§ § § -- August 9, 1991
Supper was about ten minutes from being served; Leslie and Roarke had already had word from Michiko that she would be joining them. Roarke was on the phone, making some last-minute arrangements for a fantasy whose "owner" would be arriving the next morning, and Leslie was idly paging through an electronics catalog that had come in the mail that day, wondering how much work a computer might save her and Roarke.
Someone knocked on the door and Roarke said into the phone, "One moment, please." He looked up and called, "Come in." Leslie winced a little when Prince Errico walked into the foyer, but nodded civilly and then returned her attention to the catalog.
"Am I interrupting anything?" the prince asked, sounding unusually subdued. Leslie looked up again, and Roarke smiled.
"No," he said. "I'll be only another moment. Please sit down, won't you?" Errico did so while Roarke quickly wound up his call and hung up; the prince cast a wistful glance in Leslie's direction, and she turned pink and buried her nose in the catalog one more time.
"What can we do for you, Your Highness?" Roarke inquired.
Errico sighed softly. "I have had fully a dozen dinner invitations," he admitted, "but I find none of them appealing. Perhaps my heart just isn't in the search any longer, Mr. Roarke. Are all women so blatant? At least three of them actually suggested I meet them in their hotel rooms. They hardly seemed gracious or poised in any way. Perhaps the quality of your guests has been declining recently." He directed a meaningful look at Roarke.
Leslie compressed her lips to keep back the retort that wanted to tumble out; Roarke smiled. "Perhaps you're trying too hard, Your Highness," he said. "What exactly did you do after you left here this morning?"
"I went to the swimming pool," Errico began, "as there always seem to be many young women there. I had thought to take a swim as well, of course, but I never really had a chance to do so. Suddenly women were everywhere, and I began to see quite a heap of hotel-room keys on my table."
Roarke and Leslie looked at each other, both certain he was leaving something out. "Spontaneous attraction?" Leslie asked skeptically.
"This doesn't appear to have happened before," Roarke said, subtly hinting.
Errico looked faintly sheepish. "Well, perhaps I forgot myself and extracted a few of my rainbow gems to play with," he mumbled.
The gems were instantly recognizable the world over, and both Roarke and Leslie could imagine the reactions of the women the prince claimed had flocked to him. "To 'play' with, Your Highness?" Roarke said with a faint, highly-amused smile. "Now I wonder why, exactly, you would have done such a thing?"
Errico glanced back and forth between his hosts, who simply watched him expectantly, and finally confessed, "Surely you can't blame me, Mr. Roarke. I'm in quite a hurry, with only a bit more than a day before my great engagement gala. I thought perhaps the gems would help me to attract more eligible women, but I see now that I made quite a large error. I merely brought out the greed in those women, did I not?"
"At the very least, yes," Roarke agreed, gentle laughter in his voice. "I realize that, as you stated, you are in a hurry; but you must understand that finding a suitable woman takes time. You simply don't have that luxury anymore. Has it occurred to you to reschedule your gala and give yourself more time to find someone?"
"Oh, my dear sir, I'm afraid that's quite impossible," Errico said mournfully. "There will be a great many celebrities at my ball, and they can't rearrange their busy schedules on such short notice—even for an Arcolosian prince, unfortunately. Before I left home, my butler, Giohanni, made that abundantly clear to me. What's more, these estimable luminaries come from all over North America and Europe, and I expect that some of them may well already be on their way here even as I speak."
"Undoubtedly," Roarke said, nodding. He thought for a moment, then smiled. "Well, for the moment, suppose you set the problem aside and have your dinner here with us. We have another guest eating here this evening as well, so perhaps you might get acquainted and have a chance to relax. After dinner, the charter will arrive with your children, and Leslie will be meeting the plane and escorting them to your bungalow."
"Wonderful," Errico said, slumping a bit in his chair and looking somewhat relieved. "I would certainly welcome a break. Who is your guest, anyone I know?"
"A friend of mine," Leslie said. "She should be here any minute—supper's almost ready. As a matter of fact, if you'd both excuse me, I'll go see about it." The men nodded, and she dropped the catalog into her chair and left the room.
