by Carolyn Rae
“In the first place,” he said, “she’d have to be a princess, or at least have some kind of title. My mother was the youngest princess of Sweden, a late-in-life child of the king and queen. They were overjoyed when my father said he wanted to marry her.”
His gaze met hers. “And any woman I’d consent to marry would have to be someone I would enjoy looking at.”
“Just like a man. You think looks are more important than the person inside.”
“I couldn’t be enthusiastic about a bride who didn’t set me on fire and make me want to get her alone—like you do. Of course, there is such a thing as a Morganic Marriage.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, for instance, if I married a woman not of noble birth, the king might insist on a Morganic Marriage. I would still be king, and we could be married, but our children would not be eligible to inherit the throne.”
Tricia frowned. “That doesn’t seem fair to the children, to be disinherited at birth.” She suppressed a sigh. She had to stop encouraging his kisses and stop thinking about how tall and handsome he was, or how charming he was. He could be forceful when needed, like when the two men shot at him on the mountains. Lawrence was great at fencing. He could defend her with a sword. She could have used his help earlier today.
He must care about her a little. He’d scowled, knowing she’d danced with Roberto. He’d never complained about being kidnapped, and it was partly her fault because she’d snubbed Roberto.
His kisses would live in her dreams. She’d remember always how it felt, how his lips molded perfectly with hers. How his gaze seemed to say you enchant me.
Then she remembered his proposition. Becoming his mistress was all she could aspire to. That would never be enough.
A guard strode into the garden, his boots ringing against the gray slate slabs making up the pathway. She and Lawrence sprang apart. “Your Highness, a woman with a scarf covering her hair gave me this and said to deliver it to you immediately.” He handed Lawrence an envelope, turned on his heel, and strode back to the front gates.
Lawrence broke the seal and read the enclosure. “It’s a letter from Allysa. She’s with that professor on the Isle of Capri. The address is smudged so I can’t read it, but I need to go there right away.” He paused. “I’ll need two soldiers, my valet, and—”
“I’ll get Serena to pack plenty of clothes. Allysa might need a change.” Knowing the princess might be pregnant, Tricia decided she’d help Serena pick loose-fitting ones. She swallowed a sigh. Soon she’d leave the palace and Prince Lawrence’s disturbing company. Her dream existence would come to an end sooner than she’d expected. Perhaps it was better this way.
The prince frowned. “I’m not taking you. The trip could be dangerous. I’ll take three of my men. You and your sisters will stay here.”
“But I need to go with you. If she’s sick, she might need a woman. I assisted my mother when she had morning sickness while she was pregnant with Cindy.”
“Allysa can’t be pregnant. That would be too shameful.”
“But if she is?”
“You’d have to be princess for a longer time. We can’t have a scandal like that. You can go out in the country on goodwill occasions. Speak to school children and at civic meetings. Tell them we have a Lions Club and the Rotary, all the trappings of modern civilization.”
Tricia gasped. “But I can’t give speeches. I was salutatorian at my high school graduation, and I had to read the speech without looking at the audience. My knees shook so much I had to hold onto the podium to keep upright until I finished.”
“But didn’t you feel relieved after you gave your speech?”
She shook her head. “Afterward I had to run off stage. Barely made it to the ladies’ room before I threw up. I vowed I’d never give a speech again.”
He patted her forearm. “But you said a few words when the ambassador came.”
“Yes, but I couldn’t say more because of my accent.”
“People in other countries probably won’t notice your accent. You can do it. I’ll help you rehearse. All you have to do is memorize some good things to say about the progress Cordillera has made.
Tricia swallowed. It probably was time to get over her fears of public speaking, but she wasn’t sure she could do it without making an ass of herself. She glanced at Lawrence. Had he been trying to change the subject so she wouldn’t keep insisting she go with him to the Isle of Capri? She fisted her hands on her hips. “Please don’t leave me behind. I’ve never been there, and I don’t want to miss what could be my only chance to see it.”
