“You are staying with me. You’re not leaving my sight.”
“But Julian and I—”
“You’d be dead now if you’d gone out alone with him yesterday. Now sit there and be quiet.”
Aria sat down on the edge of a hard chair, her body as rigid as flesh and muscle could be. Lieutenant Montgomery was ruining her present life and her future life. She wouldn’t blame Julian if he left her, but then she remembered his words of last night and she wondered if she cared if he left. Of course, she wasn’t going to delude herself that she could get anyone better for a husband. A princess’s choices were severely limited.
“What is this?” J.T. asked loudly, making her jump. “Is this an entry for snow?”
“It’s probably for Freddie’s snow cream.” Perhaps she could put an ad in a paper seeking some royally connected man who didn’t want to be a king.
“Snow cream?” J.T. asked, interrupting her thoughts.
On the other hand, maybe she could rule alone, a virgin queen like England’s Queen Elizabeth, but then it was a little late for the virgin part and she would rather like to have children.
“Aria!” J.T. snapped. “Answer me. What is this bill for snow?”
She sighed. Sometimes he could be so common. “Freddie loves snow cream so snow is brought down from the mountains for him.”
“He eats this stuff every day?”
“Of course not. He only has it four or five times a year, but of course the snow must be ready for him should he decide he wants some.”
“How stupid of me not to realize that,” J.T. said quietly. “And are these other expenses for other necessities of life? Here are imported blueberries.”
“For Great-Aunt Sophie.” She was beginning to understand what he was saying. “These people are of the royal family, they are entitled to a few luxuries.”
“Fresh salmon from Scotland?” J.T. questioned.
“For Aunt Bradley.”
“How do you get these things during a war?”
Aria kept her face motionless. “My Aunt Bradley seems to have an ‘arrangement’ with a few pilots. I have never been inclined to look into the exact details of how she procures the supplies.”
“I can imagine,” J.T. said. “ ‘Procure’ might be the correct word. The Lanconian government pays for this and your Aunt Bradley—”
“Stop,” Aria warned.
J.T. looked over the ledger at her. Minute by minute she was becoming more princesslike, more like the prig he had first met. “You’ve got your underwear back on, haven’t you?” He was pleased to see her blush but she didn’t relax her rigid posture. “Here,” he said, holding out a stick of Juicy Fruit gum.
“Ooooh,” she said with great pleasure in her voice.
“I never got that reaction for anything I ever did.”
She started chewing, the gum snapping. “You did, only you were making too much noise to hear me.”
He looked at her with lowered lashes. “You’d better behave or I’ll give you what you’re asking for. Why don’t you find something to do and stop sitting on the edge of your chair? You’re giving me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Sure thing, baby,” she said, and got up.
He could hear her muttering “heebie-jeebies” under her breath, practicing the new word. It was difficult for him to concentrate on the books. The gum seemed to have transformed her back into his princess, the one who wore sundresses and pin-curled hair.
He forced himself to look back at the ledgers. As far as he could tell, the Lanconian royal family consisted of a bunch of parasites who had no idea they lived in a poor country that was surrounded by other countries at war. They were a large group of spoiled children who had never been made to grow up. If he had any control over the group, he would parcel out Aria’s duties among them. That young Barbara would probably love getting out into the public and Gena could review troops. He didn’t know what use Freddie, Nickie, and Toby could be but they could damn well sit through bug lectures. Great-Aunt Sophie could go to whatever ceremonies they had where cannons were shot off. At least she would be able to hear what was going on.
“What’s that little smile for?” Aria asked.
J.T. leaned back in the chair. “I was thinking about your family.”