by Carolyn Rae
“Any who can’t afford it can get a scholarship.”
“Where does the money come from?”
“Local companies provide grants. That covers part of it.”
“So where does the rest of it come from?”
He hesitated, then leaned back on the settee. “If you must know, a substantial part of the funds comes from the rents paid on the lands I own. Like Prince Charles of England, I’ve established a prince’s trust, but I would rather you not tell anyone.”
She raised her eyes to meet his. “Why not? I think that’s admirable.”
“I let the people think our sales taxes support it as well as providing enough for the royal family to live in modest comfort.”
She swept her hand toward the bedroom with its green velvet bedspread on the French provincial canopied bed, green velvet draperies, tapestries on the walls and the ornate gilded mirror above the marble-topped dresser. “You call this modest?”
He nodded. “We don’t want to make the people envious, but we need a modicum of style in keeping with our position. I believe the citizens understand that.”
The prince leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I came to escort you to dinner. However, there is more I must tell you before you meet the ambassador. He will, no doubt, speak about a proposed marriage with the king of his country.”
Tricia glanced at his serious face. “But I can’t accept anything for Princess Allysa. What will I say?”
“Just say you will take it under consideration or words to that effect.”
“That sounds like a business proposition instead of a marriage proposal.”
Lawrence nodded, his brown eyes solemn. “That’s how things have been done for centuries between countries wishing to make an enduring alliance.”
“Why is this alliance so important?”
“We are a small country. We need this alliance in case France and Spain refuse to protect us from outside aggression. And then there’s the trade agreement. His country buys the lion’s share of bicycles made in our country. That’s our major industry. Please be careful not to commit Allysa to anything. She can say no if she wishes when she is again in residence.”
“How long will I have to speak for your cousin, I mean I can’t—”
“A few days, or perhaps longer. I cannot say at this time. I wish my cousin had left a note to say when she’d return. Then I wouldn’t be so worried.”
He stepped closer, smelling of soap and sandalwood. She loved his scent. She probably should put a little more distance between her and his disturbing presence, but he clasped her hand and squeezed it. Feeling the strength in his fingers, she sensed he’d be a formidable foe in a fight. She should pull her hand away. Strangely she didn’t want to just yet.
She asked, “Why do you think she didn’t leave a note or tell someone where she was going?”
“I cannot presume to know her state of mind. I can only hope she is safe.”
“What about her stalker?”
“He has been here asking for her. I heard he was most argumentative when the guard asked him to leave.”
“So why hasn’t she gotten a restraining order against him? Surely, that’s possible here.”
“She didn’t want citizens to know about it. She thought it might make her look prejudiced since he has slightly darker skin than most citizens here. I don’t believe her stalker is responsible this time. If he had Allysa, he wouldn’t dare come asking for her.” Lawrence’s brown eyes met hers, unnerving her.
She met his gaze with steely determination. “You said you needed me to pretend to be the princess for a few days. Is there something you are not telling me?”
He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. Its huskiness sent shivers across her shoulders. “It’s important things appear to go on as usual. We might ask you to stay a good bit longer.”
“How long? I have a doctorate to finish.” She didn’t want to miss her last semester, she had a class to teach, and she’d need time to finish her dissertation.
“We will, of course, reward you handsomely. If the pay is right, could you stay as long as six months?”
Tricia gasped. “I believe I understand.” She stared at him, wondering if she dared say it. However, she’d never been one to beat around the bush. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”
Chapter Four
“Shhh.” Prince Lawrence faced Tricia on the loveseat in the sitting room. “You Americans have a disturbing way of cutting right through to the truth. We are not sure, but it is possible. You must not breathe a word of it. We cannot risk letting people think even a breath of scandal has touched the royal family.”
“I see,” Tricia said. Couldn’t you send her to visit a distant relative in a far-off country?”
“Cordillera is a small country. Television and newspapers are all too eager to seek out gossip about the royals, whether they be in England, Belgium or Sweden.”
“What if she’s been kidnapped? Have you received any demands for ransom?”
He shook his head. “We found no signs of violence, but the fact she left no note is alarming. We have not told her mother what we suspect. That would break her heart. You mustn’t say anything to the queen.”
“I won’t, but aren’t you worried about Allysa’s safety?”
“Of course. Serena said one of the princess’s riding habits and several outfits are missing. It’s possible she left the capital city or even the country. None of her suitors seemed to be bold enough to even steal a kiss . . . at least not where anyone could see them.”
“So why do you think she might be pregnant?”
“Serena has been reluctant to say much, but from what I was able to get her to admit, Princess Allysa has been seeing someone and hasn’t been eating as much as usual. For all we know she could be basking in the sun at a lover’s villa.” He gave her a stern look. “Do not, under any circumstances, discuss this with anyone.”
Someone knocked. The prince rose and opened the door to the hall. “Miss Watson. Thank you for coming. “I need you to explain palace protocol.”
The woman, prim and proper in a gray suit, hurried in. He gestured to a chair facing the loveseat. “Tricia Parker, this is Miss Watson, the queen’s personal assistant. Miss Parker needs to be instructed in the ways of the palace. Please have a seat and tell her anything you feel she should know.”
