? Was that legal?

  ‘Er, right,’ she said. ‘I’ll, um, have to try that on my bike.’

  And, amazingly, Mr Snooty grinned. ‘I’ll see if we have a spare, ma’am.’

  Then she turned and took the stairs two at a time. Whatever was happening, she wanted it over with. Now. She burst into Xander’s study. ‘You didn’t have to go through all that drama, you know,’ she said, not giving him a chance to speak first. ‘If you wanted me here, you could have just phoned. I’d have got a cab—’ Her voice dried in her throat as she saw his face, so different from when he’d said goodbye just a few hours earlier. Recognised the lines of anxiety etched into it. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Katie is missing.’

  She abandoned the things she was carrying on the nearest sofa and crossed to him, took his hands, all other thoughts driven from her head. ‘When? How? Did she arrive home safely?’

  ‘Her mother rang at lunchtime. She was almost incoherent with worry when I spoke to her. It would seem that she took off almost as soon as she got home.’

  ‘She’s been missing all night? Why didn’t Karl page you?’

  ‘Because I left the pager behind. I didn’t want anything to disturb our day.’

  She felt the colour leave her face. She’d been playing follow my leader with him around London and all the while he’d been needed here. ‘Xander, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘No,’ he said quickly. ‘Please don’t say that.’

  ‘You want to keep all the guilt for yourself, huh?’ He stared at her. She shook her head, this was not the moment to indulge herself with guilty confessions. ‘Tell me what happened.’

  ‘The plane arrived on time. She was met, driven home. She apparently told my sister that she felt unwell after the flight and went straight to bed. Charlotte had to go to some charitable function and left her to it.’

  ‘And then?’ she pressed.

  He dragged his hand over his face. ‘Her maid went up at about eight o’clock to see if she wanted anything but when she saw Katie was still asleep she didn’t disturb her. She knew she’d get herself something from the kitchen if she was hungry later.’

  ‘Should I be impressed at this evidence of self-sufficiency?’

  He managed a brief smile. ‘Not very,’ he admitted. Then, ‘My sister didn’t get up until lunchtime, at which point she finally decided it was time she had a heart-to-heart with her tiresome daughter. That’s when she discovered that the mound beneath the covers was not in fact Katie, but some artfully arranged pillows.’

  ‘No one had missed her by lunchtime?’

  ‘She usually gets her own breakfast when she’s home and then goes out riding. But for Charlotte’s unaccustomed attack of maternal duty, no one would have missed her until evening.’

  ‘She’s turning into quite an escape artist, isn’t she? Obviously the subterfuge was to gain time.’

  ‘You warned me.’

  ‘So I did, but really you shouldn’t blame yourself.’

  ‘Why not? Who else is there?’

  ‘Xander, she has a mother, and presumably somewhere a father.’

  ‘Not one that distinguishes himself with his presence. He was one of my sister’s more impressive mistakes. Or do I mean less impressive?’ He made a helpless gesture and let it go. ‘If I hadn’t made such a point of ramming home my message, if I’d treated her like an adult and let her into my confidence—’

  Laura couldn’t bear to see him in such distress and she put her arms around him.

  ‘Shh,’ she said, holding him.

  He clung to her for a moment, as if to a life raft. ‘She could be anywhere, Laura.’

  ‘No, no. She hasn’t just run off into the night.’ In fact, she had a pretty good idea exactly where she’d run to. Or at least who. ‘She had plenty of time to plan this. From the moment she left my flat.’ She considered sharing her belief that Katie had called the photographer herself, to get herself some breathing space. Decided against it.

  ‘That is supposed to make me feel better? What do they say about the road to hell being paved with good intentions?’

  She leaned back, looked up at him. ‘Hey, come on. Look on the bright side.’

  ‘Bright side?’ he demanded, with disbelief. ‘And that is?’

  ‘Well, for one thing, this time I don’t think she’s been kidnapped.’

  He brushed that aside as nonsense. ‘Please tell me that there’s a second thing.’

  ‘For two—’ she said ‘—you won’t have to pay for her fare back to London.’

  ‘You think I care—?’

  ‘Xander,’ she said, cutting him short. ‘Put yourself in her shoes. You’re young, in love and you’re really, really angry with someone in authority. Where would you go for comfort, succour? And to seriously tick off the grown-ups?’

  The answer to the first part was easy, Xander thought, holding Laura close. He’d been angry, absolutely livid with Katie, with his sister, with himself. Angry and more frightened than he could ever remember. It was a moment to batten down the hatches, keep a lid on this, lock out everyone but close family, trusted advisers. And the only person he had wanted to be with him was Laura. Against every principle by which he governed his life, he had turned to her.

  An outsider.

  He’d brought her here and he had been right.

  She had cut through all the nonsense, the headless chicken act of his sister, the grim prognostications of everyone else, his own sickening sense of guilt.

