The Secret Princess Read online

  “Must the two be mutually exclusive? I’ve told you that you can send for your family and have them live here with you.”

  She tried to imagine how her parents would react to that, but she couldn’t. There was a possibility they would be willing. But if they weren’t, and she had to move three thousand miles away from them, that would be a difficult decision to make.

  “They already live some distance from you, don’t they?” he asked, as if reading her mind.

  “They do,” she conceded. They’d only moved to Florida three months ago, but they seemed to enjoy it, so there was little hope that they’d move back to Maryland. And there was no way on earth Amy was going to move to a tropical climate, no matter how much she loved her parents.

  So that wasn’t really a consideration.

  “What is it, Amé?” he asked, taking her hands in his. “Why do you hesitate?”

  She thought about it for a moment before answering. “Because the princess aspect of this is still unbelievable to me,” she said. Her eyes suddenly burned with tears. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me to find out who my parents were. It was so painful all of those years, knowing that they had died anonymously and believing that there was no one in the world who cared about their—well, our—fate.” She brushed tears off her cheeks.

  “Can you remember them at all?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Now and then I have these moments when I have what feels like a memory, but I can’t quite grasp it. A scent might trigger it. Or a few notes of music. It might sound crazy, but even a particular kind of day, when it’s dreary and gray and the trees are like skeletons against the sky, almost reminds me of something, but as soon as I try to think about it, it’s gone. And I feel lost all over again.”

  “You aren’t lost anymore, Amé.” There was sorrow in his eyes, but warmth and tenderness, too. “You are found.” He cupped his hand on her cheek. “Finally.”

  She put her hand on his. “It’s hard to really believe.” She swallowed. “I mean, it’s hard to accept, you know? I’ve spent a lifetime with this uncertainty. It’s hard to believe all those huge questions are finally answered. I keep waiting for the other shoe to fall.”

  “There is no other shoe.” He went to her and knelt before her, taking her hands in his. “Unless it is a glass slipper.”

  She rolled her eyes. “For that, you need a handsome prince.”

  He drew back.

  It took her a moment to realize what she’d said. “Oh! Will, I didn’t mean you weren’t—”

  “I’m not,” he said seriously, releasing her hands and standing up. “I’m no Prince Charming.”

  “Yes you are,” she insisted. “That’s exactly what you are. All I meant was that…I…well, I haven’t had the best of luck with men.”

  Will sat down on the chair. “What was his name? Ben something?”

  “Singer,” she supplied, leaning back heavily. She didn’t want to think about Ben right now. “And he doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “If you say so.”

  She hated to give Ben credit for anything at this point, including her mistrust in relationships, though he probably had some role to play in that. But the more obvious problem for her was that of losing her parents at three and never seeing them again, apparently not even understanding the explanations given to her in English right after the accident. It wasn’t hard to see how a person might develop a fear of abandonment after something like that.

  The frustrating thing was that recognizing it didn’t seem to take her very far on the path to overcoming it.

  Rather than dissect her psyche, though, she decided to turn the tables on Will. “What about you?” she asked.

  “What about me?”

  “You’re awfully quick to question me on my romantic history, but you don’t say much about your own.”

  He shrugged. “There isn’t much to say.” His face was so handsome by the low light of her bedroom that she couldn’t even imagine that there wasn’t a lot to say.

  And she wanted to hear every word of it.

  “Somehow I find it hard to believe,” she said, “that Prince Wilhelm, idol of women all over Europe, thinks there isn’t much to say about his romantic life. I’ll bet if I looked in the newspaper archives, I’d find plenty.”

  “You wouldn’t find anything pleasant,” he said, his voice grim. He stood up. “It’s time for me to go.”

  “Wait.” She immediately felt bad for touching a nerve. She stood and went to him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you.”

  He touched her hand and hesitated for a moment before saying, “I was engaged several years back. My fiancée was killed in an accident. That is what you’d find in the newspaper archives.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She’d been known to put her foot in her mouth before, but this was the worst. She put her hand on his forearm. “Honestly, I had no idea.”

  He looked at her hand, then shifted his gaze to her eyes. A long moment passed, with only heartbeats between them.

  “I know,” he said at last, disengaging himself from her touch. “Tomorrow morning we will discuss the formal announcement to be made at the winter ball. Please make a decision as to what you intend to do.”

  She nodded, still feeling just awful about opening that wound for him. “I will.”

  He gave a curt nod. “I’ll send Franz for you around ten.”

  “Sure.” She stood awkwardly, wishing he wouldn’t go yet. She wanted to say something—anything—to smooth things over with him and just make it feel like it did before. But no words came to her.

  He turned to leave.

  “Will, please…”

  He stopped and turned back. “Yes?” His voice was impersonal, as if every inch of physical distance between them added a degree of chill to their relationship.

  “Was she…were you…” She was going to say close, but what a foolish question that would be. Of course they were close, they were engaged. Frantically, she searched for something else to say. “I just wanted to say I’m really, really sorry.”

