The Secret Princess

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The Secret Princess Page 6

by Beth Harbison


  Somehow, looking into those eyes and thinking of destiny sent a thrill through Amy. Which, she told herself immediately, was foolish because he was not offering himself but his country. This was not a prince looking for a princess, it was a man looking for a replacement.

  “Let’s just see what the test results are,” she said, turning her attention from his handsome face to the brushed-cotton landscape outside. “Then we’ll discuss ‘forever.”’

  He leaned back against the seat and mused, “I believe that is the first time a woman has said forever to me without giving me a chill.”

  Amy turned and looked at him. “Should I be flattered?”

  “Undoubtedly.” The corner of his mouth twisted up into a half smile.

  The car drew to a halt by a guard’s station, and Will pushed the button to lower his window. “Gustav,” he said to the middle-aged man inside. “She is here.” He gestured toward Amy.

  The guard did not look at her. “Yes, sir.”

  “I want security tightened to a maximum. No one enters the property without permission from myself or Franz, is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” The guard saluted without letting his eyes leave Will.

  “Very good.” Will closed his window and the driver continued on.

  “Warm fellow,” Amy commented.

  Will gave a laugh. “He takes his job very seriously. He was my chauffeur until three weeks ago. Before that, he was my father’s chauffeur. It’s taken some time for him to work his way up to guard.”

  “I see.” What she saw was that maybe the people here weren’t going to be as warm to her arrival as Will was. She didn’t want to be a wimp, but part of her suddenly felt homesick and insecure.

  It was probably just the jet lag, she decided. She wasn’t usually a nervous person. She loved adventure. And this, without a doubt, was the greatest adventure of her life so far.

  She looked back out the window just as they rounded a hairpin turn and came into view of the most magnificent castle she’d ever seen.

  “My God,” she gasped. “Don’t tell me that’s—”

  “Your new home,” Will finished. “It is.”

  “But it’s—when you said this was a small country…that the economy was so bad…I just assumed…” She was speechless.

  He laughed. “You assumed what? That it would be a tent somewhere in the woods? Come now, Amé, Lufthania was once a grande dame. This castle has stood for centuries, hosting great nobility throughout the ages.”

  She could believe it. The castle was like a gingerbread confection painted with white icing. There were winding spires and tall turrets, and more windows than Amy could count. Despite the snowy, icy exterior, the windows glowed yellow and promised a warm refuge from the cold inside.

  “Let them know we’re here,” Will said to the driver, then turned to Amy. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s breathtaking,” she said honestly.

  “Somehow I knew you’d feel that way.” He smiled and pointed to the building. “You see that room way up at the top?”

  “Yes.”

  “That was your nursery.”

  Sadness filled her suddenly. It was someone’s nursery, anyway. Someone who was sent away, into the cold, in the dead of night.

  She was spared having to answer when the car stopped in a snowless brick courtyard in front of a wide wooden door.

  “Are you ready?” Will asked Amy.

  Part of her wanted to scream “No! Take me home!” but she knew she had not yet finished what she’d come here to do. And if she turned away now—if she even could—she would wonder forever if, by some tiny chance, this really was where she belonged.

  She nodded. “I’m ready.”

  He got out of the car and went around to let her out, dismissing the attempts of the chauffeur to open the door. He took her by the hand, then offered an arm to escort her in. She was grateful for it. He offered warmth and support and, strangely, a modicum of familiarity at the most intimidating moment of her life.

  “The staff will be inside to greet you,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry that you need to make conversation. It is not expected. Just stand and smile as they introduce themselves.”

  She nodded mutely.

  The doors opened and Will led her into an enormous marble entryway, with a wide, sweeping staircase that put Tara’s to shame and a chandelier that had to weigh at least a thousand pounds.

  Lined up directly beneath it were about twenty-five black-and-white-uniformed staff members, all standing erect. No one made eye contact with Amy, and for a moment she feared that they resented her intrusion on the palace.

  On Will’s command, they introduced themselves one by one, meeting her eyes as they did. For the most part, their smiles seemed genuine and warm, and Amy’s fears about being an interloper slowly dissolved.

  One older man, introduced as Christian, had been there when Princess Lily had fled and had been a faithful servant to her family. “You are the picture of your mother,” he said, his voice wavering slightly.

  Amy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to encourage the belief that she was Princess Lily’s daughter for fear that everyone would be disappointed when the test results came back. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “That is a great compliment.”

  “Oh, thank you, ma’am.”

  “It will be nice to have Amé around, won’t it?” Will gave the man a smile so kind that it made Amy’s chest feel tight.

  “It certainly will,” Christian said. “It certainly will.”

  Finally, they got to the last person, a tall, broad woman with gray hair, who was weeping so hard she couldn’t speak.

  “This,” Will said, laying a hand gently on the woman’s shoulder, “is Letty. Leticia. She was your nanny.”

  Amy barely had time to process what he’d said before the woman came at her with open arms.

