A Royal Kiss and Tell

Henry made another sound of disbelief, then bellowed, “You can’t just walk out of here with one of my servants!”

“She’s not a servant—she’s a slave,” Leo said.

Henry stepped into Leo’s path.

Leo groaned. “I really rather hoped we might avoid this,” he said, but he knew that he would not avoid what was coming. Henry took a swing and landed it squarely on Leo’s jaw. An explosion of pain blinded him for a moment, but by some miracle, he didn’t topple over.

He let go Jacleen’s hand and swung back, connecting with Henry’s chest, and followed that with a slap upside his head. Henry came at him with both hands, but before he could put them around Leo’s neck, one of the maids raced into the kitchen.

“Your Grace!” she cried, arms flailing. “It’s time!”

Henry did not go to his wife at once but bellowed more things after Leo and Jacleen, mainly about how Leo would never be welcome in Britain again. The poor Weslorian girl was trembling so hard that he worried she’d collapse. But then Henry had seemed to decide he best go meet his child, and the bellowing ceased.

Leo hurried down a very long hall until Jacleen asked in a voice scarcely above a whisper if he meant to go out, for he was going deeper into the castle. “Then if you would be so kind as to direct me to the service entrance,” he said. Jacleen pointed in the direction they’d come. Which meant they needed to retrace their steps through the kitchen. With a groan, Leo pulled her along behind him. He avoided eye contact with the cook, who was, oddly enough, still standing in the very spot they’d left her.

At last they emerged from the castle into a service courtyard, and there, just as he knew they would be, were Kadro and Artur. They were on horseback, and in between them was a saddled horse without a rider.

And quite unexpectedly, there was also a young lad. He spoke to Jacleen in Weslorian, and she turned a panicked look to Leo. “My brother.”

“Your brother?”

Before he could think what to do, a sudden burst from the kitchen door startled them all. It was the footman who had witnessed the altercation in the kitchen. He had a cloth bundle of some sort, which he tossed to the boy. To Jacleen, he said, “Godspeed,” and disappeared back inside.

None of this was in Leo’s plans. He didn’t really have plans, but this was not what he’d anticipated, and it produced such anxiety in him that he thought his heart might give out. But there was no time to wait for that. They had to move. Kadro and Artur had not expected Jacleen or the boy, but when Leo told Kadro to put her before him in the saddle, he did as he was commanded without question. Artur lifted the lad up behind him, and Leo took the third horse.

Leo did not miss the look shared between his two loyal guards. They thought the worst of him, he supposed. He could hardly blame them. Through the years, they’d had to peel him up off floors and drag him out of beds. They knew what sort of sot he was on a normal day and no doubt they thought this was a drunken shenanigan.

But today was not a normal day. On the one end of it, he’d had those few stolen moments with Caroline that still lingered in his blood. On the other end of it, he had a frightened Weslorian girl and her brother, who surely thought they were being dragged off to an even worse situation. And in between those ends, he’d hardly had a drop.

He took Jacleen and her brother to Cressidian.

Cressidian met him at the door of his house in a dressing gown. He took one look at Jacleen, and then the lad, and said to Leo, “That’s three now, Highness.”

“I realize this is an imposition, sir, but I—”

Cressidian interrupted him by throwing his hand up and pointing down the hall. “Go,” he said to Jacleen and her brother.

Jacleen looked with alarm at Leo, then took her brother’s hand and walked uncertainly in the direction he pointed.

Cressidian glared at Leo. “I need money for their keep.”

“More money?” Leo asked, surprised. “I should think what I’ve given you thus far should suffice.”

“You think wrong, Highness. And if you don’t want to pay me fairly for their keep, I think the Weslorian ambassador would be interested in what you are doing.”

Leo arched a brow. “Beg your pardon, but are you extorting me?”

“Call it what you like. I’m just asking for their keep.”

Leo sighed. He looked at the grand house, at the marble floors and gold-plated fixtures, the crystal chandeliers. Mr. Cressidian was a very wealthy man. “I’ll have my secretary arrange a stipend.”

“A hundred pounds per head,” Mr. Cressidian said.

Leo bristled. “They are not cattle, they are human beings.”

Mr. Cressidian shrugged. “All the same to me.”

So now Leo had a castle, could hear his chickens behind the hotel, had added a young boy he’d not expected to his improbable rescue mission, was paying a very wealthy man one hundred pounds for each of them, and half the town was avoiding him altogether. He would have quite a lot of explaining to do when he returned to Helenamar.

But he still had three more women to rescue. That was going to prove to be difficult because all of Leo’s invitations had dried up. Even the gentlemen who had greeted him each day in the lobby of the Clarendon Hotel avoided him now.

He read about the parties happening around him in Honeycutt’s Gazette, parties he could no longer attend.

He was reading about one now, as it happened, and he lowered his paper to look at Josef over the top of it. “Not a single invitation?” he asked again.

“None, Your Highness.”

Leo shifted uncomfortably. There had been a time in his life here that a party wasn’t anything at all to write about in the papers if he didn’t attend it. “What of Hawke?” Leo asked glumly. “Has he responded to my invitation to dine?”

Josef was pointedly silent.

Leo had guessed Beck would be unhappy with what had happened at Arundel, but this was more than he’d anticipated. His friend had disappeared from the earth. But Caroline was still flitting from salon to salon, apparently. According to the gazette, some lady was wearing a dress she’d made, and the sleeves were unique and all the rage now.

Leo was completely obsessed with any mention of Caroline in that gazette. When he wasn’t thinking what to do with his three wards, and how to reach Rasa, he was thinking about her. He even felt unusual pangs of jealousy at the mention of suitors. Bloody hell. What a mess he’d made for himself. He couldn’t even get her brother to respond to his invitation.

He sighed and glanced at his secretary. “Well, Josef, I suppose you might inquire of the hotel if one of my chickens might be made ready for us this evening, as I’ve no place to dine.”

“Ambassador Redbane has asked for a moment, Your Highness. He has some dispatches from Alucia.”

“Oh,” Leo said, perking up a bit. “Is he here?”

“Je.”

“Bring him,” he said, eager to have some company.

Ambassador Redbane, a jovial gentleman, hailed from the southern border of Alucia—the wine region, where people were known for their hospitality.

Redbane greeted Leo enthusiastically, which gave Leo a glimmer of hope that news of him hadn’t reached into every corner. The ambassador had very little for him, mainly a letter from his mother the queen, which said very little. “Not a word from Bas or Eliza?”

Redbane shook his head.

Leo studied him. “Do you know what I think, Redbane? I think we ought to have a party and celebrate my time here in England before it draws to a close.”

For the first time since he’d arrived, Redbane’s smile dimmed. He looked down at his leather pouch in which he carried the official correspondence and winced.

“Oh dear,” Leo said. “What’s that look?”

Redbane sighed. “I would be remiss,” he said carefully, “if I were to allow you to believe that such a gathering would be...well attended.”

“Is that so,” Leo said. He sniffed back a wave of offense. He was still a bloody prince, wasn’t he?

“I mean no offense, Highness,” Redbane hastened to assure him.

“Offense taken,” Leo muttered.

Redbane’s face began to pinken. “It, ah...it has to do with what some perceive as your proclivities.”

“My proclivities? I have no proclivities, Redbane. I am proclivitless.”

“With housemaids and...women of the night.” Redbane whispered the last part. “And...and it has been suggested that perhaps you should return to Alucia.”

Leo stiffened. “Women of the night, Redbane? You mean prostitutes, for heaven’s sake. We are grown men here.”

Redbane turned redder. He cleared his throat. But it wasn’t this poor man’s fault. It was solely on Leo’s shoulders, and he couldn’t let the ambassador suffer any longer. He waved a hand at him. “Pay me no heed, sir. I’ve heard the same. Has the king heard the rumors, as well?”

“I can’t say for certain,” Redbane said carefully. “But I would suspect that he has. I have received word from the foreign secretary that you are to depart for Alucia as soon as is reasonably possible.” He handed him a folded vellum, sealed in wax and stamped with the official signet of the king of Alucia.

Leo took the vellum from him. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he said with a wry smile. He didn’t break the seal right away. “Fine. But there is something I must do before I leave England.” Leo abruptly stood up. “Will you send Josef to me?”

The ambassador came to his feet. He bowed and went out. When Josef appeared, Leo said, “I mean to go round to Lord Hawke’s house this afternoon.”

“Je, as you wish, Your Highness.”

What he wished was beyond Josef’s capacity to provide. He wanted to find all five women and see Caroline again. Beyond that, he didn’t know any more. He couldn’t imagine it. He couldn’t imagine being married to Lady Eulalie and thinking of a beautiful blonde woman in England every day for the rest of his life, but he feared that was his fate.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A gentleman who inherited a fortune invested it all so heavily in a defunct railway that now he is left penniless. Reports are that there is keen interest in his Mayfair abode, which now stands empty.

An unfortunate encounter with a candle nearly set Lady Hogarth aflame. It is highly recommended that one not stand so close to the dinner buffet when dressed in formal wear.

The number of potential suitors for the sister of a baron has grown, as word of a sizable dowry has spread like the Great Fire of London.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

FOR ONCE, BECK had proven himself to be dreadfully serious in his quest to see Caroline married, particularly after they returned from Sussex.

Two days ago, he’d wandered into her room and had surveyed the bolts of cloth and dress forms before leveling a gaze on Caroline. She was seated on the floor with her legs crossed, still in her dressing gown, poring over fashion plates.

“What has happened?” he asked, casting one arm out. “Has a cyclone struck? An earthquake? Has a gang ransacked our home?”

“You’re so amusing, Beck! As you can see, I am making dresses.”

“When did this become your leisurely pursuit? I’ve never known you to give your attention to anything other than the post and the invitations that might be there.”

“That is not true. I’ve been interested in very many things, but you’re so busy with your carousing you haven’t noticed. If you are truly interested, I’ve always been fascinated with the latest styles, but my desire to make my own began when the Alucians arrived in town.”

“Alucians have been in London since the dawn of time,” Beck pointed out.

“You’re right—my interest peaked when the royal Alucians came to London. Why do you care?”

“Because I’d rather not scare off any potential suitors with bolts of cloth and dress forms and any other indication of your wretched spending habits,” he said, fluttering his fingers at the piles of cloth. “Lord March was quite plainly frightened.”

She shrugged.

“Robert Ladley and his cousin Betina will come to dine this evening, and next week, we will join the Pennybackers and meet Mr. Trent.”

“Mr. Trent?” She looked up at him. “Who is Mr. Trent?”

“He is a gentleman of good looks and moral character, but more important, he’s made a bloody fortune in the manufacture of steam-powered agricultural implements.”

“Pardon?”

“Thrashers and whatnot,” Beck said with a flick of his wrist.

Caroline could not see herself married to a man who made thrashers and whatnot. She wasn’t entirely sure what that was, but it didn’t sound very glamorous.

Beck sighed impatiently. “He is a wealthy man, Caro. He is young and fit, and he is in need of a wife. You are a pretty woman with a generous dowry and in need of a husband. You might as well set your mind to it. I’m determined to do what our parents would have wanted and marry you well. Now, as you know, I am leaving this afternoon for Sussex and the Four Corners race. While I’m away, Uncle Hogarth and his wife will arrive in London with their cousin, Viscount Ainsley. Surely one of these gentlemen will be to your liking.”

“How can you even suggest it? Do you know Mr. Trent or Viscount Hainey?”

“Ainsley,” Beck said. He stepped over a bolt of cloth on his way to the door. “I don’t need to know them. I need only ensure that they have the means to provide for you and care for you. I’m to Sussex.”

“Is that all you need to know? What if you make your grand arrangement and attach the almighty pound to it, and we find we are hopelessly incompatible?”

“Unlikely,” he said flippantly.

“Why do you not attend to your own marriage, and leave me be? I am perfectly content the way things are.”

“It’s not natural. And when you are gone from my care, perhaps I will indeed invite a wife into this,” he said, gesturing at her room. “There’s no point in arguing, darling! You will be engaged by the year’s end.” He walked out.

“That’s what you think,” Caroline muttered darkly, and turned back to her fashion plates. She was not interested in the gentlemen Beck had rustled up for her. Even the two she’d never met, which, admittedly, would normally thrill her. She loved meeting new gentlemen and flirting with them and playing her little game. How long before they were smitten? How quickly could she turn their head? Hollis said she was vain, and Caroline had readily agreed that was true. But that wasn’t it, that wasn’t it at all. Until recently, she hadn’t met a man yet who truly deserved her, whose curiosity had emboldened her to show a different side of herself, to take that chance that perhaps she was not as awful as she feared...and when she did meet that man, he was the worst man on earth.

It vexed her no end that she could scarcely think of anyone else but Leopold. She would be glad when he was gone from their shores, because as long as he was here, she was consumed with thoughts of him. He was a sickness, a fever she couldn’t shake. It was maddening to think of him so often and to constantly recall that night and the way his mouth felt on her. It was absurd to pine for a man who would rather dip his wick into the poor maids across Mayfair. It was infuriating to still want to be near him after what had happened in Arundel.

Caroline didn’t make sense to herself anymore. She’d never been like this—she’d always known exactly what she wanted and was quick to withdraw her affections or attention the moment a gentleman became bothersome. But not this one—this one, this prince, made her feel ravenous, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. As if she’d eaten an entire raspberry cake and still wanted her supper.

Oh, but he’d done it, that scoundrel. He was persona non grata in any respectable house after what had happened in Arundel. Word had spread quickly...perhaps because she’d come back and gone directly to Hollis.

She’d not heard a word from him since their return, either. Every time someone came to the door, she would rush to the railing above the entry and remain just out of sight to see who had come, in the same manner she used to do when she was a girl. In the same manner she’d done in Constantine Palace. It was never anyone but Beck and his friends. Why didn’t he call? Why didn’t he at least call on Beck? She was desperate to ask her brother if he had ended his friendship with the prince on principle. That didn’t sound like Beck, but then again, there were occasions when he would step out on principle.

On the other hand, she didn’t dare ask Beck a thing lest she risk him knowing all the confusing thoughts rattling around her.

Whatever had transpired between Beck and Leopold, it seemed apparent by week’s end that they’d gone their separate ways. Beck hadn’t mentioned him at all, and now he’d departed to Sussex. She was left with nothing. No explanation, nothing but the burning hole in her heart.

WHEN PRINCE LEOPOLD DID, at last, call on the Hawke household, he did so at the most inopportune time. Uncle Hogarth and Aunt Clarissa were in her salon, flanking their young friend, the perfectly polite and handsome Viscount Ainsley. Lord Ladley had arrived, too, clearly having heard of the Hogarth visit from Beck, and clearly not wanting to lose ground to an interloper who’d only just returned from America.

Generally, Caroline would be beside herself with glee to have so many gentlemen assembled in her salon. There was nothing more pleasing than when a prince came calling while others were around to witness. But not this prince and not this time. The moment Garrett said his name, she’d wished the floor would open up and swallow her guests whole.

The five of them were to dine at the Debridges’ house that evening, along with ten other souls. Someone had brought up the prospect of dancing, and Aunt Clarissa had lamented the fact that she had not learned the latest Alucian dance making its rounds of London salons. Uncle Hogarth had boasted that Caroline was a fine dancer, and to the merriment of all, Caroline was attempting to show her aunt the dance steps as the gentlemen had a port. They were all laughing when Garrett interrupted to announce a caller.

