by Liz Fielding
And he’d believed her?
‘Then it’ll be my upstairs neighbour looking for coffee. I’ll tell him he’s out of luck.’
Her first thought on opening the door was that this couldn’t be happening to her. Her second was that she really would have to get one of those spyhole things so that she could see who was there before she opened the door. Her third was a word the princess had used last night. Just after she’d hit the cobbles.
‘My niece—’ Prince Alexander said, apparently somewhat lost for words himself as he took in her dishabille ‘—has a mind like a sieve.’ He was carrying the jacket she’d placed under the girl’s head the night before and which she’d obviously decided it was safer to take with her than abandon in the mews lane in case it was stolen.
Thoughtful of her.
It had been cleaned and pressed and was now on a clothes hanger. Which at least explained how he knew where she lived. There was bound to have been a used envelope in the pocket. Probably several. She recycled them for her shopping lists. Doing her bit to save the planet.
Had she said she was stupid? Make that brainless.
‘Well, thank you for taking so much trouble.’ About to say that he shouldn’t have, she realised that he hadn’t. Someone else had been put to that bother. ‘And for bringing it back.’ At least he’d done that. ‘You shouldn’t have made a special trip.’
‘It was no trouble.’
No, of course it wasn’t. All he’d had to do was pick up the phone and summon the chauffeur. No waiting for buses or being scrunched up against the plebs on the underground. ‘I just meant that you could have sent your, um, footman—’
‘I wanted to thank you again. Myself. Make sure there was no lasting damage.’
‘Oh, right. Well, as you can see, I’m fine.’
He took a moment to check this out for himself before he said, ‘Yes.’
Yes? Just, ‘yes’? What did that mean?
Then, ‘And, while I didn’t travel by public transport, I did drive myself.’ This was accompanied by the faintest smile which, since he rationed them like a miser, tended—as she’d noticed last night—to have a rather dramatic effect on her breathing.
‘Really?’ The word came out in a breathless little rush of surprise.
‘I can drive.’
‘Of course you can,’ she said quickly.
‘And the, um, footman was busy.’
Now he was laughing at her. And her breath deserted her completely. Again.
‘The coffee’s ready.’ Katie came to an abrupt halt when she saw her uncle. ‘Xander? What on earth are you doing here?’
Laura felt rather odd as Prince Alexander continued to hold her gaze; it was like that instant when a high-speed lift begins to descend. A momentary feeling of weightlessness, allied with a sensation that everything inside her body had shifted. Then he looked over her head and answered his niece.
‘You forgot to return Miss Varndell’s jacket,’ he said. ‘I thought she might need it.’
‘Right,’ she said, looking from him to Laura and then back again, her expression suddenly thoughtful.
‘It was not all you forgot,’ he said abruptly.
‘If you’re talking about that hideous brooch,’ Katie said, pulling a face as he took a velvet-covered box from his pocket, held it up for her to see, ‘I didn’t forget it. I gave you an opportunity to think again.’
He frowned. ‘About the Order of Merit?’ Katie continued. ‘The ribbon is the loveliest blue, Laura. A perfect match for your eyes. With an enamelled miniature of Great-Grandpa. You wear it on your shoulder at formal—’
‘Thank you, Katie.’
She shrugged as her uncle cut her short. ‘It’s a lot nicer than that brooch, anyway.’
Embarrassed, and very conscious that she wasn’t dressed to receive anyone, let alone a royal personage, Laura took the jacket from him and held it modestly in front of her.
‘Won’t you come in?’ she asked, backing up the hall to give him room to step inside her tiny hallway.
‘We’re in Laura’s kitchen,’ Katie said. ‘Come on through.’ She didn’t wait to see if he was following her.
Her kitchen! He’d probably never been in his own palatial kitchens. Oh, well. ‘Please, do join us,’ she said. Adding somewhat belatedly, ‘Your Highness.’
‘Thank you.’ He was still holding the velvet box as if wishing he’d never set eyes on it.
‘Shall I take that?’
‘It is simply a small token of my thanks,’ he said, unexpectedly awkward as he gave it to her.
