Princess In Denim (2 page)

Emma, Moira's private secretary, perched herself on a nearby bale of hay. She was a tall, slender woman, smartly dressed in a chambray suit that earned its price tag by looking deceptively casual. "If you miss it so much, we can go home," she said softly.

Moira shot to her feet. "But I don't!" She paced the dirt-packed aisle. "I never have. Chloe, remember when we used to trade places with each other?"

Chloe darted a glance at Emma. Sure, it was a little late now to worry about getting caught, but they'd never told anyone. Or at least
she
hadn't.

"Oh, she knows." Moira's laugh was light and carefree. "She had us figured out all along."

"Yeah, I remember." With Hank clean and his hooves picked, Chloe started to tack up. She looked forward to these rides and wanted to get on the Santa Ynez trails as soon as possible. It wasn't punching cattle in Texas. It wasn't trick riding in rodeos. But on the mountain trails, all her problems melted away for an hour or two. "As I recall, I got the better end of the deal."

"You think?"

"Sure. I got Emma, the chauffeur, the maid, the nice clothes, meals which I still can't pronounce the names of—"

"How would you like to do it again?"

"What?"

Moira checked over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "How would you like to trade places again?"

Chloe grinned. "You have some prince coming to court you that you don't want?"

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Throw in a prince and you've got a deal." When that got no response, Chloe peeked over Hank's withers at Moira and Emma. The two women were standing as near to side by side as they could get, keeping in mind Emma's subservient position. "You're serious?"

"Deadly."

"But we only did it years ago to fool the professors. You're not even in school anymore."

It was Moira's turn to grin. "Well,
some
of us have to graduate. Unlike you, who just keeps on learning."

"I could graduate."

"You have enough credits for four degrees."

"What can I say? I like college."

Chloe didn't catch Moira's mutter, but it sounded suspiciously like "I guess."

Her mind proceeded to race with imagined delights. Maybe Moira needed a substitute for a grand ball. There was nothing wrong with a weekend of chauffeur-driven limousine rides, wearing a long gown and dripping in diamonds. She'd never seen Moira with a tiara; maybe one of those was too much to wish for.

"Who would we be fooling? And for how long?"

There was a moment of total silence, a rather rare thing in a barn. No dog barking at a cat, no horse stomping its irritation with a fly. Just one woman waiting for an answer that was slow in coming from two others.

"Everyone," Moira finally answered. "Forever."

"Yeah, I wish. April Fool's was last month."

"We're serious, Chloe," Emma said. The fact that she'd joined the conversation and included herself with that "we" gave Chloe her first hint that she'd been set up.

"Serious?" Chloe tightened Hank's girth and snickered. "Uh-huh."

Moira stepped closer and faced Chloe across the seat of the western saddle. "Honest to God, Chloe. We're serious."

Chloe looked her in the eyes. She'd known Moira for ten years. In all that time, Moira had never teased her mercilessly, which was what Chloe feared this might be. "You know, it wouldn't be nice for y'all to tempt me with an offer like this and then yank it back out of my reach."

Expectation lightened Moira's smile. "You'll consider it, then?"

A chauffeur, a maid, a chef, a private secretary, a castle in Ennsway...

What was not to consider?

"Nah. You're loco if you think we'd get away with it There are too many people here who know us."

"Not here," Moira said quickly. "My father wants me to come home to stay. No one in Ennsway has seen me since I was twelve."

Chloe heard hope in Moira's voice, desperation, as if she were a hungry animal sensing that its prey will tire before it does. It was reaffirmed by Moira's quickening speech.

"We fooled all of our professors, Chloe. Some of our classmates. You liked being treated like a princess, you said so every time. We can
do
this, Chloe. I know we can. And...and Emma will go home with you. You know, to help you over the rough spots. Say you'll do it, Chloe. Please."

Who in her right mind would say no?

Chapter One

How I Spent My Spring Break... by Chloe Marshall.