“Oh?” Caroline said, surprised. “Who is it?”

“His Royal Highness Prince Leopold.”

Her heart fluttered instantly, and she was thankful she was standing behind her aunt, because she could feel the heat creeping into her face. “Oh.” She wanted to sound light and carefree, but was certain her voice sounded pinched. Her throat felt strained, actually, much like her chest. “Have you informed him Beck has gone to Sussex?”

“Yes, madam. He wishes to give you his regards.”

Caroline peeked around her aunt. “Then...”

“Then you must show him in,” her aunt said.

Garrett looked at Caroline.

“Yes. That’s what you should do,” Caroline agreed, and forced a smile. As Garrett went to fetch him, she said, “Do please forgive the intrusion.”

“Think nothing of it, Lady Caroline,” Ladley said at once. Lord Ainsley looked as if he thought something of it.

But her uncle said jovially, “It will be my pleasure to make his acquaintance. In spite of all I’ve heard.” He chortled.

When Leopold entered, he seemed surprised at the number of people assembled but was clearly practiced in collecting himself. He bowed. “I beg your pardon for the interruption.”

“Your Highness, how good of you to call after all this time,” Caroline said, and sank into a curtsy.

“Thank you. I, ah—”

“You know Lord Ladley,” she said, twirling away from him. She introduced her aunt and uncle, and Lord Ainsley, as well. When she’d finished the introductions, she turned back to him. “I regret that we were on our way out,” she said.

“Yes, perhaps we ought to be on our way,” Ladley said, offering his arm. “Supper is at nine.”

“I wish we’d known to expect you,” she said. “I could have spared you the trip here.”

“Hmm,” he said, his gaze steady on hers.

“Shall I give Beck a message when he returns?”

He smiled slowly. Her heart felt as if it was beating out of her chest.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you. But if I may intrude for one more minute before you go...might I have a word, Lady Caroline?”

“Well...” She glanced at her guests.

“I won’t take but a moment.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, and gestured for him to speak.

His brows dipped. “I had hoped for a word in private.”

“Ah. Well, as you can see...”

“Caro, darling, you should hear him,” her aunt suggested.

“Of course you must, Caro,” her uncle added. “We’ll be here when you’re done. Take all the time you need.”

Caroline shot Leopold a look. “Very well. But I won’t need long at all.”

The prince stepped to one side to allow her access to the door. She walked out of the room. She supposed Leopold followed. She was so angry and confused and annoyed that she marched down the hall to the small receiving salon near the front of the house. She walked into the room, whirled about and folded her arms.

Leopold entered behind her, quietly closed the door, and smiled. “Well. From the reception I’ve received from you and your guests, it would appear my reputation is even worse than I feared.”

“Oh, it’s quite awful,” she agreed.

“You’re cross with me about Jacleen,” he said, pushing away from the door.

Caroline gaped at him. Then she laughed. “How astute of you! I can’t believe you would utter her name out loud.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked as he slowly advanced on her, his gaze moving over her. “Her name is Jacleen Bouvan. She is a Weslorian from the mountains that border Alucia.”

Caroline frowned with confusion. Why was he telling her this? What possible reason? Had she been his lover before? Or... Why was he smiling at her? “Did you think I would find it amusing that you took a maid from her gainful employment and...” She stopped talking before she said aloud what she feared he’d done.

“No. Did you think so ill of me that you’d believe I’d find such pleasure with you, then only hours later take advantage of that poor woman?”

Did she think so poorly of him? At the moment, she didn’t want to think of him at all. But if she did think of him, she desperately wanted to think poorly of him. It helped her prepare for his inevitable departure. For his perfidy. “I don’t know, Leopold—are you really so different from any other man?”

He blinked. “I left with Miss Bouvan because she was being used by the duke for a purpose that offended me. I wanted to help her.”

Caroline was prepared to be indignant and make him understand that she knew the nature of men. But she hadn’t expected for him to say what she knew was true—Jacleen was being used. She rubbed her nape. “And, what, then the prince swooped in and saved her?”

He looked surprised by that and glanced away a moment, as if pondering it. “Je, I suppose I did. Caroline, you must believe me—I enjoyed your company far too much to ever sully it with a meaningless tryst.”

Her cheeks began to bloom. She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Did you enjoy it?”

Her blush deepened. Surely it was impolite to ask her. But then he lifted his hand and lay his palm against her neck. “What a question,” she said softly. “You know I did. Very much.”

Leopold’s smile was slow. “And yet, it’s nice to hear you admit it.”

Caroline’s blood was heating with his casual caress, but she was determined to give him no sign of it. “But why? Why you? Why must you be the one to take her from Arundel?”

He shifted closer, his gaze dipping to her lips. “Why not me?”

He bent his head as if to kiss her, but Caroline put her hand on his mouth. “I have two callers waiting in the salon.”

“I won’t linger,” he murmured, and touched his lips to hers.

Caroline’s eyes fluttered shut. His confession wasn’t fitting with the story she’d created for herself, the one where she never forgave him and promptly forgot him. And yet here was her hand sliding up his chest, her head angling to better kiss him. Here she pressed her body against his, her hand snaking up his arm, to his shoulder. She wanted him to seduce her, wanted to feel his hands and his mouth on her skin again.

Unfortunately, somewhere in her heart a bell was clanging, warning her. She had proudly protected her virtue for six and twenty years. She was not going to be swayed by how handsome he was, or that his lips felt like butter against hers. Or that he smelled like cinnamon and clove.

She put her hands on his chest and pushed back. “This isn’t...there is something not...”

“Something not right, I agree,” he finished for her. “About the way you are feeling about me. About the way I am feeling about you. But devil take all if I know what to do about it.”

Caroline’s breath caught. Had he really just said those words to her? Was he really feeling something for her? Did he feel the same light and fluttery feeling that made her want to sit down and snatch her breath back? “When you determine what to do about it, I’ll be delighted to hear it. In the meantime, I should return to my guests. My aunt will come looking for me if I don’t. We are to dine at Sir Walter Debridge’s tonight.”

She moved to pass Leopold, but he caught her hand before she reached the door and twirled her around. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her into him, then cupped her face with his hand. “Caroline.” His eyes darted around her face, and he looked as if he wanted to say more. But he didn’t speak—he kissed her so hard that everything in her began to tingle and all thought flew out of her head other than how much she wanted this man. And then just as abruptly he let her go, leaving her a little dazed by that kiss. “Best wishes for a lovely evening.”

Her skin was sizzling. She forced herself to look down and smooth the lap of her skirt until she could find her breath or a thought that wasn’t lustful. She touched her curls to make sure they were in place and no one would detect what she’d been doing, then finally looked at Leopold. “What are you doing to me?” she whispered.

“I honestly don’t know.”

She sighed. She went out of the salon, but her step was much lighter than it had been going in.

She swept into the salon, beaming at her guests. “There we are—thank you for waiting! Oh dear, look at the time. I’m afraid I’ve made us late. Shall we?”

Ladley looked past her, to Leopold.

Caroline glanced at him. “Oh! I quite forgot,” she blurted. “I invited His Highness to join us this evening. Sir Walter won’t mind, will he?” she asked cheerfully, and very carefully avoided the looks of the others in the room. Including Leopold’s.

Caroline had no idea what she was doing, either. She’d need a hot bath and a glass of wine and perhaps even Hollis nearby to figure it out. She’d gone from despising him, to despair, to suddenly feeling better than she had in days.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

It is a conundrum of the first order when an uninvited guest arrives at the supper hour, as was witnessed recently at the home of a knight of the realm. Some would advise to refuse the uninvited entry with the claim of not having prepared enough food. But sometimes the uninvited is of such superior social standing that it would cause undue talk. In this situation, one is advised to open the doors of hospitality and endure it.

Might we soon hear the wails of a newborn? It has been observed that a woman of High Moral Character married to a Man of the Cloth has had some skirts altered recently in anticipation of that happy event.

Ladies, science suggests that if you do not satisfy your cravings for unusual foods and in great quantities during pregnancy, the deprivation may appear as a birthmark on your child. When with child, eat well and a variety of foods, and don’t give in to those who claim you’ll never regain your figure after birth.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

ONE-HALF OF the Debridges minded very much when Leo appeared quite unexpectedly with Caroline’s party. Not surprisingly, given his reputation of late, it was the female half. In fact, Lady Debridge looked positively stricken when he sheepishly entered the foyer, as if he were an ogre come to eat her children.

On the other hand, Sir Walter was quite happy to have an Alucian prince to dine in his home and crowed to the other guests that he’d also had the German cousin of Prince Albert to dine once, and now could add an Alucian prince to that very short but illustrious list of guests. The man seemed oblivious to the looks many of his guests gave him and neither did he seem to notice his wife’s anger, nor how many people moved to the far end of the drawing room when Leo entered. Instead, Sir Walter very happily and loudly commanded his butler to add another place setting for their unexpected, but certainly very welcome, guest.

Power was everything, Leo knew, and connections were the lifeblood of power.

Lady Debridge retreated straightaway with Lady Hogarth and Caroline. Leo looked around for a friendly face but found none. Even Robert Ladley, whom he’d known for quite a few years now, seemed annoyed by his presence. When Leo attempted to speak to him, Ladley smiled thinly and excused himself.

So in a strange twist of fate, Leo found himself standing apart from everyone else, nursing a glass of port. He pondered how odd it was that his life had taken this turn. Up until the last few weeks, he’d been the one to avoid the attentions of others. Men wanted to befriend him, ladies wanted to sleep with him, others just wanted him to acknowledge them. When he was a child, he could recall standing on the balcony at Constantine Palace, frightened of the massive crowds below. His father would put a hand on his back and push him forward. “Give them what they want,” he would say. Leo had been giving them what they wanted all his life and hiding in the bottom of a bottle to find a quiet place only he could enter.

Vir ingenuus juniperum cadit. The gentleman falls.

He sipped the port and tried not to wrinkle his nose. Port didn’t taste as good as it once had. It no longer held any promise of dulling the tedium and emptiness he often felt. He pretended to sip it and surreptitiously watched Caroline move around the room, entertaining whomever she spoke to.

He could be such an idiot. How could he not have thought her charming from the beginning? How could he not recognize at once how unique she was?

Well, well, Prince Leopold. How remarkable that a few words and a few kisses can alter your judgment so.

He noticed that Caroline made a point to speak to each suitor—or at least those he assumed were her suitors. The viscount was in the company of another attractive young woman, but nevertheless, Caroline spoke to him at length. With so much feminine attention, the viscount, predictably, couldn’t seem to keep the smile from his face.

Caroline conversed with Ladley, too, whose eyes followed her every move like a puppy. And another gentleman, who laughed too loud and too long when she spoke to him.

But eventually, having made the circuit of the room, Caroline ventured back to him, her smile blazingly brilliant. She looked him up and down, then glanced back at the others. “Why do you stand in the corner all alone, Your Highness?”

“I feel a bit out of place. Or rather, I feel this is my place.” He sipped the port. “Dare I ask if you’ve settled on the lucky gentleman you will allow to offer for your hand?”

She turned around and stood beside him and surveyed the room. “No. I think not.”

“No? From my vantage point they seem like good men. And they seem terribly admiring of you.”

“Please,” she drawled with a roll of her eyes. “Do you really believe so? Lord Ladley has known me for ages and never expressed the least bit of interest until recently.”

“Perhaps that’s because he’s come to see you as a grown woman and not Beck’s younger sister,” Leo suggested. He could imagine that every man in attendance tonight would see the woman.

Caroline laughed. “Perhaps.” She turned her glittering gaze to him. “But might it also be that his father has amassed a large debt the family cannot pay, and he would benefit from a large dowry?”

Leo lifted his glass in a mock toast. “Entirely plausible, madam. What of the viscount? Your uncle seems to think his having been to America recommends him well enough.”

She giggled. “Uncle Hogarth is obsessed with all things American. He was there as a boy and hasn’t forgotten a moment of it.” She gazed off in the direction of the viscount. “Ainsley is rather charming.”

“Charming, is he?”

“And handsome, too, wouldn’t you agree?”

He didn’t want to agree, but even he could see the man’s appeal. “Perhaps,” he said grudgingly.

She smiled pertly, then bumped her shoulder into his, like they were old chums. “He put all his money into tobacco,” she whispered.

“I beg your pardon?”

She nodded, her curls bouncing gaily around her face. “Hollis told me all about him. He went to America to make his fortune, taking all the money from his estate that wasn’t otherwise entailed. All of it. Can you imagine? Apparently, he meant to make a fortune in trading tobacco. But his first ship ran aground. The crew was rescued, but the ship was scuttled and the cargo lost. All that investment sitting at the bottom of the ocean.” She shook her head.

“That’s unfortunate,” Leo said sincerely.

“A terrible tragedy that my dowry could possibly repair. Unfortunately for him, as he’s just come back from America, Lady Katherine Maugham, otherwise known as the Peacock—”

“Pardon?” Leo asked, smiling.

“The Peacock. Do try to keep pace, Leopold. Hollis and Eliza and I gave Lady Katherine that name because she is a peacock, always showing her feathers.”

He choked on a laugh. “Isn’t that a bit of the pot calling the kettle black?”

“Well, yes, but I’m genial about it,” she said, her eyes dancing with merriment. “She’s just there, with my aunt, do you see?” she said, nodding to a point across the room.

An attractive woman a head shorter than Caroline was in conversation with her aunt.

“Katherine has set her sights on the viscount, and she will not lose him to me.”

“Is she in a position to decide?”

“You may trust me it would be war if he were to seriously pursue me. Oh! There’s another potential suitor,” she said, leaning slightly forward to look to Leo’s right. “Mr. Bishop. Don’t look.”

Leo turned to look.

“Don’t look!” Caroline said, giggling.

“How am I to know who we are speaking about if I don’t look?”

Caroline stole another look. “All right. But do it quickly. He’s tall and thin with fine blond hair that is thinning on the crown.”

“That describes half the men in London.”

“But only three of the gentlemen here tonight. Now.”

Leo looked. He spotted the man in question and turned back to Caroline. “I’ve spotted him, I’ve seen his thinning hair and his height. What does Mr. Bishop lack as a suitor?”

“Oh, nothing. He’s very kind and has no debts to speak of. Unfortunately, he aspires to the clergy.”

“Oh dear,” Leo said with a smile.

“Exactly,” she whispered. “I can think of no one less suited to being the wife of a vicar than me. Can you?”

“Not a single name comes to mind,” he agreed.

Caroline laughed. “Prince Leopold, I think you know me better than I allow. Look, here comes Lady Debridge. Supper will be served soon. She will have sat you as far from her as possible and say only a lowly footman may serve you.” She winked. “Enjoy your supper, Your Highness,” she chirped, and walked away, pausing to speak to a couple who were bent over an open book.

A moment later, Sir Walter announced supper was served.

Caroline was right—Leo found himself seated at the very end of the table next to Sir Walter and across from Mr. Franzen, a German banker. On Leo’s right was an elderly woman whose name he never could quite decipher. She curled over her food like a question mark.

Caroline was in the middle of the table, surrounded by all the youth and beauty in the room. Or at least it seemed that way from where Leo was sitting. Ladley was on her right, his attention to her every need. On her left, another gentleman Leo had not met but who also seemed captivated by Caroline.

