Along Came A Prince (10 page)

Clay gazed at her
for a long moment before he released a soft sigh. “Have it your way – for now,”
he said. Smiling slightly, he raised up his glass. “To London and to fun.”

…Two years
later, the streets of London were once more filled with happy people. The war
was over and flowers were blooming everywhere. Splashes of green appeared here
and there, sprouting from the surviving trees.

Lily, fresh and
clean, her long, brown hair curled and fastened with a bow at each side, was
playing with a large Dalmatian in the center of a small living room. The
worn
rug on the floor and the sparse furnishings suggested not much money was
available.

The door opened.
Victoria appeared carrying a large paper bag. “Hello, you two,” she said. The
dog ran to greet her. “Spotty, how are you doing?” Victoria leaned down and stroked
the wiggling body and spoke to her sister, “How did you do in your arithmetic
test today?”

Lily wrinkled
her nose and shrugged. “He gives hard tests.”

“Oh, you’ll
pass with a high grade like you always do,” Victoria said. She took off her
coat, hung it up and headed for the kitchen. “Did you nap after school? Do you
feel rested now?” A caring look crossed Victoria’s face as she tied her apron
strings behind her.

“You worry too
much.” Lily stood up and walked toward her sister with the dog at her side. “I’m
not hungry.”

“I have your
favorite dinner in here, including...” Victoria dug into the bag and pulled out
a delicious dessert. “This! See, I even got you truffle.”

“Maybe just a
little truffle would be okay,” Lily admitted.

Concerned,
Victoria studied her sister’s face. She bent over and hugged her. “I think it’s
time we take you to a doctor, Lily. He’ll help you, so you’ll be hungry again.”

♥♥

“Lily’s tired
all the time, Dr. Fulton. She has no appetite, and I’m sure she’s lost weight.”
Victoria glanced at her sister. “For the first time in a long time, we’re
planning on going to Brighton Beach on holiday for a few days.”

Lily’s eyes
sparkled. “We get to take a train too.”

“That sounds
wonderful, Lily.” Mark Bennett, playing the role of Dr. Dean Fulton, smiled.
“I’ll do my best to pep you up, so you’ll have a great time. But first, I need
to steal a little blood from you. You have a lot, and I promise you won’t miss
it. Okay?”

The doctor
prepared Lily’s arm for the test and succeeded in withdrawing her blood without
causing discomfort or pain to her.

“You’re a good
doctor. I didn’t feel a thing.” Lily stared at him with admiration.

Dr. Fulton grinned.
“I have two boys at home about your age. I get lots of practice working on
them, but they complain and yell loudly whenever the needle comes near them.”
The doctor’s grin widened. “Maybe I need a sweet, little girl like you. There,
you’re all finished.” He let go of Lily’s arm. “Suppose you go out to Nurse
Margaret, and she’ll give you a treat.”

“What’s wrong
with her, doctor?” Victoria asked as soon as Lily was out of hearing range.

Dr. Fulton
inserted the blood sample into the hemoglobin-reading machine and scowled as he
read the results. “Her white blood count is up. I won’t know anything until we
do more tests. For now, I’ll give you a prescription for some potent vitamins. That
way you should be able to go on holiday. When you come back, call me
immediately, and we’ll know then what we’re going to be fighting.”

“Make her well,
please, doctor. I couldn’t stand to lose her, I just couldn’t. We only have
each other.” Victoria fought to stop the tears that were filling her eyes.

“I’ll do my
best, I promise you that. She’s a beautiful child. How long have you been in
charge of her?”

“Since our
parents were killed during the bombing in the war.”

“How have you
managed to support the two of you?”

“The answer to
that is, with love. She’s always been my whole life. My brother was in the
R.A.F., and he was killed in a flying mission. Then, our parents. Now…”
Victoria’s voice trailed off, and she swiped at her eyes. “Possibly Lily. I
don’t know if I could take that.”

“I didn’t say
anything about dying,” Dr. Fulton replied, his tone sympathetic, as he placed
one hand on her shoulder and patted her in a comforting manner. “Let’s not plan
on bad news. Let’s look for good.”