Lawrence fingered his chin. “It is a delightful place to visit. The hotels are rather costly, but that is not a problem. Your safety is. Who knows how many ruffians lurk near the shops to accost unsuspecting tourists. It’s not safe for you and your sisters.”
“My sisters can go home now. My parents are back, but I really want to go with you.” She put her hand on his forearm. “Please?”
* * *
Enveloped in the smell of roses, Lawrence couldn’t tell whether it came from the blooms or from Tricia herself. The pink in her cheeks and the expectant look in her eyes tugged at him. On Capri, they’d be out of the public eye, and if he took only the most discreet soldiers with him, he’d be able to kiss her properly and maybe more . . . if she let him.
Her smile enchanted him. He couldn’t say ‘no.’ He took a deep breath, wondering if he would regret his decision. “If you promise to stay close to me and my bodyguards, I suppose it would not be too dangerous.” Heaven only knew what he would do if something happened to her there.
Tricia grasped his hand. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
“Is that all I get? How about a kiss?”
She shook her head. “Much as I’d enjoy that, I don’t dare. The guard found us. Someone else might.”
“Once we get there, I am going to find someplace to get you alone, where no one can watch.” He smiled in anticipation.
* * *
Tricia met his compelling gaze, startled at its intensity. Flames came to life within. He might not want to stop at a kiss. Dare she risk it? Strong yearning made her wish she could. How she’d love to see his masculine form bared for her. How she’d love to feel his hands on her breasts, feel his warm skin pressed against her bare body from neck to toes. He’d be a fantastic lover. Just the thought of that made her sizzle all over.
Too bad it could never happen. Even on Capri, there’d be nowhere they could go and not risk being discovered.
Chapter Seventeen
Tricia surveyed the two suitcases and a garment bag set out in Allysa’s bedroom. Her maid was packing cosmetics in a small overnight case.
“Serena, there’s no way I’m going to need all this stuff.”
“Your Highness, you cannot know what occasions you may have to dress for. A princess must be properly dressed at all times. And I need to include clothes for Princess Allysa. Cordillera’s image is at stake. As your maid, I must also look presentable.” Tricia glanced toward the hall. A tapestry garment bag sat just outside the door.
She was glad Serena would be going. That would limit the times she and the prince would be alone together. She didn’t need to become more attached to him. She’d have to burn the midnight oil to get her dissertation done in time.
At such a romantic place, she needed to keep temptation to a minimum. On the plane, she’d have to sit beside his muscular body, meet his gaze, listen to his deep velvet voice, and ignore him … right.
Maybe if she took a book and pretended to be engrossed, he’d leave her alone.
Serena pointed to the chair in front of the dressing table. “If Your Highness will sit, I can arrange your hair.”
Tricia sat before the mirror with an ornate golden frame. Serena brushed her hair until it shone with reddish glints in the sunlight streaming in the window. The maid pointed to a crystal perfume bottle. “If Your Highness would dab on some of that wild-flower pe
rfume—Princess Allysa says it’s too tame, but I believe it will suit you.”
Tricia glanced at Serena. Was she hinting that Tricia was ordinary and couldn’t carry off a more exotic perfume? Deep in her heart, Tricia knew she’d never make it as a real princess. She took a whiff of the perfume, a light scent that reminded her of wild roses growing by the wayside. Unfortunately, Serena was right. Tricia felt more at home with the scent. She smoothed a little of the refreshing liquid on her neck and wrists.
She might wear the clothes and make-up, but talking to people, even one on one as a princess, still scared her. What if she forgot to use proper English and let some slang slip in? What if they asked her about the history of Cordillera? She’d have to ask Prince Lawrence to tell her more about it. At least that was a safe topic of conversation.
“Serena,” she said, “I almost forgot. Would you please pack some appropriate jewelry?”
Serena nodded and fingered the cameo she wore.
