The Princess Read online

  “Not if I’m eating ice cream all day,” Aria whispered defiantly as she left him. In bed she looked at pictures in the movie magazines and tried to decide how she wanted her hair cut.

  * * *

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Dolly Frazier said, leaning against the headboard of the bed.

  “Dolly, I don’t like my wife using such language.” Bill stayed snuggled under the covers, refusing to sit up.

  “And I don’t like my husband keeping such secrets from me.”

  Bill turned over to face her. “I thought the whole thing was J.T.’s business. Heaven help the married man who thinks he can keep a secret.”

  “A princess. A real princess right here in Key West and I met her. Do you realize that someday she’ll be a queen? And if J.T. stays married to her, maybe he’ll be king. I would know a king and a queen.”

  Bill turned back again. “J.T. doesn’t want to be king. You know his background. He’s got more money than ninety percent of the kings of this world. He married the princess to give her a cover and to teach her to be an American. As soon as everything is set up in Lanconia, he takes her back there and the marriage is annulled.”

  “Teaching her to be an American, ha! Did you see that stack of history books? And the way he made her wait on him! I think the two of them didn’t get along too well on that island and J.T.’s still mad at her.”

  “He says she’s a nuisance, that she’s been waited on all her life and expects everything to be done for her. She’d never even dressed herself and he says she expects him to walk two paces behind her.”

  “I didn’t see anything like that.”

  “She was arrested for shoplifting in D.C. Didn’t know she had to pay for things, and he says she hands out hundred-dollar bills to porters.”

  “So what did he do, make her learn to count money?”

  “Of course,” Bill said, bewildered. “What else was he supposed to do?”

  “Take her shopping. That’s the only way to learn about money.”

  “He took her shopping in Miami. Spent a bundle. Dolly, baby, could we get some sleep now?”

  “Sure. I was just thinking, though. What if J.T. fell in love with her? Then he wouldn’t want to leave her and he’d stay and be king.”

  “I’m not sure an American can be king.”

  “Of course he can. If he’s married to the queen, then he’s king. I wonder if Ethel would open her beauty parlor on Sunday? I think I’ll call right now and ask her.”

  “Dolly, it’s two o’clock in the morning,” Bill said, but Dolly was already out of bed.

  “She won’t mind. We’ll make the princess so beautiful J.T. won’t be able to resist her. By the time they get to Lanconia he’ll face a firing squad before giving her up.”

  Bill groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. “What have I done?”

  Chapter Nine

  GET up,” J.T. said. “This morning you’re going to learn to cook my breakfast.”

  Reluctantly, Aria opened her eyes. J.T., fully dressed in his tan uniform, was standing on the far side of the room and yelling at her as if she were in the next state. She stretched. “What time is it?”

  “Breakfast time. Now get up.”

  “Are you always so loud this early?” She lay back against the pillows. “At home my maid brought a pot of tea to me every morning in bed. It was always served in the Lily set of china. Such a peaceful way to start the day.”

  J.T. didn’t say a word, so Aria turned to look at him. He was watching her with a strange expression on his face and she began to blush as her eyes met his.

  “Get up,” he repeated, then turned on his heel and went down the stairs.

  Smiling to herself, Aria took her time dressing in a silk shantung suit, hoping it was all right for an ice cream parlor visit.

  J.T. was sitting in the living room reading a newspaper. “You took long enough.” He stood and went into the kitchen.

  “This is a skillet. These are eggs. This is butter—or it’s what we have instead of butter during a war. Put the butter in the skillet, drop in the eggs. Damn! I forgot the bacon. Get it out of the fridge.”

  “Fridge?”

  He pushed past her and opened the refrigerator. “This is bacon. You’ll have to learn to cook it, and before long you’ll have to learn to go to the grocery and buy it. Get another skillet out of the bottom of the stove and put the bacon in it.”

  Aria opened a door and a drawer before finding a second pan like the egg pan but there was nowhere to set it. The top of the stove was covered with an egg carton, a loaf of bread, a pan from last night, eggshells, and odd-looking shiny metal utensils. She thought she could make room by moving the handle of the egg pan.

  The hot handle seared her palm and she moved away quickly but she didn’t say a word.

  “Have you got that bacon in there yet?”

  She tried using only her left hand to remove the bacon but it was difficult. Pain was shooting through her body.

  “Can’t stand to touch it?” J.T. asked angrily. “Here, use both hands.”

  He grabbed her right hand and Aria gave a slight intake of breath that made J.T. stop and look at her white face. He turned her hand over to look at it. The skin was beginning to blister. He slapped margarine onto her palm.

  “You burned yourself that bad and didn’t say a word?”

  She didn’t answer but was grateful for the cooling relief of the grease.

  “Hell,” he said in exasperation. “Stand over there and watch.” He finished cooking his breakfast while muttering things about Aria being useless. Then, as he put his food on the table, he again cursed because he realized Aria had no breakfast. While his grew cold, he cooked her bacon and eggs.

  At last, they both sat down to eat in absolute silence.

  How unpleasant this place is, Aria thought. How different from breakfast at home with her grandfather and sister. She smiled as she thought of how she would entertain them with stories from last night. Her grandfather would laugh loudly at the absurdity of the Americans.

  “Care to share that with me?” J.T. asked.

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “You were smiling and I wondered why. I need something to cheer me up.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of how I’d describe last night to my grandfather.”

  “And?”

  She looked at her breakfast, a bit repulsed by the greasiness of it. “I don’t think you’d like it. They are your friends.”

  J.T.’s eyes narrowed. “I want to know how you’d describe my friends to your royal family.”

  He said the words with such a sneer that Aria didn’t care what he thought. Her grandfather often said that commoners had no sense of humor, that they took themselves very seriously and were always concerned about their dignity.

  Aria’s face immediately changed expression as she opened her mouth a bit, shifted her head to one side, and began to look somewhat dazed. “Bonnie, where’s the ketchup?” she said in a deep voice that conveyed the idea of a little boy lost. “Bonnie, I need some tomato. Bonnie, where’s the mayonnaise? Bonnie, didn’t you bring an apple pie? You know how I like apple pie.”

  J.T.’s eyes widened. “That’s Larry. Dolly said he’d starve to death if Bonnie weren’t around.”

  Aria’s face changed again; this time she made her eyelashes flutter rapidly. “I just loved that red dress. Here you are, honey. Of course red isn’t usually my color. It’s right there, honey. But I did wear red as a child. You don’t think my hair’s grown too dark for red? To your right, honey. But maybe I’m getting too fat for red. Here it is, honey. I have put on some weight since I got married. You want a slice of onion, honey?”

  J.T. began to smile. “Larry’s wife, Bonnie.”

  Aria smiled and resumed eating.

  “What about Patty?” J.T. asked after a moment.

  Aria’s eyes sparkled as she put down her fork. She stood, turned her back to J.T., then perfectly imitated Patty