An Imperfect Princess (23 page)

His hand
twitched, as if he wanted to access his computer to look up the answer.  
However, he was disconnected from his internal circuits due to the EMP earlier,
and he could not very well break out a laptop in the middle of a dinner on a
primitive world.  It would cause far too many questions.

He hedged his
bets. “Of course,” he said.  “We would not be here tonight otherwise, would
we?”

She smiled
brightly at him, but inside, she was sighing.  That would have been a fun
conversation, exposing him as a fraud among the nobility of this country.  The
Konkastians were ruthless, but they were also selfish preservationists.  He’d
cut and run to save his own skin.

“I don’t know,
if you have set yourself with Bonaparte, you might still be in London tonight,
but in the prison instead,” James offered with a grin.

Dinner continued
on uneventfully, the topic drifting from politics to economics to art.  Thanks
to Clarissa’s tutelage–and leading in some places–Eneria appeared to be
brilliant, witty, and well versed in all the proper topics any gentlewoman
ought to know. 

Her mother, for
once, would have been proud of her.

However, over
the apple tarts presented for dessert, the topic drifted over to families.

“My cousin, Lady
Caroline Whitford–you know, the one who was engaged to Chesterfield but broke
it off to marry an American instead?  It was all the scandal a few years ago.” 
The marquis leaned forward.  “I hear her daughter had plans to break her own
engagement and elope with a commoner, but she was stood up by the scoundrel
days before her wedding and had to go through with it after all.”

“Sounds
familiar,” Captain Konkast and Eneria both muttered together at the same time. 

She widened her eyes
at the same time he narrowed his. 

And then she
realized her mistake in doing so. Her lorgnette was around her neck, and her
eyes–her fairly distinct hazel eyes–were completely exposed. 

He’d seen her
face once before, after all.

“Speaking of
familiar things,” Captain Kordan said carefully.  “You seem quite familiar to
me all of a sudden, Princess Eneria.”

He was trying
his own verbal trap. “Certainly not, if you’re calling me by a name I have
never heard.  I am the Princess Elinor.”

“My mistake,” he
said smoothly.  “I am looking for a certain traitor to our country here in
England, actually.”  He gripped his wineglass, and she was aware that he could
crush it within his hands easily.  Konkastians were very strong, physically. 
His lined face, which showed his age and his pride, was still perfectly
proportioned.   He was no green cadet to be fooled.  Catching her was probably his
ticket to promotion, perhaps as far as admiralty.

“A traitor? How
dreadful.  What did he do?”

He downed his
wineglass in one fell swoop.  “
She
stole several million pounds of
precious jewels from our country.” 

“Would that be a
criminal then, not a traitor?”

She should not
have been a flamboyant princess.  She should have been a kitchen maid. 
Of
course
they were still after the cargo.  It was never meant to leave
Konkastian territory.  If word got around town that her wealth was all in
jewels, she was toast.

“They are one
and the same to our country.”

With that, he
stood up and casually aimed a laser gun at her, causing gasps and screams from
the other guests.

“I grow tired of
this charade, Eneria d’Munt.  I was hoping you would put on a better
performance.  And to wear that stone... what a foolish child!”

Another
mistake.  He had recognized the opal in the pendant, even if the housing of the
stone had changed.  Eneria realized she
was
a fool–she had ceased to
think like a wanted fugitive.

“What on Earth
is going on here?” her dance partner said, aghast.  “Call the constables! He
has a...  gun?”  The tiny laser pistol looked like no weapon seen on Earth before.

Eneria calmly
took a bite of dinner and waved a forkful of the delicious pudding at the
enemy.  Her heart was pounding, but she knew she was in no danger from his
pistol.  Now, he could rip her throat out with his bare hands if he so desired,
but he still did not seem to realize he had been disabled completely.
“Sit down, Captain.  You’re making a scene.  And that’s a charming toy you have
there, but this is no place to be playing with toys.”

In response, he
pulled the trigger.  Nothing happened.  His own eyes bugged out, shocked that
his gun was completely nonfunctional.