“Did someone special give that to you?” Tricia hoped she wasn’t being too personal, but Serena had never mentioned a boyfriend.
A dreamy look came into her maid’s eyes, followed by a frown. “A gentleman gave it to me. He brought it from Florence, Italy. Said the face reminded him of me.”
“But you’re not seeing him anymore?”
Her maid frowned. “Oh, I see him often, but he acts as if we were never close.”
“Then he lives in town or works in the palace?”
Serena’s eyes clouded over. “I don’t wish to talk about him.”
After lunch Tricia stood in the doorway of the palace, wondering how all their luggage would fit in a plane. Two limousines drove up, and the servants quickly packed everything. Prince Lawrence appeared, dangling sunglasses.
Two hours later, she and Serena, the prince, his valet, and two soldiers climbed into the plane. Pierre, with black wavy hair and an engaging grin, and Jose, stocky and quiet, carried their luggage. Wondering how they would travel across the Mediterranean Sea, Tricia was surprised when they stopped at a small airport, and even more surprised when the prince himself climbed into the cockpit. “Surely, you aren’t going to fly the plane?” she asked.
He laughed, his rich baritone chuckle delighting her almost as much as the crinkles around his eyes completing his smile. “Afraid?”
She gulped. “I guess you’ve taken flying lessons or you wouldn’t be sitting there.”
He nodded. “I’m quite good, especially at flying out of our mountain-surrounded kingdom. My teacher was very exacting. He said I passed the test with flying colors.”
“Are we going to fly over the ocean? That’s scary. I didn’t look out the window the whole time I flew here from the United States.”
Prince Lawrence patted her shoulder. “We are only flying over the Mediterranean Sea, not the Atlantic Ocean, but you don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.”
Tricia was about to sit in one of the eight passenger seats when Lawrence beckoned to her. “Don’t you want to sit up here in the cockpit next to me?”
“Sure,” she said, then swallowed. She hoped he wasn’t over confident about his flying ability as she slid into the seat beside him. Sitting beside him meant there’d be no co-pilot to take over in case Lawrence faltered or had a heart attack. Thank goodness, he was young and healthy. He appeared to be checking everything over. He pulled out a printed list, scanned it and nodded. “Okay, we’re ready. Buckle your seatbelts everyone.”
Serena, the prince’s personal servant, and two guards were already seated on the plane. One pulled the door shut. The noise of the engines revving up filled the tiny interior. Moments later, the motors roared as the plane raced down the runway. The plane rose. Lawrence glanced to the mountains on their left and tipped their craft’s nose up. Seeing the plane veer toward the mountains, Tricia gasped. They’d be flying over mountains and a lot of the Mediterranean.
Lawrence laughed. “No confidence in me?”
“It’s just that those mountains. They’re so close . . . and so high.”
“Relax. I’ve done this many times.”
She looked out the window and watched the plane fly up over the mountains that bordered Cordillera. Sure enough, he cleared the two nearest peaks with room to spare. Tricia sighed in relief and settled back in her seat.
“Don’t you have confidence in your pilot? Was the ride smooth enough when I flew you over those mountains?” he asked.
She nodded. “When you flew over them, I held my breath. Now I can relax and enjoy the view. However, I never expected a prince to pilot a plane.”
He smiled and laid his hand over hers. “There is much you do not know about me. I hope what you learn interests you.”
She swallowed and pulled her hand away. Time to change the subject. “Tell me about Cordillera’s history. I found the abandoned castle with its portrait interesting.”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I thought it had been brought to the palace in town for safekeeping.”
“I didn’t have much trouble getting inside. I was surprised to see two full suits of armor, complete with swords in the great room.”
“They definitely need to be brought to the palace or kept in a museum. And we need to get a padlock for the doors.”
“Why not leave them there and make the whole place a museum?”
Prince Lawrence touched her forearm, warming it like the glow from the sun on a pleasant afternoon. “If you stay in Cordillera, you could supervise getting it fixed up and then be the director of the museum.”
