The Princess (Montgomery/Taggert 10) - Page 58

“A royal princess is above revenge,” she said, her nose in the air.

“There’s the difference between you and me. I’d do something.”

They were silent the rest of the way to the theater. The movie was Springtime in the Rockies and one of the players was an outrageously dressed woman named Carmen Miranda. To Aria, she was a caricature of what Americans seemed to think all foreigners were like. Dolly kept laughing at the woman’s eye rolling and mispronunciations but Aria did not find the performance amusing.

That’s what Jarl thinks the people of my country are like, she thought. He’s not sure but what I won’t show up at his American ball with a dozen bananas on top of my head. He worries that I’ll embarrass his pedigreed mother when the truth is my ladies-in-waiting have more exalted family trees than she does. He worries about my conduct while he publicly consorts with a redheaded harlot—a fake redhead, at that.

Dolly’s words—What are you going to do to get him back?—echoed in her head.

Maybe she was becoming an American, maybe the short hair and the flowered cotton dresses were making her an American, because she didn’t feel like ignoring Jarl’s (Only my mother calls me Jarl, she thought with disgust; one’s initials were what was embroidered on one’s linens) infidelity.

She looked up at the movie. Carmen Miranda was wearing a purple and white frothy concoction now.

Aria began to fantasize about meeting her illustrious mother-in-law with her belly bare, a slit up her skirt, and an eighteen-inch headdress weaving about on her head.

“Something that sparkles,” she whispered.

“What’s that?” Dolly asked.

“Has this woman recorded any of her songs?”

“Carmen Miranda? Sure. She has lots of records out.”

Aria smiled and began studying the woman’s movements. She was so exaggerated that she would be easy to imitate.

After the movie Dolly saw by Aria’s eyes that she was happier than she had been. “Cheer you up?”

“I am going to be just what my husband thinks I am. I am going to the Commander’s Ball dressed as Carmen Miranda. I am going to meet Lieutenant Montgomery’s mother and

pinch her on the cheek and say, ‘Chica, Chica.’ ”

“I…I don’t think you should do that. I mean, the Commander’s Ball is the biggest event of the year and it’s very formal—only the top brass. Bill and I aren’t invited. J.T. is because his mother’s coming. And, Aria, you have to be nice to your mother-in-law. I think it’s a law somewhere. She can treat you like dirt but you’re always supposed to be nice to her. Believe me, an angry mother-in-law can make your life hell.”

“More hell than it is now? I don’t have a country; my husband spends his time with another woman and treats me as if I am nothing. He said I was cold and inhuman. I shall show him that I am not.”

“J.T. said that? You definitely should get him back but there has to be a better way. I’d rather face a firing squad than anger my mother-in-law.”

“Who can we get to make the dress? I think I’ll have it made in red and white and we shall use the very cheapest fabrics. What is the sparkling powder?”

“Glitter. Aria, really, I don’t think the Commander’s Ball is the place—”

Aria stopped walking. “If you help me with this, when I get back to my country, you can come for a month-long visit and I will let you try on every crown I own. There’s twenty-some of them.”

Dolly swallowed, her eyes wide. “We could put red Christmas balls in your hair and Bonnie’s landlady has the biggest, ugliest pair of seashell earrings from Cuba that you’ve ever seen. They’re red and white polka dot.”

“Perfect,” Aria said, smiling. “Now let’s go buy some records. I plan to sing while I dance. I shall get Jarl Tynan Montgomery’s attention all right.”

“I hope you can handle it. His mother is going to hate you.” Dolly brightened. “But men do like women with spunk. They don’t like cowards. You know, this might work.”

“He’ll look at me and not that redhead.”

“I can guarantee that. It’s just how he’s going to look at you that worries me.”

Chapter Twelve

WE made it,” Dolly said, leaning against the rest-room door. “Did J.T. believe your reason about why you couldn’t attend the ball?”

“I gave him something to think about. I said I was suffering from morning sickness.”

Tags: Jude Deveraux Montgomery/Taggert Historical
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