Or maybe it just seemed that way to him because he was captivated by her, too. Perhaps more than all these gentlemen combined. Too captivated. His enchantment had all the signs of potentially getting in the way of his goals and his duties.

He would have been content to sit quietly and contemplate these thoughts, but Sir Walter was very keen to delineate for Leo all the things he’d done in his life, and desiring, apparently, to compare them to experiences Leo might have had. Sir Walter had excelled at archery. Had Leo?

“Ah...well, I was certainly taught the art, but I must admit my brother was better.”

“And riding, sir? I’m sure you are an expert rider. I suspect princes are trained from an early age to ride.”

“I am a passable rider.”

“What of your military service? I myself spent four years in Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. Best four years of my life.”

“Yes,” Leo said. He was bored with this game. “I was four years in the navy.”

“Four years! Admirable, Your Highness,” he said, as if congratulating a boy on the cricket field. “And you’ve been in England now for...how long, is it?”

Leo sipped his wine. “A very long time, as it happens. So long, in fact, that the time has come for me to return to Alucia.”

Mr. Franzen chuckled. “The time does come to put away childish things, does it not?”

Leo didn’t know if this was a comment on the life he’d led in England, or merely an observation, but he could feel the heat rising beneath his collar nonetheless. He used to laugh about his dissolute life, but now it seemed sad to him to be a man of nine and twenty years and have nothing to show for it. He thought about the Weslorian women and what they’d had to endure while he’d lived so carelessly.

“But isn’t it everyone’s duty to marry?” The question, posed by the woman Caroline had dubbed the Peacock, rose above the other conversations, and, curious, Leo looked down the table.

“Why are you asking her?” Lady Debridge asked. “Lady Caroline believes that a lady need not set her sights on marriage until she feels completely at ease with it.” She gave a good roll of her eyes to indicate her apparent opinion of that.

“Lady Debridge,” Sir Walter said. “If that is Lady Caroline’s opinion, she is welcome to it.”

“It may be her opinion, but it’s wrongheaded,” Lady Debridge said. “A woman’s good years are limited, and she must marry sooner rather than later if she is to produce an heir.”

Caroline laughed. “That’s rather my point,” she said. “Why should I marry for the sake of producing heirs if I don’t wish to produce them?”

“Oh Lord,” Lady Hogarth muttered. “Caroline, darling—”

“What are you saying, precisely, Caroline?” the Peacock said, sitting a little straighter.

“I think the topic too indelicate for the supper table?” Sir Walter tried.

“Of course it’s not, Walter,” his wife said. “We’re all adults here, are we not? That is the way of the human race. You marry, you produce heirs and life goes on. Why ever would any young woman of good health and moral standing wish otherwise? Lady Caroline, surely you don’t mean to imply that you don’t want children?”

“Not at all,” she assured Lady Debridge. “Of course I do.”

But the words didn’t match her expression and Leopold rather wondered if she really didn’t want children.

“The truth is that I haven’t given it much thought, as I have not yet found the gentleman with whom I should like to share that blessed event.”

“Darling, look around you,” Lady Debridge said. “There are gentlemen here tonight that would delight in sharing that blessed event with you, I’ve no doubt.”

Several of the guests laughed. Caroline smiled as she looked around. “Such admirable gentlemen, too. But I should hope that a gentleman’s interest in me would extend beyond the size of my fortune.”

There were audible gasps around the table. Leo almost laughed. Once upon a time, he would have led the way in the gasping and gnashing of teeth and the outward display of indignation at her cheek, but this evening, he sat back to enjoy it. The woman refused to guard a single word. He admired her for always being willing to speak the truth.

Even now, she looked around at their shocked faces. “I beg your pardon, have I spoken too bluntly? I probably should not have said what we all know to be true.” She laughed softly.

“Caroline,” her uncle said sternly. “Have a care.”

“I will, Uncle.” She smiled and leaned forward. “But whose feelings am I sparing? If anyone should be offended, it should be me, shouldn’t it?”

“Oh my Lord!” Lady Hogarth said heavenward.

“What you say may be true, Lady Caroline,” the Peacock said. “After all, the only reason anyone in London knows the size of your dowry is that you’ve made certain of it.”

“Not me. But I can’t say the same for my brother.”

Someone at the table chuckled.

“Well, I, for one, have no regard for your dowry, Lady Caroline,” Lord Ladley avowed.

“I should think Prince Leopold has no regard for it, either?” the Peacock said, and cast a smile at Leo. “It must be rather small compared to what he might command.”

Lady Debridge snorted a laugh. “The prince is not a suitor, Katherine.”

“As I said,” Ladley interjected. “I don’t care about the size of your dowry.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Caroline responded.

“For what it’s worth, I agree with Lady Caroline,” the viscount said quietly. “A dowry is an important part of a marriage bargain, and the amount must be taken into consideration. Any gentleman who claims otherwise is fooling himself,” he said, and looked pointedly at Ladley.

“But a dowry is not a substitute for love,” Lady Hogarth pointed out.

“Perhaps not always,” Lord Ainsley said.

Leo could see the amusement in Caroline’s eyes. She enjoyed starting this little fire.

When the meal was concluded and the guests invited to repair to the drawing room, Leo took his leave. He said a quiet good-night and thank you to Sir Walter. He stepped out of the drawing room door and almost collided with Caroline and another woman he’d already forgotten.

“Oh!” Caroline said, smiling up at him. “Are you leaving, then?”

“Je.”

“Excuse me,” the other woman said, and darted into the drawing room.

Caroline watched her flee with a laugh of surprise. “What do you suppose was the meaning of that?” She turned her smile to him again. “I hope you enjoyed yourself this evening, Your Highness.”

He wanted to kiss her. “Immensely.” He wanted to take her by the hand and lead her out of this place. He wanted to take her to his bed and remove her clothing one piece at a time.

“Shall I tell Beck you’ll come around?”

He didn’t answer. He had a sudden burn in his chest. He knew what she did not—that he would leave very soon, and with five women if he could manage it. And when he left, he likely would never return to England. At least not for a very long time. There didn’t seem much point going round to 22 Upper Brook Street again, except to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her so much that his heart was beating like a drum in his chest.

Her smile turned brighter, almost as if she sensed the burning in him.

“I’ll come around. I must if I am going to enlist your help in gaining an invitation to the Pennybackers’ ball.”

“Oh dear. Has your invitation gone missing?” She leaned closer. “Are you a rake?”

“Guilty as charged.”

She laughed. She leaned forward, lifted her chin and murmured, “Find your own way to the Pennybacker ball.” With that, she moved away from him and in the direction of the drawing room. She brushed her fingers against his as she passed, and cast a smile at him over her shoulder before disappearing into the room.

He waited until he couldn’t see her anymore, then made his way to the door and received his hat and cloak from a footman.

Leo felt odd. Like his body didn’t fit his skin. He felt like something was blossoming in him.

He felt like he was falling in love.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

One never knows what the sea wind may carry into London with it, but for a peacock with an eager wish to land a match, it has brought a gentleman who has been away from England’s shores for some time. Whether or not the gentleman desires a match remains to be seen.

Savile Row, a street for the most fashionable of addresses, has added a new clothier for fine gentlemen’s tailoring. Should one’s husband require formal evening wear, one simply must call on Mr. Henry Poole.

Ladies, perfume liberally scented with ambergris will mask the body’s unpleasant odors when the heat begins to rise.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

IN THE WEEKS that followed the bad sea voyage and her terrible illness, Caroline had made some lovely dresses that were so well received that she’d gained a list of names wanting her creations. Dress forms and bolts of cloth and spools of thread filled her sitting room. Beck complained about it, but he stubbornly refused to hear any mention of her opening her own dress shop.

She was actively considering how she might maneuver around him.

“Fine ladies do not engage in trade, Caro,” Beck had huffed. “Leave that sort of thing to Mrs. Honeycutt.”

Caroline hadn’t argued with her brother—she’d learned that sometimes it was better to do and then seek his approval.

Today, on her way to pay her weekly call to Justice Tricklebank, she’d gone down Savile Row to have a look. Why should it be the street of bespoke tailoring only for men? She should very much like to have a dress shop with a lovely window on this street.

The other thing that had happened in those weeks after Eliza’s wedding was Leopold. Oh, but she was a blessed fool for involving herself with him. Had it been Hollis or Eliza in her shoes, she would have strongly cautioned them against getting caught up with someone like him. Well, she had cautioned Eliza, but Eliza had stubbornly followed her heart, and look where that had gotten her.

But Caroline was not Eliza, and Leopold was not his brother, and Caroline knew she was walking on the very edge of a cliff. But she’d meant what she’d said—life was so boring if one didn’t gamble a bit.

On this bright, sun-filled day, she had to swallow down a giggle every time she thought of him. She couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t help anything where he was concerned.

When she reached the judge’s modest home, she fairly leaped from the carriage and jogged up the steps to the door, rapping a staccato burst of eagerness that sent Jack and John, the two terrible terriers, into paroxysms of alert. Their barking sounded like an entire kennel on the other side of the door.

Poppy opened the door. Poppy had been a housemaid since Caroline was a girl and was really more sister than servant. Her face lit with delight, and she threw her arms around Caroline, smashing Jack and John between them as she hugged her tightly. “I thought you’d all but forgotten us! Oh, but we’ve missed you, Lady Caroline. The judge asked about you just yesterday. ‘Has Caro forgotten us,’ he said.”

“How could I ever forget any of you?” Caroline exclaimed as she squatted down to greet the dogs properly with a good scratch behind the ears. “I’ve been terribly busy. So many engagements.” She sighed loudly, as the work of attending soirees and supper parties was as taxing as pulling a plow. “I’ll confess, Poppy,” she said as she gained her feet, “I seem to be in vogue this summer. It’s not unlike my debut. You remember that, don’t you? It seemed as if suitors and callers were falling out of the ceiling rafters.”

“I don’t remember that exactly, no,” Poppy said thoughtfully. “But of course you’re in vogue. Look at you!” She held Caroline’s arms wide to see her gown. “Did you make this dress? It’s stunning.”

“I did indeed. I mean to make you one, too, Poppy. I think a dark red would suit you. But you’ll have to wait until the end of the summer season—the invitations come one after the other,” she said breathlessly as she followed Poppy down the hall.

“It must be so difficult to juggle so many invitations,” Poppy said with genuine sympathy. She’d always been an ardent supporter.

“Thank you, Poppy. No one but you really cares how taxing it all is for me.”

She walked into the drawing room and paused to look around. The room, as familiar to her as her own home, was just as Eliza had left it. There were two well-worn armchairs in the window, with stacks of books and gazettes on a table between them. A settee with lumpy seating from years of use was in the middle of the room. Clocks in various stages of repair sat on the mantel—Eliza had a peculiar hobby of repairing them. Near the door was a small desk stacked with papers and ledgers. The judge’s chair was before the hearth, and next to it, a large basket of yarn on the floor, into which the black cat, Pris, had wedged himself today. The judge liked to knit. It was the thing he could do by feel.

Hollis was here, standing on a footstool at the bookshelves that lined one wall, and appeared to be attempting to tidy them up. Caroline didn’t think it was possible to tidy a room as cluttered as this, but she respected Hollis’s willingness to try.

“Is that Caroline?” the judge asked, putting down his knitting, training his sightless eyes to the middle of the room.

“Yes, Your Honor! It is me, in all my glory, which, today, I don’t mind saying, is quite incomparable,” Caroline said as she sailed across the room and bent to kiss his cheek. “Have you missed me?”

“Almost as much as I miss dear Eliza,” he said, and smiled as he patted her cheek with his hand. “Hollis tells me you have been entertaining a prince of your own.”

“Entertaining him! Certainly not. Avoiding him.” Caroline laughed as she reached for Hollis’s hand to squeeze it.

“Ha!” Hollis said. “Every time I see you you’ve had some encounter with him that you can hardly keep to yourself.”

“I can’t deny it,” Caroline admitted, and ungracefully fell onto her back on the settee, nestling her head against a faded pillow on one end, and stacking her feet on the arm of the settee at the opposite end, letting them fall naturally to the side. “This summer has been a storm of activity, I tell you. I’m exhausted from it all.”

Hollis hopped down from the stool and settled on the floor beside Caroline. “So? What news have you brought us today?”

“Well, I’ve gone and made a terrible mess of things for Beck.”

Hollis laughed with delight. “How grand! I am forever amused when things have been made a terrible mess for Beck.”

“Hollis, don’t be unkind,” the judge said. He’d resumed his knitting, and the cat was trying to catch the line of yarn that went up to his needles. “Beckett Hawke has been very good to you.”

Hollis glanced heavenward. “Yes, of course he has, but that does not change the fundamental fact that he is Beck.”

“Beck wasn’t even there when I made the mess. He’s gone to Four Corners to race the horse he brought from Alucia. Did I tell you? I heard him say he’d wagered one hundred pounds. Can you imagine?”

“I cannot,” the judge said.

“Poppy!” Hollis called out. “Will you bring us some tea, darling?”

They all heard Poppy’s indiscernible reply from some other part of the house.

“All right, tell us,” Hollis urged her.

Caroline turned onto her side and propped her head onto her palm. “Since we returned from Alucia, Beck is determined to see me married. I told him that no one would court me, not really, as I’ve turned down every eligible gentleman in London. Haven’t I, Hollis?”

“I wouldn’t say all of them.”

“Do you know what my brother did? He whispered the size of my dowry to his friends, and suddenly every gentleman with a debt has come to call.”

The judge laughed. “That’s one way to accomplish it.”

Poppy banged into the room with a caddy which carried a tarnished tea service. “All at the ready,” she announced. “Cook has made a new batch of gooseberry jam.”

“Oh, I’ll have some,” the judge said.

“Serve the tea, darling, then take your own and sit,” Hollis said. “Caro is about to tell us all how she’s fended off an unprecedented number of suitors.”

“Do tell!” Poppy said eagerly.

Caroline sat up while Poppy served tea, stroking Pris, the cat, who had made his way onto her lap. And then she proceeded to regale the Tricklebanks about the night she had two gentlemen callers and a third unexpected one, and how they’d all trooped off to the Debridge supper, where she had announced she wanted a suitor to find his interest in her, and not the size of her dowry.

“My God, you didn’t,” Hollis said with an expression that could be construed as either horrified or admiring.

“I did. Why not? It was true and everyone knew it, including the peacock Katherine Maugham. And do you know the only person who was not shocked by what I said?”

“Who?” Hollis asked.

“Prince Leopold, that’s who. He laughed.”

Hollis giggled. “Papa, I wish you could see how sparkly Caro is just now. At every mention of the prince, another spark shoots right off of her,” she said, squeezing Caroline’s knee. “She’s in love with him.”

Poppy gasped. “Another royal wedding!”

“Good Lord, not another one,” the judge moaned.

“Rest assured there won’t be another one,” Caroline said confidently, even if the mention of it sent a wave of shivers down her spine, just like those she’d felt at Eliza’s wedding.

“Why not?” Hollis asked. “It’s a lovely fairy tale dream to be an ordinary person and be swept off your feet by a true prince.”

“It is indeed a fairy tale, which is precisely why nothing will ever come of it. But I don’t mind, really. It’s been quite a lot of fun, and honestly, the reality hasn’t kept me from kissing him.”

