A Princess Next Door (Rothman Royals Book 1) Read online

  I was quite sure it was a rare trait in a man, and it was one I definitely appreciated.

  I was letting out a helpless moan of pleasure when a knock on the door surprised me for the second time in five minutes. My moan turned into a little squeak of outrage as Jack dropped his hands.

  Jack scowled. “Who the hell is it?”

  “Amalie?” a familiar voice called through the door. “Are you there?”

  “Yes,” I called out, before I thought through the wisdom of letting someone else in at the moment. My zipper was still down, and both Jack and I looked a little worse for wear.

  My youngest sister, Lisette, opened the door with a big smile. “There you are! I had to host a stuffy garden party all afternoon. I’ve been waiting all day to get back to the palace to see you!” She paused when her eyes took in Jack standing beside me, giving my zipper a quick tug up. “Oh. I’m sorry…”

  “Oh, no,” I assured her, coming over to give her a hug as soon as my dress was zipped. “You’re not interrupting. I’m so glad you stopped by.”

  She hugged me back and was grinning as we pulled apart. Lisette was twenty, four years younger than me, and we’d gotten closer as we grew up. She was sweet and quiet and preferred to stay in the background, and only recently had our mother trusted her to participate in social functions for the royal family, since she was often tongue-tied when put on the spot.

  “How did the garden party go?”

  “It was fine. I didn’t embarrass anyone, I don’t believe.” Her big green eyes slanted over toward Jack.

  “This is my friend Jack,” I said.

  Jack smiled at her. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You as well.” Lisette looked between me and Jack. “Is Mother okay with your having a, uh, friend?”

  I laughed. “She seems flustered by everything recently, but my friends aren’t her business.”

  “She’s been on the warpath lately. She’s determined to get you back.” Lisette looked like she had a few more questions, but she obviously wasn’t going to ask them in front of Jack.

  “I told her I was coming home after that seminar.”

  “Yes, but she doesn’t believe you’re actually going to do it.” Lisette gave Jack another quick glance. “Are you?”

  “That’s the plan.” I smiled determinedly and then checked myself out in the mirror, smoothing down my hair, since my little interlude with Jack had caused a few strands to slip out from the French twist I wore. “It’s almost time to go down. Is there anyone interesting attending tonight.”

  “Edward and his father will be there.”

  “Edward!” I gasped, my shoulders stiffening in indignation. “Why would she have invited him?”

  “Why do you think? She still thinks there’s a chance for a match.”

  I growled and turned to Jack. “He’s the rich man she’s been trying to marry me off to.”

  Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding! That kind of thing doesn’t still happen here, does it?”

  “Only for princesses,” Lisette put in. “It’s a long-standing tradition that the country—and particularly our mother—still believes in. But Edward knows Amalie isn’t interested. He’s very snobbish and almost never speaks to anyone but his father and our father. I don’t think he’d lower himself to marry someone who wasn’t happy about it.”

  “I sure hope not.” Jack looked surprised and a little disgusted by the idea, and I could tell the glow of his arousal earlier had worn off.

  I shouldn’t be surprised. It wouldn’t take long for him to see what my family was truly like and want nothing to do with me.

  I tried to shrug off that knowledge. “Where’s Victoria?” I asked Lisette. “I haven’t seen either her or Henry.”

  “Henry is in England. He won’t be here for a couple of days. Victoria is around, though.”

  Something in Lisette’s expression struck me as off. “Is something wrong with her?”

  “Of course not.”

  I didn’t believe my sister for a moment, but I just said slowly, “Okay. I’ll see her tonight then.”

  ***

  The dinner party was every bit as stuffy and pretentious as I feared it would be. There were fourteen people present, including my parents and sisters, me and Jack, Edward Farmingham Channing IV and his father (Edward Farmingham Channing III), and three couples who were longtime friends of my parents. We had drinks in the parlour and then made a traditional procession into the dining room.

  The dinner was eleven courses.

  Nothing could have made Jack more uncomfortable and annoyed than all of the ceremony and empty conversation. I could see it on his face, although he was obviously trying to be polite.

  It wasn’t easy, especially as some of the comments became rather pointed.

  As soon as conversation opened up, Lady Hannah, my mother’s best friend, asked with her typical smiling condescension, “So, Mr. Watson, I understand that you’re from Minneapolis, where Her Royal Highness, Princess Amalie went to university.”

  Jack had just taken a spoonful of soup so he had to swallow before he answered. “Yes. That’s right. We’re neighbors, actually.”

  “Amalie was staying in a very nice apartment building with a lovely view,” my mother said, addressing the table at large. “But she’s moving back home now, of course.”

  I sighed and met Jack’s eyes, pleased to see that his were rueful but mostly amused.

  “So what is your line of work then?” my father asked Jack. At least he looked genuinely interested. He was an always busy man who was mostly dominated by my mother’s personality, but I’d never once doubted that he loved me.

  “Sporting goods stores, actually.”

  “Sporting goods?” From the tone and my mother’s expression, she might have asked if Jack was in the business of hiring out hitmen.

