Pretend Princess (Cordillera Royals Book 1)

by Carolyn Rae

  “The price you paid is immaterial. If you are going to pose as my cousin, you must dress properly at all times. In this kingdom ladies do not wear pants—by royal decree of my great, great, great great-grandfather who founded this country.”

  “How archaic. Why can’t Cordillera keep up with the times? We’re only going to stay here and talk. Why do I need to change now?”

  “May I remind you the door to the hall must remain open for propriety’s sake. I feel it imperative to warn you about a dangerous threat my cousin faces, which may involve you. But enough about that for now. I need you to change into a dress for our talk in your sitting room. Someone might see you, and the whole plan could be jeopardized. Put on that green dress you’ll wear tonight.”

  Tricia frowned. She stepped closer, planted her heel firmly on the rug, and gave him a frosty glare. “Telling women what they can or cannot wear–that’s outrageous. It’s a wonder you have any loyal female citizens.” A uniformed servant passed by and stared at her, but didn’t say anything. She marched to the door to the hall and shut it.

  Prince Lawrence frowned. “You may only stay in Cordillera a short while. However, if you are going to appear as a princess, your attire must meet the monarchy’s approval at all times.”

  If she’d had a kettle inside, it would be boiling and sending steam out through her ears by now. She paced across the rose carpet to the flowered border and back. “I came here to do you a favor. If you’re going to be so demanding, you can forget the whole thing. I’ll pack my things and leave.”

  He shook his head. “Unfortunately, we have need of your services. I implore you to reconsider.” He rubbed his chin. “The state dinner is in three hours.”

  “That soon?” She still hadn’t had the talk about protocol. Her pulse raced. Could she really pull this off?

  He pointed to a floor-length green dress on the velvet chaise lounge in the bedroom. “Put that on. You may call on Serena to help you dress,” he said, his voice deep and commanding.

  “You won’t even have a pretend princess if you don’t act like a gentleman. The least you could do is to say, ‘Please wear this.’ And you’d better leave so I can change.”

  He frowned. “It is the prerogative of a prince to give orders.”

  Wow. He was really lording it over her. “But I’m not one of your subjects.”

  He bowed. “If I seemed overbearing, I sincerely apologize. I can be gracious when the situation calls for it. After all, you are doing us a big favor. I will return to tell you more about a possible danger and inform you about proper protocol. Send Serena when you are ready for our talk.”

  He strode out through the sitting room, closing the hallway door behind him. She wondered what he could be referring to. Didn’t they have enough guards to protect the royalty?

  A moment later, the bedroom door opened. Fuming, Tricia grumbled, “Doesn’t anyone ever knock here?”

  Seeing it was only Serena with her dark eyes, shining black hair and quiet manner, Tricia relaxed. “Close the door please.” She held up the green dress. “Prince Lawrence wants me to wear this. Will it be appropriate for the state dinner?”

  The maid nodded. “That shade will look good with mademoiselle’s auburn hair and fair skin, and it matches your eyes.” She pulled a long petticoat from a chest of drawers. “Please allow me to assist you.”

  “In a moment. Let me see what else is in the armoire.” Tricia felt funny about wearing another woman’s clothes without permission, but she wasn’t going to take Prince Lawrence’s choice without looking at the rest of Allysa’s dresses.

  She walked to the huge armoire, it’s door rich with scrolled carving, and flung the doors open. After pulling out a silvery dress, completely covered with sequins, she imagined sitting for a couple hours in it and shook her head. Another dress, black and simple looking, but thoroughly lined, was a designer original. She couldn’t risk spilling anything on it.

  An elegant royal-blue velvet suit with a long slim skirt hung next to the black dress. A cream-colored silk gown resembling one the U.S. Vice-president’s wife wore at the last inaugural ball had an intricate design of seed pearls sewn in. It looked too ostentatious. Chagrined, she had to admit the prince’s choice was best.