  He gave a tight smile. “I’ll see you in the morning, Amé.”

  “See you.” She gave a small wave.

  He left and she stood, holding her breath for a moment before flopping down on the bed. What an incredibly awkward situation that had been. She’d marched headlong into it but found herself completely unable to retreat. She hated that she’d put him on the spot that way.

  How could she hold a highly visible public position when she wasn’t even capable of smoothing over an uncomfortable moment in a private conversation?

  She went to the window and looked out at the moonlit valley, the snow glowing like phosphorescence through the dark. It was so beautiful it made her ache.

  And maybe…just maybe…it was familiar. Something about the curve of the hill to the west, and the way the trees were sprinkled like chocolate jimmies over the white-ice-cream mountains brought her a deep sense of peace and happiness. She’d been here before, back before she knew what sadness and loneliness were. Before she knew what it was like to lose someone, or to be afraid.

  This was home.

  Suddenly she knew it. This was home. She’d looked out this very window twenty-five years before, her mother’s warm breath on her neck, pointing a slender finger to the hills and saying…Amy concentrated. What had her mother said to her? Words she didn’t understand floated around in her head. Mein herz…

  Mein herz ist immer hier mit Ihnen.

  It rang, as clear as a bell, in her mind.

  But what did it mean?

  She made a mental note to ask someone tomorrow and returned her thoughts to the situation at hand.

  She was Princess Amelia Louisa Gretchen May. It didn’t matter that she didn’t feel as if she was, the medical evidence had proved it.

  And the facts bore it out. Had it not been for the princess element, she could have believed Will’s story much sooner. The puzzle pieces fit together
—a couple, leaving their war-torn country with a baby in tow, trying to keep their anonymity so that no one knew who they were. There could not be worse circumstances under which to have a fatal accident, but they had, and it had resulted in the very strange predicament of a princess being raised in a small-town American family, with no idea of who she was or where she came from.

  It was hard to believe, but truth was, as they said, stranger than fiction.

  Amy’s truth was just stranger than any fiction she’d ever read.

  But none of that mattered. She knew where she came from now, and she knew what she had to do about it. Her family had loved her, she was certain of it. And they had loved this country. It was her moral duty to carry on as they would have, if they could have. It was her duty to take the throne back, in honor of her mother and her father and her grandparents, and in honor of everyone who had loved them and sworn allegiance to them.

  Not that she thought she could offer what her family before her could have. She couldn’t. But maybe, just by the fact of her being, the fact of her surviving, she could give some people hope.

  Plus she could help Will do what he felt the country needed. Amy trusted Will. She trusted his opinion and judgment. If he thought he could make a positive change for the people of Lufthania, but only if Amy took over his position as monarch, she would do it.

  After all, it didn’t mean abandoning her old life. She could bring her parents here. Her friends. Heck, she could even continue to conduct her business from the computer if she wanted to.

  A cold, hard look at her life told her that there really wasn’t that much to miss if she moved. And it wasn’t as if she was moving to another planet, anyway. If she wanted to go back to Maryland she could do so at any time. Maybe not to live, not once the announcement was made that she was Princess Amelia, but she could visit as often as she wanted. If she wanted.

  Although she’d enjoyed her business tremendously, it wasn’t as if it had made her feel truly worthwhile in the grand scheme of things. Being self-sufficient was a good feeling, but it didn’t make a difference in other peoples’ lives. Now she had that opportunity.

  She was going to take it. And she was going to take it with gusto. She would give it her all, as she had never done before. If she didn’t succeed, in the end no one would be able to accuse her of not trying her best.

  Life had given her a brilliant opportunity and she’d hung back like a whiny child, afraid to touch it for fear it would disappear.

  Well, it wasn’t disappearing.

  And neither was she.

  Chapter Nine

  Will barely got a wink of sleep.

  When had he become so clumsy in conversation? He’d tripped so badly over the subject of his romantic involvements when he was talking to Amé that it was a wonder he hadn’t ended up with bruises.

  Worse, he knew he’d left her with the feeling that she’d been the one to take the misstep.

  The truth was that Amé had come so close to capturing his heart that he’d panicked. If he’d stayed in that room with her one more moment, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from carrying her to the bed and making love to her, and he knew—he knew without any doubt—that nothing could be worse for the two of them.

  He couldn’t be her lover. For heaven’s sake, he was her enemy. His family had killed hers and usurped their place. It was the fault of his family and their regime that Princess Lily had been forced to leave her home and try to forge her way, with her family, in a strange country. If not for the coup, Lily would reign right now and Amé would never have suffered the trauma of losing her parents. To say nothing of her country and her birthright.

  If he couldn’t live with that, how on earth could he expect her to?

  Granted, she was uncertain right now. She wasn’t sure what her place was or how to assert it. It was his duty to help her with that. But once she gained the confidence he knew she would, she would recognize that he had no place in her life.

  “Sir.” Franz’s voice brought Will back to the present, which was shortly before 10:00 a.m. in his office. “Would you like for me to go for Her Highness now?”