  ‘If you’re suggesting that she flew straight back to London, you’re wrong. I’ve already checked that. She didn’t catch any flight that left Montorino in the last twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Men are so obvious,’ she said. ‘They think in straight lines. Whereas teenage girls are devious little minxes. She wouldn’t go straight back to the airport in Montorino where everyone knew her. Where they might ask awkward questions. But Europe has open borders. She could have crossed into Italy in a couple of hours and flown from there. All it would have taken would have been one phone call to a friend. Speaking of which…’

  She wriggled from his arms and, reaching for her bag, took out her tiny cellphone.

  ‘Have you got the number of her cellphone?’ she asked.

  ‘You’re going to try calling her? Don’t you think I’ve tried that? And her mother? We’ve both left messages.’

  ‘Saying what? Come home, you bad girl? And be locked up until adolescence is safely over?’ She reached out, touched his hand in a gesture of comfort. ‘She doesn’t want to go home, my love. And she’s certainly not going to call back just to get yelled at.’

  ‘I didn’t—I wouldn’t!’ He raised his hands in surrender. ‘You seem to have a pretty fair grasp of the situation, although why you think she will listen to you—’

  ‘It’s worth a try. I think she trusts me.’

  She looked up at him then, momentarily uncerta
in, almost, he thought, as if he might query that.

  ‘Of course she trusts you. You stood up for her, took her part, fought for her right to some freedom.’

  ‘I meant it, Xander.’

  ‘I know, I was listening. Just not quite hard enough.’

  And he told her the number and waited while she listened to it ring.

  ‘I’m getting the voicemail prompt,’ she said. Then, ‘Katie, I go out of my way to plead your cause with some success I might add—and you do this to me.’

  She shifted the phone to her other ear as she paced the carpet.

  ‘I am so cross with you. Okay, Xander didn’t handle the situation very well—’ she held up a finger to stop him from interrupting ‘—but his heart is in the right place. All by himself he’d decided to fly you, economy class so you wouldn’t attract attention, back to London at the weekend. He arranged for you to stay with some old nanny while you’re at school over here. Pretty much total freedom. All you had to do was keep your head down and avoid doing anything stupid. Like getting arrested for being in a nightclub when you’re under age,’ she added, presumably to remind the wretched girl what had caused all the fuss in the first place. ‘Or running away.’ Then, ‘I think I can persuade him to stick to that plan…’

  She looked at him for confirmation and he nodded. He’d have done anything.

  ‘He’s nodding, okay? But forget Xander for a moment. I’m laying down some conditions here. First, you phone your mother and get her off your uncle’s back before she completely messes up our evening. Second, you get yourself over to this nanny person right now.’ She paused. ‘There was something else.’ She looked at him. ‘Oh, right, I remember. Give Michael a kiss from me.’

  She cut the connection. ‘Now we wait.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘Well, the phone will bleep to tell her there’s a message. Whether she takes any notice rather depends on how guilty she’s feeling. And what else she has to occupy her.’

  ‘Please, I don’t want to think about what else she might be doing. Long enough,’ he enquired, ‘for me to show you how much I appreciate your help? Far from ordinary clear thinking. Ability to handle tiresome teenagers…’

  ‘There isn’t enough time in the world—’

  ‘I’m making time,’ he said, and was still kissing her when his relieved sister rang five minutes later to let them know the crisis was over.

  ‘So,’ he said, replacing the receiver. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  ‘You’re not going to wait for Katie to ring you?’

  ‘I am not going to waste another moment of this evening worrying about my niece.’ He took her mobile phone and switched it off before putting it in his pocket. ‘And neither are you. Did I mention that you look absolutely stunning?’

  ‘No.’ Laura lifted her brows encouragingly. She was only human.

  He took both her hands in his, lifted them, kissed them. ‘You look absolutely stunning. Interesting brooch. There’s a matching set.’

  ‘You can have too much of a good thing,’ she assured him.

  ‘Impossible.’ For a moment he held her with his eyes, as if he was thinking of something other than gold. Then he crossed swiftly to the telephone and rapped out an order. ‘One moment more.’

  The doors opened and Phillip appeared with a small stool which he placed in front of Laura. He was followed by an elderly man carrying a large leather-covered box.

  ‘Laura,’ Xander said, indicating the stool.

  ‘No, Xander. Absolutely not.’

  ‘Can you not forget for a moment that you’re a republican with a small R and indulge the Crown Prince of Montorino?’

  ‘Not in this instance.’

  ‘Very well. Karl—’ He snapped his fingers and the older man stepped forward with the box, opened it, and Xander lifted the vivid blue bow of the Order ribbon before waving the two men from the room in a demonstration of imperiousness that left Laura gaping. Then, when they’d gone, he grinned. ‘I have a reputation to keep up,’ he said. ‘And you are doing it no good whatsoever.’ Then he pinned the bow, with its enamel miniature of his grandfather, to her shoulder. ‘For services to the State of Montorino, I invest you with the Order of Merit, first class.’

  ‘First class?’ she asked, biting back a ridiculous mixture of laughter and tears.

  ‘You deserve nothing less.’

  She touched it with her fingers. ‘I’ll treasure it, Your Highness.’ Then, ‘I have something for you, too.’ She looked around for the package and gave it to him before she lost her nerve. As he reached for the bow she said, ‘You mustn’t open it until you’re on your own.’