Poppy and Hollis squealed at the same time.

“Heaven help you, Caroline Hawke!” the judge said disapprovingly over their shrieks of delight. “That sort of talk will see you ostracized from the very society you love to rule!”

Caroline laughed. “I haven’t yet gone out into the square and announced it, Your Honor. And really, is it so terrible? Men and women do share kisses. I’ve seen it happen time and again. I saw Lady Munro kiss Mr. Richard Williams at Kew Gardens just before we departed for Helenamar.”

“What? And you’re only telling me this now?” Hollis exclaimed.

“My point, if you will hear it, is that sort of affection should be reserved for husband and wife,” the judge said sternly. “Or at the very least, if you cannot contain your lust until you are married, for the gentleman who is to be your husband. What would Lord Hawke say to this?”

“He’d lock me away. For God’s sake, we must all swear to never tell him!” Caroline said, laughing.

“But...but aren’t you concerned about the maids, Caro?” Hollis asked.

“What maids?” the judge asked.

“Prince Leopold is notorious for a rather untoward preference for housemaids.”

“What?” Poppy exclaimed.

Hollis sighed. “Does no one in this house read my gazette? Did you not hear what happened in Arundel with the Norfolk maid?”

“No! Tell us!” Poppy said, inching forward on her seat.

“Hollis! You make it sound dreadful,” Caroline said. “The prince explained it to me. Norfolk was the one who was behaving badly. He was visiting the poor thing at night, if you take my meaning, and showering her with the sort of affections she did not want. And the prince, well...he helped her to escape. She was a Weslorian and I think he felt obliged.”

“Why would he feel obliged to help a Weslorian?” the judge asked.

“Well...” Caroline started, but paused. She didn’t quite know why.

“What did he do with her?” Hollis asked.

“What do you mean?”

“If he helped her to escape, what did he do with her? Where is she now?”

Caroline didn’t know the answer to this, either. She’d been so ready to accept his explanation so she’d not have to think poorly of him. “I...I really don’t know.” Her sparkle was rapidly dimming. What had he done with her? And the other one?

“Caro, you’d do well to keep your distance. Who knows what the man is about, really,” the judge cautioned her.

“Don’t look so distressed, darling. I didn’t mean to intrude on your joy in being the one and only Caroline Hawke,” Hollis said cheerfully. “Tell us, what’s next on your social calendar?”

“Oh, the, ah...the Pennybacker ball next week.” At the mention of the ball, she rallied out of her disappointment. “I have a new dress. The blue one, Hollis, remember?”

“It’s beautiful. I intend to wear the same dress I wore to Eliza’s ball—Oh! I nearly forgot. We’ve a letter from Eliza.” She went to the desk to fetch it and handed it to Caroline to read.

My dearest beloveds, I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. Papa, have you taken the willow-bark tea, and did it help the pain in your fingers? The queen swears it has reversed her own pain and sends her best wishes for you.

My husband and I have been at Tannymeade long enough that it is beginning to feel a bit like home. I have a dog now, a very big one. His head comes just under my hand, and there he keeps it most of the day. I’ve named him Bru, which in Alucian means loyal. It is quite beautiful here, but I will confess the ocean smells terribly briny in the afternoons and I have asked for the windows to be shut against the stench. It leaves us feeling too warm, but my prince has assured me that when the season turns to autumn, the smell will dissipate. Speaking of my husband, we’ve been trying diligently for an heir, and with God’s blessing, we might report happy news very soon.

News has reached us of Prince Leopold’s bad behavior, and the duke frets over him most days. He shall see his brother soon enough, I expect, as he said the king has sent word he is to return to Alucia at once.

The Alucians are very fond of their eel and dine on it at least twice a week. I can scarcely tolerate it, and one night, I grew so green when I saw it that my husband demanded they bring onion soup straightaway. The master of the kitchens has been terribly apologetic, and has attempted to serve that foul beast in different dishes, but alas, it does no good. I can’t tolerate it. I assured the poor man that I will delight in anything he prepares, save that wretched eel.

Eliza continued on about Tannymeade, and a clock she’d found in one of the staterooms that was not working properly, and how everyone around her had twittered with unease when she insisted she would like to fix it. She reported that the clock now resided in her dressing room, and she was spending her spare time in the repair of it. There was more, but for once Caroline did not hang on Eliza’s every word. The words relaying the message that they knew of Leopold’s “bad behavior” and the king had sent for him danced before her eyes.

When Caroline finally took her leave, she grew steadily despondent in the carriage ride home. She wasn’t ready for him to leave, in spite of all the questions about him. What a strange, perplexing feeling it was to have doubts and questions about a person and still desire them. But when she thought of his leaving, the doubts gave way to complete despair. How would her life be then? What would amuse her? And how could she ever hope to look at another gentleman and feel the same sort of excitement and anticipation she did when he was near?

Caroline was such a fool. She’d known since Eliza’s wedding that it would lead nowhere, and after his treatment of her in Helenamar, she hadn’t even liked him very much. But oh, how she’d kept at it until she did like him. Until she loved him. And she did love him, she could feel it deep in her bones.

The truth was that she’d be desperately wounded when he left and she’d be forced to marry a stranger and pretend to esteem him and wish every waking day that that stranger was Leopold.

It was the most dreadful fate she could imagine.

Caroline was so lost in thought that she didn’t really notice the two gentlemen standing outside her home when she disembarked from the carriage. She smiled and nodded and moved to pass them on her way to the gate of her house. But then one of them said, “Lady Caroline?”

She paused and glanced back at them. “Yes?”

“Mr. Drummond, at your service,” said one. He looked like someone’s kindly grandfather, tall and stately. He touched the brim of his hat as he handed her a calling card. She looked at the inscription. The gentleman was from the foreign secretary’s office. She frowned with confusion and glanced up.

Mr. Drummond’s smile turned kinder. “Oh—this is Mr. Pritchard,” he said, nodding to the silent man behind him. “Same office.”

She stared at them, trying to understand this intrusion.

Mr. Drummond stepped forward. “If you would be so kind as to indulge us, Lady Caroline?”

“Shouldn’t you speak with my brother?”

“Oh, undoubtedly. But we would like a word with you, as well.”

Caroline’s pulse began to race. She glanced uneasily toward the gate.

“We could speak here, if you like. It won’t take a moment. We should like to ask a few questions about an acquaintance of yours.”

“Who?”

“His Royal Highness Prince Leopold of Alucia.”

Caroline was stunned that she gave no reaction to his name at all, because in her mind, she shrieked and fell back against the gate. She didn’t know what this was about, but she was certain she didn’t want to have this conversation. “What of him?”

“An...accusation has been made against him.”

Good God, what had he done now?

“It’s a bit complicated, but to put it succinctly, there is some suspicion that the prince might be plotting with the Weslorians. With his uncle Felix, specifically.”

She had no idea who they were talking about. Who was his uncle Felix? Plotting what? Oh, how she’d wished she’d listened more carefully to Hollis on the voyage to Helenamar, when she’d tried in vain to educate Caroline about the history of Alucia.

“His uncle is the half brother of his father the king. I am sure you are aware of the rift between the brothers?”

She did know something about that, but at the moment, she could hardly say what.

“Recently, here in England, we’ve uncovered a plot by the prince’s uncle in Wesloria to dethrone the prince’s father. You may recall the unfortunate murder of an Alucian gentleman last year?”

Caroline stared at this man in disbelief. Of course she remembered it. “Yes.”

“There is some...speculation that Prince Leopold has aligned with his uncle.”

“Impossible,” Caroline said immediately.

“Oh, I should think so,” Mr. Drummond agreed, all too readily. “But so that we may end any speculation, might we ask you a question or two?”

Caroline’s head was spinning wildly. The maid in Arundel was Weslorian. But what could a Weslorian maid possibly have to do with this?

“Lady Caroline?”

She started.

“Have you known the prince to have met with or mentioned any Weslorian nationals?”

Caroline slowly shook her head.

“No one? A woman, perhaps?”

Her pulse was racing so quickly now that she couldn’t seem to breathe. She shook her head again.

Mr. Drummond was still smiling his grandfatherly smile and stepped closer. “If I may, Lady Caroline...this plot, if it exists, could have far-reaching implications for England, and especially for the Duchess of Tannymeade.”

Caroline’s breath caught. “What? How?”

“Imagine if there were to be a coup in that country. How do you think the rebels would treat the duchess?”

Caroline gasped softly. She slowly lifted her hand and gripped the gate handle to steady herself.

“Do you think you might keep an open ear to his conversations? We’ve noted that he calls here more than any other house.”

A cold shiver radiated through Caroline. What else had they noted? Were they looking in windows?

“If you could see what you might learn for us?” he asked, smiling in that strange, grandfatherly way, while his eyes remained as hard as flint. “Think of it as helping the duchess.”

Caroline could hardly get a breath. This was all so confusing and alarming...but she knew when she was being manipulated and whirled about to the gate. She fumbled with it, fearing they would try to stop her, perhaps even attempt to take her with them. She managed to get through the gate and closed it resoundingly shut behind her.

The two men hadn’t moved from their spot on the sidewalk. Mr. Drummond tipped his hat again.

Caroline ran up the steps and into the house. She closed the door and pressed her back to it, breathing deeply, her hand to her chest, then two hands to her face as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

What they said wasn’t possible. She could believe many things about Leopold Chartier, but she would not believe for a moment this was true. He was a lothario, but he was not a traitor.

But what of the maid? Was it really mere coincidence she was Weslorian?

What if it wasn’t coincidence at all?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Sources report that a summons from King Karl of Alucia for his son to return home has been delivered to the prince. Those with knowledge of the situation expect the prince will depart London in less than a fortnight.

The repercussions from the ventures of a rail enthusiast continue to be felt across London. Some of the gentleman’s investors have lost as much as two hundred pounds in the scheme.

Married ladies with fragile constitutions who wish to prevent a rapid increase in the growth of her family may consult Madam Bessor of Greenwich Street, a female physician, for a preventive powder.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

BECKETT HAWKE HAD apparently determined he wanted to maintain his friendship with Leo, as he sent word to the Clarendon Hotel asking him to come round for tea that afternoon. Leo was relieved. He enjoyed his friendship with Beck and didn’t want to lose it over the incident at Arundel. But moreover, he was desperate to have an excuse to see Caroline.

Leo had enough to keep him occupied what with his imminent departure to Alucia. He had noticed in the course of preparations that Josef, Kadro, Artur and Freddar all seemed quite eager to go. Of course they were—these men were not Britons. They were Alucians, and they wanted to go home.

Leo was not eager to go for obvious reasons. Three things kept him up at night: One, that he hadn’t found a way into the Pennybacker house to find Rasa. Two, that he still didn’t know where Nina or Eowyn were. And three, he could hardly bear the thought of leaving Caroline.

It really had come down to this—of all that he loved about England, she was the thing, the person, the feeling he would miss the most. He desperately needed to steal a few moments with her. He desperately needed to kiss her again.

But first, he had decided to pay a visit to the ladies he had tucked away at Cressidian’s and probe their memories. Hopefully, one of them might remember something that would help him find Eowyn or Nina.

He sent word to Cressidian in advance of his departure that he intended to call.

But when he arrived at the Mayfair mansion, the butler coolly informed him in Alucian that his master had gone out for the day. Leo was taken aback by that news. He would think that the gentleman would accommodate his prince. Would accommodate the man who had paid him to see after the ladies. “I should like to see the maids, then,” he said flatly.

The butler’s eyes widened slightly. “I beg your pardon, Highness, but—”

“But,” Leo quickly interjected and stepped into the doorway, crowding the smaller man, “I am your prince, sir, and you will allow me to see the Weslorian women who are housed here. Assemble them at once.” And then he pushed past the man and strode into Cressidian’s house. Like a bloody prince, thank you.

The women and one lad assembled in a small room near the back of the house that looked to be used by servants, judging by the mean furnishings. None of the rich upholsteries or fine rugs or marble or gold seen in the public parts of the house were evident here. They had a plain wood floor, a long table with six wooden chairs and two more before the hearth. The women entered in service clothes, which Leo didn’t like. He’d paid for their keep. They didn’t need to work for it.

With his hands on his hips, he surveyed the three of them. Isidora and Jacleen stood side by side, and the boy before Jacleen, her arms securely around him. The three of them viewed him warily, which Leo found disconcerting—he had rescued them, after all. Did they think he was like the men who had bartered and sold them?

He sighed. He pushed his fingers through his hair. “There is no need to look at me like that,” he said, gesturing at them. “What are you afraid of?”

Isidora and Jacleen exchanged a glance. Isidora stepped forward. She cleared her throat and ran her hands down the sides of her skirt. “Your Highness,” she said in Weslorian, “may we inquire...what you mean to do with us? Mr. Cressidian doesn’t want us here, and he said...” She paused and glanced at Jacleen and her brother. Jacleen nodded, encouraging her. “He said you mean to take us to Alucia.”

She did not seem to be pleased with the prospect, but seemed rather alarmed. “Don’t you want to go home, then?” he asked.

She bit her lip. “There’s no work in Wesloria, Your Highness. Our families...they won’t have the money to return.”

“Your families will not need to return the money. After you speak against the men that did this, you—”

Jacleen gasped so loudly that she startled Leo. She and the lad and Isidora were suddenly talking at once—to each other, to him—in Weslorian and broken Alucian and English. The cacophony of voices was reaching a fevered pitch, and he threw up his hands and demanded they stop. “All right, then,” he said when he lowered his hands. “One at a time, if you please. What is it that causes you distress?” He pointed at Jacleen.

She gripped her brother’s shoulders before her. “We don’t want to speak out.”

“Why not?”

“They will kill us.”

He recoiled at that. “Who will kill you?”

“The men who done this,” Isidora said.

“They said they’d kill us if we told the truth,” the boy said.

“What? What is your name there, lad?” Leo asked.

“Bobbin,” he said softly.

“Bobbin, they will not kill you,” Leo said. But the two women started talking to him at once. “Ladies!” he said loudly. “Have you no faith in me? In my word?”

Isidora steadily held his gaze, but Jacleen looked to the floor. And Bobbin looked frantically at his sister. How old was he? Seven? Eight?

“So that’s the way of it,” Leo said flatly, inexplicably annoyed with them. “I am a prince of Alucia. Has that escaped your attention? I have a certain amount of power and integrity.”

“But...but what can you do, milord?” asked Isidora. “If we speak, they’ll send us home and they’ll find us there. They’ll find our families—”

“No,” Leo said firmly, holding up a hand. “They will not.” God, he hoped he was right about this. “Is this the life you want?” he asked Jacleen. “Is this what you want for your Bobbin? I thought you were relieved to flee Arundel.”

She flushed. “Aye,” she whispered, and wrapped a protective arm around the boy.

“And you, Isidora? Were you not relieved to leave Mrs. Mansfield’s den?”

She quickly nodded her head and took a small step backward.

“More important, ladies, do you want other young women—or children,” he added, gesturing to Bobbin, “to discover what awaits them in England?”

“No,” Isidora muttered.

Leo rubbed his nape. He looked at them again and said solemnly, “I understand. I know I’m not the prince you want to come to your rescue. I am not a hero. And I have a certain reputation that should not recommend me to any part of society.”

Jacleen nodded along as if that was fact.

“But you have my word that you and your families will be protected. If you don’t believe me, then believe my brother.”

