The Christmas Princess (24 page)

She had refused the offer of a post as ambassador to a country where the title would be mostly ceremonial. She intended to earn her living, she had announced. So she had come here, and for nearly thirty years she had served her country by running this most important embassy far more than any ambassador could.

“Yes, an excellent head and the heart of a lion. But he lets the one rule too strongly and does not trust the other.” He tapped a finger to his chin. “Not yet.”

“That young man does not show you the proper respect. And the young lady is not at all conversant with royal protocol.”

“You are, as always, absolutely correct, Madame Sabdoka.” He settled back and smiled. “Isn’t it refreshing? There is much the young can teach us, and yet, I do believe there is much I can teach them. That young man, especially—”

“You are not going to get involved with the personal life of some young American—”

Their gazes met.

“—Yes. An American, as he has chosen. Or with the romance of this young woman who may — or may not,” she added darkly, “be your granddaughter as you could have determined by now many times over. Yet you have chosen not to know for certain because you are indulging in meddling of the most—”

He drew himself up, stopping her words instantly. “In your king it is not meddling. It is ruling.” He relaxed. “Ah, truly, this is by far the most fun I have had in a very, very long time. Let us enjoy this holiday.”

He smiled at her. For an instant, he saw the laughing face of a girl, her hair frothed wild by the wind. Then Madame Sabdoka returned.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

On the drive to the first stop of his commission, Hunter analyzed the conversation with the king from every angle. It always came out the same.

He’d gone in there to urge Jozef to be a stricter chaperone to April. His unprofessional behavior in kissing her had come out and made it blindingly clear he not only shouldn’t be on this job but probably should resign.

And yet here he was, not only still on the job, but with orders that would take him even deeper into April Gareaux’s life.

Both Jameel and Maria remembered him and were inclined to be friendly until he started asking questions about April. They clammed up, and stayed clammed up.

Mandy Roteen hadn’t been as reticent. But most of what she had to say was either already in the report or consisted of how much more ready for fun Mandy was than April.

“Michael? It’s Grady. Are you alone?”

“Just a minute.” The sound of a door closing came through the line, cutting off background voices. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen that footage from last night’s White House party?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m downplaying it to Leslie, but that guy behind April — same one from the tree lighting clip I sent you.”

“Yeah.”

“I want to know who he is. Any chance—?”

“I’m on it.”

“No reason to worry Leslie or Tris with this.”

“No,” Michael agreed, though he sounded less sure. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I know something.”

The percussion of the knock on her door somehow transferred to April’s heart. “Come in.”

The door opened.

“Oh, Derek.” She tried to keep her reaction out of her voice. Though what that reaction was… Relief. Yes, certainly relief. It would be awkward when she saw Hunter next. Wouldn’t it?

“Hi, April. Wanted to check in, see what you’ve got planned today?”

“It’s pretty much a day of rest. No outings. A nice, quiet Sunday.” She produced a smile and he smiled back. “Wrapping, thank-you notes.”

Including one for the party at the White House. Hunter’s mouth on hers. Dizziness that spun not just her head, but her whole body…

“Good. Then I can ease into it.”

“Ease into it?”

“Taking over for Hunter.”

“What?” Her lungs burned, as if she’d drawn in heated air. “Where is he?”

“Don’t know. Other than gone.

“Why?”

“Don’t know that, either. Got the call to get over here right away, and that I’d be lead for you. As long as you’re not going anywhere right away, I’ll get settled. Come get me for Rufus’ walk.”

He closed the door, leaving her with thoughts swirling through her head.

The man who’d answered the door brought Reese Warrington back with him.

“Thank you, Barton.” The man departed again. “What is this about,” Reese tried in the blustering tone of the ineffectual. He was holding Hunter’s business card, so he knew some of what it was about.

“I have a few questions about your relationship with a woman named April Gareaux.”

“So it
was
April at that party last night.” His eyes lit up, but Hunter put it down to curiosity.