As she tucked her jacket beneath her arm, her wrap slipped from her shoulder. Since she didn’t have a hand to spare, she had no choice but to ignore it and open the box. The brooch, a bright gold oval cartouche enclosing an ornately cut coat of arms, was not large but very heavy. And it wasn’t hideous. Far from it. It had been made by a craftsman from fine gold. But it wasn’t in any way personal and she suspected it was the royal equivalent of a corporate gift.
‘I’ll treasure it,’ she said gravely. Then, when one of those devilish eyebrows rose a fraction, suggesting he knew exactly what she was thinking, she said, ‘I’m sure you’d be more comfortable in the sitting room.’
Xander had already stepped far beyond the bounds of protocol by calling unannounced at Laura Varndell’s apartment. Now he was here, he had no intention of being diverted to sit in state in her sitting room.
‘The kitchen is perfectly acceptable.’
‘Oh, right. Well, if you’ll just excuse me, I’d, um, better hang up my jacket.’
Laura backed through a door, opening it just wide enough for her to squeeze through. Even so, he caught a glimpse of a colourful but crumpled patchwork quilt that had slipped to the floor, suggesting a restless night.
‘I’ll put on something a little more—’
Her voice trailed away as if she realised that it might not be wise to draw further attention to what she was—or wasn’t—wearing. He’d spent what seemed like a lifetime practising control of his facial expressions, keeping his thoughts to himself, so even though he wanted to smile he did not.
‘I thought it was someone else at the door…’
‘Please, take your time, Laura. It won’t hurt Katie to practise her hostess skills.’
‘Right,’ she said again. Then the door closed between them. He remained where he was just long enough to hear her muffled wail of dismay.
Then he smiled.
CHAPTER FOUR
KATIE, who had her mobile phone in her hand, flipped it closed as he slid on to a stool beside her in Laura’s little kitchen. ‘What on earth do you find to talk about?’ he asked.
‘Nothing. I just had a text from Michael. Asking me if I’d like to go to the cinema tonight.’
‘Michael? That’s the boy in the photograph? The one who was kissing you?’
‘You make it sound as if he was committing treason.’
‘Who said he wasn’t?’
‘What?’
‘I don’t think anyone’s been executed for kissing a princess for several hundred years in Montorino,’ he said. ‘But you might like to draw his attention to the fact that the law is still on the statute book.’
‘Oh. You were joking.’
‘Very nearly,’ he admitted.
‘Coffee?’ she asked. He nodded. ‘No milk, no sugar,’ she said, passing it to him. ‘No frills. Just the way you like it.’
Katie’s chatter washed over him as his mind refused to let go of the image that had assaulted him as Laura had opened the door. He wasn’t averse to frills in the right place.
The ripple of lace and velvet ribbon on the edge of her wrap, exquisitely framing a hint of cleavage, had seemed about perfect. Before she’d realised that he wasn’t the person she’d been expecting and had pulled it closer about her.
‘So what do you think, Xander? Am I brilliant, or what?’
‘Or what,’ he murmured absently, his thoughts still engaged o
n the curve of Laura’s shoulder. The wrap had slipped as she’d juggled her jacket so that she could open the gift he’d brought her.
Who had she been expecting?
‘Sorry, I’m not usually so tardy but I had a late night,’ Laura said, pausing in the doorway. She’d tied her pale hair back with a scarf, still damp at the ends from what must have been the fastest shower in history, before throwing on a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting white linen shirt that hung below her hips. She shrugged. ‘But then you know all about that.’
Before he could answer, Katie butted in.
‘Laura, I’ve had the greatest idea, and Xander agrees with me.’
He did? He turned to look at her but she was cradling her cup between her hands, avoiding his eyes. Up to something.
‘What we need is a diversion.’
A diversion?
‘A diversion?’ Laura voiced his own unspoken query.
‘Something to take everyone’s mind off that photograph. The one in the newspaper,’ she added, in case either of them should be in any doubt.
‘Are you sure you want to remind me about that?’
