An Imperfect Princess (13 page)

A light wine was
also served with the meal, and Eneria drank more of it than she should have. 
Dessert was a wonderful confection of pie and cream, and while Clarissa passed,
Marilyn ate the whole plate with unabashed enthusiasm.  Enny did the same.  She’d
never worried much about her figure before; everyone took metabolism pills or
had their genetics tweaked to avoid weight gain.  Perhaps it was something to
think more carefully about if she was going to be here for a while.

She had hoped to
go back to the lab and work some more, but she was firmly denied by the
butler.  The lab was the lord’s private domain, and she was welcome there only
as his guest.  James himself had retired to his study to work on papers, and if
she was going to go downstairs, she would need his accompaniment.

She knocked
again on his study door, feeling as though years had passed from this
afternoon.

“You may enter.”

She tiptoed in,
admiring his unruly hair, the crisp coat he wore, and the way his cravat
pressed against his neck.  Men’s fashion on this world was quite pleasing to
the eye, she decided.  And he was
definitely
pleasing to her eyes.

She stood before
him, almost at a loss for words.  Aijo had retired to her cage in the room they
were using.  She was still recovering from staying awake almost two days
straight.

“I wanted to
thank you again for all your help this afternoon,” she said finally, twisting
her fingers together.  She remembered the way his touch had burned her before
and wanted to touch him again, just to see if it was going to happen once more.

James was all
seriousness.  “You are welcome.  But we have a business agreement.  I will help
you build your amplifier and repair your ship until you are able to leave.”

She winced at
his choice of words.  He wanted to be rid of her and her complications.  She
was a half mad alien, after all.

“However, I
would appreciate it if we kept the arrangement to ourselves, as well as your
personal information.”  He displayed an emotion for the first time that
evening, and set his elbow on the desk and rested his chin in his palm, looking
directly at her with those bottomless black eyes.  “I have informed the staff
you are my guest and patient.  Clarissa and Marilyn still believe you to be a
magical princess or some similar nonsense. Let them believe that.”  He sighed. 
“I almost wish you
were
a magical fairy princess. It would make
everything you have shown me today a lot easier to handle. You could magic away
my headache to start.”

“Magic?” She frowned
at the word.  She placed her palms on his desk and leaned forward.  “I told you
there is no such thing as magic.  You said so yourself.  Why complicate things
with make believe?  You cannot tell me you believe in magic on this planet!”

“Some places
do,” he said calmly, ignoring her ire.  “The girls are young and fanciful and
still prone to the dreams of the young.  I see that no harm can come from
humoring them for now, especially if it keeps your identity safe.”

Chastised, she
removed her hands and backed down.  “Of course, you are right.  Such a thing is
also common where I come from...”  Suddenly she had an urge to cry.  She wanted
to go home.  She wanted to be off this primitive planet with its strange
languages and stranger etiquette rules.

She even, for a
fleeting moment, wanted her mother, even if it meant becoming a technophobe and
going into hiding in a monastery.  And
that
was something that she had
firmly avoided feeling for the last two years.  Her mother, who loved her
distantly at best, and who had not shed one tear for their lost life on
Lathlor.  She had hated her mother, who had worn black in mourning for three
months, as was the custom, then slipped back into her cloistered life on
Montares without voicing a complaint.  She had gone from a queen to a beggar
and she acted as if nothing had changed except her address.

That was why she
didn’t want to move to Montares.  She couldn’t just pretend that the planet of
Lathlor wasn’t occupied.  She had to stop the Konkastians, somehow.  Perihelion
would be the key to defeating them.  Eventually.

She pursed her
lips to hide the quivering.  She would
not
cry.  She and Vaz had made a
pact together, after that terrible day on Lathlor.  No more tears would be shed
until they were tears of joy for their reunion on a freed world.

The alcohol from
dinner had also made her dizzy, and she listed off to one side suddenly.

“Stupid, stupid
of me.  You’re still concussed and here I have gone and made you upset.” James
jumped up from his chair to brace her against the broad expanse of his chest. 
“Your Highness,
you
are going back upstairs to bed.”

“I’m fine,” she
insisted, squirming in his arms, trying to recover from the dizzy spell. 

The sparks from
earlier in the day reasserted themselves suddenly, and Eneria caught her
breath.  This was the first time she’d seen him so close.  He was taller than
her, but not by as much as she had believed before.  His skin was paler than
hers by a few shades, although she suspected his pigment was in response to
sunlight and not purely genetic like her own.  Dark stubble was visible on his
jaw line.  And that wonderful, wild dark hair that brushed just so over his
forehead begged to be tugged.