"I do still have tomorrow to continue my search," Errico mused, thinking aloud. "Al-though I must admit, the thought itself is rather daunting, in light of my failure to win over your daughter." He looked up and focused on Roarke. "You amaze me, my good sir. I tried my hardest to take your cherished child from you, yet you are still willing to help me. And as for Leslie, I can't blame her if she loathes me now."
"Oh, surely not, Your Highness," Roarke said warmly. "You came here to have a fantasy fulfilled, and we will do our utmost to see that it is. It's as simple as that."
Errico cracked a smile at last. "You have my very deepest gratitude, Mr. Roarke. If ever I can play host to you, please don't hesitate to ask."
"My livelihood keeps me quite busy," Roarke said smilingly, "but I do appreciate the invitation. I have heard a great deal about Arcolos, and I must say that the idea appeals greatly. For the moment…"
As if on cue, the door opened and in came Michiko. "Hello, Mr. Roarke," she said. "Where's Leslie?"
"Hello, Michiko," Roarke said. "She is checking on dinner, which I believe should be ready any moment. We have another guest dining with us this evening. Mr. Errico Bartolomé, may I present Miss Michiko Tokita."
Errico immediately arose from his chair and slowly approached the foyer, recognition lighting his eyes. "Why, of course, Miss Tokita! You're very well-known in Europe, you know. My daughter Adriana must be your biggest fan. I am privileged to meet you."
Michiko stared up at him in surprise. "Pleased to meet you as well, Mr. Bartolomé." She looked as if she wanted to say more, but instead squinted curiously at him, clearly finding him familiar-looking and trying to place the face.
"Is something wrong?" Roarke asked her.
"No…no, I'm sorry," said Michiko, flustered. "I was just thinking that Mr. Bartolomé looks like someone I know, or at least someone I've seen somewhere. I apologize, Mr. Bartolomé. I really didn't mean to stare like that."
Errico took her hand and kissed it. "Oh, that's quite all right, my dear lady. Don't trouble yourself with fear of offending me." He smiled with an unaccustomed air of self-deprecation. "I'm afraid I myself spent a large part of the past week offending Mr. Roarke's daughter, so perhaps it's only what I deserve."
"My goodness," said Michiko, almond eyes wide. "That must be quite a story." She blushed and looked at the floor. "Oh, dear, just listen to me. I'm not fit company tonight, I guess." She slanted an embarrassed glance at Roarke, who smiled.
"Natural curiosity, Michiko," he assured her with a chuckle. Just then Leslie came out from the hallway leading to the kitchen wing of the house and stopped in surprise when she saw Errico and Michiko standing there.
"I see you've already met," she remarked with a grin, and turned to Roarke. "Mariki's out on the veranda right now, so why don't we go on out."
"Good, Leslie, thank you," Roarke said. Together the foursome left the room and made their way down the long front porch of the main house, where Mariki was unloading covered dishes from her serving cart onto a table laid with four place settings. They all took seats; Roarke thanked Mariki, who nodded and departed with her cart, and they began to serve themselves.
Once they had begun eating, Errico eyed Roarke for a moment, glanced at Leslie and then studied Michiko, looking very thoughtful. "Miss Tokita," he said at last, "I've been thinking. My children are to arrive here tonight, and I thought perhaps you would consent to meet Adriana and autograph something for her."
Michiko stopped eating and stared at him, a dismayed glint in her eyes but her face mostly blank. "Well, I'd planned to spend a quiet evening in my own room," she said.
Errico cleared his throat and glanced again at Roarke and Leslie, who were watching in silence. "Of course, of course," he murmured and sighed softly. "Yes, then, by all means. I apologize profusely, Miss Tokita." He met Leslie's gaze, abruptly turning stop-sign red, then blinking at her with newly wide eyes. "Of course," he breathed, looking stunned.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Bartolomé?" Roarke inquired.
Errico shifted his attention. "No, Mr. Roarke…in fact, I may have just solved one. I believe I've begun to understand the reason I've had such trouble locating a suitable wife. I come on far too strong, do I not? Miss Tokita is undoubtedly here looking for a sanctuary from all her doting fans, a break from the constant pressures of being a celebrity, and here I am treating her like a star when she surely prefers to be treated like merely another human being. I simply wasn't thinking when I made the suggestion. Please, again, accept my humble apologies, Miss Tokita. Since you are singing at my gala on Sunday, that will be time enough for my daughter to meet you. Please, forget I even spoke."