‘It’s not going to end there, is it? I mean, you know what it’s going to be like. There were photographers outside the house this morning.’
That got his attention. ‘There were none when I left.’
‘Of course not. They followed me. I’m the story. Didn’t you see them outside here when you arrived?’
‘Here?’ He bit back an expletive as he swung round to look up at the window of the semi-basement kitchen which gave an interesting view of the street up to about knee-height and which was no help at all.
Katie lifted her lashes and Laura caught the look she flashed at her. Far from pleading, it had all the assurance of someone born with the Orsino blood flowing through her veins. It said—no, it positively commanded—follow my lead. And it occurred to Laura that telling the girl she’d have looked the other way last night might not have been entirely wise.
‘I imagine they took photographs of you, too,’ she said to her uncle. ‘I wonder what they’ll make of that.’ She poured another coffee with cool aplomb. ‘Milk, Laura? Sugar?’
‘Just as it comes, thank you.’
‘No one took photographs because there was no one outside when I arrived,’ Prince Alexander said. He sounded quite certain, but he didn’t look entirely happy.
Katie followed his example, glancing at the window as if to check. Then she shrugged. ‘No? Oh, well. Maybe they’d got what they wanted and left. Or maybe they’re knocking on doors trying to find out who lives here. Who we’re visiting. I’m sorry, Laura. This is my fault for forgetting your jacket. It’s going to cause you all kinds of bother.’ She craned her neck to get a better look at the street. ‘Who’s that getting out of a car, now? Do you know him?’
No, she really wasn’t going along with this. She’d already caused enough damage. ‘I can’t see.’ On the point of declaring herself firmly on the side of the grown-ups she saw, from her better vantage point, someone get out of a car on the far side of the road. It was a photographer from her own newspaper. ‘Oh, good grief.’ She turned to Prince Alexander. ‘I’m afraid Katie’s right. That’s—’ About to blurt out the man’s name, she stopped herself. ‘That’s someone with a camera.’
‘Well, then, if they didn’t get you on the way in, they’ll get you on the way out,’ Katie said. ‘What a nightmare.’ She didn’t look that upset. ‘It looks as if you’re going to be a diversion whether you want to be one or not, Laura,’ she said, the little sigh of regret not entirely disguising her evident satisfaction. ‘Once word gets out that Xander visited you in your apartment my little escapade will be completely forgotten. This will be siege city.’
‘But I’ll explain,’ she began. And then stopped, unable to believe that she’d even said that. ‘Or perhaps not.’
‘Never apologise, never explain,’ Prince Alexander agreed, somewhat wearily. ‘It only makes things worse.’
‘Yes,’ she said. Thinking that he wouldn’t be sitting in her kitchen, drinking her coffee, if he knew she was on the side that made it worse. ‘You should have stuck with your first thought and sent the footman.’
That, at least, raised a smile. ‘Did that offend you?’
‘I’m sorry?’ She went for innocent.
He wasn’t fooled. ‘Last night. You think I should have called you myself,’ he persisted.
There was no point in denying it. He knew. ‘Well, if the situation had been reversed I’d have made the effort,’ she admitted. ‘Even if I had a footman to run my errands. But I imagine you had better things to do. Running a country must be a full-time job if you will insist on doing it all yourself—’
‘I do not have a choice—’
‘Actually,’ Katie cut in, swiftly, ‘it’s not all bad news.’
They both turned to look at her.
‘Now you two are a hot item, I’m off the hook. If you took Laura to Ascot in my place, no one would remember I existed and I could get on with being just an ordinary student for three months.’
She’d called the newspaper herself, Laura thought in the apparently endless silence that met this suggestion. The little madam has taken the opportunity to stage-manage a little embarrassment for Uncle Xander. Once he was on the front page who would worry what Katie did?
‘No,’ Prince Alexander said finally, dragging her back to reality. ‘It’s out of the question.’
Of course it was. Unthinkable.
Why?
‘I cannot possibly make Miss Varndell the subject of idle gossip just so that you can go to the cinema with your boyfriend,’ he finished.