  Tricia donned the petticoat, then let Serena slip the floor-length gown over her head. The sleeves were puffed at the top and tied with a ribbon before extending into slim sheaves reaching to her wrists. A chiffon over slip festooned with fabric roses, hung over a long narrow silk skirt. She’d have to take mincing steps. Seed pearls fashioned into the shape of one long stemmed rose decorated the bosom of the dress.

  The maid fastened the row of tiny buttons in the back. Well, there were advantages to having servants, but it seemed strange having someone help you dress. Tricia glanced in the mirror. The low neckline showed a daring amount of rounded flesh.

  Serena brushed Tricia’s hair until it gleamed, then arranged it into a high ponytail with a narrow braid coiled around it. “All the young men present at dinner tonight will want to ask you to walk in the garden, but of course you must refuse them graciously.”

  Serena was right. She couldn’t risk close scrutiny. “Will there be anyone that knows Her Highness well enough to realize I’m not the princess?”

  “The only one that will be sure would be Prince Lawrence and the man who–the man who–”

  “The man who might be her lover, is that what you mean?”

  Serena nodded. “Prince Lawrence and I fear she may have run away with him, but we don’t speak of it. The queen doesn’t know about him.”

  “But how can that be a secret?”

  “Princess Allysa has several suitors who have been calling. I hope Her Majesty will not find out whom the princess left with before she returns and explains things for herself. If Her Highness wishes to marry him, she will have difficulty persuading the king and queen he is suitable. He is not of noble blood.”

  Tricia hoped that was the case–that Allysa had left on her own accord instead of being kidnapped. For now, Tricia worried about posing as Cordilleran’s beloved princess. “I may dress like Princess Allysa, but I can’t fake a local accent.”

  “Just as long as you don’t sound like common folk, you should be fine. You will be expected to speak with perfect grammar, be well read in literature, play the piano and know about famous paintings.”

  “My grammar is fine. I am a college teacher, after all. I do know about paintings, but I skipped English literature and took drama instead.”

  Serena clapped her hands. “You should be good at pretending then.”

  “I’m still worried about my American accent. Won’t the ambassador notice I speak differently?”

  “Since English isn’t the main language used in his country, he probably won’t notice the difference. Her Highness has stayed away from public attention recently, but it would be wise to speak as little as possible.”

  Serena handed her a dainty lace handkerchief. “Tuck this in the pocket in your skirt. I suggest you pretend to have laryngitis and speak in a whisper.”

  The maid tied a green ribbon around Tricia’s pony tail and attached three tiny matching ribbons with pearls sewn into them to hang down. She held out a black velvet case. “Princess Allysa’s emerald necklace will look lovely on you.”

  Tricia swallowed. “But I wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing her emeralds. What if something happened to them?”

  “You must. It will be expected.”

  Unable to resist, Tricia opened the case and held her breath. Never had she seen three such large perfectly matched stones. Tiny diamonds arranged like flower petals ringed each gem.

  In the mirror, she watched Serena fasten the necklace’s gold chain around her neck. The diamonds flashed sparks of light, and the emeralds brought out the green in Tricia’s eyes. Her fingers trembled as she attached the matching earrings.

  “You look lovely,” Serena said. “Now, I must tell you about the people who will be there
.” The maid went on and on about who would be there and mentioned which lady in waiting to avoid because she had a tart tongue. Tricia’s head reeled with all she needed to remember.

  Finally, Serena said, “That’s all I can tell you in this short time. Later you will make a grand entrance into the great hall, but be sure to walk in a stately manner.”

  “Wait, what about my sisters?”

  “They will be shown to a private dining room. A maid will serve them dinner. After that, His Highness said Princess Allysa’s music teacher will be brought in to teach your older sister on the piano forte. It is one hundred years old.”

  Tricia’s stomach quavered at the thought of Becky doing something to mar a priceless antique. Surely, at fourteen, she’d know better.

