The Princess

  “I…I don’t think this is possible. Of course my grandfather knows nothing of what has actually occurred between us, but he cannot ask this of me.”

  “He knows enough to know that your life may be in danger. Look, are you sure it’s good for you to be in here with me? People must have seen you enter.”

  Aria blinked a couple of times. She knew no one had seen her enter but the sight of Jarl and his bed was making her forget her newfound promise of happiness with Julian. “I must go.” She started toward the door.

  “Not that way,” he said, clutching her arm. He went to his duffel bag lying on the floor and withdrew a sheaf of papers. “Your grandfather gave me some maps of underground passages in this place.”

  “He did what?”

  “He said that each monarch inherited these maps at the reading of the will but he thought this was a time for extreme measures. Here we are,” he said, looking at one of the maps. “This room is called the State Bedroom, right? I knew he had a reason for putting me in this room. He seemed to think it was special.” He began running his hands along the oak paneling. “Here it is.” He pushed a button but nothing moved. “I imagine the door needs oiling.” There was a letter opener on the desk and he pried open the door until he could get his fingers into the opening then pulled the door open. A musty smell filled the room and they could hear the movement of wings.

  “If you think I’m going down that, you are wrong,” Aria said.

  J.T. got a flashlight from his duffel bag. “If you leave this room dressed like that, you will have the whole place gossiping. Your Count Julian won’t marry you because your reputation will be ruined and they’ll probably hang me, a commoner, for daring to look upon the royal nightgown. Come on. How bad can it be?”

  It was awful. It looked like no one had been inside the passage for centuries and cobwebs and bat droppings covered the damp stone steps that led downward. It was very dark and her slippered feet kept sliding.

  “Why do I not know of this place?” she whispered.

  “It seems that one of your past kings had everyone who knew about the tunnels put to death. He wanted only the king himself to know of them.”

  Aria put up her hand to protect herself from a hanging web. Her slippers were so filthy they would have to be discarded. “That would have been Hager the Hated in the fourteenth century. He used any excuse to put people to death.”

  “Fine relative to claim. Who built this place?”

  “Rowan,” Aria said, and something in the way she said it made him look at her.

  “I take it he was a good guy.”

  “The best. Where does this lead?”

  “Here,” J.T. said, stopping at a rusty, iron-clad door. “Let’s just hope we can get it open.” He handed her the flashlight.

  “Where does that lead?” she asked, pointing the light toward a corridor heading toward the left.

  “Down to your dungeons then underground to somewhere in the town. Your grandfather said the way out was probably blocked now since a house was built over the old exit. I got it open! Turn off the light.”

  Aria looked at the cylinder. “How?”

  He took the flashlight from her and turned it off. “According to the map we’re at the north end of the King’s Garden. Do you know where that is and how to get back to your room?”

  “Of course.” She walked out into the cool night air.

  “Wait a minute, Princess, you haven’t told me where you’ll be in the morning. I don’t plan to let you out of my sight.”

  Aria wasn’t about to tell him she was riding with Count Julian in the morning. “My calendar has my first engagement for nine A.M.,” she said truthfully. “I will go riding.”

  “Stay in your room, I’ll meet you.”

  “But I’m not supposed to know you. We’ll have to arrange a formal introduction first.”

  “You can say your grandfather telephoned you—if this falling-down pile of stones has telephones.”

  “We are more modern than you believe,” she said, her chin up. “Good night, Lieutenant Montgomery.” She turned away.

  “Wait,” he said, putting his hand on her arm. He looked at her in the moonlight for a long moment. “Go on, get out of here.”

  She nearly ran from him, hurrying down the paths she knew so well, then through a servant’s door, up the stairs, and into the newer wing where her rooms were.

  “I am going to love Julian,” she whispered to herself. She was going to compel herself to love Julian and she was going to forget about the crude, insolent American who was temporarily her husband. He had told her that he thought she was cool and remote, not quite human. She was going to show him how haughty a royal princess could be. No matter how much time they spent together, she was going to treat him as the lowliest commoner.

  There was no one in the hallway except for the guard who stood outside her door. She had to get past the man and into her room and be there when her dressers arrived in the morning. If there was gossip that she had left her room wearing her bedclothes late at night, her dressers would say it was impossible since she was there in the morning and no one had seen her reenter.

  American movies had taught her a great deal. She picked up a valuable egg-shaped piece of malachite from its stand on a table and sent it rolling down the hall at the feet of the guard. He watched it for a moment, then, as she had hoped, he went after it. Aria slipped into her room as fast as possible. Her heart was pounding as she leaned against the closed door.

  Of course, she had to change her clothes and she was glad she knew how to dress herself. She was also glad she knew how to take a sponge and get most of the cobwebs from her dressing gown. The slippers were beyond hope, so, to keep her dressers from finding them, she stuffed each into a sleeve of a ceremonial gown.

  It was late when she was able to slide into bed beside a warm, sleeping Gena. For a moment, Aria thought she was with J.T. and snuggled against her. Then she caught herself. She was not going to let that man back into her life. There were more important things to life than what one did in bed.

  Tomorrow she would have time alone with Julian and she would allow him to help her forget.