By the time he
realized that he had been outsmarted, he made ready to lunge across the table. 
However, he was stopped by the report of a pistol.  Kordan immediately slumped
over into his dessert. 

More screaming
ensued.  James held a real dual pistol in one hand, a stunned expression on his
face, as if he could not believe he had actually pulled the trigger.

She looked at
the captain and the rapidly spreading greenish stain on his uniform.  Now
that
was probably going to cause an interesting discussion among the learned men at
the party. Green blood! His men had leaped up, but without their laser guns
working–and without the details of what had just transpired and no means of
getting orders –they were reluctant to act as well.

In a fight of
sword against gun, the gun will always win.  However, those rules broke down
with all electronics past a certain level of sophistication.  Sometimes the
more primitive things worked when the electronic things did not.

“He’s not dead,”
she called to the room.  “But I think he’ll need a physician fast.”  She turned
to the nearest confused red-coated Konkastian.  “I think you and your captain
have worn out your welcome.  I do not believe you will find the traitor you
seek in England.  You had best return to the Continent fast before word of this
incident reaches the Queen.”

The grunt
soldier nodded dumbly and went off to confer with his peers.

So like Kordan,
she thought disdainfully.  He probably had come up with his hunch on his own
and acted impulsively without consulting his crew.   Good for her, terrible for
them. 

She did not
grimace as she looked on at the prone body of her enemy.  She had seen much
worse, and he probably wasn’t even dead.  However, she couldn’t help herself
and gave him that same rude gesture that had started it all. She felt quite a
lot better for it.

Aijo landed in
her hair, whisper soft.  “I’ve altered his memories,” the fairy said.  “The
ship that washed up in Cornwall was a wooden fishing ship, not a spaceship.” 
She was almost invisible in the candlelight.  “James also made sure to drop his
‘study’ on Earth’s natural EMP properties within earshot of one of the
underlings again, and they all firmly believe the planet itself is what is
causing them to fritz out.  They’re all spooked and nervous and they want to go
home very badly.”

“Let’s hope they
do so quickly,” Enny murmured back fervently.

The party was
effectively over.  The constables arrived, and Enny found herself explaining
that the Konkastians mistook her for someone they were sent to assassinate. 
She did not want them arrested, but she wanted them gone from England.

Hopefully,
hopefully
,
they’d take the hint and leave.

The group
huddled in the library of the townhouse after the guests and the constables
left around 2AM.  Marilyn had been taken upstairs by Mrs. Thomas, as she had
passed out some time ago.

“I’m so sorry
Clarissa,” Enny said, her head in her hands.  “I didn’t imagine your dinner
party would turn out so wretchedly.”

“It’s okay,”
Clarissa said, with a wry smile.  “I’m the talk of the town again.  I had four
different eligible young men ask to come visit me next week, all expressing
their condolences over the unfortunate incident. 

“Have they left
yet, Aijo?” Eneria asked the fairy, who was sitting on a lampshade.

“Not yet,” she
replied.  “But I put in some false recall orders, which I’m sure they’re going
to jump all over.  I also altered Kordan’s memory; he will suddenly recall that
the Princess had dark brown eyes, not blueish hazel.”

“Do you think
they’ll leave for good?” James asked.  “Maybe it is best if we leave London for
now.”

“But Clarissa’s
Season... and your work in Parliament–”

“Is almost over,”
Clarissa said firmly.  “The events are winding down, and I dare say ours will
be one of the last large scale parties of the year.  We can leave now and give
an aura of mystery for both myself and you.  It is better to be missed fondly
than to be found annoyingly present.”

Eneria looked at
her, surprised at the new-found steel in her voice.  She was growing up, it
seemed.

“What about
James? I thought he loved London.”  Eneria looked at him squarely, at those
unfathomable black eyes.

He shifted in
the great winged chair, looking comfortable for the first time in this home
that had fallen in his lap uninvited.  “I learned something myself this
summer,” he said, steepling his hands together.  “Clinging to my old life was
wrong.  I needed to adapt.  I can still be a part of the Royal Society even
from my estate in Cornwall.  Especially if it means... well, never mind.”