“It seems like
I’ve spent my whole life crying.” Victoria took out a hankie to wipe her tears
away. “Maybe that’s how it is for some people.”

“You’ll get
your happiness, Victoria.” The doctor smiled warmly at her. “You must have some
good memories stored inside you. Cling to those until some more new ones come
along, and I predict your good new memories will begin with your train trip to
the beach.”

“I’ll try...I
really will. Our family doctor was killed in the same bombing as my parents. We
haven’t needed to see a doctor until now. I’m glad it was you. Thank you for
everything.” Victoria picked up Lily’s and her coats and walked into the
waiting room, where her sister took her hand.

Back in his
office, the doctor shook his head grimly
…

♥♥

The next morning,
Clay picked Stacia up at The Dorchester. He apologized for getting into such a
deep conversation, when in reality, she was right they had only just begun.

His limo driver
took them to the Fox and Anchor Restaurant “for a real British breakfast,” as
Clay described it. He ordered the full house, which consisted of eight
different items from sausage and bacon to black pudding. Stacia opted for tea,
toast and jam. He also ordered two Buck’s Fizzes, which they both thoroughly
enjoyed. After all, Stacia reasoned, what better way to kick-start the day than
with orange juice and champagne?

“You have to taste
this,” he kept saying as he began to try each new menu item he’d ordered. “It’s
excellent.”

Stacia sampled all
the eight foods he offered her. She certainly wasn’t going to refuse him and
miss all the intimate attention she was getting from being spoon fed. She found
all the food unique and delicious, just the same as she found the man at the
other end of the spoon.

After breakfast, he
dismissed his driver, and Stacia and he begin to walk toward Charterhouse
Street, which led into a tree-lined square, where buildings that had survived
the bombings in the 1940's still stood. “Some of these buildings date back to
the sixteenth century,” Clay said.

“Can we stop
here?” Stacia asked. “Remember what we discussed before? I want to see if I can
get into character.”

She turned around
slowly in a complete circle and inhaled deeply, trying to draw in the sounds
and smells of the area. She tried to visualize how London had been back in World
War II during the bombing. Fire burning. Ashes smoldering. Some people chaotic,
while others were dead or dying around them. And fear –
fear
another
bomb might come any second and
fear
life would end.

Stacia closed her
eyes and tried to fill her mind with the emotions of a woman in war-torn London.
And it worked. She became Victoria. She could feel tears rushing to her eyes,
and she began crying. Her parents and brother were gone, only she and her
sister were left, orphans themselves, with an orphaned puppy. She could almost
hear it whimpering...almost smell the burned ashes of her home.

“What’s wrong,
Stacia? Why are you crying?” Clay’s voice broke through the decades.

She opened her
eyes. Instead of war-torn London, it was a warm winter day. Though the trees
were barren now, everything around her would be alive again, growing into
leaves and blossoms in only a few short weeks. Even without the colors of
spring, today’s London was beautiful and filled with hope, not bleakness and
blackness as it was during the war.

And standing in
front of her wasn’t Mark Bennett as Dr. Dean Fulton who, she knew, would have
entered her imagination a short time later. Instead, a real live prince stood
there looking at her intently, his solemn eyes filled with concern.

“I’m sorry, it
gets rather emotional sometimes when you manage to connect with your
character,” she said. “I just went back in time to the war and became the woman
I’ll be playing.”

“Here.” Clay
pulled a neatly folded hankie out of his jacket pocket. “Let me wipe those
tears away.”

♥♥

The rest of the
morning was spent quietly, walking slowly and talking softly as they continued
their tour of London. They hopped onto a red, double-decker bus and sat on the
top level. Clay had been right when he said a limo was no way to see London. What
could be better than what they were experiencing together now
? Nothing
,
was the easy answer to that question. And he was a perfect tour host, filling
her in as they rode to their next spot – Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament.

They visited the
museums at the Tower of London. They stood intimately close while Clay
explained the history of the crown jewels. The beauty of their exquisiteness
dazzled her.

“You’d look great
in any one of these,” Clay said. “Which one do you like the best?”