  “Yeah. My dad started the business, and I took over when he died.”

  “He’s done a great job growing the company,” I put in, since I didn’t like the unimpressed expressions on the faces of most of the table. “The stores are very successful.”

  My mother cleared her throat and gave Lady Hannah a look that clearly said, “I told you so.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes. Lisette was looking sympathetic, and my father was still looking interested. But no one else at the table was any help at all.

  I was surprised and disappointed by Victoria’s expression. My middle sister was just a year younger than me, and we’d been best friends all our lives. The first couple of years I’d been in college, we’d talked almost every day on the phone. The calls had gotten less frequent, though, and now she was barely looking me in the eye.

  It was like she was hurt or angry, but I had no idea what it was about.

  There was no way to ask her right now, though. Anything said would be heard by the entire table.

  It worried me. It made my chest hurt. I glanced away, and my eyes happened to land on Edward’s face. He was a handsome man with dark hair and blue eyes, but his face was perpetually emotionless. I doubted the man even had a sense of humor. I certainly had never seen him laugh. When I was younger and we were thrown together, I’d tried to make conversation, and he wouldn’t say more than two words.

  I’d known my share of snobs in my life, but no one was as bad as he was.

  I noticed that his eyes were on Victoria’s face, like he was trying to read her expression the way I’d been. This struck me as strange—that he would be at all interested in anyone but himself—but then Victoria looked over in his direction, and his eyes moved immediately.

  I shook the thought away. It was probably my imagination, after all.

  Returning to a subject that was far more important, I checked Jack’s face. He was now telling my parents about the kinds of sporting goods he sold in the stores. His conversation was as natural and self-deprecating as always, but I could tell that he wished they would talk to someone other than him.

  “You should expan
d,” my mother told him, “and carry more lucrative goods. Sports must be such a limited market. I’m sure if you tried you could expand your reach, at least regionally. Take the Channings, for instance.” She nodded toward the father and son across the table. “They handle precious items—jewelry, clocks, fine art.”

  I saw Jack swallow back whatever his response would have been. It wasn’t like him. He normally said what he thought. But he was trying to hold back—for me.

  It made my stomach churn, that he had to.

  “That’s not the way it works, Mother,” I put in softly. “I’m sure you can understand how they’ve built their brand around sporting goods, and that’s why people come into the stores.”

  “Hmm.” She looked disapproving but let the subject rest.

  Hit with a brainstorm, I asked Lady Hannah, “How is your garden this year?”

  This was a brilliant strategy, since Lady Hannah loved to talk about anything—particularly her garden—so she went off for fifteen minutes about the flowers her gardener had planted this year.

  Jack was clearly relieved to be out of the spotlight, and I felt better about everything.

  All went well until the fish course was served. Jack picked up his fork and started to eat before my father did—which was a no-no in royal etiquette—and I put a discreet hand on his knee to stop him.

  He didn’t know what I was trying to say, but he put his fork down and met my eyes. Eventually, he must have understood my meaning because he didn’t start to eat again until everyone else was.

  My mother had noticed, of course, but no one else seemed to have.

  “Sorry,” he mouthed, giving me a tired smile.

  He hated this. Hated it. Dinner parties like this weren’t my favorite thing in the world, but I’d grown up with them so they were no big deal. This was a big deal to Jack, though, and I could feel how restless he was beside me as the dinner went on hour after hour.

  We finally reached the cheese course, and I was starting to relax. If we could get through this, then I could try to avoid anything else this week that would be too painful.

  Except for the ball. Jack would hate it, but I absolutely had to attend.

  When the dinner finally broke up, my father came over to clap Jack on the back. “Do you want to join us for a drink and cigar?”

  The men always did that after a dinner party—went to the billiard room to drink and smoke, while the ladies went to the parlour.

  There was no way I was going to leave Jack alone, though. “I was going to take him on the tour of the gardens, actually,” I said quickly. “They’re so beautiful in the moonlight, and we need to stretch our legs after the flight earlier today.”

  My father smiled agreeably, but my mother looked outraged. It wasn’t enough to stop me, though. I took Jack by the arm and started out of the dining room.

  Then my mother said, “The other young people might want to join you. Victoria, Edward, Lisette, why don’t you join them on their walk.”

  I almost whimpered at losing our near escape, but there was no way to object without creating a scene that would humiliate my parents.

  So our quiet walk in peace turned out to be an awkward walk with me and Lisette trying to make conversation, Jack putting in a comment here or there when it was appropriate, and Victoria and Edward not saying anything at all.

  It was the typical kind of social farce I’d been part of all my life, but it felt worse than normal. I think because of Jack. He made me notice how artificial it was and how much I didn’t want to be a part of it.

  I fervently wished I was back in Minneapolis, in my apartment or Jack’s apartment, hanging out and eating pizza. Maybe it wasn’t what a princess should want, but I lusted after it like a fantasy.

  We kept the walk short, since it wasn’t particularly fun for anyone, and finally the guests started to leave. We waved them off, as was expected of us, and I ran to catch up with Victoria before she started to leave for her room.