  * * *

  “Your Highness!”

  Aria woke slowly to her dresser’s voice.

  “Count Julian is waiting for you.” The woman smiled smugly. “He seems most impatient to see you.”

  Sleepily, Aria pulled herself out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. Slowly, she began to waken and remember the events of last night. This morning she meant to begin forgetting her American husband. She would have hours alone with Julian—alone in the dim early morning light in the mountain forest.

  She was impatient with her dressers but she couldn’t dress herself and make them wonder where she had learned how.

  Once in her riding habit, she hurried out of the room. She stole a glance at the guard outside her room but he had his eyes straight ahead. She must remember his face because if there were rumors that she had not been in her room last night, he would have spread them.

  “Good morning, Your Highness.” Julian greeted her at the door to the stables, then, as the groom walked inside, he leaned forward and planted a kiss just below her ear. “Or should I say ‘my darling’? You look ravishing.”

  Aria blushed prettily. “You may call me what you wish in private,” she said demurely.

  “Then I would like most to call you wife,” he said seductively. “Shall we go? In an hour we can be deep within the forest. Just the two of us alone. We don’t have to be back for hours.”

  Aria continued blushing.

  “Well, Count, that being alone part isn’t exactly right.” J.T. lazily moved out of the shadows of the stable door.

  “You!” Aria gasped.

  “Do you know this man?” Julian asked, looking from one to the other.

  She squinted her eyes at J.T. “I had the misfortune of meeting him in America. We had business dealings there.”

  J.
T. smiled. “I’m in charge of buying the vanadium from Lanconia.”

  Julian stepped forward and took Aria’s arm. “Her Royal Highness will see you when she returns from her ride.”

  “No,” J.T. said, placing himself between them and the horses, “that’s not the way it is. You see, there was a little trouble in America and we—”

  “Trouble?” Julian asked seriously. “What does he mean?”

  “Nothing big,” J.T. said before Aria could speak. “Just some people who seemed to want to cause the princess a little discomfort. So, to protect its own interests, America sent a couple of us soldiers over here to make sure there was no more funny business. One guy stays with the king and I’m to stay with the princess here.”

  Julian kept a tight grip on Aria’s arm. “I’m sure that is very thoughtful of your government, but I can assure you that when Her Royal Highness is with me, there will be no need for your protection.”

  He moved toward the horses but J.T. intercepted.

  They were contrasting men: J.T. dark, tall, his skin weathered from a life spent outdoors, while Julian was the product of centuries of careful breeding: his skin cared for, his hands manicured, his short, trim body held rigidly.

  “Sorry, Count,” J.T. said. “I go with her or she stays here.”

  Impatiently, Julian snapped his riding crop against his tall, polished boots. “I will not tolerate—”

  “What’s a matter, Count?” J.T. said jovially. “ ’Fraid I’ll interfere in your time with the lady? I’ll stay way back and you two can moon all you want.” He winked at Count Julian, whose face was beginning to turn purple with rage. J.T. smiled. “Of course, you have to understand that if I don’t go with the princess, then the deal with America is off. We won’t buy the vanadium from a country that’s hostile to us, and if we don’t buy it, we’ll sure as hell not let anybody else buy it, which means we may have to do something warlike to keep you from selling it. Then you’d be king of a country that’s maybe been bombed and has no money since you can’t sell the vanadium. That’s up to you.” J.T. turned and started to walk away.

  Aria rolled her eyes skyward. “He doesn’t mean a word of it,” she said to Julian.

  “You are risking war and poverty,” Julian snapped at her. “I am surprised at you. Does your country mean so little to you?” He went after J.T.

  Aria gritted her teeth and wondered which one Julian was most concerned with, war or poverty? He wouldn’t like to marry the queen of a war-bombed country.

  She chastised herself for her thoughts and allowed Julian to help her onto her horse.

  “He will stay well back and we will be almost as if we were alone,” Julian said as if in apology, and kissed her gloved hand.

  She jerked away from him, then made herself smile at Julian. Lieutenant Montgomery was not going to ruin her outing. Perhaps she would give the American something to see. She wondered if he could ride a horse.

  “We’ll take the north path, to Rowan’s Peak.”

  “Aria!” Julian gasped. “Are you sure? You haven’t been on a horse for a while.”

  She leaned toward Julian. “Perhaps we can lose our escort and be alone,” she said, looking at him through her eyelashes.

  “I will follow you to the ends of the earth, my darling,” he said under his breath.

  J.T.’s horse plunged between them, breaking them apart and making Aria’s mare dance on the cobble-stoned yard. “Sorry,” he said. “I sure wish they’d put a steering wheel on this thing. If you two don’t mind, could we go on an easy path? I’m not used to horses.” His horse was prancing about and turning sideways, making the distance between Aria and Julian even wider. “Where’s the brakes on this thing?”

  “Pull back on the reins,” Julian called. “Damned Americans,” he muttered. “Why did the English fight for the place? Aria, what is his name?”

  “Lieutenant Montgomery,” she called over her shoulder as she cantered out of the stableyard and headed for the mountain trail.

