Page 90 of The Princess (Montgomery/Taggert 10)

“Something about dams, I believe. He is so handsome. Ouch! I think I should call my dresser.”

“Gena,” Aria said softly. “What is this man’s name?”

“Lieutenant Jarl Montgomery. He is so nice and—Aria! Where are you going? You can’t leave me here in my underwear.”

“Gena, look in the closet and find a nightgown and put it on yourself. It’s very easy. Where is Lieutenant Montgomery staying?”

“The State Bedroom—Rowan’s room—so you know Grans thinks he’s important. But I’m sure he’s in bed by now. Aria! Don’t leave me,” Gena called, but Aria was already out of the room.

Aria knew the palace well and she was able to make her way down twisting corridors, through state rooms where no guards stood, down a very narrow spiral staircase, where she hid in the shadows as two laughing guards walked past.

She threw open the door to the State Bedroom. It was the room reserved for Lanconia’s most honored guests. Its big, old, carved four-poster was draped in specially woven red Italian brocade, the walls covered in a matching red silk. No one was sure but it was rumored that Rowan had used this room when this part of the palace was a stone castle.

J.T. was wearing only a towel about his middle, his hair wet. “What are you doing here?” she asked, leaning against the closed door.

“Her Royal Highness herself. Now this is a welcome. I was just wondering if I pulled one of these cords on the wall, would one of those pretty maids wearing a short skirt and black stockings come and warm my bed. Instead, I get the princess. Come on, honey, get your clothes off and let’s get to it. I’m ready.”

“Lieutenant Montgomery,” she said through her teeth. “What are you doing in Lanconia?”

J.T. continued drying his hair. “I’m not here because I want to be. My president and your king have requested my services. Contrary to what I’ve been told, they think your life is still in danger. I’m to protect you and do what I can with your…ah, peasants.”

“But my grandfather knows nothing.”

“He’s heard enough to know there could be some trouble,” J.T. answered quickly.

“You cannot stay. It is not possible. I will arrange for your transportation back to America tomorrow. Good night, Lieutenant.”

; J.T. caught her as she was leaving and pulled her back into the room. His towel slipped and he grabbed it with one hand while leaning his other hand on the wall behind her head. “I told you: this is not up to me, but my war assignment is to guard your life. Roosevelt seems to think I’m of more value here trailing after you and picking up your hankies than I would be in a fighting zone. So I’m staying.”

She ducked from under his arm and walked to the other side of the room. “How long must you remain?”

“Until I know you’re safe or until your grandfather says I can go.”

“There will have to be rules. You cannot treat me with the insolence that is your normal manner. You will have to use the proper forms of address.” She turned back toward him and saw how he narrowed his eyes at her. “The time in America was not something that can be repeated. Here I am not your wife.”

J.T. didn’t speak for a moment. “I married you to help my country and I’m staying here for my country. No other reason. As far as I’m concerned, our marriage is over.”

“Does that include your jealousy?” she asked, one eyebrow arched. “Count Julian and I will be planning our wedding. His family is a very old one and the marriage is advantageous to my family. I cannot have you throwing him in a swimming pool.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he said, anger in his eyes. “I might be jealous of my wife, but Her Royal Highness stirs no such feelings.” He looked her up and down, standing there in her prim, high-necked nightgown and heavy brocaded robe that looked as impenetrable as armor.

She turned away again because the sight of him in just his towel was beginning to make her remember their nights together. “How are you to be introduced?” she asked.

“Supposedly I have been sent here by my government to buy the vanadium, but I am also to discuss military bases here. The king wants you to show me Escalon and the outlying country because, the story is, America is considering buying your country.”

“Doing what?” She whirled on him. “America is to buy my country?”

“That’s the story I hear. Actually, from what I’ve seen, we wouldn’t have the place. We’re just getting over one depression and this place might send us into another one. But the story gives us a reason to spend time together. You’re to show me the household accounts. You’re to teach me about your country and, in general, be very nice to me. You’re to—dare I use the word—seduce me into liking your country.”

“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.”