The Princess Read online

  “I don’t like it, but all right.” He kissed her hands again and turned swiftly down the path.

  Aria stayed sitting on the bench for a moment until she heard J.T. move behind her. She fought back tears. Was it not possible for someone to love her for herself and not for her kingdom?

  She stood quickly, hands clenched at her sides. “Are you happy now?” she spat at J.T. as he emerged from the darkness. “Did you enjoy finding out that you were right? Julian wants Lanconia, not me. He plans to become king and relegate me to the nursery. An American housewife has more power than I am to have. Why aren’t you laughing?”

  He pulled her into his arms, holding her hands down as she flailed against his chest. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, stroking her hair.

  Much to her shame, Aria began to cry. “I used to know he only wanted to marry me for my country, but I seem to have forgotten. I thought maybe he did love me. I’m a fool! Is it not possible for someone to want me? Just me—without Lanconia.”

  J.T. turned her chin up to face him. “Baby, if you didn’t have this damned country tied around your neck like it was the Titanic on its way down, I’d take you and run.”

  “Would you? You’d want me as a woman?”

  “I’d want you home with me throwing your red blouses in with my white T-shirts, telling me that you will not iron, and making me crazy by dancing in a skirt cut up to your hip.” He moved his hands to her face. “Honey, I’d want you there to wash my back. I’d want you in my arms when I woke up in the morning.”

  He brought his mouth to hers and began to kiss her with all the lonesome hunger he felt for her. “Stay with me tonight. Don’t let me wake up alone again.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. She forgot where she was. She was once again Mrs. Montgomery and she was free to laugh, free to dress in an absurd costume and not worry that she was letting people down. She was free to eat with her hands, free to choose friends, not restricted to people who might not write stories about the intimate details of her life.

  She clung to him, remembering and savoring those few glorious, heavenly weeks.

  Then a bird called, giving its long sweet song to the night air. It was a rare bird, found only in the mountains of Lanconia and therefore treasured, protected, and honored as its national bird.

  It made Aria remember where she was.

  Violently, she pushed away from J.T. “No, no, no,” she screeched. “You are the devil tempting me. I am not an American housewife. I am a princess—a crown princess—and my life belongs to my country. I do have Lanconia tied to me—no, we are part of each other. We are not separate. Do not touch me again, do not try to make me leave my country. If I did not love Lanconia so much, I would never have met you. Oh, how I wish I had never met you. I was content before. I didn’t even know there was a life other than mine. You have made me very unhappy. I wish I had never seen you! I hate you!”

  Still crying, she began to run down the path toward the palace.

  J.T. followed at a discreet distance, making sure she was safe. He was torn between feeling miserable and elated. She had missed him. Underneath the princess was the woman.

  But what she had said was true. Was he selfish to want to make her say that she wanted him and not some little blueblood? He was here to do a job and that job did not include making Her Royal Highness cry.

  Love didn’t matter; desire didn’t matter. They could never be together except temporarily and she knew that even if he seemed to forget. From now on he swore he was going to keep his hands off of her. In fact, he was going to help her find someone to marry. Someone who would stay out of the way. Someone not overly ambitious. Someone who liked her as much as he did.

  Someone impotent, so he wouldn’t touch what belonged to J. T. Montgomery.

  J.T. corrected himself, followed Aria until she went past her guard and into her room, then, sighing, he made the long trek to his own empty bedroom.

  Chapter Nineteen

  J.T. was waiting for Aria the next morning outside her bedroom door and started walking with her down to breakfast.

  “You cannot do this,” she hissed at him.

  He paid as much attention to her protests as he usually did. “I want to have a look at the books of this place.”

  She smiled. “Our library is excellent. We have a few manuscripts from Rowan’s time, even a map belonging to him.”

  “I want the books telling how much it costs to run this place. The ledgers. Accounts. Understand?”

  “Like the household budget you put me on?”

  “The one you overran every week,” he said.

  J.T. stepped back and allowed her to enter the dining room first and she was glad he did not embarrass her in front of her relatives, who were already eating. She took a plate from the end of a long sideboard and began to fill it from the many silver servers that were warmed by a candle underneath.

  “This is a lot of food for so few people, isn’t it?” J.T. grumbled as he filled his own plate.

  He didn’t say much during breakfast and Aria saw him watching the people at the table. She knew what he was thinking. Just what did these people do all day? Aria realized she had no idea. She saw Freddie snub J.T., looking at the American’s plain uniform with no medals, no stars on his shoulders. Of course Freddie’s uniforms were laden with gold braid and many medals but he had never done anything to earn them.

  “Ready?” J.T. asked, standing behind Aria’s chair, waiting to pull it out for her. “We have work to do.”

  He seemed oblivious to the open mouths around them, but Aria knew she had to obey him or he might cause a scene. Once they were out of the dining room, she let him have it. “You cannot treat me this way. I am a royal princess. You are supposed to be a guest in my house. People are going to say—”

  “I hope people will say, ‘You’d better stay away from the princess, or that American will flatten you.’ I want people to realize that if they get near you, they have to deal with me. Now, let’s go look at the ledgers.”

  “I will take you to my treasurer and you two can look at the accounts. I have engagements today.”

  They were at the door to her bedroom. “Let’s see your schedule.”

  “I do not have to get your approval.”

  “You bring it out here or I go in there. How do you think your old, little count will like my being in your bedroom?”

  She returned with her secretary holding the big maroon leather-bound book that was her schedule. “The Royal Society of Entomology wants—” the secretary began before J.T. took the book from her.

  He scanned the page. “There’s nothing here but more bug lectures and some ladies’ societies doings. No sick kids or old people.” He shoved the book back at the skinny little secretary. “Tell everybody Her Royal Highness is still weak from her illness and cannot attend. And from now on don’t accept every invitation sent to her. She needs a little time to”—he looked at Aria—“to jitterbug. Come on, baby, let’s go find your treasurer.” He took her arm and started pulling her.

  Aria knew she would die of embarrassment if she looked back at her secretary. “You cannot touch me,” she said in exasperation.

  J.T. dropped her arm. “Okay, so I forgot. So shoot me.”

  “And the names are intolerable. And you cannot cancel my schedule without my permission. You can’t seem to remember that I am in control in Lanconia.” He was walking so fast she had trouble keeping up with him.

  “Uh-huh. You’re so much in control that someone wants you dead.”

  “Here!” she said, stopping at a pair of carved walnut doors. There were two Royal Guardsmen standing on either side of the doors, their backs rigid, their eyes straight ahead. With a precise movement, they opened the doors and Aria sailed through without missing a step. J.T. looked at the two guards for a moment. “Thanks,” he said, and went into the office.

  Four men were on their feet instantly and it was easy to see that they were unaccustomed to visits from Her Royal Highn