  “Prince Lawrence has arranged for your sisters to see a movie tonight. He said he hoped they will be suitably entertained and not wander around or draw attention to themselves, Your Highness.”

  “Do you really need to call me Your Highness when we are alone? It feels strange.”

  Serena nodded. “I need to get in the habit of calling you that so I won’t make a mistake when others are present.”

  Tricia crossed her fingers, hoping she’d remember to turn and smile graciously whenever anyone addressed her as “Your Highness.”

  She glanced in the mirror. The emerald necklace made her look a little more regal, but her feet felt leaden. Her insides whirled in double time. The narrow skirt of her silk gown rustled about her legs as she concentrated on walking gracefully in Allysa’s too-small, satin-covered, green shoes. She drew in a deep breath. All eyes would be on her from the minute she entered the great hall. This dinner had better not last all night.

  She’d never paid much attention to high society. Knowing she’d be mingling among them made her nervous. Serena was heading for the door.

  “Wait a minute. Am I supposed to bow or curtsy when I approach the king and queen? Should I do that every time I approach them?”

  The maid nodded. “The princess may be their daughter, but even she curtseys.” Serena faced Tricia. “Please allow me to give Your Highness a bit of advice. Do not forget to take small steps. Well-bred ladies always do.”

  Looking down at her slim skirt, Tricia wondered how she could do anything else. She stepped into the sitting room to practice on the rose rug. The huge oval mirror showed her reflection from head to toe. She heard a knock. “Yes?”

  Prince Lawrence opened the door. After a long appraising look, he smiled. “You look lovely and more in keeping with my expectations.” He pointed to the brocade loveseat. “Please sit. There are important things I must discuss with you.”

  She perched on the edge of the loveseat, careful not to wrinkle her ornate gown. He sat beside her. Conscious of how close he was, she inhaled his scent, pleasant, but not overpowering. She could sit here and watch him smile at her for quite a while.

  His face looked serious now. “First, I must tell you about her stalker.”

  She gasped. “A stalker. Why didn’t you tell me about that before?”

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to alarm you until I had time to explain it. Allysa danced with him one time at a palace ball. Since then, he has appeared at the door several times asking to see her. He has sent notes suggesting a date. My cousin has refused to see him and even sent a polite note requesting he not return unless he was invited. However, that has not stopped him. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I and my guards will be here to protect you. However, I fear he may try something bolder, like approach you on the palace grounds if you go out walking in the garden.”

  “He sounds determined.”

  “I call it obsessed.” Lawrence opened a folder. “Here is a picture of Roberto Alvarez taken at the dance.”

  The prince’s fingers held the picture tightly. He frowned. “I’d like to rip this up, but you need to see it. I have to warn you.” The photo showed Princess Allysa wearing the silvery dress covered with sequins. The princess had rosy cheeks, but her smile seemed frozen. The dark-haired man was gazing at her with rapt attention.

  “This man is dangerous,” the prince said. I hate to put you at risk, but our staff should be able to keep him out of the palace. You will have a bodyguard with you at all times when you are outside the palace. I sincerely hope you never encounter him. Now, let us talk of more pleasant matters.”

  He smiled, showing a dimple in his right cheek. “You look lovely in that dress, but your nose—it is perfect. That’s what caught my attention the first time I saw your face.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What a strange thing to say.”

  He pointed across the room to her reflection in the huge oval mirror with its baroque gold frame. “You have the royal nose.”

  She stared at her image and touched her nose. To her, it seemed, well, a little too big. And she wished it didn’t curve slightly outward in the middle.

  His brown eyes seemed intent on her face. “Your nose resembles mine, only smaller More important, it looks just like Allysa’s, only more delicate. All in all, a nice addition to a pretty face.”

  She couldn’t help smiling, but there was no way she could deny the likeness. Nor could she deny the prince was an interesting contrast, arrogant and commanding one moment, and complimenting her the next.

