Chapter Nine
Chapter One
“You’ve got to help me!” Princess Vanessa Alexandria Maria Teresa Von Volzemburg pleaded in desperation.
“What’s wrong?” her close friend Prudence Martin-Wilder asked from the other end of the phone line. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay,” Vanessa replied, kicking off her designer shoes and flinging herself onto the ivory damask-covered chaise lounge in her suite at the Plaza Hotel. “If I have to shake another hand or smile another empty royal smile I’m going to scream.” Her voice was shaky with exhaustion. “Here I am in New York City, the most vibrant and exciting city in the world, and I’m locked up like a prisoner.”
Vanessa stared out the hotel window at the sparkling city lights with longing. A big world was teeming with life out there. Without her.
She felt so trapped. Her prison walls were invisible bars constructed out of ingrained loyalty to her family and her country. She was burned-out from months and months of continuous projects—racing from one official function to another, putting duty above her own health, working through two bouts of flu and one of bronchitis, not pausing for illness or fatigue until she was so depleted she couldn’t even think straight anymore.
“What are you doing in New York?” Prudence asked.
Vanessa rubbed her sore feet. You’d think shoes that cost several thousand dollars and had been made just for her would be comfortable as well as stunning. Many was the time she’d longed to show up for some formal occasion wearing an old pair of broken-in athletic shoes under her Valentino haute couture gown. “I’m here for the International Chocolate Manufacturers Convention promoting the chocolate makers of Volzemburg.”
“A tough job, I know, but someone has to do it,” Prudence said in a teasing voice.
“I’ve been working since six this morning, and it’s now after eleven at night. It’s been like that every day. I don’t think I’ll be able to look at another chocolate truffle for a month,” Vanessa groaned.
Prudence laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Okay, so maybe I’ll be ready for more chocolate in an hour or two. But I won’t be ready to return to Volzemburg.” Vanessa shoved restless trembling fingers through her shoulder-length blond hair, ruining the smooth line of her expensive cut. The royal hairdresser Mimi would be distraught at the way Vanessa’s hair looked now. Tough noogies. “My father has been driving me crazy with his demands that I announce my engagement to Sebastian de Koonan.”
“Sebastian…he’s that wealthy business tycoon from Volzemburg, right?” Prudence asked.
“Right. His lineage is almost as good as mine. And he’s good-looking in his own way, I suppose. But the idea of marrying him…” Vanessa shuddered. “It would be like marrying my brother or cousin. I just don’t feel that way about him.”
“Have you told your father that?”
“Yes, certainly I’ve told him, but my father doesn’t listen to me. I can’t take this anymore!” Her voice cracked. “I’ve got to get out of this prison of responsibilities, even if only for a few days.”
“Now, Vanessa, don’t do anything rash,” Prudence warned, clearly recognizing that tone of voice from their teenage days when they’d both attended a private girls’ school together for a year.
“Don’t do anything rash?” Vanessa repeated. “This from a woman who went bungee jumping?”
“Yes, well, I’m not a princess. As you said at the time, you do have responsibilities. You can’t just take off on a vacation or something.”
“I can’t?” Vanessa sat up a little straighter. “Why not?”
“Because your life is planned out months in advance, your royal schedule booked down to the last second. Isn’t that what you told me?”
“Yes, but next week my father has me spending time with Sebastian at the palace. There aren’t any major charity functions or official business events planned.” Excitement took hold and for the first time Vanessa began to see a glimmer of light at the end of what had been a very long, dark and lonely tunnel for her. “I could just take off.”
“No, you couldn’t. That would be dangerous. You’re a wealthy princess. If you went missing your father would send out the Marines for you, or the Volzemburg equivalent of that.” Prudence’s father was a sergeant major in the U.S. Marine Corps, and last year she’d married a Marine, so she tended to voice things in Marine-like terms.
“Ah, but I wouldn’t go missing,” Vanessa said. “I could stay right here in New York City.”
“Your father wouldn’t let you do that.”
“He would if he thought I was sick. And I have been sick. I’m so beat that I’m sure I’m about to come down with something. Yes.” Vanessa cast a determined look around the well-appointed room. “I need a rest from this prison. And I have a plan that I think will work!”
“I think it’s crazy.”
“You haven’t even heard it yet,” Vanessa protested.
Prudence sighed. “Okay, go ahead. Convince me.”
“I tell my father I’ve gotten some illness. Nothing so serious he’d fly over to check on me, but something that would prevent me from getting on a plane. A terrible cold-flu thing involving my ears would be perfect.”
“That sounds real medical,” said Prudence, a school-teacher, and therefore, far too practical in Vanessa’s opinion. “What makes you think he’ll believe that you happened to get a ‘cold-flu thing’ just when you’re supposed to fly home to see Sebastian? You don’t think he’ll get suspicious?”
“Not if I have a physician speak to him.”
“How will you manage that?”
Vanessa frowned a moment before the answer came to her. “I could hire someone. This city is full of actors.”
“Okay, let’s say for the sake of argument you do convince your father. What does that get you? You’d have to stay in your suite pretending to be sick.”
“Not if I can convince my lady-in-waiting to help me, and I’m sure I can do that.” The enthusiasm in Vanessa’s voice increased as she saw her plan taking shape.
“Vanessa, you can’t just go off on your own in New York City.” Prudence sounded concerned. “You’re a princess. You need security of some sort.”
“Which brings us back to