By the time the prince and Miss Watson finished detailing all she needed to observe, Tricia hoped she could remember what to do at the appropriate times.
Prince Lawrence rose. “I will return in half an hour to escort you to the great room.” He strode from the sitting room. Miss Watson left also, leaving the hallway door slightly ajar.
Tricia studied her reflection in the mirror. She practiced curtseying. Hoped she wouldn’t look awkward. She looked at her watch. Twenty minutes to go.
* * *
Lawrence walked down the hall, thinking how adorable Tricia looked dressed in that green dress.
Goya, his aide, headed toward him and paused in front of him. “Your Highness, the queen wishes a word with you.”
Prince Lawrence turned to face the opposite direction. “Thank you for letting me know.”
Goya bowed. “But first there is a matter I wish to discuss with you if I may speak freely.”
“Continue.”
“It will never work,” Your Highness.”
“What will not work?”
“Your Highness, pardon me for saying so, but she’s an American. What can she know about Cordillera or protocol or being a princess?”
“Miss Watson and I have already coached her.” Prince Lawrence walked back down the hall with his aide. How proud he’d be escorting her to the dinner. She was quite the lady, one he’d like to hold in his arms, except he couldn’t, not with this charade they were carrying out.
Mr. Goya sighed audibly. “Your Highness. You can’t continue with this - this pretender. She’ll only embarrass the royal family.”
> Prince Lawrence glared at him. “Do you really want to try to explain to anyone why the princess is missing?”
“No, but we could say she’s traveling out of the country and wait a day or two. The princess may return.”
“Possibly, but I’m sure our pretend princess can handle things.” He headed down the hall to the queen’s sitting room door.
* * *
Standing near her sitting room door, Tricia heard the voices. It sounded like the prince and his aide talking as they approached. After hearing them discussing her, she didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping. Carefully, she eased the door shut as the sound of their footsteps passed. Prince Lawrence thought she could do this. That made her smile. But would Mr. Goya convince the prince to forget the whole thing?
She looked in the mirror and smoothed her hair. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d imagined. She gritted her teeth and straightened, holding her chin high. She’d be Princess Allysa regardless of what those men thought.
The voices became louder. Were they walking away or pausing outside her door?
She sat on the loveseat. Prince Lawrence had said he’d come for her. She waited. After ten minutes, someone knocked. Would it look strange if she opened the door herself? Was she supposed to let Serena do that? “Serena?” she called.
No one answered.
Holding her breath, she rose and pulled the door open.
Prince Lawrence stood there, looking even more handsome in a cream-colored uniform. He smiled, showing those dimples again. “Are you ready?” He held out his arm.
She took it and stepped into the hall. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
As she strolled along the deep red carpet down the wide hallway, Tricia had to take quick mincing steps because of her narrow skirt. By now her toes were numb inside Allysa’s dainty green pumps. Butterflies careened in her stomach. However, walking beside the prince and seeing his wonderful smile and warm brown eyes focused entirely on her almost made up for her uneasiness. This was better than a dream come true. This was an adventure she’d enjoy to the fullest. For as long as it lasted.
Prince Lawrence lifted her arm from his. “There is someone I need to talk to. Just walk in like you rule here, which Allysa usually does. Act like you deserve to be fawned over. Walk slowly. You will sit at the head of the table near the king and queen after they are seated.”
Frogs scurried around in her stomach. How could he leave her to face this? She took another look. No matter what happened next, she wanted to remember the magnificence of this place when she was back in the states.
Walk regally, she admonished herself. Taking a deep breath, she headed toward the king and queen standing in the hall near the doorway to the great room. Inside, gold and silver bowls reflected the light from candles burning in more than a dozen silver candlesticks. A multitude of flame-shaped bulbs gleamed on the huge sparkling chandelier—plenty of light for people to notice any mistakes she made.
The king stood next to his queen, who wore a purple gown barely concealing a figure gone to pudginess. She smiled, smoothed back flaxen braids arranged in a coronet, and motioned to Tricia. “Come here, dear, stand close to me. We have not had a chance to talk lately.”
The queen took her hand and whispered, “You must call me Queen Mum like Allysa does. How old are you, my dear?”
“Twenty-five,” Tricia whispered as she smoothed her skirt. As fidgety as she was, she hoped she wouldn’t break a crystal goblet.
“That is only two years older than–you know.”
Tricia nodded. A warm hand touched her shoulder. She turned to look.
“Good evening, cousin. You look rested after your recent trip.” Lawrence’s voice was velvety smooth.
She hoped he didn’t make her so nervous she’d do something wrong. “Thank you.”
Inside the room the guests continued their low buzz of conversation. Tricia lowered her voice. “And where was I supposed to have gone?”
“The United States and then Paris, remember,” he whispered.
She kept her voice low. “Should I mention the view from the Eiffel Tower was wonderful with all those marvelous old buildings. But climbing all those stairs to the top was tiring.”
Prince Lawrence shook his head. He kept his voice low. “You just gave yourself away. You have to ride an elevator to get to the top, but I will agree, the view is fantastic. Choose somewhere else, like the tallest building. That’s in New York, I hear.”