Isidora perked up. “Prince Sebastian?”

“Je, Prince Sebastian,” Leo said. “He will assure you are all protected. But you must help me. What has happened to you is an abomination, and those responsible must be held accountable. Such a despicable practice can’t be allowed to continue, and the only way to end it is to bring down the men who have arranged it. We, my brother and I, will need your cooperation.”

The women looked at each other.

“Do we have it?” Leo asked.

“Aye, Your Highness,” Isidora said, and looked starkly at the other two, as if daring one of them to argue.

After a suitable amount of silence, Leo nodded. “But I must find a way to free Rasa, and even then, we won’t leave without Eowyn and Nina. How do I find them?”

“Mrs. Brown,” Jacleen said.

“Who is Mrs. Brown?”

“The cook, Your Highness.”

“Whose cook?” Leo asked, confused.

“She’s the cook here, Highness. She’s the one who readies them to send.”

A wave of nausea went through Leo before he even understood. Something in the back of his mind told him he was the biggest fool to have ever lived. “What, here? Mrs. Brown readies women from Wesloria—”

“And Alucia,” Isidora interjected.

“And Alucia?” he asked, in spite of the answer already forming in his head. “When you say she readies them...”

“To be sold,” Jacleen said flatly.

Leo felt himself sinking down onto a chair at the table. He stared at them in disbelief. “Are you telling me, then, that women who have been sold to English gentlemen come through this house?”

The women stared at him. Isidora said, “We thought you knew. You brought us back here. We thought...” She looked at Jacleen. “We thought we were to be sold again.”

Cressidian, that bloody bastard. No wonder he was as rich as he was—he was a double-dealing scoundrel. Leo suddenly saw it all very clearly—the women, sold by their parents, were brought here, where Cressidian sent them out to the homes of influential gentlemen in exchange for a friendly vote or what have you. And Leo, the hero in this tale, had brought them right back into the place that had sold them to begin with.

He wasn’t a knight in shining armor to them—he was just another man who would use them.

“Well then,” he said. “We need to get you out of here, don’t we? Ladies, Bobbin, gather what things you have. We’re leaving.”

“Where are we going?” Jacleen asked.

Leo laughed wryly to the ceiling. “An excellent question. I haven’t quite worked it out yet, but you’ll not stay another moment in this house.”

IT WAS SURPRISINGLY easy to leave with the women. The butler seemed unfazed when Artur and Kadro entered the house and escorted the two women and the boy out to the waiting coach. Leo joined them in the coach and sat on the bench opposite the two women and the boy squeezed onto one bench. He thought about pointing out they’d be more comfortable if one of them sat next to him, but he had a feeling that none of them wanted to be very close to him.

He didn’t blame them. Men like him must haunt their dreams now.

“Where to, Highness?” Artur asked through the open door.

Leo needed time to think. He looked at Bobbin. “Have you seen the park? No? You should.” He instructed Artur to drive them around Hyde Park while he frantically thought what to do.

But after two trips around the park, and another half hour where he commanded the carriage be brought to a halt and had all of them step out and take some air, Leo had no better idea what to do with them.

It was likewise clear that Isidora and Jacleen knew he had no idea what to do. They kept exchanging glances, then leaning forward to look out the window, as if trying to find their bearings. They were thinking of escape.

“Don’t fret,” he said softly. He needed help. He knew only one person whom he might trust to help him. He pulled down the trap door that covered a funnel that went up to the driver’s box. “Twenty-two Upper Brook Street,” he commanded.

When the coach pulled up in front of the mansion, Leo told the women to wait. “It might a bit of a wait, I’m afraid, but please, do not leave this coach.”

Isidora nodded, and he hoped that meant they had agreed to give him a chance.

He asked Kadro to see to it that no one left the coach, before walking up to the front door.

Leo was not himself. It was as if part of his brain was trying to wrangle all the facts and place them into a semblance of order, while another part of his brain attempted to look reasonable and present and, most important, not hapless or frantic. It was the frantic that had him feeling at sixes and sevens.

But when he walked into the salon and saw Caroline sitting on the settee in a cloud of cream and white, another part of his brain pushed the rest of it aside. His heart quickened and he felt relief.

Caroline stood and gave him a tight smile as she curtsied. She seemed guarded. Uncertain.

It was then that he noticed Beck, who stood from behind a desk and came striding forward, his hand extended. “Your Royal Highness Prince Leopold,” he said jovially. “Garrett, we’ll have that tea, then. Leo, you are looking well!”

“Thank you—”

“You’ve come just in time. I’ve been returned to London only a day, and this one,” he said, gesturing at his sister, “has just now graced me with her presence.”

Caroline said nothing and resumed her seat.

“She’s not speaking because she knows that, for one, I’ve seen invoices for more bolts of cloth,” Beck said. “Why is it that ladies will not be satisfied with a pair of serviceable dresses?” he complained. “And two, that I’ve heard what occurred at the Debridges’ while I was away.”

Perhaps that was the reason she appeared so chary.

“Leo, whisky?” Beck asked, and Leo realized that he’d been gazing at Caroline and hadn’t noticed that Beck had moved to the sideboard.

“Pardon? No, thank you,” Leo said.

“No? What has happened to you, man?” He poured himself a generous whisky, then turned to face the two of them again, Caroline on the settee, Leo still standing just inside the door. Beck pointed his glass at Caroline and said to Leo, “She’s spurned my friend Ladley.”

Caroline frowned at her brother. “I warned you.”

“But I don’t see why. He’s a good man. You can’t keep turning away all the good men, Caro,” Beck said impatiently, and to Leo, “Can you imagine, Leo, what our poor parents would say if they knew I’d allowed her to remain unmarried for so long?”

“Allowed me?”

Leo didn’t have time for the bickering, and apparently neither did Caroline. She suddenly stood and went to the window to peer out. She seemed unusually restless.

Beck looked at her and shrugged, then turned his attention to Leo. “You, my friend, missed a spectacular horse race,” he said, and launched eagerly into telling Leo of how his Alucian racehorse had performed at Four Corners. The telling took some time, however, as Hawke was determined not to leave out a single detail. Leo made all the appropriate remarks, but he realized that he wasn’t listening at all. The butler wheeled in the tea, and Beck craned his neck to see around him, still talking. Tea was served, and Leo realized he was gripping one hand tighter and tighter until he had a fist worthy of a blow to Beck’s mouth if he didn’t stop talking.

“Caro, the tea,” Beck reminded her, and Caroline came back from the window and accepted a cup from Garrett.

“I’ve the race results,” Hawke said, and patted down his chest, as if he’d pinned them there. “Where are they? They must be in the study. Excuse me,” he said, and strode out of the salon.

Leo put down his teacup and looked at Caroline. “What is the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, clearly.”

She glanced across the room. Garrett was standing patiently at the door. “I need to talk to you,” she said softly.

“And I desperately need to talk to you,” he murmured.

“Here they are!” Beck had returned and was waving a piece of paper in his hand. “You’ll be as proud when you see how the Alucian horse fared.” He sat next to Leo and proceeded to go over the race times of all the horses entered in the race.

Caroline put down her teacup. “Beck, darling, aren’t you forgetting? You’re to dine with Lord Ainsley this evening and ascertain if he intends to offer for my hand.”

Beck started. “Good Lord, I am. Thank you, Caro. Leo, will you please excuse me?” he said. “The time got away from me. My apologies, Leo. I got a bit carried away. Caro, you’ll see the prince out, will you?” Beck asked as he came to his feet.

“Garrett!” Beck called, striding from the room. “Send Jones to me! I don’t want to be late!”

When he’d gone, and the butler with him, Caroline said, “Have you ever in your life known someone more obsessed with horses?” She abruptly stood from the settee and went to the window.

Leo did, too. He didn’t know how to broach this delicate situation with her. “Looking for someone?” he asked, peering out the window. He could just see the top of his coach.

Caroline turned around and leaned up against the window frame.

“Caroline, I—”

“May I ask you something?” she interrupted.

“Je, of course.”

“I’ve heard you’re returning to Alucia quite soon. Is that true?”

He’d long since learned not to question how things were known about him. They simply were. “Who told you so?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, but I—”

“Is it true?”

He stared into her shining green eyes and tried to find words. There were so many bloody emotions bubbling in him. Emotions he needed a drink to dull, but alas, had foregone the opportunity. “Je. It can’t be avoided.”

Something flickered in her eyes. It was like the flame of a candle sputtering out.

“You knew I would return eventually.”

“Yes. But I thought it would be the end of summer.” She bit her lip and looked down at the floor.

Her reaction was disconcerting. There was one thing about Caroline Hawke he could entirely depend upon—she was not afraid to let him know exactly where she stood or what she thought. She never looked sad. Leo dipped his head to see her face. “I will mourn you. Every day.”

She glanced up.

“You don’t believe me? Oh, but I will mourn you more than you know, Caroline. I’ve come to depend on your company.”

“Really?” Caroline asked softly. There was a different light in her eyes now. They were both dull and shiny. She was looking at him through unshed tears.

“Very much,” he said earnestly and shifted closer to her.

“May I ask you something else?”

Je, I love you, Caroline. I love you. “Ask me anything. What is it you want to know?”

“Don’t lie to me, I beg you. Do you plot with the Weslorians to overthrow your father?”

He couldn’t have been more stunned than if she’d slapped him. “W-what?”

“Are they spies? Have they come here to plot with you? For the life of me, I don’t understand, and I’ve tried, but nothing makes sense.”

“Has who come? What spies? What the devil are you talking about?”

“The maids!” she whispered loudly, and looked toward the open door.

He stared at her, trying to make sense of this. “Are you asking me if the maids are spies? That is absurd.”

“Then why, Leopold? What have you done with them? They’re Weslorian, aren’t they? And you took them and where are they now?”

He blanched as all plausible explanations went out of his head. Bloody hell, he wished for a vat of whisky just now. Something to dull this discomfort. But he was not that man anymore. He hadn’t been that man since he met Lysander in the garden. “I will admit to being many things, but I am not a traitor. Christ Almighty, you think I’d plot to overthrow my own father?”

“Then please explain it to me,” she begged him.

Leo was torn by this request—he did love Caroline, and he wanted to protect her from knowing what evil there was in this world. She was light, she was happiness and he would prefer the ugliness not touch her. But it was more than that. He didn’t want her to look at him with pity. To see what he suspected she and everyone else knew—that he was a prince with no true talent other than drinking. That he was on a mission that was impossible for someone like him. That he was so bad at it that he now had to ask for her considerable help.

But his reluctance to speak caused her to jump to conclusions of her own. “Dear God, it’s worse than I thought.”

“No, Caroline, no,” he said, lifting his head. “The women—girls, really, these maids—are not spies. They are slaves. And I’ve been trying—bungling, really—to free them.”

She stared at him. “Slaves?”

Leo nodded.

“Where are they?”

“At present, they are just outside, in the coach.”

Her mouth parted with her shock. “Here?”

He put his hand on her elbow. “Please sit and allow me to explain.”

He told her everything. It felt good to say it to someone, to tell another living soul how he’d been waylaid in Helenamar, then given this list of names. To describe how difficult it had been for him to find these women quite on his own. That as a prince, he wasn’t inconspicuous. And that as a prince, he’d discovered he was ignorant of the ways of the world. He told her how he’d made such a mess of things that he’d bought a castle, was paying blackmail to an Alucian businessman who had double-crossed him, had exposed an old friend for the scoundrel he was, and had rescued, quite unexpectedly, a young boy along with the women.

And of course, the crowning detail—that the Weslorian gentleman involved in this scheme was his future father-in-law.

Caroline had turned pale by the time he’d finished. “What are you going to do?”

“I plan to take the Weslorian women to Helenamar with me and have them speak out against the men who did this to them.”

“But what about your engagement? Won’t your father be angry?”

His father would be livid, of that, Leo was certain. “Possibly. Probably. I don’t know what all will happen, Caroline. All I know is that I am determined to take these women to Alucia and have them speak against the men who had bought and sold them for political favors. I intend to expose them, the consequences be damned.”

She stared at him for a long moment, and then her eyes began to well with tears.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

“Those poor women. And you, Leopold. What a noble thing you’re doing, and yet everyone thinks...they assume...”

“I know what they assume. I’m not noble, I happen to be in a unique position, that’s all. Do you believe me?”

“I do.” She sniffed back a tear. “The Duchess of Norfolk told me about her husband. I never dreamed there were more women like that poor girl. But Leopold, what of your reputation? It’s all but ruined, and I...oh Lord, how I regret it! I helped it along. I gave Hollis gossip to print—”

He squeezed her hand. “Darling Caroline, think nothing of it. My reputation was not a grand one to begin.”

She shook her head and looked away from him for a moment. “You said there are more women?”

He nodded. “I know of one in the Pennybacker house. The other two... I’ve not yet discovered where they’ve gone.”

Caroline gasped. She squeezed his hand. “You must attend the Pennybacker ball, Leopold. That was all my doing, and I will undo it. Nancy Pennybacker can be persuaded, I am certain. Leave it to me. You will accompany Beck and me. Beck swears he won’t attend, that balls are a colossal waste of time, but I know he will if you come.”

“Caroline...” Leopold was so moved in that moment, that she would want to help him in this, that he leaned across the space between them, put his hand to her nape and kissed her.

She pushed back. “Garrett—”

“God help me, but I can’t help myself. I will mourn you when I go, Caroline. You have...you have enlightened me. Shown me what it is to live freely in one’s skin. You have made me feel things I’ve never felt—”

“Leopold, there’s more,” she said quickly. “You’re being followed.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Mayfair is abuzz with anticipation for the Pennybacker ball. No expense has been spared, and curiously, the invitation list has recently been expanded by one noble name. Even more curious is that the expansion occurred the morning after the select list of invitees for a supper at the home of Lord Farrington were delivered. There is no explanation for this change, but we all know that rivalries die hard.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

AMAZINGLY, LEO DIDN’T ask who was following him or why right away. He sighed wearily, as if this was not completely unexpected.

Caroline got up and hurried to the door to the drawing room. She looked out into the hall, then quietly shut the door.

“What—”

She put a finger to her lips, listening for footfall in the hallway. When she heard none, she breathed, and went back to the settee and sat next to Leo. “They were gentlemen from the foreign secretary’s office. They asked me to...to keep an eye, really, and said there was reason to believe you were plotting with your uncle to overthrow your father.”

Leo drew a breath that flared his nostrils. “Bloody hell.”

“I can fend them off,” she said confidently.

He snapped his gaze to hers, alarmed. “These are not parlor games, love. You must tell Beck.”

“Are you mad? He’d not let me out of his sight, much less allow me to attend the Pennybacker ball. Listen, we haven’t any time to spare. I must call on Nancy Pennybacker and gain you an invitation—”

He suddenly wrapped his arms around her and drew her into his chest, cupping the back of her head and pressing it against his shoulder. “For God’s sake, don’t do anything. I told you about the girls only because I wanted you to understand—not to involve you. I love you, Caroline. I would never put you in harm’s way.”

Caroline gasped. She pushed out of his embrace, with a strength born from a sudden and wild mix of emotions. Had he really just confessed his love for her? And did he really think she would be so easily put off? She took his face in her hands and made him look at her. “I am going to help you, Leopold, and you can’t command me to do otherwise. I am the only one who can help you.”

