The captain looked at his watch. “Thirty-eight hours.”
“And food?”
“He’s had a sandwich and a Coke in twenty-two hours.”
The congressman nodded. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Aria had difficulty concealing her astonishment. “Lieutenant Montgomery did not want to marry a royal princess? He does not want to be married to a queen?”
The WAC was not going to tell Aria the dreadful things J.T. had said about her, that she was inhuman, a piece of marble, that she wasn’t anything like a woman, that he would much rather give his love to the statue of Venus de Milo. Instead, the WAC explained what they had had to do to get J.T. to agree to the marriage.
“He believes there will be a—what is that word?”
“Divorce, or annulment.”
“But royalty is not permitted to separate—no matter what. A royal princess marries once and that is all.” Aria looked at a picture of President Roosevelt on the wall. Too clearly she remembered the time on the island with this insolent, despicable man named Montgomery. For the sake of her country she had agreed to marry him, agreed to spend the rest of her life with him, but now he was saying he didn’t want to marry her.
“I will not tell him we are to be married for always,” she whispered.
“I’m afraid there’s more.” The WAC cursed Congressman Smith for detailing this job to her. She rather liked the princess, liked anyone who was willing to fight for her country.
“The army had rented a house for the two of you in Virginia, complete with horses and a butler, but the lieutenant refuses to have anything to do with it. He says he wants to return to his job in Key West and you two are to live in a single-family house—no servants, no special privileges. You’re to live on his military pay also.”
The WAC was well aware that no one had told the princess of J.T.’s wealth, and now, looking at her, the WAC thought she had no idea what J.T. was demanding of her. She couldn’t imagine this elegant woman donning an apron and washing a sinkful of dishes. “He says that if you’re to learn to be an American, he wants it done properly.”
“The lieutenant certainly has many opinions, doesn’t he?”
You don’t know the half of it, the WAC thought. “Then you agree to his terms?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No, I guess not. If you’re ready, the chaplain’s waiting.”
Aria didn’t say a word but stood, her head held high. What she was doing was so much more important than the romantic nonsense of a white wedding gown and people wishing her joy and happiness. It didn’t matter that the dress she was wearing was one she had had on for two days, that it was wrinkled and sagging in places.
She stood before the door until the WAC opened it.
Outside were waiting six other WACs, all of them smiling happily.
“They don’t know who you are,” the first WAC whispered. “They think the army’s reunited you with your lover and you’re to be married today.”
“Something old,” said one woman holding out a little gold locket. “It’s also something borrowed. It was my grandmother’s.”
“Something new,” said another, offering her a pretty little handkerchief.
“And something blue.” A third woman gave Aria a corsage of blue-dyed carnations. She pinned it on Aria’s shoulders as another woman took Aria’s shoe and slipped a penny inside for good luck.
Aria was bewildered by this treatment. So far, the women in America had been very good to her, but the men…! She wondered how the women coped with the rude, ill-mannered men.
The conference room was to be used for the ceremony. No one had so much as bothered to push the table out of the way so there was no aisle for her to walk down, no older man to give her away. She walked along the wall beside the WAC toward the group of men at the far end. There were a few men in suits but about a dozen men wore uniforms, their chests resplendent with medals. It seemed that at least there was enough significance to this wedding that some of the higher officials attended.
Lieutenant Montgomery was sitting in a chair, half asleep, his head propped on his arm. His cheeks and chin were dark with unshaved whiskers. His uniform was dirty and rumpled.
Aria’s anger rose immediately. Perhaps these men were afraid to tell him how disrespectful he was, but she wasn’t afraid. She stood in front of him. “How dare you appear before me looking like that,” she said, glaring down at him.
He didn’t even open his eyes. “The dulcet tones of Her Royal Highness.”