The Princess Read online

  “There is no boat. We’re stuck here together for three more days.”

  “But I can’t stay here. People will be looking for me.”

  “Could we discuss this another time? Much as I dislike the idea, you have to come back to my camp. Get up and follow me.”

  She stood, using the tree for support. “You must walk behind me.”

  “Lady, I don’t know how you’ve lived so long without somebody murdering you. Go ahead, then, lead.”

  Immediately, she realized she had no idea which way to go. “You may go first,” she said graciously.

  “How kind you are,” he replied, the first decent thing he had said to her.

  He turned away and she waited until he was several feet ahead then followed. It would not do to get too close to him. He didn’t seem to be a trustworthy man. She followed him a few yards behind then the rain obscured him and she lost sight of him. She stood absolutely still and waited, willing even her eyes not to blink against the driving rain.

  He returned after several long minutes. “Stay close to me,” he shouted over the rain. Shouted unnecessarily loudly, she thought. He turned away then looked back and grabbed her hand.

  Aria was horrified. He had touched her after she had told him he could not. She tried to pull away from him but he held fast.

  “You may not have any sense but I do,” he yelled, and began to pull on her arm.

  Really, she thought, the man was too insolent for words. He plunged ahead, hanging on to Aria’s hand as a dog holds on to a bone. Once in a while he shouted orders at her, telling her to duck, and one time he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her to the ground. He expected her to crawl through the underbrush! She tried to tell him he had to cut the growth away but the man didn’t listen to her. She was faced with being dragged, on her stomach, through the swampy land or crawling. Disgusting sort of non-choice.

  When they at last reached the clearing, it took a moment to get her bearings. She was completely disoriented after her treatment by this man. She stood in the rain and rubbed her wrist where he had held her. Was this where this man lived? There was no house, nothing but a few crates and a piece of black fabric forming a little tent. No one in Lanconia lived this poorly.

  “In there,” he shouted, pointing to the piece of fabric draped over tree branches.

  It was the most humble type of shelter, but it was dry. She knelt and crawled inside. As she was wiping water from her face, to her utter disbelief, the man crawled in beside her. This was too ridiculous even for an American.

  “Out,” she said, and there was an edge to her voice. “You will not be allowed—”

  He put his face nose to nose with hers. “Listen to me, lady,” he said as quietly as he could over the rain. “I’ve had more than enough from you. I’m cold, I’m wet, I’m hungry, I got a bullet wound in my arm, I got cuts on top of burns, and you’ve ruined the first vacation I’ve had in this war. You got a choice: you can stay in here with me or you can sit out there in the rain on your royal ass. That’s it. And so help me, if you say one more word about what I’m allowed or not allowed to do, I will take great pleasure in throwing you out.”

  Aria blinked at him. So far, America was not what she had imagined. Perhaps she had better try a different tack because this man seemed to have an extraordinarily violent nature. Perhaps he would begin shooting at her as the other men had done. “May I have some dry clothes?” she asked, and gave him the smile she gave to one of her subjects who had just pleased her.

  The man groaned, twisted toward a corner of the tarp, and opened a metal chest. “I got navy whites and that’s it.” He tossed them into her lap, then turned away, lay down on the rubber floor, stretched out, pulled a blanket over himself, and closed his eyes.

  Aria had difficulty hiding her shock. Was all of America like this? Full of men who abducted one, then shot at one, other men who called one honey and tossed knives at one’s hand? She would not cry, under no circumstance would she cry.

  She knew it was no use trying to unbutton her dress. She had never undressed herself and had no idea how to do it. She clutched the dry clothes to her and lay down, as far away from the man as possible, but she could not control the shivering.

  “Now what?” he muttered, and sat up. “If you’re afraid I’ll attack you, don’t be. I’ve never found a woman less interesting than you.”

  Aria kept shivering.

  “If I go outside in the rain, will you get out of that piece of sail you’re wearing and into dry clothes?”

  “I don’t know how,” she said, clenching her teeth to still the chattering.

  “Don’t know how to what?”

  “Would you mind not shouting at me?” she said, sitting up. “I have never undressed myself. The buttons…I don’t know how…” The man’s mouth fell open. Really, what did he expect? What did he think royal princesses did anyway? Did he think they polished silver and darned stockings? She sat up straighter. “I have never needed to dress myself. I’m sure I could learn. Perhaps if you told me the rudiments I—”

  “Turn around,” he said, then shoved her shoulder until her back was turned to him. He began unbuttoning her dress.

  “I think that your touching of me is more than I can allow—what was your name again?”

  “J. T. Montgomery.”

  “Yes, Montgomery, I believe—”

  He turned her around to face him. “Lieutenant Montgomery of the United States Navy, not just Montgomery like your damned butler, but lieutenant. Got that, Princess?”

  Did this man shout every word he spoke? “Yes, of course. I understand that you wish to use your title. Is it hereditary?”

  “Better than that, it’s earned. I got it for…for buttoning my own shirt. Now, get out of that dress—or do you want me to undress you?”

  “I can manage.”

  “Good.” With that, he turned away from her and lay back down.

  Aria kept watching him as she removed her dress. She didn’t dare remove her several layers of wet underwear, so she was still uncomfortable as she pulled his white uniform on over her head—and that took some concentrated effort to figure out. All in all, it took quite some time before she was able to lie down.

  The rubber ground cover was damp, her underwear was soggy against her skin, and her hair was wet. In minutes she was shivering again.

  “Damn,” Lieutenant Montgomery said, then rolled over, flung the blanket over her, and pulled her to him, her back against his front.

  “I cannot possibly—” she began.

  “Shut up,” he said. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

  His big body felt so warm that she didn’t offer any more protests. Her last thoughts before she fell asleep were a prayer of hope that her mother in heaven would not see her like this.

  Chapter Three

  WHEN Aria woke in the morning, she was alone. For a few moments she lay still and went over the events of the previous hideous day. She had to get back to the naval base and let the world, and especially her grandfather, know that she was safe. She crawled out of the little shelter and stood. There was a small fire made, but no sign of the man. His uniform, which she wore, hung past her hands, the top reaching to her knees and the cuffs under her feet. Tripping on the thing, she turned back to pull her damp dress from the ground.

  It had stopped raining and it was a clear morning that was already beginning to grow hot. The clearing was really very small and hemmed in by the shiny-leaved trees. There was no sign of the man.

  Cautiously, after listening for him, she removed the naval uniform.

  “It’s too hot for all that underwear,” said the man from behind her.

  Aria gasped and clutched her dress to her.

  J.T. picked up his white uniform from the ground at her feet, frowning at the stains. “You sure don’t respect other people’s property, lady.”

  “Not ‘lady.’ I am a—”

  “Yeah, I know. You’re my royal burden, that’s what. Why couldn’t