He caressed her earlobe with his thumb. “You’re right. I came here because I need your help. In fact you are the only one who can help me, the only one I can trust. I need to hide them.”

That was not the sort of help she had in mind. “Where? Here?”

“It’s better than the Clarendon Hotel. Can you imagine the speculation?”

Oh, but she could. “Not here,” she said, her thoughts churning. “Beck—”

“Je, of course,” Leo sighed and bowed his head. “I knew it was asking too much, but thought it worth the chance.”

“Not here. Hollis’s house.”

Leo’s head snapped up. “I won’t involve her, either, Caroline.”

“You can’t take them there, obviously, but perhaps you could send them with one of your guards?”

“Caroline! Hollis Honeycutt knows nothing about this. I won’t do it.”

“You won’t, but I will,” Caroline said. “Hollis will help in any way that she can. And she will because I ask her, Leopold. She loves me as I love her.”

He looked as if he wanted to argue. But he didn’t. He said, “As God as my witness, I have done nothing in my life to deserve you. I do love you.”

He couldn’t possibly know what those words meant to her—more than life itself in that moment. But they were almost too painful to hear. She couldn’t bear to hear him confess his love, then set sail for a marriage in Alucia. “Don’t say that,” she whispered. “Please don’t say that.”

He didn’t say it again. He pulled her to him and kissed her. It felt to Caroline as if the room closed around them, shielding them from the world. She could feel an eruption at the core of her with all the yearning she’d felt for him since that night in Chichester, a tiny volcano of want and need and hope. That was the first time she’d really noticed how handsome he was, how tall he stood, how finely he dressed, how his smile seemed to radiate from somewhere inside him. And then all the yearning she’d had the day Eliza married, when she’d seen him standing so regally beside his brother.

And in these last few weeks, all the yearning she’d suffered every time he’d touched her or kissed her. His lips were the beacon, his warmth the shelter, his strength the fence around them. Here she was again, aroused by all those feelings for him, his lips banishing any doubt or concern or fear in her. Everything faded away but the two of them, and the only thing that remained was a deep desire to hold him and love him. She desperately wanted to love him.

Her arousal scorched her blood. She pressed against him, into the hard planes and angles of his body. She touched the corner of his mouth with her fingers, angled her head so that she could deepen this kiss between them. She could feel his arousal, could feel the tension of his desire in the taut way he held his body, in the restraint that radiated from him.

He held her tightly to him, and part of her hoped he never let go. She hoped they never left this room, never ended this kiss. But Leo did end it. He nipped at her lips, kissed her cheek, her forehead, then lifted his head. “Caroline, mang leift, my love, we can’t continue this,” he whispered. “I have three poor souls waiting for me.”

Everything in her hummed. The caress of his voice, his hand...but she nodded. Her body was pulsing and wet and she felt like she could explode with a single touch, and she couldn’t let that happen.

But neither did she want it to end. Because the moment they opened that door, it could very well be the last time he touched her.

Leo stood up and held out his hand to her to help her to her feet. He kissed her once more, this time with particular tenderness. “It would be the end of you and possibly the death of me if anyone of your household was to find us like this,” he whispered. He dropped his hands and stepped away and walked to the door. He glanced back at her, his gaze full of longing. “Tonight? Eight o’clock?”

Caroline nodded. And then she pressed her hands against her belly and watched him walk out the door.

When he’d gone, she stared up at the ceiling and the papier-mâché scrolls there, blinking back tears. She didn’t hear Garrett come in until he spoke.

“Madam?”

Caroline was a master at recovery, she discovered. “Ah, Garrett, there you are. A cloak please. I’m going round to call on Hollis, and I won’t be home for supper.”

She knew herself well enough to know that she was in desperate trouble. Her heart was headed for collision with reality, and it was going to shatter into pieces very soon, because Hollis was right—she loved Leopold. And now he was going to ruin everything by being a good man.

Her heart would be irreparably broken, she was certain of it. But until the moment of its death, there was nothing to be done for it—she had to help him.

A DAILY MAID let Caroline into Hollis’s home. She found her friend in the drawing room, not in her office. Hollis was perched on a chair before the hearth, reading a broadsheet, a serious look of concentration on her face. Caroline took the chair beside hers and looked around the neat room. It was quite a contrast from the clutter of her office. Even the two cats seemed to be in their places, curled up together on the end of the settee. “Where is Donovan?” Caroline asked.

“I don’t know,” Hollis muttered.

Caroline bent forward to catch Hollis’s eye. “Good evening, Hollis! How are you? What are you doing?”

“Reading the Daily News.” Hollis sighed and lowered the broadsheet. “It’s edited by Charles Dickens. Do you know him?”

“I’ve not met him.”

“He’s printing things that are...worthy, Caro. Items of news that ought to be spread around. Not on-dits. Did you know that Parliament means to establish an entire new system of county courts?”

Caroline laughed. “I certainly did not, and I refuse to know it now. Darling, put that away. I need you just now.”

Hollis blinked. She put the broadsheet away. “Why? What’s happened?”

“I must have Leopold invited to the Pennybacker ball.”

Hollis stared at her. And then she laughed. She laughed so hard she fell back against the settee. “Caro, you are the one who made certain of it he was not invited.”

“Yes, I am well aware, thank you, Hollis. But now I realize it was a terrible mistake.”

Hollis wasn’t through laughing, however. “The seeds you sow, dearest. Shall I venture a guess? You do love him.”

Caroline didn’t have the patience to be coy today. Time was of the essence. “Yes! I am in love with Prince Leopold. There, are you happy now? Will you help me?”

Hollis was still giggling. She reached for Caroline’s hand. “I am happy now. You’re a perfect match. You, too bold by half and terribly impetuous at times, and him, too fond of his ale. All right. But it will require a little cunning.” She stood up and began to pace, one hand on her waist, one finger tapping against her lip. “Ah. Here we are, then. Lady Farrington’s husband has come into quite a lot of money, as I am sure you know.”

Caroline snorted a laugh. “Everyone knows. Priscilla makes certain of it.”

“Nancy Pennybacker can’t abide it when Priscilla has something she doesn’t have. If Nancy knows that Priscilla is having the prince to dine—because you tell her—she will have the prince to her ball. No matter what she thinks of Prince Leopold, she will not allow Priscilla to have royalty into her house before she does.”

A slow smile spread across Caroline’s lips. “That is positively diabolical, Hollis.”

“I study the on-dits, darling. But you must convince Priscilla she ought to have him.”

Caroline stood up. “That’s the easiest thing I might do this week. But Hollis, there is more.”

“No,” Hollis said, and fell very ungracefully into her chair, and propped one foot against the fire screen. “I can’t help you with Lady Norfolk.”

“No, something else—I need a rather large favor. I need you to take in two young women and a boy. But only temporarily,” she hastily added.

Hollis dropped her foot and sat up. “Caroline? What have you done?” she asked gravely.

“Nothing. At least not yet.”

Hollis leaned forward. “Tell me.”

Caroline told her everything. Hollis said not a word as she talked—she gaped at her, her eyes round with shock. When Caroline finished, Hollis leaned back in her seat and stared at the ceiling for a very long moment, taking it all in. “I wouldn’t have thought Prince Leopold of all people would be the one to save them from that.”

“No,” Caroline said with a sheepish laugh.

Hollis suddenly surged to her feet and began to pace again. “This is precisely what I was talking about, Caroline. This level of corruption among government officials can’t be allowed to continue! It should be exposed. I mean to write an article—”

“Hollis? The girls?” Caroline asked.

“What? Yes, yes, Caro, of course,” she said with a wave of her hand. “But do you see what I mean? Instead of publishing who has worn what, or the invitation to whose soiree is the most coveted, I ought to publish the real scandals—Oh! Donovan, there you are. We’re to have guests. Two young women and a lad.”

Donovan had come into the salon with wine. He put the bottle and two glasses on a table between the two chairs. “Very well.”

“Shall we put them in adjoining rooms? How long will they be here, Caro?”

She squirmed a little. “Until the prince sails?”

“Ah. Yes, adjoining rooms.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Donovan said, and turned about and walked out whistling under his breath.

Hollis continued giving Caroline her very firm opinions about what a gazette ought to be until ten past eight o’clock, when at last, a knock was heard at the front door.

“They’re here!” Caroline whispered, and she and Hollis leaped from their seats and smoothed their skirts as if they were meeting royalty.

Moments later, Donovan came into the room with two women and a lad. “Is this who you were expecting, madam?”

“I think they are. Thank you, Donovan.”

He said, “I’ll just take their things up to their rooms, then.”

Thank heaven for Hollis, as Caroline was quite speechless. The two women looked exhausted. They were both terribly thin, but it was the sort of thin that didn’t come by choice, judging by the pallor of their skin and the lankness of their hair. And the boy, oh! The poor lad was swallowed in the coat he wore and clung to the hand of the woman—girl, really—Caroline recognized from Arundel.

The three of them looked frightened and wary, and Caroline’s world of experience did not extend to the sort of life they must have led so far. To try and imagine what they’d endured made Caroline feel ill.

Hollis laid her hand on Caroline’s arm. “Would you mind terribly, Caro, darling, to run and ask Emily to bring tea and sandwiches? I think our guests are hungry.”

“Yes!” Caroline said, grateful for something to do. She hurried out of the room, tears blurring her vision for the second time today. She felt such sorrow and despair for those women. But she also felt a swell of pride. Not for her—for Leopold and all that he’d risked to help them.

CAROLINE HARDLY SLEPT that night, her mind wandering back to Leopold, and the women who were sleeping under Hollis’s roof.

The revelation of what was happening in the very houses she visited left her feeling sad and strangely shallow. When she thought of all the hours and days she’d spent worried about nothing more than what to wear to this party or that supper, while women in meaner circumstances worked hard to just be safe, she felt angry. With life, with herself, with her bubble of privilege, with the meanness in the world.

She desperately wanted to help Leo find the other women. To help in some way. And she desperately needed to turn her mind to something other than the idea he would be leaving soon.

Caroline called on Priscilla that afternoon to finish the fit of the ball gown she’d made for Priscilla to wear to the Pennybacker ball. It was a yellow gown, which, in hindsight, had the effect of making Priscilla’s skin seem sallow. But Priscilla didn’t seem to notice and was thrilled with it.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“You will be among the most envied, Priscilla.”

Priscilla turned her attention to the mirror, admiring herself. “Nancy is wearing lilac. It’s not a good color for her. Makes her appear chalky.”

Caroline suppressed a roll of her eyes and busied herself with arranging the skirt around Priscilla’s ample frame while nudging curious little dogs out of her path.

“She thinks she is better than all of us, you know,” Priscilla confided in a whisper. “You should have heard her at Madam Brendan’s.”

“Madam Brendan? The hatmaker?”

“We ordered gloves from her and had gone in to be measured. And as we waited for the lady before us to finish, Nancy began to talk rather loudly how all of London looks forward to this ball. ‘We never meant it to be the most anticipated event of the summer, but here it is,’ she said, as if she were the queen herself.”

“The hem is too long in the back. I should pin it,” Caroline observed. “Have you a box or a stool?”

Priscilla rang a delicate little bell next to her vanity. “She claims not to have a single regret offered. All the replies were affirmative.”

“Not everyone will be in attendance, will they,” Caroline said. “The Alucian prince has not been invited.”

Priscilla snorted. “No one cares about him, darling. You yourself told us that.”

Yes, she certainly had. There was never a time she wasn’t prattling on about something and it occurred to her that she perhaps ought to learn the art of prudence. “Well,” she said airily as she shooed another dog away with her hands, “it happens that it wasn’t entirely true. The prince dined with the queen’s husband just last week.” That was an absolute falsehood, and one Caroline instantly hoped was not easily proved as such. She felt awful for lying to her friend...for a full minute. But then, it had the desired effect. One must never underestimate the power of royalty upon those who wish to be included in that vaulted circle.

“Did he? I haven’t heard that said. Tom would know if he had, I should think.”

Caroline flushed with a bit of panic. “Yes, but...but how could Tom know, really? Prince Leopold is not receiving invitations from anyone but Buckingham, so I think no one really knows what he is about. That is, besides Beck.” She pretended to study the hem of Priscilla’s gown.

“Really,” Priscilla said.

“Mmm. I’d have the prince to dine myself were it not for Beck. He goes back and forth between Sussex with that blessed horse of his. I never know when he will be home to have guests to dine. I think he prefers to dine with horses.”

Several moments passed. Caroline feared the subtlety of what she was suggesting was lost on Priscilla. But then Priscilla said, “I could have him to dine.”

Caroline almost let out a shout of small triumph. She glanced up, wide-eyed. “What? You could?”

“Yes, why not?” Priscilla asked airily.

“But...his reputation?”

“Darling! If the gentleman is good enough to dine with Prince Albert, he’s certainly good enough for me.”

Caroline crouched down and petted one of the dogs to hide her smile. “But you haven’t any suppers planned, have you, darling?”

Priscilla lifted her chin. “Tom’s been very keen to have all the right people to dine since he’s taken his seat in Parliament. He has very big plans, you know.”

Oh, yes, Caroline and everyone else in Mayfair knew. His ambition was well-known. “What a clever man, your husband. The prince is precisely the sort of connection he’ll need, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Priscilla said, as if she’d thought it all along. “Where is that girl?” She rang the bell again.

A young woman with dark brown hair hurried in. “Beg your pardon, mu’um,” she said with a slight accent.

“A stool, girl, and be quick. We haven’t all day,” Priscilla said.

The girl went out but reappeared a moment later with the stool and two dogs trotting behind her. She set the stool in front of Priscilla. But because of Priscilla’s ample figure, and the many dogs milling about, she couldn’t quite see the stool, and commanded the girl to give her a hand up. The girl lifted her hand so that Priscilla might take it, and when she did, Caroline’s eye was drawn to the linked hands—and a flash of forest green. It was scarcely even a patch of green at all, but there it was, on the cuff of the girl’s dark service gown.

Weslorian green.

Caroline stared at the girl who, relieved of her duties, had stepped back, her eyes downcast. What was it Priscilla had said? Something about foreign servants being better than English servants. Foreign servants. Weslorian servants. Did that mean... Was Tom... Caroline’s breath caught. She could hardly move as the possibilities began to crowd into her head.

“What do you think?” Priscilla asked.

“Pardon? Oh, it’s beautiful,” Caroline said. “It’s perfect for the Pennybacker ball.”

“The hem, darling.”

“Oh! Right.” Caroline sank down on her knees to have a look at the hem. She took a pin from the cushion on her wrist. “For your supper, I think you should wear the blue.”

“You think I should?” Priscilla asked.

It all made sense. Tom’s dear friend was Henry, the Duke of Norfolk. If Tom was using this girl, Caroline was determined to get her out. And the other one, at the Pennybackers’! Yes, of course! Lord Pennybacker and Tom were friends, too, and if Priscilla had a new foreign servant, Nancy would have insisted.

“No one looks as good as you in blue, Priscilla,” Caroline chirped as she put a few pins in the hem to mark where to take it up. “And do you know what else? I think you ought to have your supper after the Pennybacker ball next week, but before everyone begins to leave for the country. It will be a palate cleanser after that dreadful ball, won’t it? And you’d not want Nancy to escape to the north for the summer and not know until autumn that you had the prince to dine, would you?”