"Gracious," said Michiko, who had been staring at him in amazement. "That's really not necessary, Mr. Bartolomé. Your…gala?"
Errico groaned aloud and flipped his hands palms-up into the air, casting his gaze at the ceiling fan over their heads. "Ah, Diento mie, I have done it yet again!" he cried. Roarke visibly squelched a smile, but Leslie and Michiko both began to laugh.
"So you're the guest who's having a formal gala on Sunday. Mr. Roarke mentioned it to me earlier today, and I wasn't quite sure I wanted to make the appearance." Michiko ex-changed a merry glance with Leslie. "But maybe I will after all."
"Miss Tokita, if you choose not to sing," Errico said firmly, "then you need not feel the least bit obligated to do so. I shall understand perfectly, and you shall have your peace and remain completely undisturbed. I don't mean to trouble you so. I'll not bother you again, I promise." He turned to Roarke. "Perhaps I should have eaten at the hotel after all."
"No, no," Michiko broke in before Roarke could respond. "Please don't worry about it, Mr. Bartolomé. This might sound incredibly nosy, but you obviously have quite a story to tell, and you've been dropping the most fascinating hints throughout this entire dinner conversation. I don't know why you're having this, uh, gala, or why you need me to sing at it; and I seem to remember you saying something about finding a 'suitable wife'. I really hate to pry, but unfortunately, you've got me so curious that I'm going to practice the world's worst manners and ask you if you'd mind telling me about it."
Errico gazed at her, eyes wide, an expression of new appreciation on his features. "Miss Tokita, I should be more than happy to tell you my story, if Mr. Roarke and Leslie don't mind sitting through it…but please, let me tell you the full truth before I begin. I am not merely 'Mr. Bartolomé'. That is my surname, yes, but I rarely use it. Before I came here, I asked Mr. Roarke to keep my true identity a secret from everyone, even poor Leslie there. The fact is, I am Prince Errico V of Arcolos, and as you surely are aware if you bother to follow royal exploits, I have been widowed for the past eight years."
"Oh my goodness, yes," Michiko said, looking stunned. "Your Highness, it's my privilege to meet you, rather than the other way around. And I'd be more than happy to meet your little girl and sign an autograph for her."
Errico beamed. "Miss Tokita, you have my eternal gratitude. You will make my child so very happy. Please, I beg you, call me Errico. Don't even bother with the honorifics—no 'Mr. Bartolomé' and no 'Your Highness' or 'Prince'. I still wish to keep my identity under wraps, until the gala at least."
"All right, but only if you'll call me Michiko," she said with a shy smile.
"Done, my lady, done. Excuse me…Michiko." Errico grinned. "Now, my dear Michiko, here is the full story." And he dominated the rest of the entire dinner conversation by regaling her with the story of his search for a wife and what had happened as a result. More than once Leslie rolled her eyes, and Roarke found himself laughing at her reactions more often than not. For her part, Michiko was breathless with laughter by the time Errico finally finished talking.
"So that, my dear, is the reason I am having a formal gala on Sunday," Errico wound up his narrative. "Although unfortunately, the party may turn out to be entirely without purpose, since I still haven't found a lady to wife. But there are too many luminaries invited to cancel or postpone it now."
"Really?" said Michiko, eyes still alight. "Who's supposed to come?"
"Edmond Dumont and Susan Lohmann, the famous composer and his singer wife," Errico said, ticking off on his fingers as he spoke. "The lovely singer Elin Kristel Granath from Sweden is to be there. The well-known American film actress Toni Karlsen is to come. The distinguished Broadway actor Russell St. Anthony…" He cut himself off when Michiko gasped loudly and turned very pale indeed.
"Michiko, are you all right?" Leslie asked anxiously.
"I…" Michiko swallowed and raked her hand through her hair. "I can't even come home without seeing that man…"
Errico leaned forward, genuinely concerned. "Michiko, my dear, I can see I've upset you greatly. Has that man hurt you badly? If so, just tell me. I'll not let him anywhere near you all evening, believe me. I won't allow him to cause you such distress ever again."
Roarke and Leslie looked at each other in amazement; Roarke's dark eyes began to sparkle suddenly, and he smiled ever so faintly. Leslie looked back at Errico and Michiko for a moment, then grinned to herself and crossed her fingers under the table.