Chloe pulled her ponytail through her blue-and-white ball cap and amended that to
How I Spent the Rest of My Life as a Princess...
The "by" part got her on that one. Would
it be by Chloe Marshall? Or, having spent the past week learning princess rules and wearing princess clothes and practicing princess things, it probably should be
by Princess Moira.

But she wasn't feeling a hundred percent royal just yet. Not because she was tired from a long day of getting ready, but because the reality just hadn't sunk in. She'd gone over and over the plan, looking for a catch. But knowing Moira as well as she did, she wasn't surprised to find none.

"Friday! Come on, girl. Time to go."

After a week of round-the-clock intensive trading-places study in Moira's cliffside condo, Chloe's apartment looked even more worn. Everything that hadn't been sold or given away was packed. Moira was moving on, and wouldn't be taking Chloe's place here. They were both leaving California behind, a part of their past never to be revisited.

And, as she'd thought a couple of times this past week, she wondered how she was going to get over moving away from her best friend. It wasn't as if Moira could fly to Ennsway for a visit; that would be tempting fate. As a royal princess, Chloe wouldn't be able to just hop a jet and move in with Moira for the weekend, wherever she ended up; Chloe would have an entire entourage to account for.

She took one last look around the apartment. No, last week it had been worn. This week it was shabby. She lugged out three pieces of mismatched luggage, closed the door and led the way toward a taxi. Friday followed closely.

"I don't like dogs in my cab," the driver said bluntly.

Friday growled ominously, and the short, round man backed off slowly, then made a dash for his place behind the wheel. He turned the key, shifted into drive and promptly killed the engine. Fortunately for Chloe, who was then able to throw her luggage into the back seat and jump in after it before the cabbie could leave her standing on the curb.

"Santa Barbara Airport," she told him, and hoped he was listening.

Friday, who'd leaped into the cab with her, rested her head on the back of the front seat and growled every time the poor man glanced her way. By the time they reached the airport, he had beads of sweat popping out on his neck.

He scurried out his door, opened the back one and reached in tentatively. Friday apparently decided it was her job to keep this man from robbing Chloe of her few possessions, and escalated her growls accordingly.

"Come on, lady, gimme a break."

"Oh, now you're talking to me?"

She snapped the brand-new leash onto the brand-new collar, her going-away present to her second-best friend. Before she knew it, she was standing on the sidewalk beside her luggage as the cab sped away, tires squealing.

"But wait, sir, I forgot your tip," she said airily. "Come on, girl."

Friday wasn't accustomed to a leash, and Chloe wasn't very handy with three bags and a leashed dog who had her hog-tied in eight seconds. On the ninth, Chloe hit the pavement. A nice young man in a business suit stepped forward to help, but the dog scared him into backing off.

About this time, with Chloe wrapped up on her rear on the pavement, Moira's limo pulled up. Her baggage master whisked her luggage away. Moira waited for John to open the door for her and then emerged in a beautiful pale yellow jacket-and-skirt ensemble that would have cost Chloe six months' pay. It was topped off with a pearl necklace and matching earrings that were undoubtedly real and of the finest quality. Not that Chloe would know, except that she knew Moira only got the best. Emma saw to that. They immediately headed toward the terminal entrance.

"Uh, hel-lo-o..." Chloe said, when no one seemed to notice her sitting there. She tried to get up, but she hadn't gotten untangled yet.

Emma's jaw dropped open, and then she closed her eyes, as if not looking would assure her the whole week's worth of princess tutoring hadn't been wasted.

Moira's regal look gave way to a grin. "Hello, yourself. Teddy, see to Miss Marshall's bags, too, please."

Teddy jumped to do her bidding. "Yes, Your Royal Highness."

"I'd have someone help you up, Chloe, but nobody can get near you with that mongrel growling like that."

Chloe ignored her friend's smirk. "Hey, she's purebred. And she doesn't bite."

"How would you know?"

