Prince of my Panties (Royal Package 2)

“All right,” I say, “I’ll make you a deal. If we can’t find a clue or a trail or something more to go on today, I’ll drive you back to the cabin in the morning and leave you there to sew in peace.”

She crosses her arms and shifts in her seat to face me, clearly suspicious. “That sounds reasonable. What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I’ll keep my word. But if we do find something, you keep yours. No more arguing or trying to back out, and we follow the clues until we get to the bottom of what happened when you were a child.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, but when I glance at the passenger’s side, she’s not looking at me. She’s watching the scenery ahead with a faraway expression.

I’m about to ask if she heard me when she says, “What if we do find her?”

“Then you’ll finally have answers. Perspective. And, hopefully, some peace.”

Her brow furrows, but her gaze remains fixed on the road. “Is it crazy that I’m scared? I mean, she’s probably in her sixties or seventies by now, and she wasn’t mean, but…”

I reach out, resting a hand on her thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course, it’s okay to be scared.”

“But I’m grown up now.”

“But the girl she frightened is still a part of you, and it’s okay for her to be scared. Just keep reminding her that you’re an adult and you’re going to take care of her. And that I’ll take care of her, too.”

She takes my hand, threading her fingers through mine, and my chest goes tight with longing.

How good would it feel to be just two people who like each other out for a drive on holiday? Looking forward to exploring a new place, sharing a nice dinner, and spending the night in each other’s arms?

What would it be like not to be lying to her right now?

For a moment, I consider confessing what I found last night when I was parked outside the pizza place in Frye, shoplifting their Wi-Fi, but in the end, I trust the voice in my head that says I’ll never get her to cooperate if I tell her everything.

But I can at least tell her something true. “I like you, Elizabeth.”

“I like you, too, I guess,” she grumbles. “A little.”

“Well, that’s a start.”

Her lips twitch at the edges, and she squeezes my hand. “It is.”

14

Elizabeth

I’m a horrible person.

Awful. Selfish. Wretched.

I shouldn’t be encouraging Jeffrey to get attached to me in any way—even as a friend. And I certainly shouldn’t be strolling through the village commons with him, hand in hand like we’re lovers on holiday.

But his fingers feel so good and safe and right threaded through mine.

Every minute we spend wandering around in town there’s a greater risk someone will notice that I’m actually Princess Elizabeth in a wig and run to tattle to my parents. But still, I don’t want our lunch break to end.

“Should we get ice cream?” I nod to my left, away from our hotel and the Jaguar parked in the tiny lot behind it.

“I can’t eat another bite.” Jeffrey’s hand hovers over his still perfectly flat stomach. “I don’t regret that third potato pancake, though. I had no idea Rindish food could be so damned good.”

“It’s the butter. Delia soaks everything in really good butter. I think she even puts it in the lemonade.”

He smiles. “Then I’m glad I stuck to water.” He squeezes my hand. “But I could go for a cup of tea. I heard there’s a good place by the marina.”

I frown. “Really? Where did you hear that?”

“A friend of mine who skis here in the winters. Want to check it out? We could walk. Or drive, if you’d rather. If you’re tired.”

“No, let’s walk,” I say, swinging our joined hands as I pull in a deep breath. “I’m feeling so much better, and it’s only a few kilometers. But I’ll warn you,” I say as we descend the steps at the end of the pedestrian portion of the village, “I’m not sure this tea shop exists. I haven’t been to the marina for years, but the last time I was there, it was all bars and boat rental places. No coffee or tea shops.”

“Well, if there’s nothing there, at least it will be a nice walk. It’s such a pretty day.” He leads the way across the street to the footpath next to the aqueduct, the one that the locals know is the best shortcut to the lake.

But Jeffrey’s not a local…

“How do you know Rue?” I peer at him over the top of my glasses. “Have you been here before?”

“I got online last night and poked around in the maps app. I wanted to get a feel for where you grew up and see if the hotel I wanted to book was walkable from the square.”