Barton reappeared. “Excuse me sir, but Mrs. Warrington requires that you bring the gentleman into the drawing room.”

Reese grimaced, but gestured for Hunter to follow Barton.

“What is all this about,” the older woman of two in the room demanded immediately with authority. “Who are you?”

Reese performed the introductions to his mother and wife, ending with, “He’s here to see me, Mother.”

“About what?” she demanded of Hunter. He looked back at her without speaking.

She glared at him, then turned to her son, who said immediately. “It’s about April, actually.”

“April?” scoffed his wife, taking a long drink of what appeared to be a cocktail. “What about her?”

“You were engaged to Ms. Gareaux, Mr. Warrington?”

“Yes, yes I was. I told you that was April with that king on the news last night,” he said to the women.

Neither seemed to hear him.

“Engaged?” said Roberta Warrington. “Hardly. She latched onto him, until I came back and put an end to that nonsense.”

“It was being handled,” her mother-in-law said.

“For four months,” Reese Warrington said to Hunter.

“How did you meet Ms Gareaux, Mr. Warrington?”

His mother said, “She picked him up. Not part of our circle, of course.”

Reese waited for her to finish before he said, “We started talking when I attended the sale of Gerard Littrell’s library. He had some remarkable first editions of classic science fiction.”

The women made a dismissive sound in unison.

“She was so open, so kind. But tell me,
is
she the granddaughter of this king? That’s the rumor I heard.”

“Ridiculous. She’s a nobody. A non-entity,” the younger Mrs. Warrington said.

“I’ll speak to your staff now. In the kitchen,” Hunter said.

“You’ve hardly asked us anything,” Reese protested.

Yet they’d answered plenty.

Hunter stood. “I’ll speak to your staff now.”

“My staff? Absolutely not,” Lois Warrington said.

Hunter looked down at the woman.

“Mother, please,” Reese said.

“Really.” Roberta Warrington flung one hand wide. “What can it matter?”

Lois Warrington broke the look first. “Fine.” As Hunter walked out, she added, “Just don’t let it hold up our dinner.”

As he left the Warrington estate forty-five minutes later, Hunter called Sharon Johnson.

The message he left on her cell was succinct. “Rumors are starting. See what you can do.”

“Sir, I must talk with you — please.”

“Of course, April.” He gestured her to come into the office.

For an instant it reminded her of that first day. Two weeks ago. Was that all it was? Two weeks?

The king rose, coming around the desk, taking her hand and leading her to the sofa before the fireplace, sitting beside her, and ending any similarity to that first meeting.

She drew in a breath.

“I am not your granddaughter.”

She said that slowly and distinctly, looking into his eyes.

“Ah.”

Her calm precision disappeared in a rush of words. “I am so sorry. So terribly, terribly sorry. And I know you have no reason to believe me when I tell you how deeply fond of you I am, when you’re thinking that if I really were I would have waited until after the operation to tell you — or that I wouldn’t have pretended at all. I wanted to help my country, yes, I absolutely did, and I do hope you will sign that extension. But, truly, sir, I thought I could make your holidays happier, too. I know what it’s like to feel alone because that’s how I felt a lot growing up, and it’s especially hard around the holidays. I thought… I thought I could let you go on thinking— but I can’t. I can’t do this. If I were stronger, I would have waited until after your surgery, but to let you go on thinking you’d found your granddaughter — your
family
— and to know all the time that it was a lie. I can’t.”

“Have you told Hunter that you can’t continue this?”

She blinked against sudden heat in her eyes. She would not cry. She would not.

“No.” He handed her a handkerchief. White and soft and spotless. “You’re the one I’ve been lying to, so I had to tell you—” She sucked in a breath, refusing to allow it to become a sob. “First.”

She twisted the handkerchief. He placed his hand on hers, stilling the restless motion. Then he slowly settled back against the sofa cushion.

“Ah. You thought that once I knew that you believe yourself not to be my granddaughter that I would throw you out, saving you from any need of telling Hunter that you have confided in me.”