The air crackled
with tension.  She suddenly noticed the ticking of a clock and felt a deep,
deep pulling inside.  She was most certainly not the only one feeling like this.

“You had best go
upstairs alone,” he said, his voice cracking.  It seemed he was indeed as
affected as she.

“Yes, my lord,”
she whispered, but made no move to leave.  Aijo was upstairs and would probably
have choice words to say about the present situation were she aware of it, but
she was not here to stop them.

She leaned
closer to him, inviting him, daring him. 

He claimed her
mouth tentatively, hesitantly.  She had never kissed anyone before–Vaz had been
the one with the boyfriend when they were younger–but she was pleased to learn that
the sensation was with this humanoid was wonderful. 

The kiss was
firm, and she was shocked when his tongue dipped past her lips to trace her
teeth.  She flowered beneath his kiss, letting him explore her.  But she didn’t
quite know how to respond back in kind, and she felt ignorant and passive, as
if she should be helping him out somehow.

He broke away
suddenly, but did not release her arms.  “If I had any doubts about your having
a sheltered childhood, they would have been dispelled right then.  You’ve never
been kissed before, have you?”

She shook her head,
wondering if she had done something wrong.  His eyes were full of regrets.

“Go,” he said,
and released her.  “And for both our sakes, perhaps you should not come back
here alone again.”

James Holding,
the 8th Earl of Courtland, was annoyed at the world.

This time, he
had a damn good reason for it.

Normally he
would be able to will himself to sleep and to wake up at times of his own
choosing.  But last night, sleep had eluded him, and as he stared at the canopy
of the grand four poster bed in the master’s suite of his ancestral home, he
wished he’d thought to pour himself another dozen glasses of port.

Anything,
anything at all to get the taste of her off his lips.

What on Earth
had possessed him to kiss her?  Based on her story, she was an innocent; based
on his experience, he had no reason to doubt her.  He had always been in
control of his faculties.  He had kept his emotions checked, guarded.  He had
planned on finding a good society wife for himself, who would accept and love
Marilyn and bear him heirs.  Eventually.  Years down the road.

He had no time
or patience for actually
liking
a woman right now.  Especially not a
batty, willful princess from another world who talked to fairies and tasted
like sunshine in a summer garden.

His valet,
Martin, poked his head in the door of the bedchamber.

“My lord, it is
well past your normal hour for waking.  If you do not rise soon you will miss
breakfast.”

He was half
tempted to spit out an oath and pull the pillow over his head like a petulant
child, but Martin had done nothing but his duty in this instance.  James hadn’t
overslept since his first year at Cambridge.

“All right, I’ll
be up in moment.”

He rolled out of
bed and shrugged on his robe, trying desperately to clear his thoughts of what
her unusual hair would look like tousled against his pillow.

Eneria, on the
other hand, had slept like a log.  It took Aijo creating a tiny, artificial
thunderclap next to her eardrum to rouse her.

“Wake up!” Aijo
shouted as Enny finally began to stir.

“Don’t want to. 
Nice dream,” she murmured, hugging her pillow with a catlike smile.  She had
always had trouble waking up after a good dream as a child.

“Dreams are
luxuries for people not stranded on strange planets,” the fairy replied, kicking
at her temple.  Her glittery foot went right through the flesh, but the point
was made.

Eneria blinked a
few times and stared at the window, where the morning light streamed in.  It
had
been a nice dream, with her new benefactor James and a thrilling, high speed chase
through an asteroid field, followed by... well, she hadn’t gotten quite that
far yet, which is why she hadn’t wanted to wake up.

On that thought,
she sat bolt upright in bed.  What was she thinking?  He was a
primitive
,
for crying out loud, and she’d be leaving as soon as she had the power for a
charge for her engine... or got rescued.  The more she thought about it, the
more it made sense to simply build an amplifier for her laptop’s automatic
connection to the larger galactic network.  It was able to detect the network,
but not fully hook into it, probably because the faster-than-light network
through the wormhole she had come through was actually over a thousand light
years away.  Most of the thirty or so inhabited stars in the little cluster
that comprised the Local Cluster’s network were within ten light years of one
another.  The astronomical and navigation programs on her ship told her she’d
gone deeper into spiral arm of the galaxy.         

