be allowed to stay for a while?’
‘A chaperon? Heaven forbid! I’m sure she’d rather come home than submit to that,’ she said. Just to see how deep the crack went. ‘Poor girl.’
‘Scarcely that,’ he replied, abruptly losing the smile. Not very far, then.
‘There’s more than one way to experience poverty,’ she muttered, but not quietly enough, and his eyebrows rose with sufficient alacrity to indicate that he was unused to having his actions questioned. Especially since he clearly thought he was being incredibly relaxed about the whole matter.
‘You’re suggesting emotional impoverishment?’ he demanded.
‘I wouldn’t be that impertinent.’
‘Oh, I think you would.’
Cold, but perceptive. He didn’t wait for her to admit it, but picked up the telephone and spoke briefly into it before glancing back at her.
She’d been holding her breath, but his expression did not suggest he was about to have her bodily ejected. Yet.
‘So,’ he continued, as if there had been no interruption. ‘Enlighten me. What are you suggesting, Miss Varndell?’
Her mouth dried. Lecturing the man on the best way to raise his niece was not going to get her the prized interview. But it might get her some memorable quotes.
If she provoked him sufficiently she fancied she’d be able to name her price for the story. And Trevor McCarthy would have to stand in line.
‘Well?’ he demanded.
Well, why not? He’d asked for it, and the least she could do in return for his unwitting assistance in promoting her career was to give the Prince the benefit of her experience.
‘Young people need to test themselves against the world so that they can learn from their mistakes. Discover safe boundaries. Keeping them wrapped in cotton wool leaves them vulnerable.’ His face remained expressionless. No hint of that smile now. She swallowed nervously. ‘Later.’
‘You are speaking from personal experience?’
‘Well, I’m young,’ she hedged. Then realised that the Princess would probably think her well past it at twenty-four. ‘Well, youngish,’ she amended. ‘Young enough to remember being Katie’s age.’
Not that she’d had parents to restrict her movements. But school had been worse. You couldn’t have a row with an institution. And slamming doors was pointless. You didn’t get understanding. You just got a lecture on the subject of thoughtful behaviour, followed by a week of detention.
‘Well, thank you for your advice, but I’d rather my niece didn’t make her mistakes on my watch. She can return to Montorino to complete her education.’
‘That’s a little harsh, isn’t it? One mistake and she’s out?’
His mouth straightened into a hard line that warned her to have a care. Then, presumably because she was an outsider and could not be expected to understand this, he gave a curt bow of the head and, conceding the point, said, ‘Maybe it is harsh, but this family has provided the newsprint of Europe with more than enough scandal. I do not want a photograph of Katerina, under age and behaving badly, to appear in your newspapers,’ he said.
Her throat dried.
‘I suppose the British press is no worse than anywhere else, but they’d make the most of such a story,’ he continued.
‘Oh, yes. I see.’ He’d been speaking generally. It took a moment for her heartbeat to return to something approaching normal. ‘It’s, um, just as well there wasn’t a newspaper photographer lurking outside when she made a break for it, then.’
There was nothing in his expression to suggest that he had even noticed her sarcasm, but his upper lip was so stiff that any kind of expression would have been difficult.
‘That kind of photographer only lurks where there is likely to be something worth his time. If tonight’s escapade becomes public knowledge they’ll be stacked ten deep.’
‘It won’t become public knowledge, surely? Unless she makes a fuss when the leash is jerked.’
‘You’re suggesting that if I don’t jerk it no one will notice her?’
‘Well, she wasn’t wearing a tiara.’
‘You recognised her,’ he pointed out.
Oh, sugar. Think. Think. ‘Only because she was coming out of your official residence.’ Another raised brow queried how she knew that. ‘I’ve seen the flag,’ she said, which appeared to satisfy him. ‘I wouldn’t have recognised her if I’d seen her in the street.’
‘No?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘In black denim, and with a hair-do from hell, she didn’t look like anyone’s idea of a princess.’
‘Nevertheless, seventeen is a dangerous age,’ he declared with the confidence of a man who remembered just how dangerous it could be. ‘Which is why I am sending her home.’
‘It’s a dangerous age wherever you live,’ she replied. And, since she had nothing to lose, she added, ‘Or are the boys in Montorino different? A little less testosterone-driven?’ She met his cool stare, matched it, then, with measured insolence, added, ‘Sir?’
‘Not noticeably,’ he admitted after an epic pause. ‘But I can be certain that she’ll receive appropriate respect there.’
‘She’s seventeen! She doesn’t want respect. She wants to have fun—and you can’t keep her locked up in an enchanted tower for ever. Try it and she’ll escape with the first good-looking scoundrel with a head for heights—’ Too late, she remembered that his sister had done something very like that.
There was a tap on the door and, with the temperature of Prince Alexander’s expression sinking in direct proportion to the depth of the hole she was digging with her mouth, Laura seized the opportunity to shut up.
He continued to stare at her for what seemed like for ever before he finally turned away and snapped, ‘Come in.’
One of the doors opened and a young maid appeared bearing a first aid box resting on a silver tray. She dropped a curtsey in the direction of the Prince before putting the tray on the table in front of Laura. ‘Excuse,’ she said, nervously. ‘You will—? I will—?’
Laura smiled encouragingly, but the girl was too shy to respond. Instead she picked up the first aid box and, her hands shaking noticeably, tried to open it. The lid at first refused to give but when, in desperation, she gave it a sharp tug it flew open, scattering the contents over the table and floor.
There was a moment of utter stillness before, with a wail of anguish, the girl rushed from the room.
‘Why on earth do these silly girls behave as if I’m going to beat them?’ the Prince demanded.
‘I can’t imagine,’ Laura said caustically as she bent to retrieve the contents of the box. ‘You’d better