“I, uh—”

“Or perhaps you thought I would throw you both out. Which would mean—”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry for interrupting, but you have no reason to throw Hunter out. This is all my doing. All my—”

She bit off her words under the double-barreled impact of his raised brows and a dismissive wave of one hand.

“April, my dear, I will save you from returning yourself to a position that seems to cause you discomfort — lying to me. I know how it came about that you were presented as my possible granddaughter. I did not know it all at the beginning, but I made it my business to find out in these past weeks. Hunter came to you, persuaded you to this role. Not the other way around.”

“He never persuaded me. He gave me the facts. Never pushed me to agree. This whole thing wasn’t his idea. He hates it — he doesn’t say it, but I can tell. From what Sha— other people say, he argued against it.”

He chuckled. “My dear, never, never become a spy.
Sha— other people
are correct that this brainstorm was not of Hunter’s making. Although I did not find that out immediately, either. I will admit that, initially, I was quite disappointed in young Mr. Pierce.”

She remembered that first meeting again. The way the king had looked at Hunter for so long before even turning to her. She had wondered why he hadn’t focused immediately on the woman he’d been told might be his granddaughter. It almost seemed as if he was disappointed in Hunter, calling him to account for …

But that would mean …

“You
knew
. You knew all along that I’m not your granddaughter.”

He dropped his head in a slow nod. “I knew all along who you are.”

“But … But why?”

“Why did I know? Because my staff is quite dependable and professional, and your resemblance to the royal family has not gone unnoticed. I believe you lived in Cincinnati the first time a report on you came across my desk.”

“Cincinnati? We only lived there a short time. I was in elementary school.”

“Yes.”

That simple word convinced her. His Royal Highness, King Jozef of Bariavak had been tracking her since her childhood.

“So as soon as Hunter said
April Gareaux
, you knew …”

“Before then, to be precise. My agents had heard word of Hunter’s activities. He made so little attempt to hide them that one could almost wonder if he hoped that they would be discovered beforehand.”

That wasn’t true. Look at all the times Hunter had scolded her in the hotel about not telling anyone, the times he had shielded her in those trips in and out of cars.

She shook her head. “When I ask
why
, I meant why did you go along with it? Why didn’t you denounce me right that moment as a cruel imposter?”

His eyebrows arched again. This time with what she read as genuine surprise. “Is that how you see yourself? As a cruel imposter? I do not. I see you as a charming young woman.” His mouth lifted in a faint smile. “Which provides the answer to your question. My holidays stretched before me lonely and dull, with only the strictures of the doctors and the surgery next month to look forward to. Instead, I have been having a delightful time. My best holidays in decades. And I very much hope I shall persuade you to remain without having to call upon your government to add its voice.”

She couldn’t help smiling at him, but started a protest, “Sir—”

He held up a hand to stop her words. “There was also an old man’s sentimental desire to see what a granddaughter lost so very long ago might have looked like as a grown woman. To see what she might have become. I would be proud if she were like you, April.” He placed his hand over hers again. “There is also ...” He cleared his throat.

“What?”

“I hesitate to venture on this subject. But as you have mentioned, your early upbringing was not tied strongly to any one place for a long period of time. Your parents were even more peripatetic at the time of your birth.”

She nodded. “I see what you’re saying. There might still be a small possibility? Because with all the wildness Melly — my mother — showed you couldn’t be certain she didn’t pick me up somewhere like a hot diamond necklace. A hot kidnapped princess. And there’s no denying that would have appealed to her. But we
can
be sure she didn’t — those of us who knew her, I mean.

“Because there was one thing Melly could never do, and that was keep a secret. Especially if it were a good story. She wouldn’t have been able to stop herself. And that goes for whether she knew she’d been given a stolen baby princess or whether she picked up a baby somewhere. So, you see, Hunter had no reason to be certain all along that I’m a fake, but I did. I’m the one who’s lied to you.”