His unspoken
words hung in the air.

Especially if
it means I can be with you.

The tension
crackled between them. Sensing that she was suddenly a third wheel, Clarissa
left them, citing exhaustion.

“She is turning
out to be a fine young woman,” James said when she left.  “When I first met
her, I thought her a bubble-brained chit with no common sense.”  He shook his
head.  “I was wrong.  Wrong about her, wrong about everything.”  He stood up
from his chair and paced around the library.  “Mostly I was wrong about
myself.  I should not try to cling to my old life when a new one has been given
to me.”

“Well, I think
it’s important to remember your old life fondly,” Eneria mused, standing up to
join him.  “My mother cut herself off her life.  Perhaps the memories were too
painful.”  She took his hands in hers and looked directly at him.  “I will go
back with you to Cornwall, but I cannot promise that I can stay forever.  You
need to find a human wife, someone to bear you children, to share in your new
life with you.”  She squeezed his hands.  “I have to try to find my own way as
well.”

“I don’t want
anyone else,” he whispered, sliding his hands up her arms.  “I don’t care if we
can never have children.  What does everything on this Earth mean, if we are
but one of hundreds of worlds?”  He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

Suddenly the
events of the night were too much for her.  Eneria, unable to cry once more,
sagged into his arms.

“Hold me,” she
said softly, drawing on his strength, burying her face into his great coat. She
was tired, so tired.  But even as she did so, she felt a stirring in her pulse,
a tickling sensation of desire. 

She lifted her
head and called out to the air, “Aijo, please leave us.”

The fairy lazily
stirred from her lampshade.  James started; he must have forgotten about her.

“Why should I?”
Aijo said with a yawn.  “I need to watch over you in case the Konkastians
attack.”

“You need to leave
because if you don’t, I’m going to lock you in the jar and give you to Marilyn
myself,” Eneria said sternly.  Her guardian and companion dimmed for a moment
before resigning herself to the fact that she was going to lose this battle.

“The queen is
going to have my head,” Aijo complained, but she fluttered away, slipping
through the tiny crack in the closed library door.

Only when they
were truly alone did she give in to what she was feeling.  She reached up and
captured his mouth in a passionate kiss, humming with pleasure as he returned
it with equal ardor.

After several
breathless moments, he broke free.

“I imagine the
library table was rather uncomfortable,” he said against her temple. “The next
time I make love to you, I want it to be in a bed.”

“We can probably
sneak upstairs,” Eneria said mischievously.  “And are you not lord and master
of this house?  You should be able to do anything you want.”

He blinked for a
few moments, and then grinned as he realized she was right.

“The servants
will talk no matter what,” he said, as he tugged her toward the closed door. 
“But promise me this.  If the Konkastians leave and your family does not come,
then stay with me.  Marry me, Eneria d’Munt.  I will strive to make up for your
loss for the rest of my life.”

Her heart
fluttered in her chest.  With those two caveats, she did not hesitate.  She
would never find another man as smart as herself!

“Yes,” she said
simply.

They sneaked
upstairs like two naughty children.  The house had quieted down for the night;
most of the cleaning up would take place on the morrow.  In the meantime, even
the servants were missing.  James had not seen hide nor hair of his valet all
evening, and he was grateful for the privacy.

Once the door
was safely locked, he immediately began to kiss her again, devouring her.  He
made short work of that pretty dark green dress and unbound her hair, missing
the iridescent traces of blue from her natural color.  Back in Cornwall, she
could keep it natural, and if anyone said anything, then they’d just have to
believe it was a family trait from Greece.

The silky
strands were rumpled from being bound all night.  Her hair was naturally
straight, but it became filled with body when it was up for hours.

“James,” she
moaned as he leaned forward to suckle one perfect globe of her breasts.

“You have,” he
said in between mouthfuls, “the most sinful body I have ever laid eyes on.”