To Catch a Prince Read online

  “Why, I hit all four birds, of course.”

  “Did you eat them?”

  He laughed like that was the best joke of all. “I left them there. The cook had already chosen to make veal that night. This autumn I’m going stalking again. I usually kill at least twelve stags a season. I collect antlers. Maybe you’d like to join me?”

  Helene shook her head. Nothing made her angrier than the senseless killing of animals. She didn’t even wear leather! Unless it was thrift.

  “Well, then,” he yawned, “I guess we’d better get down to business. There’s a private room upstairs from the ballroom. I reserve it each year. Why don’t you take my key and go ahead? You’ll find the stairs by the ladies bathroom. It’s totally private.”

  He dangled a key on a satin ribbon in front of Helene’s face. “Don’t worry, little girl. Just go upstairs, and make yourself comfortable. There’s even a nightgown you can slip into. And a bed, of course. I’ll come up in ten minutes. I take these precautions so no one sees us together. You do understand. I have to defend my reputation. I’m allowed my flings, but they must be discreet. And you do have a rather, uh, unusual look.”

  Helene stared hard at a barge passing on the river. So it had happened. She’d been propositioned by a prince. This wasn’t how she’d imagined it. She had never imagined a duck-hunting, deerkilling, self-centered, unadventurous prince. She thought of Laszlo and the way they danced together. The way they fit together. How long had she been gone? He might start to worry.

  “Oh, my god,” she said, rushing back through the French doors without even saying good-bye to her prince.

  She wasn’t prepared for what she found back at their table. Alexis, her stepsister, the one who had ditched the dance for Nigel’s party, was making out with Simon right in front of everyone. Across from them, Laszlo had taken all of their place cards and was ripping them into a million pieces. He’d torn his own and Simon’s and was now working furiously on ripping up the tiny rectangles of handmade paper that said, in delicate calligraphy, Helene Masterson.

  She knew she was responsible for his terrible mood, and she wanted more than anything to rid him of it.

  “Hey,” she said, touching his shoulder, “I just got stuck talking to the most boring, pompous jerk in the world. And I was wondering …” She paused.

  He looked up at her with the cutest puppy eyes. “Yes?”

  Helene said, “How you do? You being well? Yes? Yes. Good. Excuse, but I help needed.”

  A flicker of a smile passed over Laszlo’s face. “Well, I’d love to offer my assistance, if you’d just tell me how. What kind of help do you need, miss?”

  “Help to making the dance,” Helene said.

  When the music ended, Helene and Laszlo were the last people on the dance floor. Helene tingled with excitement. There was something different about their dancing tonight. It wasn’t just flirtatious. It was anticipatory. When he rested his fingers on her hip, it was like a foreshadowing of what would happen later. And when they held hands as they walked to the coat check, it was electric. It was more exciting, more thrilling, than any time she’d made out with Jeremy.

  And to think, she told herself, that I almost messed the whole thing up. To think I would like anyone over him, even a prince. But then it struck her: How had it happened? Why did Laszlo forgive her abominable behavior on the boat in Malta? Why did he ask her out again?

  She asked him these questions, and he blushed. “Well, I found out that you liked me. That you liked me better than you liked the stupid bet with your sister. Even better than William.”

  “But how did you figure it out? Was it something I said?”

  A strange expression crossed Laszlo’s face, like he’d just tasted some new fruit and he couldn’t decide if he liked it or not. “Actually, this was something I wanted to ask you about. Some strange female rang me. She had all this insight about you. I didn’t bother to figure out who she was. I just thought she was my fairy godmother or something. Her name was Nichola.”

  “Nichola?” Helene sputtered. “My thirteen-year-old cousin?”

  “Are you sure? She sounded much older. Wiser.”

  “Well,” Helene said, kissing Laszlo’s cheek, “I guess she is our fairy godmother.”