“Oh, I hardly care what Nancy Pennybacker thinks of anything,” Priscilla said, which was laughably untrue. “But if I were to have it next week, who else should I invite?” She began to rattle off names that she ought to invite while Caroline’s head spun. Somehow, she managed to chat along, agreeing that this person or that ought to be invited, when all she cared about was how to get news of this to Leopold.

“I’ll serve lamb,” Priscilla said, waving the girl over when Caroline had finished pinning the hem. “The butcher in Newgate has taken a liking to me.” She took the girl’s hand again, and Caroline leaned closer. There was no mistaking that Weslorian green.

She watched the girl go out with the stool.

“Caroline! Where are you?”

Caroline started and whirled around. Priscilla had presented her back to be unfastened out of the gown. Caroline was breathless. She’d found a Weslorian. “What about marzipan cakes?” she suggested.

How would they rescue this poor girl? They? Yes, of course, they! She and Leopold. He’d come to her for help and she was going to help him. She had to do it. For him, and for herself.

But the other thing suddenly beating in her chest was the knowledge that once Leopold had them all, he meant to leave.

He would be leaving very soon. Too soon.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Pennybacker ball was held in Mayfair to much fanfare. At midnight, a light supper of ham and potatoes was served, as well as ices to keep the guests from sweltering.

The best of summer evening gowns made their appearance at the ball, the most desirable including the latest in French fashion of having elaborate bows cascading down the front of the dress.

Prince Leopold of Alucia has announced his imminent departure from England. He is expected to set sail in a matter of days and return to Helenamar to formally announce his engagement to a Weslorian heiress. It shall come not a moment too soon, as Lord Pennybacker has accused him of trying to seduce one of his maids during the ball.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

LEO WAS INDEED being followed. The day after Caroline had told him about the two men from the foreign secretary’s office, he’d noticed a man walking briskly behind him. Kadro and Artur were strolling behind him, too, but either they hadn’t noticed the gentleman, or...or was it possible they were part of the conspiracy against him? Leo wouldn’t have believed it, but then again, he wouldn’t have believed there was a plot to kidnap his brother last year, either. And yet there was. What possible reason would anyone have to plant such a terrible rumor about him? To keep him from discovering the identity of these women?

He didn’t know how or what, but he knew instinctively that it had something to do with Cressidian.

He decided he would think about it when it was necessary. For the time being, he had something pressing to think about. Time was running out to find the last two Weslorian women and free Rasa from Lord Pennybacker’s shackles. He had to at least find the women he knew about. He couldn’t begin to guess how many more there were that he didn’t know about. Young women. Poor women. Helpless women.

He hoped to have Rasa in hand very soon. Tonight was the night of the Pennybacker ball, and somehow, Caroline had managed to see him invited to attend.

Last week, a footman from the house on Upper Brook Street had delivered a note. It said simply, Please do accept any and all invitations you might receive. He’d thought it odd advice, seeing as how he wasn’t receiving any invitations, his name having been struck from all the rolls of suitable guests. But then, curiously, an invitation to dine at the Farrington home arrived a day or two later. In spite of Caroline’s note, he was rather surprised by it—he scarcely knew Lord Farrington. Nevertheless, Lord Farrington had issued his invitation and seemed eager to make Leo’s acquaintance. The date was set for Saturday next.

The invitation to the Pennybacker ball arrived the day after that, along with a personal note from Lady Pennybacker, begging His Royal Highness’s forgiveness for not having sent the invitation sooner. The ball was to be held in just four days’ time, and three days before the dinner at the Farringtons’.

The note said the invitation had been “inadvertently misplaced.”

“Inadvertently misplaced,” Leo repeated. How the devil had Caroline managed it?

“Shall we accept?” Josef had asked, his expression inscrutable. “It is Wednesday evening, and your calendar is free.”

Leo resisted directing a withering look to Josef. He wanted to say of course they would accept, as he was being followed and suspected of treason against his own father and appearances were desperately important. “Je,” he said simply. “I should appreciate the diversion before we depart this land. You should take the night for yourself, Josef. Take in the theater, perhaps.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

It was the sort of vague response Josef always gave him. Neither a yes or no, but a simple thank you. Would he take in the theater? Or would he plot against his employer?

Leo had been looking at Josef a little more closely of late. He suddenly didn’t trust him. Josef had always been unreadable, but now that enigmatic posture seemed suspect, especially in light of the fact that Josef had been the one to suggest Cressidian to him.

Leo recalled how Bas had felt in London those days after Matous was murdered—he trusted no one but Leo, and a pretty woman who lived in a modest town house who liked to repair clocks. He was becoming more like his brother every day.

“I shall notify Freddar that you will need formal clothing for that evening,” Josef said, making a note in his leather journal.

Leo wondered about that leather journal. What other notes did it contain? “Thank you. You may go.”

Josef glanced up. Leo rarely was the one to end their appointments—generally Josef was bustling off to take care of this or that. But he gathered his things and stood, then bowed his head. “Send Kadro to me,” Leo added, his gaze once again on the invitation.

“Je, Your Highness.”

Kadro entered a few minutes later and bowed.

Now Leo studied his guard. Kadro had been with him for six years now—surely he would have noticed something along the way if Kadro was involved in something nefarious? Or had he spent so much time at the bottom of a bottle that he wouldn’t have noticed anything at all? Entirely possible. “Have you noticed anyone following me?” he asked.

Kadro looked confused. “No, Your Highness.”

“Perhaps on the street as I’ve trundled about,” he said, gesturing lazily with his hand.

Kadro’s brows knit into a frown. He shook his head.

Leo slowly stood. “Well, someone has been following me. I’ve seen him, and I wonder why you haven’t. I should like to know who he is.”

Kadro’s feelings about this flashed across his face in a look of confusion, then alarm and then doubt. But he nodded and said, “Je, Your Highness. Artur and I will keep watch.”

“And keep an eye on Josef,” Leo added.

Kadro blinked. He looked as if he wanted to speak. He clearly wanted to understand what had prompted this warning. But Leo wasn’t going to tell him more.

Kadro nodded curtly.

“Thank you. You may go,” Leo said, and turned away from his guard.

He felt unlike himself. A wholly different person from the man who had occupied this skin for twenty-nine years. He didn’t like living with dull suspicions and the need to look over his shoulder. He didn’t like it at all.

Yesterday, a note had come from Hawke:

Your Royal Highness, greetings and salutations. I am writing to invite you to attend the Pennybacker ball with Lady Caroline and myself. She assures me an invitation has been extended to you and feels very much that you should not enter that “den of rumormongers and anxious mothers” all alone. I have suggested that my sister is chief among the rumormongers, and she has said some very unkind things to me in return. But it is her wish, and I extend this invitation because I have proven time and again that I am powerless to deny her. Therefore, it would be our great honor if you were to attend the ball in our company, if for no other reason than to keep brother and sister from maiming each other. We look forward to your favorable reply. B.H.

Leo couldn’t help but smile as he imagined the scene between brother and sister. The Hawkes were the only bright spot in this strange new world he’d created for himself.

He’d sent his favorable reply. He was ready to attend and free Rasa.

He was, however, unusually anxious, given that his previous attempts to free the maids had not gone smoothly. Part of him wished that he could enjoy the ball as he might have a year ago—with an abundance of wine, dancing, perhaps a card game or two.

A larger part of him was relieved those days were behind him.

He had one thing to do before he arrived at the Hawke household. Much to Freddar’s dismay, he insisted on a large overcoat to cover his formal clothing and a dreadful hat with a brim so wide one would have to dip down to see his face. He needed to make a pair of calls on the way to Upper Brook Street.

The first was to Cressidian’s house. It was time to think about that scoundrel.

Mr. Cressidian looked surprised to see him. He looked a little bleary-eyed. Leo knew that look—it was the look of a debauched lifestyle. He guessed Cressidian would rouse himself with some food and drink and have another go this evening.

“Your Highness,” the scoundrel said uncertainly when Leo was shown into his study. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I suspect not. I won’t keep you. But I’m curious, sir—how much did they pay you to slander me?”

One of Cressidian’s brows rose. “I beg your pardon?”

Leo sighed with impatience. “Come now, Mr. Cressidian. You are a master at lining your own pocket. When you told the men who are in the despicable business of selling Weslorian women that I knew about the scheme, how much did they pay you to slander me?”

The blood drained from Cressidian’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said coolly.

“Bloody hell, you don’t.”

“I will thank you to take your leave,” he said, and sort of lurched toward the door, throwing it open, then looking into the hallway, where he probably suspected Alucian men were standing, waiting to take him. They would come later for him, Leo would see to that.

Leo slowly walked to the door, but he paused before the man. He could smell the sour stench of fear and drink on him. “One day, Mr. Cressidian, you will be called to account for your crimes. If I were you, I’d get on my knees and beg for mercy.”

“Fine advice coming from a royal wastrel. Get on your own knees.”

“What makes you think I haven’t?” Leo asked with a wry smile. And then, with speed and strength he hadn’t known he possessed, he punched Cressidian squarely in the jaw and sent him tumbling backward. He gave a laugh of surprise as he went out—he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of such a stunning blow.

The next call he made was to the home of Hollis Honeycutt. He needed to see that his wards were comfortable and prepared to leave at a moment’s notice. He arrived at the address where he’d sent the ladies and knocked on the door. The man who opened the door to him in shirtsleeves and an apron was as tall as he was, and a bit broader. He might have been the most handsome man Leo had ever seen.

He must have been staring in confusion, because the man said, “Aye?”

“Pardon. Is Mrs. Honeycutt at home?”

“She is,” he said, looking Leo up and down. He didn’t move from filling the door.

“Who’s there, Donovan?”

Hollis Honeycutt appeared at the door, ducking under the arm the man had propped against the door frame. She was dressed for the ball. “Oh! Your Highness!”

The man arched a brow.

“I beg your pardon, but I had a moment of opportunity and I thought I might see after your guests?”

“Come in,” she said, smiling. “They’re dining just now. My cook has gone away for the weekend and Donovan made a lamb shank. He’s an excellent cook.”

Leo squeezed by the man and into the foyer. He was instantly struck by the smell of something delicious and something even more amazing—the sound of laughter.

AN HOUR LATER, Leo arrived at Upper Brook Street with Hollis, who would also accompany the Hawkes to the ball. He shed the overcoat and hat and straightened the cuffs of his sleeves. He was wearing his finest formal wear, and for the first time since perhaps his brother’s wedding, he had cared what he looked like. He wore a blue silk sash with his royal medals and had Freddar tie an Alucian knot in his neckcloth. He wore the formal Alucian coat and combed his hair neatly behind his ears, also in the Alucian style. If he was going to leave England in disgrace, he would do it with his head held high.

Garrett showed him into the family drawing room. Beck was impatiently pacing the hearth. “I’ve been waiting for Caro a half hour,” he said impatiently. “What is it that women do in their boudoir? It seems fairly straightforward, does it not? A petticoat, a few pins in the hair,” he said, fluttering his fingers at his head.

“Are you complaining again, Beck?”

“Caro!” Hollis exclaimed as Leo and Beck turned toward the door. “Your gown is gorgeous!”

“Thank you, Hollis! And you are beautiful in blue, darling. You should wear it always.”

Leo’s breath was snatched from his lungs—Caroline looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful—but tonight there was something about her that sparkled. She wore a headdress made of gold and sparkling crystals that looked a bit like a crown, and from which three gold feathers rose up on one side. Her dress was a brilliant shade of gold, so light that it looked a bit like stardust. The skirt, a diaphanous layer of silk over another layer of heavier silk, was embellished with tiny seed pearls. She wore a choker of pearls around her neck, and another, larger pearl brooch pinned to her bodice. A wrap of the same material as her dress was draped loosely around her arms.

She was elegant, resplendent—he felt like a crow, and she the shiniest of objects. He couldn’t look away.

“It was well worth the wait, then, darling,” Beck said. “You and Hollis will outshine all the other ladies.”

“That’s an unexpectedly kind thing for you to say, Beck,” Caroline said with a curtsy. She turned her smile to Leo and he felt it sink into his bones and lodge there. He hoped he never forgot that smile. “Your Highness! How do you do this glorious evening? The weather is so fine, I think they will have the doors open, won’t they?”

“I am...ah.” He felt a little tongue-tied. “I’m very well, thank you.” He smiled. He was speechless. Utterly bewitched. In love.

Her smile deepened, too, as if she understood what he was thinking.

Beck said, “If the two of you will stop gawking at each other, we might be on our way.” Beck and Hollis had already moved to the door and Leo hadn’t noticed.

The ride to the Pennybacker mansion was quick, as it was only a few blocks away, but the wait on the street to disembark was interminable. When at last they pulled in front of the house, Beck stepped out first, then helped Hollis and Caroline down. Leo brought up the rear. Hollis took Beck’s arm, and Leo escorted Caroline inside. It was the first opportunity he had to speak to her privately. “You are a vision,” he murmured. “A lovelier sight I have not seen.”

She smiled with delight. “And so are you very dashing, Your Highness. A true prince. I shall be the envy of everyone here on your arm and I don’t know how we’ll go about the business of finding a maid—I can’t imagine anyone will look away from us.” She smiled and nodded at a pair of acquaintances, then whispered, “I have an idea of how to find her, the maid.”

“I don’t want you to involve yourself tonight, Caroline. It’s too risky.”

“Really?” she said as they climbed the steps. “And how on earth do you think you will manage without me? This place is too large for you to go wandering about. She’s probably a retiring room attendant, poor thing.”

She had a point. The ball would be so crowded, it would be impossible to ferret out one maid. He hadn’t really thought how, but he suddenly had an image of him wandering around in his princely attire, asking after Rasa.

“I’ve a surprise for you.”

He glanced at her. “Well. My curiosity knows no bounds.”

She giggled. “I’ll tell you all when no one is about. Perhaps when we dance.” She glanced up at him with sparkling eyes. “You meant to invite me to stand up with you, didn’t you?”

He looked at her, at the shimmering green eyes, the full lips. The smooth, porcelain skin. She was the stuff of men’s dreams. “I meant to invite you.”

They stepped into a receiving line, and inched along with the throng waiting to greet the earl and his wife. Hollis and Beck were engaged in a lively and somewhat heated discussion, which, curiously, seemed to do with eggs. Caroline spoke to several people as they moved, greeting friends, pausing occasionally to introduce someone to him. But as they neared the earl and his wife, and Caroline had run out of acquaintances to greet, she leaned into him and whispered, “My surprise for you is that I’ve found another one.”

“Another what?” he asked. He glanced around them, expecting another officer of the foreign secretary to step up and accost him.

“Another Weslorian!”

Leo’s heart slowed. Then rapidly began to beat. “What? Here? Where?”

“The Farringtons’.” She smiled, pleased with herself. “It was quite by accident! I had gone to see my friend Lady Farrington and convince her to invite you to dine, because, of course, if she had you to dine, then Lady Pennybacker would have you to the ball. And there she was.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“My lord!” Caroline suddenly slipped into a curtsy. Leo realized only then that they had reached the Pennybackers. This was the second time this evening people and space and time moved around him while he’d stood still, captivated by Caroline.

“Lady Caroline, you grace us with your presence,” Pennybacker boomed. “Your Royal Highness, welcome,” he said, and clasped Leo’s hand in both of his and shook.