The lack of
Pharinae was also disturbing.  It was believed that they inhabited the whole
galaxy, and their presence was often indicated by a humanoid shape to the
locals.  Well, the shape of the locals was spot on, but there were no Pharinae
coming forth to communicate with Aijo.  She knew her servant was probably even
lonelier than she was on this alien world, since she at least had the luxury of
being the same type of matter as the locals.

Her period of
convalescence was apparently over, as Mitsy did not bring breakfast to her, but
only popped in to help her get dressed in the same gown as yesterday, which had
not magically transformed into a proper fit overnight.

Some magical
princess I am, she thought with a mental sigh.  I can’t even get a dress to fit
right.

“The modiste is
coming today, all the way from London.  His lordship said you might want to
inquire about having yourself a modest wardrobe commissioned as well.”  Mitsy
sighed as she viewed a ripped seam and took out a needle and thread.  “It’s a
good idea, you’re quite a bit bustier than I am, and I don’t want any more of
my dresses ripped up like this.”

Eneria
remembered her bridesmaid gown that she had retrieved from the ship.   She
stilled Mitsy before she could start sewing and walked over to the wardrobe and
retrieved the dress.  “I can at least wear this today.”  She unfolded the
sapphire blue taffeta and held it up against her body to show the maid.  “It’s
certainly not the fashionable style, but it fits.”

“Oh, that gown
is absolutely stunning,” Mitsy disagreed.  “Look, it has the dropped shoulders
and waistline we were talking about yesterday afternoon. You mentioned this
dress then, didn’t you?  But it’s so fancy, it’s not even really appropriate
for the morning.  But it’ll do for today.”

Pleased, Eneria
nodded.  The maid slipped it over her head and made a few tugs, but it still
fit perfectly.

“Glad to know I
haven’t gained any weight in two years,” she said critically.  “Or lost any.”

“I can actually
believe you’re a princess wearing a gown like that,” Mitsy said with a wistful
sigh.  “What’s the material?”

“I don’t know
the word in English.”  Enny twirled, and the polyester taffeta ruffles
flounced.  She doubted the artificial material had even been invented here yet.
“But it’s similar to silk, only stiffer.”

“Huh.  I don’t
know what it is either.  But it’s very pretty.”

Mitsy left then
to go to her mistress Clarissa, who would also need assistance dressing, and
would probably spend an hour or more preparing her toilette.  Eneria suspected
she wouldn’t even make an appearance at breakfast. She was so excited over
having a full, fashionable season wardrobe commissioned today.

Eneria sensed
the practicality of asking for her clothing at the same time, but wondered what
she could possibly pay them with... Of course!  James had said her gems were
incredibly valuable for jewelry here, more so than for their chemical
composition.  She would ask him where she could sell some of them for local
currency.

As she had
thought, Clarissa had sent her regrets to breakfast, leaving Eneria, James, and
Marilyn in an awkward three-way silence.  Marilyn was content to pick at her
food with Aijo sitting in her hair, as she had been doing to Eneria the day
before.  Eneria and James were determined to not mention what had happened in
his study last night.

But she did need
to have an answer to her question.

“My lord,” she
said, her voice echoing in the silence.  “I understand that the modiste will be
here a while and since I am probably going to be here some time as well, it
would serve me better to have more than one gown that... fits properly.  I
would like to purchase some clothing as well, but I have no local money...
where could I change out some of my jewels for coin?”

“The closest
town is St Ives, but they won’t have a banker or a jeweler capable of handling
stones of that quality.  For that, you’ll need to come to London with us.”  He
drummed his fingers and glanced at her now modestly covered bosom in the blue
dress.  “However,
if
you are to come to London with us–which may be the
best under your circumstances–we’ll need to have you appropriately clad
anyway.”  He nodded, as if making a mental decision for himself.  “I shall
advance you the money needed for the wardrobe and you can pay me back once we
arrive.”

“I’m getting new
clothes too,” Marilyn piped up, trying to follow her governess’s advice for
maintaining conversation.

“But not a
season wardrobe,” Aijo said to Marilyn, surprising Eneria.  She and the child
seemed to be getting along oddly well together.  Perhaps the girl was the
closest thing she had to a peer on this world since they were both surrounded
by people larger than themselves.

“But not a
season wardrobe. Not yet, anyway.”  She took one last stab at her fried egg, and
then looked at James.  “May I be excused?  I want to go play with Aijo before
my studies.”

Eneria looked at
the earl, her expression frozen.  With the child gone, they would have to
talk.

James nodded
silently anyway, and Marilyn skipped away from the breakfast table, chattering
to Aijo.

“The dress is
lovely on you,” he said after she was out of earshot.  “But it is not the first
cut of fashion.”