  ‘Is that a gentle hint that last night was a one-off?’ he asked, then looked up, straight into her eyes, with an intensity that almost took her breath away.

  ‘Last night was very special, Xander. But it was out of character, for me as well as for you.’ She held his gaze. ‘That was what you wanted to say to me? This morning? This afternoon? It’s all right, my love. We both know that this isn’t a lifetime commitment. You don’t do that.’

  ‘Actually, that wasn’t what I was going to say, but don’t worry about it. It will wait until we’ve eaten. I’m absolutely famished.’

  And he slipped the package into his pocket, took her arm and led her down the huge curving staircase and out of the front entrance to the waiting Rolls.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE restaurant Xander had chosen was by the river. The food was heavenly, the atmosphere impressively romantic. Very far from ordinary.

  ‘This is cheating, you know. We should be having pasta at some cheerful trattoria with a bottle of Chianti.’

  ‘I know, but I wanted—’ He stopped. ‘Oh, look, this is no good. I keep putting it off, but I have to get it over with.’ He pushed away the fine pâté he’d been toying with and summoned the waiter. ‘Will you please ask the chef to hold the next course?’ The man paled. Xander, however, was already on his feet. ‘Will you walk with me, Laura? I can’t put this off any longer.’

  Oh, great.

  As if one of them feeling guilty wasn’t bad enough.

  He led her out on to the small dock, slipping off his jacket and putting it around her shoulders when she shivered. Actually it wasn’t cold but apprehension that goosed her flesh, but the jacket was warm from his body and deeply comforting for that alone.

  ‘I have to confess that I did something dreadful yesterday,’ he said. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to say to you all day.’

  ‘Dreadful?’ Her voice squeaked.

  ‘Yesterday afternoon, when you fell asleep in the garden.’

  She felt sick. He was going to tell her that he knew that she was a journalist and then she was going to have to tell him the whole truth, make him look at the photographs. And then he would put her in a taxi, if she was lucky, and send her home.

  End of story. End of everything.

  ‘You looked around my flat?’ she asked jokingly to forestall him. ‘To make sure I wasn’t some foreign spy?’ His startled reaction would have been funny. If her heart hadn’t been breaking.

  ‘You knew.’

  She shrugged as if it didn’t matter. ‘Just as long as you didn’t go through my underwear drawer I can forgive you.’

  ‘Can you? And if it was worse than that?’

  ‘Worse than the underwear drawer?’ she asked, wanting him to laugh, do anything but say the words, Is there anything worse?

  His expression suggested anything but humour. ‘I could pretend to you that I had a sudden attack of cautiousness. That I’d realised just how far out on a limb I’d crawled. That I was simply protecting myself from the possibility that you weren’t just a lively, lovely girl who I wanted to spend some time with. A lot of time with. Quite probably the rest of my life with.’

  Her heart missed a beat. And then another one. She thought it might never beat again.

  ‘Actually, I did pretend that. To myself. Told myself that you could be
anyone. That I had left myself wide open. It was uncharacteristic of me.’

  ‘But?’ she asked, suddenly wanting to hear everything.

  ‘The truth? I was just…jealous. I heard you on the phone, laughing. And I was jealous. So when you were asleep I plugged in your phone and used the redial button to find out who you had called.’

  Jealous? He really had been jealous? She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Tears seemed more likely.

  ‘And?’ He was staring at the water, his confession apparently over. ‘That’s all you did?’

  He glanced up at her. ‘I betrayed your trust. Isn’t it enough?’ He straightened, then shrugged. ‘Of course you’re right to be suspicious. Natural caution, common sense told me to do more. I had my hand on your bag. After all, I was supposed to be protecting my interests. My heart, however, would not allow it.’

  He had been honest. She could be no less.

  ‘Your heart let you down, Xander.’ As hearts were wont to do at the most inconvenient moments. ‘I’m a journalist. I was a journalist. I got the sack the day before I met you. For incompetence,’ she added, when his expression silently asked the question. ‘I would have done anything to get my job back. I thought I would have done anything.’ She took the packet of photographs out of his jacket pocket and gave them to him. ‘Actually, I did. I knew you’d checked my redial. My aunt has one of those phones that shows the number of the person calling. She came down this morning to ask me why I’d phoned her and then hung up without speaking. It could only have been you.’

  ‘I see. And this?’ he asked, looking at the package as if it might bite.

  ‘This was my revenge. Having checked my phone, I assumed you’d gone the whole nine yards. If you’d been in my handbag you’d have found the hidden camera and—’

  The look on his face stopped her dead.

  Keep going. You can do this. ‘I thought you must have spoiled the film, so today I had Jay follow us. She was a photojournalist, you see. Those are all the pictures she took.’

  He stared at the package in his hand for a moment. Then looked up at her. ‘You did this because you thought that last night, when you begged me to love you, when I was lost to all reason with longing, desire, everything that a man can feel for a woman…when I would have given anything to be able to walk away from you and save myself the pain of leaving you… You thought that at that moment I was merely taking cynical advantage of you?’