She shook her head. “Wrong. It’s in Dubai.”
Prince Lawrence frowned. Apparently, he didn’t like being corrected.
She was trying to decide what to say when a commotion down the hall drew her attention. Her sisters stood only twenty feet from her. A guard barred their way with his arm. He held a finger to his lips.
Tricia held her breath. Her six-year-old sister could ruin everything. Tricia had to stop her. She tried to push past Lawrence, but bumped into him. She jerked free, murmuring, “Sorry, please excuse me.” Tricia hurried past a couple of servants. A man in a red uniform with gold braid trim was shaking his head as Becky tried to pull Cindy back down the hallway. The olive-skinned man Tricia recognized as the prince’s aide stood near, his glare fastened on her younger sister. Cindy looked frightened. Tricia headed for them.
Her heel caught on a snag in the carpet. She tried to steady herself by grabbing for the wainscoting along the wall, but her feet slid out from under her. She landed on her rump on the carpet, one high-heeled green pump dangling precariously from her toe.
Cindy giggled, then looked at Tricia, whose scowl silenced her. As if realizing she were drawing attention, Cindy whispered, “I just wanted to see you all dressed up.” She giggled. “But I didn’t think princesses ever sat on the floor.”
Becky, grabbed the little girl’s wrist. “Shhh, Cindy, you don’t belong here. Now, come with me this instant.”
“But Becky, I just wanted to see her.”
Tricia wondered if Cindy understood why her sister wouldn’t acknowledge her. Had she ruined everything by falling so clumsily?
Strong arms pulled Tricia upright as if she were a feather. Becky pulled Cindy out of sight and away from the man in the red uniform. Tricia’s heart ached for her little sister
Lawrence, his hands disturbingly warm on her arm and waist, walked with her back to the king and queen. “Those girls should have known better than to come here. I know you must be worried about them. Tell them you’ll see them later.”
Everybody in the hallway seemed to be staring. Thank goodness, she was out of sight from the guests in the great room. The queen whispered, “You must be more careful, my dear. My Allysa is most graceful.”
Her face flaming, she said, “If I hadn’t caught my heel on the rug, I wouldn’t have slipped.” She wanted to tell the queen that she was indeed graceful on ice skates.
The queen frowned, but spoke quietly. “If you had been walking more demurely as that dress demands, that would not have happened.”
Tricia clamped her mouth shut and glanced down the hallway, hoping Becky and Cindy were okay. She turned to Prince Lawrence. “I’m worried about them. Cindy looked petrified.”
“They’ll be all right. Those men are soldiers I have assigned to protect them.”
“But Cindy seems scared of them. Even Becky looked intimidated.”
“Good. Then they won’t cause any trouble.”
“But I need to talk to them…to explain why it’s important it is to keep a low profile.”
“All right, but do not take too long. Right now, you must play a part. Now stand up straight and act like a proper lady.”
She shot him a glare, then hurried after her sisters. “Becky, Cindy, please go back to your room. After the dinner, I’ll come tell you all about it.”
“Okay,” Cindy said.
Becky took her hand. “I’ll make sure she behaves.” They walked beside the guard down the hall away from the great room.
When Tricia joined th
e group at the doorway, Lawrence’s gaze at her made her wish the low neckline didn’t reveal so much. Heat rose from her chest to her face. He smiled. “That dress is very becoming.”
Pausing at the arch opening to the great hall, she took in the grandeur of the enormous room. Huge tapestries hung on the wall. A group of well-dressed guests talked quietly near the opposite entrance. The U-shaped linen-covered table stood on an oriental rug, richly designed in red and gold. The gleaming array of forks, knives and spoons at each place made Tricia wish she’d paid more attention when her mother had insisted how important it was to know which fork to use.
Feeling a light touch on her arm, Tricia met Queen Carlotta’s serious look. The queen inclined her head toward the far-right corner of the great room. She spoke in hushed tones. “While there’s a lot of conversation, I suggest you pay attention to the gentleman in the maroon dinner jacket. Edward Appleby, one of Allysa’s hopefuls is a duke’s son. He is quite an accomplished rider. He says he can teach her how to ride well.”
Tricia smiled. “Surely, ladies don’t ride side-saddle here.”
The queen looked askance. “I believe ladies have always looked more gentile riding that way. Our culture may be a trifle old-fashioned, but no one rides side saddle anymore.”
Tricia kept her voice low. “I’m unfamiliar with your customs. I must look to your knowledge of the traditions to guide me.”
A hint of a smile played on the queen’s lips. “As well you should, my dear. Actually, Princess Allysa and I do ride sidesaddle once a year in the ceremonial parade we hold on the anniversary of Cordillera’s founding.”
“So how did this become a separate country?”
The queen kept her voice low. “We began as a small settlement, separated from France and Spain by the mountains. Longing to preserve our customs and avoid the heavy-handed rule of Spanish dictators and capricious French kings, our ancestors led the fight against France and Spain for our independence. Finally, both countries agreed to leave us alone. According to the treaty, as long as there’s an heir, Cordillera will remain free. Lawrence will rule when my husband dies, but he or my daughter must produce a royal heir, a male one.”