  It was on the tip of Will’s tongue to volunteer to do it himself, but instead he gave a short nod. He didn’t need to go to Amy’s bedroom again. He would keep things impersonal. His office was the perfect place for that. “Thank you, Franz.”

  Franz wasn’t gone five minutes before he gave a cursory knock on Will’s door and opened it, announcing, “Her Highness, Princess Amelia.”

  Amé entered, giving a disbelieving look at Franz as she passed him. When he closed the door behind her, she looked at Will and said, “That is going to take some getting used to.”

  “I doubt it will take long. After all, you have been here before.”

  “Yes, for nearly ten percent of my life.” She smiled. “Unfortunately, since it was the first ten percent, it isn’t helping me much now.”

  “Then I shall help you instead,” he said. “Please, take a seat.” He gestured at the chair in front of his desk.

  She sat.

  “Here is the plan. The winter ball is in four days. In that time, Franz will tell the media that an official announcement will be made from the palace on that evening.”

  “Doesn’t everyone already know what that announcement will be?”

  “It doesn’t matter. They can speculate about it in advance. The announcement is a formality. But it’s a vital formality. Until that time, you are not officially the princess royal.”

  “Don’t you need to step down as crown prince in order for that to happen?” she asked. She was holding steady onto her composure, but he could tell she was nervous.

  “I’ll do so in my introduction,” he said. “We needn’t make an enormous issue of it. The legalities will be taken care of behind the scenes.”

  She swallowed. “If you say so.” She shifted in her seat. “Will I be expected to make some kind of speech at that point? Please say no.”

  “No.” He couldn’t help but smile. “You will give a press conference later, of course, but you will be well coached in advance.”

  “By whom?”

  “Franz or myself.” He shrugged. “There are plenty of people who will be available to help you with your official duties.”

  “Easy for you to say.” She took a long breath. “You’re not the one they’re going to talk about if you use the wrong fork for your salad.”

  “Letty can explain the basics of etiquette to you, if necessary.”

  “Actually, I had a home ec teacher in high school who was Princess Di’s number one fan, so I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, but you’re missing my point. I just want to know what to expect and what’s expected of me before I’m faced with it.”

  “Understandable. I’ll take you through it step by step.”

  “Thank you.” She looked relieved. “Okay, so you make the announcement, then I…what? What do I do then?”

  “Smile and wave.”

  She thought about it. “Well, I’m telling you right now, I’m not learning to do any goofy royalty wave.” She held up a cupped hand, fingers tightly together, and turned it side to side. “That thing. I’m not doing it.”

  He laughed. She was irresistible. Every time he thought he could cut their ties and send her on her way, she did something else that endeared her to him. “But that is a grand tradition among European royalty.”

  “I don’t care, I’m not doing it.” She shook her head. “It stops here.”

  “Very well, then, when the announcement is made, you may curtsey—”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  He kept a straight face. “I’m sorry?”

  “You want me to curtsey? On some kind of podium in front of everyone? Uh-uh. No way.” She eyed him suspiciously. “You are joking, right?”

  “Right again.”

  She smiled. “Some help you turned out to be. So what happens next?”

  “Next you, as the host
ess of the evening, open the dancing with the first dance.”

  “Very funny.”

  “No, no, I’m serious.” She looked at him in disbelief for a moment, then, seeing the look on his face, changed her expression to one of panic. “I have to dance the first dance?”

  He nodded. “With a partner, of course. You won’t be expected to stand before the crowd and pirouette and so on.” If this was the biggest of her worries, she would have an easy time of it. “What is the problem?”

  “I can’t dance.”

  “Not a simple waltz?”

  She shook her head.

  “One, two, three.” He moved his fingers on the desk in illustration.

  “Nope. Surely we can bypass that part.”

  “It is tradition.”

  She shrugged. “Things are about to change, anyway.”

  He braced his hands on his desk for a moment, thinking. “Not this.” He lifted the telephone receiver. “I’ll simply get you a dance instructor. It won’t take long.”

  She sighed. “Okay. I guess it’s something I’ll have to learn, anyway.”

  “This is quite a different life from what you’re used to.”

  “There’s an understatement.”

  Will pushed the extension for Letty and asked her to find a dance instructor for Amé. She didn’t ask questions, but immediately said she knew just the person and would contact him directly. Will thanked her and told her to call him back as soon as she had a time.

  “You certainly know how to get things done,” Amé commented.

  “I don’t know how to get things done, so much as I know how to find people who do.” He smiled. “You will have the same resources available to you.” His telephone rang and he excused himself to answer it. It was Letty, telling him that she had gotten in contact with an excellent instructor who would meet Amé in the ballroom the following afternoon at four o’clock.

  He told Amé, then asked, “Do you have any other concerns?”

  “About a million of them,” she said. “But I guess it’s all stuff that will get sorted out as we go along.”

  He nodded. “This leaves the question of how you wish to make the transition from the United States to Lufthania. We can send someone to collect your things, or you can make the journey after the holidays.”