“It never was,
here.”  Mundane subject, she thought, helping herself to another piece of
bread, avoiding the raspberry jam, which tasted far too metallic to her alien
tongue.  She slathered it with butter instead.  “Actually, I don’t think it was
on Lathlor, either.  My mother picked it out.  I don’t like the panniers,
personally.  I have enough hip on my own.”

He leaned
forward, elbows on the table and all, a curious expression on his face.

“Tell me about
your family.  I think some of the tale was lost in translation yesterday.”

Eneria smiled at
him craftily.  “Only if you repay in kind.”  She nibbled delicately on the
corner of her roll.  “My mother was married to my father in a political match. 
It was a brilliant match for her; both her and her twin sister were orphans,
and even one of them marrying into the Triumvirate would have ensured a safe,
prosperous life for them.”  She warmed to the tale; it was not something she’d
ever really had to explain to anyone before.  “However, something happened for
the first time in our world’s history, at least since the united world
Triumvirate was formed over five hundred years ago.  My aunt also married into
a separate branch of the Triumvirate, so suddenly two of the ruling families
were very closely related.  Most of us shared common ancestors from other noble
families, and the other ruling Houses always interbred, but we were an uncommon
exception.  My mother actually was closer to my aunt and my cousin than she was
to us.”  She cast her eyes downward, unhappier memories seeping in.  “My father
was a good, kind man, but he never loved my mother.  She met his conditions – she
is a brilliant artist and painted him the most beautiful work of art he had
ever seen – but he didn’t love her.  She was a fraternal twin and a bit plainer
than her sister.”  Eneria took a deep breath.  “I know not of all of your
customs, but I gather that marital fidelity is practiced to some extent.  It is
officially on our world as well, and matches for love are preferred among the
commoners.  My father, being a royal, thought nothing of ignoring that.” 

James nodded
sympathetically. “Most men in power are that way.  But this is perhaps not a
suitable conversation for the dining room.”

“It isn’t for us
either.” Eneria shook her head.  “My father is dead now, and I should not speak
ill of the dead, but it caused a strained relationship between him, his wife,
and his children.  He ignored us, she ignored us, and my brother and I had nothing
but our tutors and staff.”  She took a deep, fortifying breath.  No crying. 
“Despite that, I should not complain.  I wanted for nothing, and my brother and
I did often play with our cousin Vaz.  My aunt also was killed in the coup,
which hit Vaz harder than losing her father.  She was beloved by both of her
parents.”

“As well as
beloved by you.”

“As well as
me.”  Eneria took a gulp of water, trying to hold back the painful memories. 
An uncaring father was the least of her problems.  She changed the subject. 
“And so, my lord, how was your childhood?”

He sat up
straighter and looked off into the distance, remembering.  “Much like your Vaz,
I was beloved by my parents.  My brother and I were their everything.  That is
probably why he traveled with them, to India.”  His expression darkened. 
“Unlike your tragedy, mine ends with a question mark.  Their ship sank, as far
as we know, during terrible gales off the Maritious islands.  I inherited my
title, and Clarissa and Marilyn, far too early.”  He stared at his napkin and
she gathered that he was rarely this candid with anyone.  “I was never supposed
to be the Earl of Courtland.  I was going to be a scientist, a naturalist, an
explorer.  So I had to grow up fast, when I learned of their deaths.  I never asked
for this kind of responsibility, but I suppose it was bound to find me sooner
or later.”

They continued
comparing notes of childhood.  They were both the youngest children, with older
brothers who were supposed to be the proper heirs.  They both tried desperately
to hold onto their hobbies, even after their old lives were let go.

And so,
breakfast ended without either of them mentioning the kiss from the night
before.  Perhaps it was for the best.  Eneria wasn’t quite sure what she
planned on doing with her feelings yet.

It’s not as if
she were free to pursue a relationship, she thought sadly.

She tucked away
a muffin in a napkin and took it upstairs to Clarissa, who was tearing through
her existing wardrobe, nervous.  The girl refused the muffin at first.

“I can’t eat a
thing, I shall vomit,” she proclaimed, but her quivering nose belied her
statement.

“You should eat,
it will calm your nerves.  Your blood won’t have enough energy otherwise.” 
Once again, she lacked a precise term. She had all the words at her disposal
except the ones for concepts that didn’t exist in this world.  Aijo had found a
dictionary, and Eneria had turned the pages for her.  The fairy had already
learned to read in the local language, and she had stuffed all the extra
vocabulary into Eneria’s mind.