  Amy fell into the older woman’s embrace and had just a moment of startled confusion before the world went black. Though she later tried to tell herself it was only her jet lag catching up with her, the truth was that something else came over her: a familiarity so strong it overwhelmed her. She couldn’t face it.

  When she came to, Amy was on a fussy wooden sofa in what must have been some sort of formal reception room. Will was kneeling at her side, holding her hand in his and looking at her with grave concern, while Letty stood several feet away, kneading a white handkerchief in her hands and saying over and over, “Amé, my Amé.”

  “I’m sorry,” Amy said, still groggy. She struggled to sit up. “I don’t know what happened.”

  “It’s been a difficult day,” Will said, still holding her hand. “I asked too much of you.”

  “No, it’s not that.…” She put a hand to her forehead. “I’m just tired.”

  Letty heard her voice and came rushing over. “My darling, darling girl. Are you all right?”

  Amy nodded.

  The woman’s face split into a wide smile. “Thank God. You are home at last, Amé. We have waited so long. So very long.”

  Amy took a sip of the water Will offered.

  “We must take her to her room,” Letty said to Will. “She must be made to feel at home right away. Clearly the girl needs her rest.”

  “Is her room ready?”

  Letty nodded. “I made sure of it.” She turned to Amy and gave a huge, apple-cheeked smile. “Would you like to go lie down in your old room? I’ve prepared it just the way your mother liked it.”

  “English,” Will said to Letty. “She doesn’t understand.”

  Letty shot him a puzzled look, then said to Amy, “Do you understand me, darling?”

  Amy nodded, feeling like she was stepping out of a fog. “Sure.”

  Letty looked at Will, but he was staring down at Amy in disbelief. “I thought you didn’t speak German.”

  “I don’t.”

  “What do you mean? How were you able to answer Letty just now?”

  Amy frowned. “I a
nswered in English,” she said, thinking it was a very strange and obvious thing to have to point out.

  “Yes,” he said patiently. “But Letty addressed you in German.”

  An hour later, when Amy had been installed in her suite and was under the watchful and adoring eye of Letty, Will went to his office to reassess the situation.

  This was all more difficult than he had anticipated it would be. He had no doubt that she was Princess Amelia—the large portfolio in front of him held more than enough proof of that. And if that wasn’t enough proof, her inexplicable understanding of German, which she had said she didn’t speak a word of, cemented Will’s conviction.

  What he hadn’t anticipated was that she, herself, would be so difficult to convince. Finding her had seemed to be the hard part. It had taken years, scores of investigators and countless false leads before he’d finally found Amy.

  Once he had, he’d been so relieved that it felt like the worst was over. He’d fully expected to be able to walk into her shop, tell her what he’d learned and carry her suitcases out to the car for her. When she’d asked for proof—“cold, hard facts” as she’d say—he had been surprised but amused. The portfolio full of papers that he’d had translated into English—in case anyone did have questions—seemed to him more than adequate.

  That it wasn’t still baffled him. It was as if Amy was looking for an excuse not to be Amelia, rather than enjoying the fact that she had not only found her origins but that she was, indeed, a royal princess.

  Over the years, Will had met more women than he cared to think about who would have given just about anything to be a princess. What was it about Amy that made her resist it?

  Whatever it was, it intrigued Will.

  He put the portfolio aside and was getting ready to leave his office when there was a knock at the door and his secretary, the real Franz Burgess, entered.

  “Pardon me, sir,” said the old man, who had been Will’s father’s secretary before him. “Has the lady been installed in her room?”

  “She has.” Will was careful not to give away too much information about Amé, as he wasn’t sure where Franz stood on the matter of returning Amé’s family to the throne.

  Franz looked fretful for a moment, then closed the door behind him. “Might I have a word with you?”

  Will sat down and gestured toward the seat before him. “Please.”

  Franz didn’t sit but stood in front of the desk. “I have heard…rumblings,” he said. “There are those who would prefer that she wasn’t here.”

  Will leaned back in his chair and assessed Franz. “Are you one of them?”

  Franz straightened his back. “It is not for me to decide it one way or the other.”

  Will hesitated. “Franz,” he said steadily. “You know I believe her to be the rightful heir to the throne.”

  “I do, sir.”

  “I will not tolerate any disrespect toward her, do you understand?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Will raised an eyebrow. “And you will pass that word along to the rest of the staff, I trust?”

  “Indeed, sir.”

  A very light knock at the door caught Will’s attention and he looked at Franz. “Did you hear something?”

  Franz nodded. “At the door.” He strode across the room and opened the heavy oak door, revealing Amy standing there, looking very delicate with her long ginger hair pulled back and wearing a green silk dressing gown.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” she said with an apologetic smile toward Will.

  “No bother at all,” he said, then, seeing her uncertain glance at Franz, said to the man, “That will be all, Franz. Thank you for your cooperation.”

  Franz put his heels together and gave a slight, stiff bow, then left the room.

  Amy watched him go, then made a face. “They take you very seriously around here, don’t they?”

  He laughed. “And you find this hard to believe?”

