Page 3 of A Whiskey River Princess

Gabriella froze, unable to breathe as she waited quietly in the darkness.

“Monsieur! Open this door!” Manfred’s voice bellowed down the hallway.

“I most certainly will not!” a man replied, sounding as if he was passing by. “You’ll have to leave now unless you’d like to buy a ticket. The train is about to depart.”

Please, no!

Manfred let out an exaggerated breath. “Where is this train headed?”

“Laramie, Wyoming,” the man answered. “Now, I must insist that you disembark.”

“Oui,” Manfred agreed, defeated. “I doubt she would head to Wyoming, anyway. She’s probably still in New York.” The muted thud of his boots echoing against the floor grew faint as he walked away.

Gabriella let out a deep breath.

“All aboard!” the conductor announced, calling for last-minute passengers.

Please, please.If she didn’t get away now, Gabriella knew she never would. It was her last chance… her only chance at freedom.

All of a sudden, the train jolted, and then started moving. Gabriella held her breath as they picked up speed. When they were at full speed, she finally let out her breath. As she opened the curtain and peered out at the tall buildings of New York fading into the distance, she felt exposed, but left the curtain open anyway. The countryside was beautiful, like a Winter Wonderland as the sparkling, pristine snow lay on the ground.

As night began to fall, she finally relaxed, enjoying the scenery passing by. A thrill ran through her. She’d done it! She’d really done it! For the first time in her life, she was finally free.

There was a knock on the door a few cabins down, causing Gabriella’s heart to jump.

“Yes? What do you want?” the same gruff man from before asked.

“Dinner is served in the main dining car, if you feel so inclined,” the steward answered, “or you can dine in your cabin.”

After a few knocks on the other doors, the steward knocked on hers. She opened it, and a man dressed in a white coat stood outside her door. “Dinner is served.”

“Merci beaucoup,” she thanked him as she closed the door and set her carpet bag in the corner of the cabin. For a moment, she wondered whether she should eat in her cabin or go to the dining car, but her stomach grumbled in answer. She realized that in her haste to escape, she hadn’t eaten anything all day.

Gabriella straightened her dark blue dress—fitted and bustled in the back—then checked her appearance in the mirror. She hardly recognized herself. Her brown hair was disheveled. But what caught her attention the most was the bright blue eyes of the girl staring back at her, glistening with excitement. She quickly took off her hat—the same color as her dress—smoothed her wavy hair into place and then repined it. Satisfied, she timidly opened the door. Peering down the hallway, she saw no one, so she squared her shoulders and headed toward the dining car.

To the left was a small, empty booth, so Gabriella slid in with her back to the wall. Then she picked up a menu and held it up to cover her face, pretending to peruse it. Outwardly, she remained in control. Internally, her heart was pounding like a race horse.

Oh. I’m just being silly, she thought as she sat up straight on the bench seat.Uncle Charles didn’t raise a coward.

Her father and Prince Charles were brothers. After her parents became ill with influenza, her Uncle Charles had takenher in, wanting to save her from the same fate. After her parents died, she continued to live at the castle.

Although she was sixteenth in line for the throne and her uncle was the Prince of Monaco, that didn’t matter. What mattered most to the Grimaldis was family.

Over the years, her Uncle Charles had spoiled her, having raised her as his own. She had inherited her parents’ estate, which included a castle on theCôte d’Azurin the French Riviera, and more money than she would ever know what to do with. But she would trade all of that just to have her parents back again.

“Excuse me.” A female voice broke her reverie. When Gabriella looked up, a young woman who appeared to be about her age stood by the table, looking at her with kind green eyes. “Would you mind if I dine with you? There doesn’t seem to be anywhere else to sit. Besides, I could use the company.”

There was something about her that Gabriella liked right away, even though she didn’t know why. And it would be nice to have someone to talk to on the three-day journey. “Of course. By all means.” Gabriella gestured toward the bench seat across from hers.

“Thank you.” The woman smoothed a hand over her bright strawberry-blonde hair and laid her reticule on the bench seat beside her close to the window. “I don’t fancy having to sit with the likes of them.” She motioned with her head inconspicuously toward the same scruffy men Gabriella had seen when she first boarded the train. The men looked very much out of place amongst the rest of the first-class passengers.

“I wonder how they got into this part of the train,” Gabriella mused, knowing that the train was segregated according to class.

The young woman shrugged. “They bought a ticket, I suppose.” A broad smile spread across her face as she changed the subject. “Please, forgive me,” she added in an accent that sounded like a cross between British and Irish as she extendedher hand daintily across the table to Gabriella. “My name is Kenzie… Kenzie Baker.”

Gabriella returned Kenzie’s warm, contagious smile. She was about to tell the young woman her full name and title but thought better of it. After all, if she wanted to live a new life—until her Uncle Charles or Manfred Carlo caught up with her—then she had better start now. “Gabriella Grimaldi. And the pleasure is mine,mademoiselle.” She gave the woman’s hand a gentle squeeze.

A waiter approached, dressed in a white coat, crisp white shirt, and black trousers. “Good evening, ladies. May I start you off with a drink?”

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