  Julian followed her, J.T. still in the courtyard, his horse wildly turning around in a circle.

  Aria knew that her only chance of escaping Lieutenant Montgomery was to outrun him or to lose him on the twisting path that branched off in many directions. Her horse was rested and needed the exercise, and she gave it, urging the animal higher and higher into the mountains.

  The air was cool and dry, and as she went up the rocky dirt path, the air got thinner. Around her were tall pine trees, closing off the rays of the morning sun. Huge gray boulders sometimes made the path very narrow and a couple of times her horse’s hooves slipped, but she kept going.

  She was perspiring from the effort, and at a bend in the trail she paused to see Julian not far behind her. She smiled when there was no sign of Lieutenant Montgomery. She motioned to the right to show Julian which path she was taking. There was a mountain spring a few miles down the trail and she thought they would stop there and rest—or whatever.

  She brushed branches from her face, buried her face in her horse’s mane to keep from getting struck, and kept riding. By the time she reached the spring, she was exhilarated with the exercise. She dismounted and breathed deeply of the clean mountain air. How she had missed her country.

  Julian arrived, his face damp and wearing an angry expression. “Aria, I must protest. A lady should never ride such a strenuous path. It is much too much for someone of your delicate nature.”

  “Are you going to sit up there and scold me or are you going to get down and kiss me?”

  His face registered momentary shock, then he dismounted rapidly and took her in his arms. “You have changed,” he murmured before kissing her. “Let’s set a date, my darling,” he whispered, clutching her to him. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait for you. I think your subjects would frown on our first child being born an inadequate length of time after our marriage.”

  Aria moved her head back so he could kiss her throat. He felt so very good.

  “Whoa there, ol’ Dan Tucker. Whoa!” J.T. burst into the little clearing like a rocket, and making about as much noise. Aria had tied her horse but Julian had not and at J.T.’s noise the horse jumped and went trotting further down the narrow path.

  “You will fetch my horse,” Julian ordered J.T., his face red with suppressed rage.

  J.T. looked the soul of contrition. “I’m real sorry, Count, but I can’t leave the princess. I guess you’ll have to run after him yourself. Or you can take my horse. Brother! What a climb that was. About twenty times I thought I was gonna fall off and now I’m plumb tuckered out.” He dismounted.

  Aria glared at him. He was obviously lying because he didn’t look in the least tired. In fact, he looked ready for some “real” exercise.

  “You okay, Princess?” he asked.

  “I am Your Royal Highness, to you,” she said, then turned to Julian. “I will walk with you to find your horse. You,” she said to J.T., “will stay here.”

  J.T. lowered his eyes. “I wish I could do that, Your Royal Mightiness, but—”

  “Your Royal Highness,” Julian snapped. “Aria, I refuse to spend another moment with this provincial idiot. I shall cable the American government as soon as I return to the palace and protest. Come, Aria. You remain here.”

  Julian took Aria’s arm and they started walking.

  “Darling, I am sorry,” Aria said. “As soon as the vanadium is sold and we once again have some capital in the treasuries, I shall send him packing.”

  “I do not think I can bear him until then. He is an uneducated, boorish lout. He is stupider than most of the peasants.”

  “Not all of them are stupid,” she said. “In America I met some who were quite intelligent.”

  “How did you get away from your protectors to meet American peasants? Is that how you got into ‘trouble,’ as this idiot American so eloquently puts it?” He was looking at her speculatively.

  “Well, no, I…I mean I…”

  “Lookee here,
” J.T. shouted. “Hey, Count, I found your horse for you.” Like a knight’s lackey, he ran up the path holding the reins to the stallion. “Black brute,” J.T. said fearfully. “I’m glad I don’t have to ride him. Here you go, Count.” He handed the smaller man the reins. “Hey! I brought some whiskey with me. You two wanna share it?”

  “Share whiskey?” Julian asked, sneering. “Aria, we must return so that I may send a telegram. No, I will radio that American—what is his name? Roosevelt. I will radio him and protest this intolerable position he has put us in.”

  “You can radio President Roosevelt?” J.T. asked, eyes wide in wonder. “You must be a real powerful man. That oughtta help make up for your size.”

  Aria stepped between the men just as Julian raised his riding crop. “Julian, please. It would be like striking the American government. Let me speak to him. Please?” She asked the last very sweetly.

  Julian turned on his heel and went back to the spring.

  “You are making a fool of yourself,” she spat at J.T. when they were alone. “And where did you learn to ride so well?”

  He smiled at her. “In Colorado on the back of the meanest broncos my Taggert cousins could find.”

  “Your country bumpkin act is bad enough but your jealousy is intolerable.”

  He lost his smile instantly. “Jealousy, hell! How do you know it isn’t your little count who wants you dead? Maybe he arranged the kidnapping in Key West. Maybe he wants you out of the way so he can marry that featherbrained little sister of yours.”

  “You leave my sister out of this!” She stopped. “And by the way, just what did the two of you do when you were at my grandfather’s? All she could talk about was you when she returned last night.”

  “Yeah?” J.T. grinned. “Luscious little piece, that.”

  “How dare you,” she said, doubling up her fists.