  He rose, then faced her. “You look fine. I believe you can do this. My cousin has grown up in the monarchy and has learned to be more reserved than young ladies brought up in the states. I urge you to be careful what you say and how you phrase things. However, I have faith you can temper your comments. You must have done it with your students who delivered less than promising work.”

  Tricia shot an irritated look at him. “I can certainly smile and remember my manners.”

  He brushed at his mustache, his brown eyes intent. “Do not mention anything controversial, and I think you’ll be fine.”

  “Like what the woman outside the opera house said? She wanted me to talk to the king about equal opportunity for women.”

  “There is plenty of opportunity. We have several talented women, like the diva who appeared in Carmen. In our council hall hangs a lovely mural of the countryside and portraits of the king and queen, painted by a talented, female Cordilleran. How can you say we don’t appreciate women’s talents?”

  “Yes, but those are all artists. Are there any women in high places in business? Women like to be appreciated for their brains as well as their artistic abilities.”

  “Speaking of artistic abilities, I remember you said you liked to paint. I have ordered a fresh canvas, a palette, brushes, and paint to be delivered. I don’t know if you prefer oils, acrylics, or water colors, so I ordered a selection of each.”

  Tricia’s eyes opened wide. “Wow. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “But I wanted to do a little something extra for you besides the money.”

  “Thank you so much. I will really enjoy using them.”

  * * *

  Settling back down on the loveseat, Lawrence smiled. He’d thought that would please her, and it had. He’d caught most of that conversation after the opera. He should have realized she’d want to discuss it sooner or later. “If you are going to portray Princess Allysa, I suggest you observe the culture here before offering any opinions in public.”

  She clamped her lips together, then spoke. “I don’t plan on saying much. Even if I only take Princess Allysa’s place for a short time, I don’t want your people to guess I’m an imposter.”

  She smoothed her skirt. “But while we’re alone, I want to ask you. Do your laws relegate women to be second class citizens?”

  “Of course not. They can vote.” He crossed his arms behind his head. How could he explain the way of life here so it wouldn’t sound so foreign from what she was used to? “My uncle has tried to continue what’s good about the customs our country has cherished for hundreds of years. He, and his father before him, convinced the governing council to make laws to uphold those cust
oms.”

  “So, what can’t women do besides wear pants?”

  “They are not allowed to walk unescorted after dark. That’s for their own protection. Even in Cordillera, men occasionally accost women who are out alone after dark.”

  “What if a woman has to work late hours?”

  “Her employer is responsible for seeing she has an escort to her home.”

  “That’s good. However, the woman who spoke to me was very agitated. Surely, there’s more to it.”

  He crossed his legs. He’d have to tell her the rest. As a modern woman from the United States, she probably wouldn’t like it. However, that’s the way things were in Cordillera. She must think them hopelessly mired in tradition. How could he help her understand? He really liked her, and he didn’t want her to hold it against him. “The laws forbid outside employment for married women with children. The king believes it’s detrimental for the children. Caring mothers, who stay at home, will teach their children to grow up to become good citizens.” There. He’d explained it in a good light. She needed to understand Cordillera’s culture if she were to get along with people here. Perhaps, when he became king, he might reexamine those provisions.

  * * *

  Tricia rose and paced the sitting room. She could hardly believe her ears. “Restricting women’s freedom like that is terrible. And what about education for girls?” she asked. “Do they get the same schooling as the boys?”

  He stood. “Won’t you sit down? Courtesy demands I do not sit while you stand.” He pointed to the couch. Finally, she sat, and he did too. “The girls do in elementary school and junior high. Then in high school they take home economics, history, fine arts and literature.” She frowned. Their culture seemed mired in the past.

  “They need more in today’s world,” she said. “That won’t help them find a career.”

  “All the girls are eligible to attend our private school to learn about various careers including writing, painting and music. In the past great musicians and artists were subsidized by the church and royalty. I want to continue that tradition.”

  “But what if their parents don’t have the money?”