Danielle Steel: H.R.H.

“Don't worry about me. Just have fun. What a shame,” he then said, pretending to lament. “You're going to miss a state dinner on Friday night.” He knew just how boring she thought the dinners were.

“Do you want me back?” she asked seriously, her disappointment not showing on her face. If he wanted her to, she would have come back for him, although she would have been disappointed to cut her London visit short. But for both of them, responsibility and duty were the name of the game, and the code by which they lived.

“Of course not, silly girl. I wouldn't dream of it. Stay longer if you like.”

“I might,” she said, looking hopeful. “You wouldn't mind?”

“Stay as long as you like,” he reassured her, as she hugged him again and shook hands with his minister politely, and then with a last wave at her father, Christianna left.

“She's a lovely girl,” his finance minister said to him, as they went back to their work.

“Thank you,” Hans Josef said proudly. “Yes, she is.”

Her driver took Christianna to the airport in Zurich with her two bodyguards, and four security officials put her on the plane.

Once on board, it was obvious that someone important was traveling, all the flight attendants appeared to be buzzing around her. They offered her champagne, which she declined, and immediately after takeoff, they brought her a cup of tea. One bodyguard was sitting next to her, the other was across the aisle. All the way to London she read a book about the application of economic policies, which her father had recommended to her. And an hour and a half later they landed at Heathrow Airport, where a limousine was waiting for her. She was whisked through customs, with nothing to declare, and two airport security police joined forces with her bodyguards, and took her to the limousine. They took off immediately, and less than an hour later, the car pulled up in front of Victoria's small, elegant house on Sloane Square. She was one of the few titled women in London who had an enormous fortune, thanks to an American mother, an heiress who had married a title and left her daughter a vast inheritance when she died two years ago. Victoria was having a fabulous time with the money, and didn't mind it at all when people said she was spoiled. She knew she was, and was having so much fun she was never embarrassed by her extravagant way of life, and she was extremely generous with her friends.

She opened the door for Christianna herself, and stood there in blue jeans, a T-shirt, and high-heeled red alligator shoes, with huge diamond earrings and a stunning tiara sitting slightly askew on her bright red hair. She squealed the moment she saw her cousin, threw her arms around her, and escorted her inside, as Christianna's two bodyguards carried in her bags, and the butler ushered them upstairs.

“You look fabulous !” she said to Christianna, as the tiara slid slowly toward her ear, and Christianna started to laugh.

“What are you doing with that thing on? Should I have brought mine? Are we going somewhere tonight?” Christianna couldn't think of a single place she would have worn a tiara, except maybe to a ball given by the queen. And Victoria hadn't warned her of anything important going on.

“It just seems too stupid to leave it sitting in the vault. I thought I'd get some use out of it. I wear it all the time.” It was so typical of her.

She was wild, eccentric, and beautiful. She was extremely tall, nearly six feet, and completely undaunted, she went everywhere in six-inch heels, platforms preferably. She wore either miniskirts or jeans, her skirts were so short they almost looked like belts, and she was always swathed in diaphanous tops that seemed to drip and fall and were always slipping to reveal one breast and her creamy white skin. She was a spectacular-looking young woman. She had done some acting and modeling, gotten bored with it, and tried painting for a while. She was actually quite good at it, but she never stuck with anything for long. She had just gotten engaged to a Danish prince, whom everyone said was totally besotted with her, but knowing her as well as she did, Christianna was not entirely convinced that the engagement would last long either. Victoria had been engaged twice before, once to an American, and the second time to a well-known French actor who had left her for someone else, which Victoria said was incredibly rude. She had had a new boyfriend herself by the following week. She was by far the most eccentric person Christianna knew, but she loved spending time with her. They always had so much fun together. They stayed up all night, went to parties, and danced at Annabel's. Christianna always met interesting people with her. Victoria also drank a lot and smoked cigars. She lit one now as they sat down in her living room, which was a jumble of both modern and ancient art. Her mother had left her several Picassos, and there were books and art objects everywhere. Christianna was ecstatic just being there with her. It was the exact opposite of her quiet life in Vaduz with her father. Being around Victoria was like watching a circus act on the high wire. You never knew what would happen next. Watching her was breathtaking.

They chatted for a few minutes about their plans for the next week. Victoria said her fiancé was in Thailand on an official tour, and she seemed to be taking full advantage of it, going out every night, although she claimed to Christianna that she was madly in love with him, and this one would stick. Christianna wasn't as sure. Victoria mentioned in passing that they were having dinner at Kensington Palace that night, with several of their cousins, and afterward they'd all go out.

The phone must have rung ten times during their conversation, and Victoria answered it herself. She gushed and laughed and teased as her two pugs, four Pekingese, and a Chihuahua ran around the room barking. She no longer had the cheetah or the snake. It was a total madhouse, and Christianna loved it. She loved visiting her.

Victoria asked Christianna about her love life, as a maid quietly served them lunch. They had oysters and salad, which was a new diet the already-too-slim redhead said that she was on.

“I don't have a love life,” Christianna said, looking undisturbed. “There's no one for me to go out with in Vaduz. I don't really care.” There had been someone she liked in California, but it had ended when she went home, and it hadn't been serious, just good company while she was there. They had parted good friends. And as he had told her before she left, “the princess thing” would have been too much for him. Most of the time it was for her, too. It was a heavy burden to live with.

“We'll have to find you someone fabulous here.” Victoria's idea of fabulous wasn't exactly Christianna's, although she did know some very interesting people, most of whom were a lot of fun, but no one Christianna would have taken seriously. They were usually a very exotic bunch. Victoria knew everyone who mattered in London, and everyone else was dying to meet her.

The two young women went upstairs after lunch. One of Victoria's maids had already unpacked Christianna's bags, and hung everything neatly in the closet. The rest was impeccably put away in drawers. Victoria's guest room was decorated in leopard and zebra patterns, with red roses everywhere. It was all done in beautiful French fabrics, with stacks of books on every table, and a huge four-poster bed. She had enormous style, and always managed to pull off things no one else could have, in her decorating and everywhere else. Her own bedroom was done in pale lavender satin, with a huge white fox blanket on the bed. It had the look of an extremely expensive brothel, but in spite of the flamboyant taste, she had exquisite antiques and everything she owned was of impeccable quality. There were a lifesize silver skull and a pair of gold handcuffs sitting on a table next to her bed. The table itself was made entirely of crystal, and had belonged to the maharajah of Jaipur.