  Her face went pink. “Oh, no, no, I didn’t mean that. I only meant…well, you’re just so young and so…” Her face went from pink to red.

  “So…?” he prompted, curious as to what else she thought of him.

  She gazed at him for just a moment, before quickly looking away. “Where I come from no one gets that kind of deference.” She shrugged. “Not even the president.”

  “You will get used to it.”

  She looked as if she was about to object—and he knew already what her objection would be, that she didn’t know if she would be staying—but she stopped and gave him a look that made his heart trip. “You are persistent, aren’t you?”

  “It’s one of my finer traits.”

  “Along with modesty.”

  “Ah, I have more of that than most.” He wanted to go to her and take her in his arms. She looked so lovely in the infernally inadequate light of the castle that it took his breath away. “Why did you come to see me?”

  “It’s a little embarrassing, actually,” she said. “I was trying to make a phone call from my room, but I couldn’t get my cell phone to work. Is there some code I should dial for an outside line on one of the palace phones?”

  “No, you can dial directly.”

  She splayed her arms. “There’s no dial tone at all.”

  Most likely it was a loose wire. The castle had plenty of those, as well. He would be able to fix it easily, but he was reluctant to go to her room with her. He didn’t trust himself, and this was no time for him to get close to her.

  And she was absolutely the wrong person to start a relationship with.

  “I’ll have someone go up and take care of it for you,” he said. “Sometimes the wires need to be manipulated, that’s all.”

  She glanced at her watch, looked fretful and said, “Thank you.” She turned to go but he stopped her.

  “Wait, Amé.”

  She turned back around. “What?”

  “Why do you look so worried?”

  She gave a brief smile. “Because I’ve never been able to disguise my feelings.” She shook her head. “I’m just anxious to call my parents. With all the excitement when I arrived, I forgot all about it, and I’m sure they’re just insane with worry. Maybe there’s another phone I could use?”

  “Absolutely.” He went to his phone and lifted the receiver toward her. “Please. Take your time. And I’ll go up and see if I can fix the one in your room.”

  He had heard the expression about twinkling eyes before, but he’d never actually seen what it meant until now.

  “Quite a handy prince, aren’t you?” she joked.

  “I could send someone up, if you prefer,” he said, his voice stiffer than he had intended. “But it could take a while.”

  She put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that I wanted someone else to do it instead. It’s just that…well…you’re the prince. I can’t believe you can do telephone repairs.”

  Her touch was warm against his skin. He looked from her hand to her eyes, irritated at how disconcerted she made him feel. “I studied engineering at university,” he explained, even though he knew she wasn’t seriously asking for his qualifications.

  “Boy, I wish you could come back to my apartment with me,” she said.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “The wiring there is really funky. I can’t turn on the coffeemaker without turning off the television first. It drives me nuts.”

  “Then you should stay here. You’ll never have to worry about your coffeemaker again.” He smiled. “But the telephones don’t always work.”

  She smiled back and shrugged. “It’s always something, I guess.”

  “I’ll leave you to your call now,” he said. “And I’ll see you tomorrow. In the meantime, if you have any problems, call on Letty or Christian.”

  “I will, thanks.”

  He left her and hurried to her room so he could fix the problem and leave before she got back.

  He should have called on one of the palace engineer
s, he knew that. It probably wouldn’t have taken them longer than fifteen minutes to get to the phone. But he didn’t want a stranger going to Amé’s room. It was probably sheer paranoia on his part, but after what Franz had told him, he wanted to be absolutely sure that everyone who had close contact with her had her best interests at heart.

  Like Letty and Christian.

  And himself.

  When he reached her room and pushed open the door, instead of the silence of what should have been an empty room, there was a startled exclamation from the other side of her bed.

  Chapter Five

  “Who’s there?” Will asked, striding angrily across the floor.

  “It’s me, sir.” Christian rose from the floor behind the bed, his hands behind his back.

  Will stopped. “What on earth are you doing there?”

  “Princess Amé’s telephone…” Christian gestured toward the table with one arm. “It wasn’t working. I was, er, trying to repair it.”

  “I see.” Will approached him. “And did you?”

  Christian shook his head and produced his other hand, and in it a wire. “I’m afraid I only made things worse.”

  Will stifled an oath, knowing that the old man was only trying to help. “I’ll take care of it, Christian.”

  “I do apologize, sir.”

  The door burst open and Letty flew in, singing,

  “Christian, did you—” She stopped short when she saw Will. “Good evening, sir.” She dropped into a curtsey.

  “Did I fix the telephone?” Christian asked, his voice louder than necessary. “I’m afraid I wasn’t able to. But His Highness is going to.”

  She looked pleased. “How wonderful!”

  “We should get out of his way,” Christian said to her. “Unless there’s anything else you need?” he asked Will.

  “Nothing.”

  The two bustled out of the room, leaving Will alone. He didn’t wonder at their strange behavior. After so many years of knowing them, he was used to it. They were the best of friends and, at times, cohorts. But everything they did, however misguided, came from their big hearts.

 

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