"She's never bitten anyone." Chloe unhooked the leash from Friday's collar; it was the only way she could get unwound. Moira and Emma immediately looked anywhere but
at
the dog, knowing that aggravated her, until Chloe was on her feet and reattached.

Moira looked at the leash pointedly. "I didn't know you knew how to use one of those things."

"If I did, I wouldn't have been sitting on the sidewalk."

As they walked side by side through the arched doorway into the Spanish-style terminal, Moira lowered her voice and asked, "Did you remember everything?"

Chloe glanced around to make sure no one would hear. "Mmm-hmm. Operation Fairy Tale has commenced. Or did we decide to call it Operation Grass Is Greener on the Other Side "

Moira snickered. "Quit before you make me laugh."

"What's wrong with laughing?" Had she forgotten something? She really had to get all these rules straight. "Don't princesses laugh in public?"

"We don't want to draw attention to ourselves today."

"Uh, gee, Moira, I think I already did that with that swan dive I did outside. Where're you going? The ticket counter's over there."

Arched eyebrows told her better than words ever could have that Princess Moira didn't do ticket counters.

"Oh."

"This way, Your Royal Highness, Miss Marshall," Emma advised them softly.

Emma had called Chloe by her first name for the past nine years. It unnerved Chloe to hear her get so formal now. She knew it was because they were in a public place, but it was just one more reminder that her life was changing. She just hoped it was going forward, not in reverse.

"Princess Moira!" a man yelled.

Moira didn't look, but Chloe did, out of curiosity. In the nick of time, Emma held up her pocketbook and blocked the photographer's aim.

"Don't let anyone get your picture, Chloe," Moira whispered.

And then Chloe understood. No one in Ennsway had seen the princess in sixteen years. If either of them got their picture splashed in a newspaper, their whole plot could be in jeopardy. Not that anyone would splash Chloe's picture anywhere. She was just a California blonde wearing a ball cap, a short jacket, and jeans. Not a photo op that would earn anyone a paycheck.

As instructed, Chloe put her hand up to the side of her face as the camera flashed repeatedly, until John and Teddy performed their last outgoing-staff function and blocked the photographer's progress. Even then, Chloe worried about a long-distance paparazzo catching them. It would be a shame to have come this far, to have sold all her possessions, just to call it all off at the last minute because of an ambitious photographer.

Being a princess had definite advantages. Chloe, Moira, and Emma weren't stopped by anyone, but were promptly escorted out to the private jet awaiting them.

"We're almost there," Moira encouraged her.

"Good. I brought my notes with me so I can go over them again on the plane. I have a couple questions already."

Moira led the way up the steps, followed by Emma, followed by Chloe. As she boarded the plane, a dark-haired man in a conservative brown suit and tie stepped forward, bowed and introduced himself to Moira.

"I am Humphrey, Your Royal Highness. I will bring you up-to-date on all the changes in Ennsway since you've been gone." He sounded quite stuffy, and when he glanced down his nose at Emma, it was clear he thought she was on her way out.

Chloe remained behind Emma's back and kept her face averted. If this guy was a member of the new staff, she and Moira had to trade places immediately, before he got a good look at either of them. She pulled the bill on her ball cap lower over her eyes, and Moira left her sunglasses on.

"Your brother hired me especially for you, as your private secretary."

Private secretary.
What the heck did he think Emma was?

Chloe cleared her throat, the only way she dared signal her distress at this point. If Emma suddenly dropped out of the picture, Chloe was going back home. There was no way she could fly to a foreign country and masquerade as its royal princess without Emma's round-the-clock help. It would be a bit complicated to slip back into the old life she'd shed like a snakeskin this past week. But it could be done. Perhaps her neighbor wouldn't mind returning the rocking chair she'd given her; who needed to rock a new baby, anyway? Perhaps her landlord hadn't already found another renter. Perhaps she could get her jeep back without paying a ridiculous penalty.