  “Is something wrong?” I called after her.

  She turned around at my voice. “Why would something be wrong?” Her voice was cool, clipped, all wrong.

  She was the prettiest of the three of us sisters, with fair hair that fell in perfect curls, dark blue eyes, and lovely classic features. She was normally outgoing and social, with a great sense of humor, so her behavior tonight wasn’t like her at all.

  “I don’t know,” I said slowly. “But something is definitely wrong. Are you…are you mad at me?”

  “Why would I be mad?”

  I made a frustrated sound in my throat. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I thought things were…were fine between us. Did I do something?”

  She just looked at me, and I could tell she was hurt more than angry.

  “Victoria, tell me what I did. You know why I had to leave.”

  “Yes, I knew. You did it for yourself, without thought for what it would do to anyone else.”

  “What are you talking about?” I was almost in tears, so upset was I by her obvious reproach and my inability to figure out the reason.

  “When you refused to marry Edward, what did you think Mother would do? She wasn’t going to let that fortune get away.”

  I gasped, raising my hand to cover my mouth. “She wants you to marry him now?”

  “Of course she does. What did you think would happen?”

  “But I didn’t think…Victoria, just tell her no. Tell her no like I did.”

  “Some of us care about our families and don’t want to throw them away like so much rubbish.”

  The words were like blows, knocking the wind out of me, making me sway on my feet. “You know that’s not true.”

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to know that.” She turned her back on me then and walked away, with as much grace and dignity as she always had.

  I stood and stared after her, barely able to breathe.

  Maybe I had been selfish. Maybe I had only been thinking about myself. It all had made sense to me—doing what felt right to me, for me—but evidently my sister had to bear the brunt of my decisions.

  I felt an arm go around me, and I buried my face in Jack’s chest.

  “It’s all right,” he murmured against my hair.

  “No, it’s not. She thinks…she said…” I managed to mumble out a mostly coherent explanation of what Victoria had just said to me.

  “Well, it’s not true,” Jack said, when I’d finished. “You weren’t being selfish. She can make decisions for herself just like you can. It’s just wrong for her to pressure and guilt you the way she is.”

  Part of me knew that was true, but it wasn’t the only truth that mattered to me.

  Victoria had been my best friend all my life. We’d stayed up late, telling each other secrets. We’d explored all the nooks and crannies of this palace together. We’d laughed and shopped and done each other’s makeup.

  And I’d ended up hurting her terribly.

  I shook against Jack for a minute before I made myself straighten up. “I’m sorry the dinner party was so terrible.”

  “It’s not your fault. I’m pretty tough. I got through it.”

  He’d gotten through it because he’d known it was temporary. It wasn’t an inevitable part of his life.

  Not the way it was mine.

  ***

  The next day, I told my mother that we weren’t up for any social functions, although I agreed to have tea with her and her friends, as long as Jack didn’t have to come too. My excuse was that Jack wanted to see Villemont, since he’d never been there before, so Mother arranged for the limo to take us on a tour.

  We stopped at every site that was remotely noteworthy, and at every place we visited, people went out of their way to welcome us and show us around. So instead of an enjoyable sightseeing trip, Jack had to face a fuss everywhere we went.

  He wasn’t as miserable as he’d been at the dinner party, but I knew this wasn’t how he would have chosen to spend the day.

/>   At around two in the afternoon, we were sitting on a bench in the main city square, drinking coffee we’d just bought from a café. For the first time, Jack looked genuinely relaxed.

  “I’m sorry about all the hoopla,” I said, trying out his word. “It’s unavoidable.”

  “So you have to deal with that everywhere you go?”

  “For the most part.”

  He made a face. “No wonder you wanted to move to Minneapolis and stay anonymous.”

  “It’s just here, where everyone knows I’m a princess. I could go to Paris and most people wouldn’t know who I am.”

  “But your mother doesn’t want you to live in Paris, any more than she wants you to live in the States. Right?”

  “Right. Princesses stay home.”

  “Wasn’t that Edward guy from Geneva?”

  “Yes. If I’d married him, I would have moved to Geneva, but that’s close enough for my mother.”

  “But Minneapolis is too far.”

  “I think it’s less the distance and more the fact that I’m not living according to her wishes.”

  “You know how I feel about that.”

  “Yes. I know. But I thought one of your rules was to never apply pressure. To let people make their own decisions.”

  “You can make your own decision. But I’m allowed to say what I think about it. And I think it’s just wrong. You can’t let her dictate your entire life.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “If you move back here, you will.”

  I gave him a sober look. “Has it ever occurred to you that I love it here, despite all the hoopla. This is my country, you know.”

  Something flickered on his face, something I couldn’t quite recognize. But then he looked like himself again as he said, “I know. But my point is still valid.”

  Of course it was valid. I wanted to do what was best for me, but I didn’t want to abandon my family or my country. And I didn’t want to hurt the people I loved.

  There was no good or easy answer for me here. Surely Jack could see that.

  “I’m sorry you’re having a terrible time,” I said at last. “But I did warn you.”

  “I know you did.”

  “So you are having a terrible time?”