sighed. “Okay. Do you know where I can find a cart setup so I can take it myself?”
He gestured vaguely toward the pantry. “Elissa made some up before she left.”
“Thanks,” Lily said, carrying the bags of increasingly chilly food over to the cart. She stopped and looked back at Henri. “Look, I know it isn’t the best method, but I have three steaks here that are getting cold. Can I stick them in the microwave to heat them up?”
Henri looked horrified. “You jest, surely!”
She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m not kidding. So, can I do it?”
He gave a dramatic sigh, then nodded. “The meat only. No more than thirty seconds.” He rolled his eyes. “But I am not taking responsibility for the end result.”
Lily smiled. “Merci, Henri. I appreciate it.”
“De rien.” He waved his hand and headed for the exit before she could ask any more potentially offensive questions. “Good luck.”
She needed it. When she got up to Princess Drucille’s room, she was ushered in by a small, mouse-faced girl with worried eyes.
Princess Drucille was leaning back on the chaise lounge, talking to her daughter and another woman. “I don’t care what he wants, he needs a wife, or else the entire monarchy will dissolve. And that would not suit me at all.”
Lady Ann nodded urgently.
“So, wait,” the other woman said, and Lily recognized her accent as south Jersey. “Is he or is he not engaged to this Lady Penelope?”
“Not yet,” the princess said crisply. “So if you know of any eligible debutantes, I would be open to meeting them. Your paper might be very interested in having you cover this in your column.”
“Search for a new princess.” The woman nodded with a gleam in her eye. “I like it.”
“And, at the end, he’ll almost certainly propose to Lady Penelope, and I promise you will be the first to know. It will be a Caroline Horton exclusive.”
Ah, Caroline Horton. The Page Seven gossip columnist for the New York Tattler.
Caroline stood and put her hand out. “You have yourself a deal, princess.”
It was obvious that Princess Drucille preferred more deference, but she accepted the woman’s hand anyway. “Remember to keep our conversation confidential.”
The girl who had let Lily in flashed her a nervous look, and Lily gave a silent nod and took a step back. When Caroline Horton started for the door, Lily moved back into the room as if she’d just arrived.
“Your dinner is here, Your Highness, along with the champagne and—” she gestured at the flower arrangement “—your flowers.”
Princess Drucille moved to the cart, and said crisply, “One of the salads and steaks is for Prince Conrad.”
Lily was confused. “It was my impression that he didn’t want to be interrupted.”
“Nonsense, he’s expecting you. Take it to him now before it’s cold.” The princess made a shooing motion with her hand. “Run along.”
Lily picked up the platter with the extra plate and headed for the door. It had been her distinct impression that Prince Conrad didn’t want to be disturbed, but if the princess said he was expecting her, Lily was not in any position to argue.
But when she got to his room, she found the prince had company in the form of Brittany Oliver, a Hollywood It Girl from a couple of years back. It was obvious he was not expecting her and that, moreover, she had committed the one sin she’d so confidently told him she wouldn’t: she’d invaded his privacy.
“I didn’t order this,” Conrad said, his voice tired, as if he’d expected just this kind of infraction from Lily.
Lily might have felt stung except that he was absolutely correct, he hadn’t ordered it, his stepmother had. “I apologize for the interruption,” she said sincerely, “but your stepmother said you were waiting for this.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Brittany Oliver repositioning herself on the sofa so that she was more clearly in view. “She said I was to bring it to you right away.”
“My late father’s wife says a great many things that are best ignored.” His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened. “This is an excellent example of one.”
“I’m sorry,” Lily said. “But it’s my job to not ignore the wishes of our patrons, so when she said—”
“I told you I wished to have privacy.”
“Yes, I realize that, but when your stepmother—”
“My late father’s wife.”
“—told me you wished to have dinner…. But since that is clearly incorrect, I’ll take it away.”
For just a moment, Lily thought she saw a spark come into his eye. “If I refuse this now, you’ll have to return it to Drucille and Ann, is that right?”
Lily kept her face impassive, even though she would rather have eaten wasps than return to Princess Drucille’s room tonight. “Yes.”
He kept his eyes on her for another moment before taking the platter from her. His mouth curved into the slightest smile. “That will be all,” he said, setting it down on the foyer table. “Thank you.”
Lily nodded and was turning to leave when the actress on the sofa spoke.
“Um, excuse me? Waitress?”
Lily turned to face the woman. “What can I do for you?”
“I think there are photographers outside. Wanting to take my picture…?” She gestured airily toward the window.
Lily stood in place. “Really?”
The girl gave an exasperated sigh. “Can you look?” She gave a completely false laugh and looked at Prince Conrad. “You know how they are. Always looking for a story about me.”
Lily went to the window and looked out. There was no one there. The occasional car drifting past served as the city equivalent to crickets chirping. “I don’t see anyone,” she said.
Brittany scrambled to her feet. “You don’t?” She rushed in an unbecoming fashion to the window and looked out, her face falling when she saw no one. “But I told them…” She looked at Conrad. “I told my people to keep them away and I guess they did. That’s good.” She cleared her throat delicately and said, “Would you excuse me for a moment while I go…powder my nose?” She headed toward the bathroom, but Lily noticed she stopped for a moment to take her cell phone out of her purse.
Lily watched her go, then turned to Conrad. “Will that be all?”
He was looking in the direction of the window, and had obviously not seen Brittany take her phone. “Have there been photographers out there tonight?”
“Not
