Once Upon A Tiara: Once Upon A Tiara / Henry Ever After

“If there’s anything you need,” he offered, before stepping away to search for Lili.

“There may be.” The police chief indicated his prisoner. His grip hadn’t loosened a notch. “I’d like a room to stash my suspect in.”

She smiled poisonously. “Why don’t you just handcuff me in the town square and let the townsfolk pelt me with rotten fruit?”

Simon snorted with laughter.

Even Henry had to smile. “I’m saving that for after the trial.”

“How nice to know I won’t be summarily executed without one.”

There it was again. Simon took another look at her. That thing—what was it? Peppery pride, scrappiness, inborn spirit?

“I’ll set you up with a room,” he said to Henry, more than eager to get back to the princess, his own sparring partner.

“Preferably one that’s secure, private and—” Henry scowled at his prisoner “—far away from the jewels.”

Simon went to Lili, which wasn’t easy because she was buttressed by her nanny and bodyguard. “How are you?” His glance skipped over Grundy and Wilhelm. “Everything okay here?”

Lili’s eyes sparkled. “What a to-do! I thought small towns were supposed to be boring.”

“Not this weekend.”

“We must move the princess away from the riffraff,” Mrs. Grundy said. A camera flash made her lips pucker. “Even more importantly, away from the photographers and reporters.”

Simon realized that a small number of media were circling like sharks, grabbing hold of the incident for what would no doubt be sensationalized stories and photos. The museum board had hoped for enough publicity to put their new facility on the map. Looked like they had it in spades.

“We can take her back to my office,” he offered.

“I am here,” Lili protested. “Don’t talk over my head as if I’m a child.”

Simon looked down at her. “Sorry.”

Her smile flickered from polite to genuine. “Apology accepted.”

“Form a wedge,” Wilhelm instructed. “We must move quickly.” Mrs. Grundy opened her satchel and removed a folding umbrella. With a snap, she opened it to full length, leaving the spokes and fabric furled. She dug the sharp tip into the ground, squared her shoulders and threaded an arm through the princess’s.

Simon took the other elbow. “Off we go, then,” he said cheerily. He was quite happy to be leaving the Tower behind, subject to interrogation, sans princess.

“No talking. No stopping.” Wilhelm took the lead position, parting the crowd like the prow of a ship. “No deterrence.”

“Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead,” Simon whispered to Lili as they quickly moved out from beneath the tent and across the tarmac road.

She tittered. “Grunberg doesn’t have a Navy. We’re landlocked.” The reporters closed in on them, but were no match for Lili’s bodyguard. Mrs. Grundy’s bulk effectively blocked the photographers from getting good angles on the princess. When they pressed too close, she jabbed at them with the umbrella. The quartet swept up the steps and into the museum.

Henry and the woman, who was apparently his prime suspect, arrived on their heels. After assuring the security guards that all was under control, Simon made introductions. “Princess Lili, this is Henry Russell, the main man in Blue Cloud’s police department. He’s in charge.”

“Pleased to meet you, Chief Russell.” Lili offered him her hand. “Even if it is under trying circumstances. Was there honestly a pickpocket loose among the guests?”

“It looks like it. We have two missing wallets and one ransacked purse. Possibly a stolen necklace. My officers will be searching the grounds thoroughly.”

Lili’s eyes widened. “Are the royal jewels safe?”

Henry and Simon exchanged a glance before the chief responded in an official tone. “I apologize, Your Highness, but I can’t give a one-hundred percent guarantee. In my estimation, today’s criminals are no more than petty thieves, out to take advantage of the holiday crowds. Only a sophisticated burglar could successfully lift the jewels.” He looked at Simon, who nodded in agreement. Henry relaxed—slightly. “Nothing for you to worry about, Princess.”

The chief’s suspect glowered at him from beneath a sheaf of dark, silky hair. A leaf clung to the disheveled tresses. Henry picked it off.

Tilting her head, Lili regarded the woman with interest. They were as opposite as Simon had assumed—one fair, the other dark; one well-dressed, polite and poised, the other brazen and belligerent in her flashy ornaments and cheap silks. And yet…there was that common bond. The moments of regal hauteur, ameliorated by an obvious zest for life.

Lili held out her hand. “Hello. I’m Princess Lili of Grunberg.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” The captive’s top lip lifted into the slightest of sneers as she swept her gaze up and down the blond princess. She clasped the royal hand, every inch the queen herself, despite her outer dishevelment. “I am Jana Vargas.”

Lili gasped. “Vargas?”

A nod.

“How peculiar, considering that the Brunner bridal tiara is set with the Vargas diamond! Have you ever been to Grunberg? Could you be related to someone who owned the diamond previous to my family?”

“No, I’ve never been to Grunberg. But some of my people were there…a long time ago.”

“Would I know of them?” the princess asked.

Jana dismissed the possibility with a small, ironic smile. “Not very likely. Romany folk don’t get invited to the castle for formal dress balls.”

Henry and Simon exchanged a second look. A confused one, for Simon’s part. Romany? Was Jana Vargas a true Gypsy, or simply playing the part for her own devices?

“Romany,” breathed Mrs. Grundy, under her breath. Her keen eyes clouded. For the first time, Simon saw her less than sure of herself. Perhaps even taken aback.

Lili must have noticed, too. “Amelia?” she asked. “Do you know how the Vargas diamond came by its name?” She looked at the others. “There’s quite a legend associated with the tiara, but I don’t recall why it’s called the Vargas diamond.”

Grundy’s expression closed. “I couldn’t say.”

“I could,” Jana Vargas said. She handed Lili the colored paper that had been crumpled in her left fist. “If you care to learn the truth…”

Lili glanced at the wrinkled flyer. Her face lighted. “A Gypsy carnival? Ooh, with fortune-telling!”

Grundy went pale.

Wilhelm put out a meaty hand, inserting it between the two young women. “Princess, I must insist.”

Grundy recovered. She moved deliberately in front of Jana, nudging the princess along after she’d snatched away the flyer. It fluttered to the floor. “Shall we go upstairs to regroup?” she said, a steely non-question. “Rodger, you may call for the car. We’ve had quite a day. It’s time we retired to our hotel. We shall send regrets to Madam Mayor.”

“Just when events were getting interesting,” Lili protested, although she allowed herself to be shepherded up the stairs.

“You may use the museum snack shop,” Simon told Henry as they followed, noticing that the chief had retrieved the paper and was examining it closely. “It’s empty and quiet. Three doors, but we’re keeping everything locked up tight, so they’re all inaccessible. Here’s the key.” He slipped a key from the ring he carried in his pocket. The same master key opened several doors in the working areas of the museum: storage, kitchen, supplies, lavatories. No state secrets there.

“I’ll get this back to you as soon as we’ve finished. I want to stash Ms. Vargas, here—” Henry still hadn’t let go of the woman’s arm “—while I oversee procedures outdoors.”