Oh, right. That was why. Nothing to do with her being a peasant and him being a prince. He was just being chivalrous. Noble.
What a nuisance. Poor Katie. Poor her. Just when she looked like getting the story she wanted. The one she’d already promised Trevor.
She’d happily weather a little gossip for the opportunity to get close to Prince Alexander Michael George Orsino. A lot of gossip.
She was prepared to suffer for her career.
Really.
Quite a lot.
‘Actually,’ Laura said. And suddenly she was the one who was the focus of two pairs of eyes. One hopeful, the other expressionless. ‘In view of my somewhat outspoken comments last night—’ and please, please let him overlook her most recent outspoken comments on his undemocratic leadership style ‘—it would seem the very least I can do is provide a little cover so that Katie can have some breathing space. A chance to be ordinary for a week or two.’
Katie had the sense to keep quiet. In fact, the quiet went on so long that Laura was certain His Serene Highness knew exactly what she was doing. Could see the feature her imagination was already planning.
The noise of the fridge starting up broke the silence, and she jumped.
‘It would not disrupt your personal life?’ he asked at last.
‘My personal life?’ Phooey to her personal life. She didn’t have a personal life to speak of. She’d been too busy trying to establish her career. And to date failing miserably. A situation that would change dramatically if he would just ask her.
‘Your job?’ he persisted.
Help!
‘For heaven’s sake, Xander. Just ask her. If it’s a problem, she’ll say no.’ Behind Xander’s back Katie silently mouthed, Say, yes!
At that moment, with everything to gain, Laura knew that she couldn’t go through with it.
‘No,’ she said, ignoring Katie’s anguished look. ‘Forget I said that. You’re absolutely right, it’s quite impossible.’
Whatever had she been thinking? He was a prince, for heaven’s sake. She wasn’t the kind of girl that princes escorted to premier events of the English social calendar. She read the papers. The gossip mags.
The girl on his arm had to be a blue-blooded aristocrat like himself. A society beauty. Or, failing that, a movie star. A supermodel at
the very least.
Not some little nobody who couldn’t even hold down a job.
But wouldn’t it make a great story…?
She put temptation behind her. ‘It really wouldn’t do, Your Highness,’ she said, making her point with his title. ‘I’d love to help you out, Katie, but, no. It really wouldn’t do.’
Xander knew he should accept her decision. That she was right.
But Katie was right, too. And it would deal with that tiresome photograph very satisfactorily…
‘On the contrary, I believe it would do very well. I’d be honoured if you’d accompany me to Royal Ascot, Laura.’
‘Honoured?’
She sounded vaguely put out. Maybe it had sounded a bit forced. A good-mannered man backed into a corner. He hadn’t meant it that way. In fact he’d be—
‘Delighted?’ he offered. ‘Please come.’
Prince Alexander’s expression hadn’t changed, but there was something about the eyes, a suggestion of warmth that hadn’t been there before, and Laura’s heart unexpectedly flipped over.
Please come.
Oh, good grief. This was it, she thought, slightly numb at this sudden turn of events. And more than faintly uneasy about what Katie was up to. She was certainly up to something.
But what the heck? It wasn’t her concern. She’d worry about that later. She had a date with Prince Alexander Michael George Orsino. Forget some mini-diary piece that might, albeit grudgingly, have got her her job back. She was on the point of the story of a lifetime. The story she’d set out to get, what was more. This was colour supplement stuff and Trevor McCarthy had better be prepared to do some serious grovelling if he wanted it. Make her an offer she couldn’t refuse.
‘Well, if you’re sure about being delighted…’ She matched his almost smile with one of her own. Firmly buttoning down the urgent desire to grin wildly that was welling up from somewhere deep inside.
Thank you, Jay! she wanted to shout. You are just totally brilliant!
Even as her head was running away with excitement she could practically hear her aunt sternly cutting through her nonsense as she said, ‘Don’t make a mess of this opportunity, my girl. It’s the chance of a lifetime. You’re giving him what he wants. Now is the time to ask for something in return.’