She pointed to a
sparkling, ruby necklace with matching earrings.

He laughed. “I
should have known you’d pick
red.
” He took her hand. “Come on, we still
have more to see.”

Busy sightseeing,
the day passed quickly. The night scurried away as swiftly as Cinderella’s
ball, but rather than being midnight, it was more like three a.m.

“I thought we’d go
on a longer walking tour tomorrow,” Clay suggested, as they said their
good-byes at her hotel room door. “If you have the proper shoes, that is. You
set the time, as long as it’s morning.”

Stacia grinned. “I
do need a few hours’ sleep, but ten o’clock is fine. And I do have the right
shoes.”

Clay tilted her
chin up toward his face with his finger. He gently brushed her lips with his. “Ten
it is, then. Sleep fast.”

♥♥

The next morning,
Stacia ordered breakfast from room service. When the waiter pushed the table of
food into her room, a white orchid lay next to her plate. The hotel had also
included a London morning paper, folded neatly alongside the elegant silver
plate-covers blanketing her meal.

“May I serve your
food, Miss Saunders?” the waiter asked.

“Thank you, but
no.” She planned to have a leisurely breakfast, and she didn’t think he wanted
to stand around waiting while she relaxed and took her time. After the waiter
left, she wandered around her suite, stretching and yawning. Even though she
hadn’t had much sleep, she felt rested and happy. But then who wouldn’t feel
great with the fabulous day and evening she’d had yesterday? And she could look
forward to more of the same today.

She picked up the
newspaper and lay back against the sofa cushions. One second later, she bolted
up and began pacing the floor. There in her hands and glaring up at her was the
headline, LONDON AFFAIR. Under the words was a photo of Clay and her as he
wiped her tears from her eyes. Its caption read, A LOVERS’ QUARREL? Next to
that picture was another one of the two of them standing intimately together
admiring the crown jewels, and it read, ENGAGED? How did the paparazzi in
Europe recognize them? She’d had her hair tucked inside her floppy black hat
and had sunglasses on as much as she could during the day. How did they even
know who Clay was? He didn’t have a highly-recognizable face, but she guessed
her brother had been right when he said Clay would be known all over the world
after the Hollywood party.

Is the sexy
red-headed screen star of the remake of the soon-to-be-filmed, London Affair,
having her own little London affair with one of the richest princes in the
world, Prince Clayton Alexander who now resides in Switzerland? Sources say
actress Stacia Saunders and the prince met in Hollywood at the Caviar-On-Ice
Extravaganza a mere week ago and fell in love at first glance, so much so, they
planned a rendezvous in London. An anonymous insider claims the prince even
carved an ice sculpture of her at his recent Harrods’ Ice-On-Ice exhibit,
complete with flaming red hair. Is an elopement possible?

Stacia was furious.
Leave it to the paparazzi to get the facts all messed up with lies. She began
to pace the floor again. She couldn’t even go on an innocent day of sightseeing
without the media making assumptions she would marry. She had to do something,
but what? Why should she give up another day of fun just because of some
insensitive photographers? An idea formed in her mind. She walked over to her
telephone and called the women’s apparel store downstairs and asked if they had
any wigs. They did, and she ordered a short, brunette one and a new hat sent to
her room. Along with that, she asked for a pair of plain eyeglasses and a
flannel shirt to go with the jeans she’d brought with her. Ten minutes later,
her purchases were delivered and when Clay knocked on the door, Miss American
Tourist answered, complete with freckle dots drawn on her nose and cheeks with
her brown eyebrow pencil.

“Do I have the
right room?” he asked, a puzzled expression crossing his face. “I’m here to
pick up Miss Saunders.”

“Miss Saunders
will be out shortly. Would you sit on the couch please and wait?”

Clay did as
instructed. When he sat down, Stacia threw her arms up in the air, wiggled her
butt in a victory dance and squealed out, “Yes!”
She had fooled him!
She
took off her glasses and the wig and shook her hair free. “It’s me,” she said. “Did
you see this?” She handed him the newspaper.

He laughed.

She didn’t think
it was funny. “Don’t you care about your privacy at all?” she questioned him.