She shook her head. “My degree’s in sociology, not antiquities.”
“Must be something about Cordillera you like enough to keep you here. I really enjoy your company, and I’d like to see more of you.”
“I like it here all right, but I can’t stay. Not after you find your cousin. We look too much alike.”
“But once you drop your regal ways and dress in your regular clothes, you won’t be as noticeable—to others that is. I would know you anywhere. And while my cousin is a terrible tease, you really challenge me.”
“When you were younger, did she pull off any stunts?”
He laughed. “Oh, yes. There was a time when she put crackers in my bed and then climbed up and bounced on it. I thought I’d never brush them all out. I was going to tell my uncle what she did, but then she threatened to tell him about the time I painted the words, ‘BAD GIRL’ in big black letters with a wide felt-tip marker on her bare back. It was really hard to wash off.”
“Did you get punished?”
“My mother put her in a bathing suit. I had to scrub her back with soap and water, rub turpentine on it, and scrub it with soap again. It took over an hour. Allysa wouldn’t hold still. She kept wiggling and saying, ‘It tickles.’ Mother made me promise not to tell anyone. The queen would have had fits.”
“So, you had to stay above suspicion—like my sisters and I do, because our parents are missionaries.”
Chapter Eighteen
Lawrence looked over the plane’s controls. Everything seemed to be well in hand.
Tricia looked more relaxed now. “Your country is so old-fashioned. If I lived there, I’d have a hard time obeying the laws.”
“If you disobey the laws in another country, whether it is in Cordillera or somewhere else, no matter how unjust, you could land in jail, and if you buck the customs, you will be frowned upon.”
“It might be worth it if I could get some of your unfair laws changed.”
He turned to face her. “Like what?”
“Like forbidding married women to work if they have an able-bodied husband. Not everyone is as rich as you. Why shouldn’t both a husband and wife work to raise their standard of living?”
“My grandfather made those laws to protect mothers and children. My uncle does not intend to change them.”
“But that condemns women to second class status.”
“It is necessary for our economy. We have enough unemploy
ment as it is.”
“But if married women worked, they would buy more and strengthen the economy.”
“No man in Cordillera wants his wife to work. It would be a shadow on his manhood. That would show everyone he was not able to support his wife and family.”
Tricia didn’t stop talking. “Are all the laws in your country made by the king?”
“He has a council to advise him.”
“And do they usually go along with what he wants?”
The prince nodded. “Except there was one they wouldn’t approve.”
“What was that?” Tricia asked.
“The one decreeing husbands should not do housework.” Lawrence smiled. “Of course, it would never apply to me. But I figured husbands would like that.”
“What did the council members, all men I suppose, say to that?”
“The married ones said it would make them unpopular at home. One said his wife claimed she would not speak to him for a month if he voted to approve it.”
“Good for her. I have a question for you.”
“What?”
“Would you be willing to propose a repeal of the law forbidding wives to work?”
“Just because you asked?”
“No. Because it’s fair and reasonable.”
Lawrence didn’t want to go into that right now. His uncle’s comments about him playing around too much bothered him. “That sure would not improve my uncle’s attitude toward me. He already thinks I’m not mature enough to take over ruling the country.” Hopefully, she wouldn’t question him further.
The king was being hypocritical. Lawrence had seen his uncle in the garden late at night with a person whose silhouette was different from the queen’s.
Now that he thought about it, he had not felt the urge to visit any of the princesses and noble ladies who graced the holiday dances which the queen sponsored in hopes of marrying him off. Until recently, well, until Tricia, he’d preferred dancing with young women from his own country.
Although most spoke English, he didn’t have to strain to understand foreign accents. The local women treated him with awe, whereas the princesses acted with disdain, perhaps because his country was so small. His parents had talked about his marrying Lady Constantine, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to do it just to increase their land holdings and keep England on friendly terms.