  Simon had wrapped his coat around Alexis and was unsuccessfully trying to hail a cab amid the throng of young socialites trying to hail cabs. Alexis looked at the guys walking around proud as peacocks in their tuxes and thought about the line of boys angling to talk to her at Nigel’s party. My father is the ambassador from Luxembourg…. My father is CEO of Protracted Investments…. I’m studying to be a lawyer like my dad. Why on earth did they all think she cared what their fathers did? What a boring, meaningless way for a guy to impress a girl. She had no idea what Simon’s father did. Because it didn’t matter.

  “Hey, Simon,” Alexis called.

  He came over to her. “We’re never going to get a cab. I think I’ll be carrying you home, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I was just thinking. You never told me what your father does for a living. I mean … I promise I don’t care. I’m just curious.”

  Simon looked stricken. Alexis’s heart quickened. Was his father a felon? A mass murderer? A white-collar criminal? A …

  “Milliner,” Simon said. “He’s a milliner. A hatmaker. But not just any hatmaker. No, he’s the royal milliner.”

  He shrugged as if this were the worst profession in the world. “He made all of the Queen Mum’s getups. In fact, if you see anything on the head of the royal family, he put it there.”

  Alexis’s eyes grew to the size of the Mediterranean. “You mean he made the hats worn by April, May, and June?”

  Simon nodded. This was the moment he’d been dreading. He’d lost Alexis.

  “You mean he makes the hats of—”

  “Yes! yes!” Simon shouted angrily. “I could probably convince him to introduce you to William. In fact, you’ll charm him so much that he’ll take you to William’s house for tea tomorrow. Are you happy now?”

  Alexis shook her head. “I was only wondering if it would be at all possible … I know it’s an imposition, and really expensive, but—”

  “Yes, you can meet William. Yes. Yes. Yes.” Simon started walking away. “But leave me alone.”

  Alexis caught up to him. “No, listen to me. All I want is a hat. A hat like the Spring sisters wore. Something unique.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I’m so sick of cookie-cutter fashion. And your father’s one of the most creative designers I’ve ever seen. I’d love to return to America in one of his hats. Scarsdale High won’t know what hit it!”

  While Simon and Laszlo were still trying to hail a cab, Helene pulled Alexis aside.

  “You’ll never believe who I met.”

  “Never mind that,” Alexis said. “Guess who was at Nigel’s party?”

  “William!” both girls exclaimed at the same time.

  For a moment the two sisters just stared at each other with blank looks on their faces. Then, as if on cue, they both burst into laughter and fell into each other’s arms.

  “Your carriage has arrived.”

  Helene and Alexis looked up to see Laszlo waving at them. Holding hands, the two sisters ran to the cab.

  “Oh, Lexy, it was so stupid,” Helene said as they ran. “He was so boring, and all he wanted to do was—”

  “I know,” Alexis replied. “What did we ever see in him?”

  It was a tight squeeze. Alexis on Simon’s lap, and Helene with one leg across Laszlo. But no one minded. Helene had both her arms around Laszlo’s neck and was making up for a summer of longing. Alexis and Simon were about to accomplish the longest single kiss in history.

  The cabbie drove extra slowly. He knew that these kids were in no hurry to get anywhere. He fiddled with the radio dial, hoping to find a station he could stand and, that way, give them a little more privacy. Cricket scores? Too boring. Rap music? It g
ave him a headache. Ah, there it was: the BBC news. Nothing better. He turned up the volume.

  “And in local news, William of Windsor has a bit of strep throat and has cancelled his visit to London for the weekend, …” Alexis and Helene turned away from their boys and locked eyes. Alexis’s face went slack as the announcer continued, “… And postponed all royal duties. William remains in Holyroodhouse, the royal residence near Edinburgh, where he is vacationing with his father, brother, and grandmother. The time is one-twenty in the morning. The temperature is …”

  “Who cares?” Helene mouthed.

  “Not me,” Alexis mouthed back. They each knew what the other was thinking: This was the Plan B they hadn’t planned for. And it was better than anything they could have come up with on their own. Plus they were best friends again. And as always, they were sisters.

  “I can’t believe you’re only here for less than a week,” said Simon.

  “Well, I expect to see you every day until then,” Alexis purred.

  “And then?” Laszlo asked.

  “And then we’ll meet up again,” Helene grinned. “Next summer. In France?”