J.T. realized that he was looking at what had once been a great society but now he knew it was dying. There were so very few children in Lanconia. Here, sitting at lunch with twenty-seven people, he guessed the average age to be fifty-two. There were only four children under sixteen when there should have been a dozen or more. He knew that too often the young people left home at an early age, prowled the streets and cafes of Escalon for a while, then left the country altogether.
At three o’clock he realized the people were impatient with politeness and wanted to get back to work. He asked if they could see the vineyard.
He had been given a tour before but then he had looked at the place with disgust. Now he wondered if there was something he could do to help the economy of the country.
Aria seemed to be happy, walking up the mountain with three women, one of whom had a baby that Aria seemed fascinated with, four guardsmen surrounding her about twenty feet away and watching the area with hawklike gazes.
The women started picking grapes and Aria, without thinking, joined them. He smiled at the looks on the faces of the Lanconian women but they recovered quickly and picked alongside their princess. Aria passed out sticks of Juicy Fruit and moments later he heard laughter.
He left her with the women and guards as he went back down the mountains to the old winery that was dug into the side of the hill. This year’s grape crop was the best in four years, but it still wasn’t enough to make a profit. The wine had to age for three years, so even if this year had been magnificent, it would be three years before the wine could be sold. And in three years’ time hundreds more Lanconians would be forced to leave the country.
J.T. stood outside in the sunshine and held a bunch of ripe green grapes and watched the people carrying basket loads of grapes down the mountainside. If only there was a quick cash crop for grapes.
Raisins, he thought. Men at war living on canned field rations might welcome the freshness of raisins. Maybe he could persuade the U.S. government to buy raisins along with the vanadium. Maybe his majesty the king would refuse to allow American bases in Lanconia if America didn’t buy raisins.
As J.T. thought, he wondered how the Lanconians would take to the idea of raisins. They were a proud people and they might refuse to have anything to do with something as lowly as a raisin.
“Have you ever thought of doing something with the grapes besides making wine?” he began, talking to the four older Lanconian men near him.
J.T. needn’t have worried. Lanconians were proud but not stupidly so. They were willing to try anything to help their impoverished country. Their only concern was that if they used the grapes now for raisins, three years from now they would have no wine.
“Next year we irrigate and we have a bumper crop.” The words weren’t out of his mouth before he realized he wouldn’t be there next year.
It was six before he got Aria back into the car and they headed back to the palace. She was sunburned, windblown, and tired—and he had never wanted anything so much in his life as he wanted to make love to her.
“Have a good time?” he asked in a voice that was little more than a whisper.
“Oh yes, a lovely time. You seemed to enjoy it too.”
“I did,” he said, somewhat surprised.
At the palace they were whisked back into the present. Lady Werta was there, angry beyond words at Aria. Julian was livid and wanted to discuss her behavior. J.T. thought a couple of her retainers were going to choke when Aria thanked her guardsmen for watching over her.
J.T. put his hands in his pockets and went off whistling.
He felt more secure now that the guardsmen were watching her. The day had been a good one and he didn’t even mind the way Walters fussed over him. J.T. let the little man tell him all the gossip Aria’s unusual day had caused. There were stories of the crown princess drinking alone with goatherders, of Her Royal Highness working as a field hand. And some people were beginning to hate Lieutenant Montgomery, who was trying to make a monarchist country into a socialist one.
J.T. sat in the tub and smiled.
He didn’t think he could face dinner with Aria’s disapproving relatives and he was pleased with the palace system when he realized he could order dinner to be taken wherever he wanted. Walters told him how to get to the library and J.T. went there to eat and be alone and think.
* * *
Aria left the drawing room as soon as she could get away. It had been a heavenly day of laughter and then she had returned to the palace to find everyone treating her as if she were a traitor to her country. Julian was angry because she had been alone with “that despicable American.” The Lord High Chamberlain had berated her because he thought she was actually Kathy Montgomery and had been out with her husband and because her behavior was very common.
But no matter what anyone said, Aria was deliciously happy. Maybe she had been so demanding all her life because, in her heart, she felt herself to be useless. Today she got some idea of how important her role was to her country.
And how important Jarl Montgomery was to her life.
It seemed that the happiest times in her life had been spent with him: cooking out on the beach, making love on the stairs, even crying in his arms had been a pleasure.
She had been very disappointed when he had not come to dinner. She walked down the hall and saw one of the Royal Guardsmen standing as if he were a statue instead of a man. A few days ago she would never have considered speaking to a guard.
“Excuse me,” she said politely, “do you know where Lieutenant Montgomery is?”
“In the library, Your Highness,” he answered.
“Thank you.”