“Thank you,” Leo said. “I must thank you for the kind invitation. I shall consider it my last opportunity to see friends before I go.”

“So the talk is true, is it? You’re returning to Alucia?”

“It is true.”

“Well. Don’t take any of my maids,” Pennybacker said, and laughed heartily. Leo forced himself to laugh, too.

After he’d greeted a decidedly standoffish Lady Pennybacker, and they’d been announced into the ballroom, Caroline was pulled away by three ladies, all wanting to admire her gown. Leo stood alone in that crowded room, marveling at how studiously everyone avoided him. Before the royal wedding, he’d been swarmed with people wanting introductions at events like this. Tonight, he received several curious looks, but no one approached him. He was a pariah.

Soon the dancing was in full swing and Leo caught up to Caroline and asked her to dance.

“I should be delighted,” she said. “Everyone is looking at us, so don’t look around to see if they are.”

“I won’t,” he said with a fond smile for her. He wanted to ask her what she meant about finding another Weslorian, but he wanted to dance with her more, to experience the feel of her in his arms with music sweeping them and their mutual esteem along. He bowed to her before taking her hand and stepping into a waltz. As they moved, he looked into her eyes. He didn’t care who looked at them.

“You are a fine dancer, Prince Leopold,” she said. “I suspected you would be.”

“So are you, madam.”

“You really shouldn’t look at me like that.”

“I shouldn’t look at you with adoration?”

Her eyes sparkled more. “Is that what it is? No, you really mustn’t. Tongues will wag and ladies will smolder with resentment. We can’t have them smoldering.”

“Let them, I don’t care.”

She laughed. “They will all wonder if you’ve seduced me. If I have been taken in by your princely charms and spurned all others for you. They will wonder if you are seducing me even now, with your eyes.”

“I’m trying,” he said. “How do I fare?”

“Very well, indeed.” Her smile suddenly dulled. “Oh, Leopold. You may think me mad for saying it, but I will miss you so when you...when it’s over.”

He twirled her around, pulling her a little closer into his body. “I will miss you, too, Caroline. Words fail me to convey just how much.”

“I’ve never known anyone like you, really. Well, your brother, of course. And Eliza is a bit like you, sort of careless and carefree. But really, no one like you, and I’m certain I never will again. That makes me unpardonably sad.”

He sighed and squeezed her hand. “And I have never known anyone like you. You’re rather incomparable, madam.”

Her smile returned. “That is exactly the sort of flattery I adore.”

“That is exactly what I love about you.” Her eyes were locked on his, and she tried to keep her smile, but as they twirled around that dance floor, it was as if all the unspoken words and promises between them were swirling, too. It felt like they were on a tiny planet of two, spinning around and around on their own special axis.

But as the dance drew to a close, Caroline’s eyes glistened in a darker way. “We’re star-crossed, aren’t we? Why couldn’t it have been us?”

He didn’t ask what she meant; he understood. Why could it not have been the two of them to meet and perhaps marry?

“More than anything, I wish it could have been us,” he admitted.

The song ended. She stepped back and curtsied, then walked away from him. She hadn’t taken more than a few steps when Lord Ainsley intercepted her, and after a brief exchange, she returned to the dance floor and disappeared into the crowd of dancers.

Leo needed air. But as he was walking out of the ballroom, Hollis caught him.

“There you are!” she said brightly. She linked her arm through his, and when he looked down at her hand on his arm, she said, “We are practically brother and sister. I’ve said so to nearly everyone, so they won’t think the least about us strolling along. Now, then, Highness, everyone is watching you and Caroline—she’s terribly good at drawing attention, isn’t she? She’s drawing attention right now, as it happens, dancing with Viscount Ainsley, and drawing the ire of the Peacock, who thinks his offer for her is imminent. It will keep everyone’s attention for a time. In the meantime, I have found your friend.”

“My friend?” he asked, momentarily confused, thinking she meant Beck.

“Your friend,” she said again, looking up at him. “She’s running about with towels for the retiring room and I know precisely where to find her, so if you will come with me?”

“Hollis... I don’t want you to get involved,” he said as she led him down the hallway before turning into another hallway.

“I am involved. Do you think I haven’t talked to my guests? Smile, Your Highness! You look far too serious. People will suspect you’re up to something or have received terrible news.”

Leo forced a smile for her.

There were servants in the hallway, and a pair of retiring rooms for the ladies, judging by how many of them were coming and going from the two rooms. There was also a linen closet. Hollis turned him about so that his back was to the main hall and said, “Pretend we are speaking of our sister and brother as we would, and I’ll keep an eye—Oh! Here she is.” She suddenly stepped away from him and blocked the path of a maid with red hair and a cap that was slightly askew.

“Pardon,” the maid said.

“Excuse me, miss, I should like to introduce you to Prince Leopold of Alucia. He has something he would like to say,” Hollis said smoothly.

“Pardon?”

Hollis took the maid by the arm and dragged her to stand in front of Leo. “Hurry,” she urged him.

“Good evening, Rasa,” he said in Weslorian.

She dropped her towels. Hollis quickly scooped them up and pressed them back into her arms. “Step into the linen closet!” Hollis insisted.

The girl looked frantic. “But I—”

“Step inside, darling,” Hollis said more firmly.

The girl stepped inside the narrow closet. Leo didn’t attempt to crowd in with her, but he blocked the entrance. “Forgive this intrusion, but I’ve come to collect you,” he said in Weslorian.

“Collect me for what?”

“I’m taking you and the other women who came to London with you to Alucia.”

Her mouth gaped. She clutched the towels to her. “But why?”

She was not understanding him. “Rasa...you’ve been poorly treated. You’ve been sold into slavery and I mean to free you. If you will gather your things and meet—”

“I don’t want to go!” she exclaimed. “I like my post here! Lord Pennybacker, he gave me his daughter’s clothes she’d outgrown.”

Leo was confused. “But doesn’t he... I beg your pardon, but I must speak plainly. Doesn’t he want something...and by that I mean, you...in return?”

She didn’t seem to understand at first, but when she did, she gasped. “No!”

“Come now, Your Highness,” Hollis whispered. “We have company.”

Leo stepped closer. “Do you understand, lass? You were bought and sold by powerful men.”

“I wasn’t! I begged my father to accept the offer, Your Highness. He’s ill, and my mother has to feed my brothers and sisters. How are they to survive? I like London. I’ve my own room, my own shoes, my own bed.”

Leo stumbled over the idea that she had not had her own shoes.

“Please leave me be,” she begged him. “I don’t want to go back to Wesloria. I want to stay here.”

He hadn’t anticipated this and didn’t know what to say.

“Ah, Your Highness!” Hollis said suddenly. “Are you lost again? Come, I’ll show you the way to the ballroom.”

Leo ignored Hollis and leaned forward. “Rasa, please reconsider.”

She shook her head and stepped deeper into the closet.

“You must be looking for the gaming room,” Hollis said, her voice at a high pitch.

Leo reluctantly stepped back and turned to Hollis. He was surprised and annoyed to see Lady Katherine Maugham in the hall, watching them curiously. He said to Rasa, “Thank you. Mrs. Honeycutt has rescued me and will return me to the ballroom.” He smiled at Lady Katherine. “I seem to have lost my way.”

Lady Katherine was no fool. She stared at him shrewdly.

Hollis looped her arm through his and said, “You’ve had a bit too much ale, haven’t you, Highness?”

He hadn’t had a drop. “Je, too much,” he said jovially.

Lady Katherine curtsied. “Good evening, Your Highness.”

“Mrs. Honeycutt, if you will kindly direct me to the gaming room and the nearest tankard of ale, I should be delighted.” He pretended to stumble and Hollis called out a cheery, “Good evening, Katherine.” The two of them headed for the main hall.

“Well?” Hollis whispered as they strode down the corridor.

“She refuses to leave. She likes it here. She claims Pennybacker treats her well.”

“Oh,” Hollis said, surprised. “Well...perhaps if she is happy?”

Leo didn’t understand how a woman could be happy under those circumstances. She had no freedom. She was a commodity. Because she was comfortable now didn’t mean she always would be. But he didn’t want to debate Hollis. She’d done enough for him, and he didn’t want to involve her further. When they reached the gaming room, he bowed to her. “Thank you, truly, for your help. If you would be so kind as to pass the news along?”

“Of course.” Hollis smiled sympathetically. “You tried, and that’s what matters.”

Leo wasn’t sure of that. Trying didn’t seem quite enough to him.

He watched Hollis disappear into the crowd, then walked into the gaming room and found Beck. His friend had had entirely too much to drink and was feeling very verbose.

Leo sat, his head spinning, his thoughts whirling around, grappling over what he should do next...until Pennybacker came into the gaming room and demanded in a loud whisper what Leo wanted with his Weslorian maid and asked him to take his leave.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

A certain peacock, whose feathers are easily ruffled, is nonetheless fanning them fully to attract the attention of a bachelor viscount. We have high hopes that someone will offer for the little bird before she molts.

Two ladies were spotted in gowns designed by Lady Caroline Hawke. There is some talk that Lady Caroline will invest in a shop so that she might share her talents with all the ladies of London.

Ladies, it should not have to be stated that gray is not a suitable color for a summer ball, and perhaps should be reserved only for a period of mourning.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

IT REQUIRED BOTH Leopold and Garrett to engineer Beck into the house and to his bed, with Caroline hurrying ahead to remove any obstacles to their progress. When he was at last on his bed, one leg sprawled off the side, Beck lamented the amount of money he’d lost at the gaming table.

As Garrett was in his nightshirt, Caroline said, “See to Beck, Garrett. I’ll see the prince out.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Beck said from the bed and struggled up onto an elbow. “Leo...promise me if anything were to happen to me, you’ll take care of Caro.”

“Beck!” Caroline exclaimed. “Nothing will happen to you. You’re drunk and talking nonsense.”

“Promise me, man,” Beck insisted. “I know you keep an eye on her—don’t think I’ve not noticed,” he said, wagging a finger at empty space.

“Je, friend, I promise,” Leo said with a grin.

“Come and fetch her if you must. She’d be better off in Alucia than she would be with these jackals.” His eyes slid closed.

“My goodness,” Caroline said. “Your Highness, shall I see you out?”

They walked out as Garrett attempted to remove Beck’s shoes.

In the hall, as Caroline closed the door to Beck’s room, Leo leaned against the wall, smiling ruefully. He’d undone his neckcloth and looped his sash over one arm. He was so appealing standing there that her heart began to skip. She grabbed his hand and tugged him along, hurrying down the stairs and into the drawing room.

The hearth was cold, the drapes drawn. She groped on a table for a candle and found one, struck a match and provided a small bit of light. She held it up and turned around.

He took the candle from her hand and placed it on the table, then took her into his arms.

She didn’t know what she was doing, other than she couldn’t bear to lose a moment with him. “Everything has turned on its head, hasn’t it? Hollis told me what happened, but not before Katherine Maugham came to tell me that out of concern for my feelings, she thought I ought to know that she saw you trying to seduce a maid, and I should not believe that your attentions to me were anything but for show.”

“She said what?” he asked, incredulous.

Caroline waved a hand at him. “She delighted in telling me, you may trust.”

“She delighted in telling Lord Pennybacker, as well,” he said wryly. “It doesn’t matter. Rasa refused to go. She likes her post. I told Pennybacker that the poor lass had rebuffed my advances and fled.”

“Leopold!”

“What was I to say? I couldn’t risk the blame falling to her.” He stroked Caroline’s face. “I have tried my best, but I think I must accept that I can’t save them all. Rasa has refused me, and the girl at the Farringtons’ may, as well. And that leaves one missing yet.”

“Maybe the girl at Priscilla’s will know where the other one is?” Caroline offered hopefully. “I’ll help you in any way that I can.”

But Leopold was already shaking his head. “No matter what happens at the Farrington supper, I will depart a day or two later, depending on the tide.” He stroked his thumb across her cheek.

That was it, then—the end date. Caroline lifted her hand and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “Leopold...” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words that were in her heart and on her mind. She suddenly threw her arms around his neck to kiss him. He caught her by the waist, making a sound like a laugh into her mouth. But this was no laughing matter to Caroline. She had found the one she wanted. The man who made her want to leave everyone else behind. The man who had made her think beyond herself, who had seen something in her beyond her looks.

The need for him struck her almost violently. The swell of adoration for him was so powerful it left her dizzy, almost like a waking dream.

His arms circled tightly around her, his tongue seeking hers. Her desire enveloped her like a blanket of torment and pleasure—her heart ached and swelled and pounded against her ribs. She felt as if parts of her were cracking open, and the heat of him was seeping into her marrow. She clung to his body, to his lips, and her thoughts deserted her.

Leo groaned from somewhere deep. He lifted his head, gripped her arms tightly. “Don’t, Caroline. I have reached a point where I can’t continue like this, not without...”

“I won’t stop,” she said, and eagerly sought his mouth as her fingers tangled in his hair.

Leo suddenly lifted her off her feet and moved to the settee. He dipped down to the hollow of her throat. “I haven’t forgotten what you said. That you will defend your virtue until you marry,” he said roughly, and shoved his fingers into her curls, pulling some free.

She pushed against his shoulder and made him look at her. “That’s not what I said. I said I wouldn’t part with it unless I was in love.”

Leo’s blue eyes darkened in that low light and he sank back. “Are you in love?”

“Do you really need to ask?” She cupped his face with her hands. “I love you, Leopold. I ardently admire you. I adore you. If you were any other man, I would beg you to ask for my hand.”

Leopold’s expression turned wild. He grabbed her hand and pressed her palm against his chest so that she could feel his wildly beating heart. The force of it surprised her. He looked almost pained as he caressed her face, her shoulder, his fingers trailing over the swell of her breasts. “I love you, Caroline. I don’t know how it happened, how you crept under my skin and into my heart. I don’t know how you inserted yourself into my every waking thought. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was never meant to be like this.”

“I know, I know, but I don’t care,” she said breathlessly. “I know I can’t have you, Leopold, but I can’t let you leave and not say or experience these raging feelings for you. I’m desperate with want. Aren’t you?”

“Desperate,” he muttered. He stroked her face, his eyes searching hers. But then his gaze fell to her lips. “Close your eyes.”

Caroline closed her eyes and lay back on the settee, giving in to her desire and to him. He moved his mouth over her skin, his touch burning a trail in its wake. She felt white-hot inside, desire thrumming and pulsing in her, anticipation and such incredible longing shimmering out through her toes and fingers.

He slid his hands down to her ankle, then his fingers beneath the hem of her gown and on her calf, and then up, to her thigh, to her sex. She skated her hands over his shoulders and his chest, insistent. She kissed him and pressed her body against him, wanting more, wanting everything about him.

His kisses turned blistering, and his hands were between her legs, stroking her. But it wasn’t enough for her this time. Caroline slid her hand down his body and stroked his erection. Leo grunted and pressed against her, so that she could feel how hard he was, how he wanted her.

It was extraordinary that desire could burn so fiercely in her that she could abandon the barriers she’d erected to keep her virtue. He had easily torn down the doors of her defense and made her his. All that Caroline knew was that she’d never felt anything as urgent, as imperative, as the desire to have him.

He filled his hand with her breast, kissed her chin, her throat and the spill of her flesh above the bodice of her gown. He moved down her body, kissing her stomach through her dress and her corset, then moved up, sank his fingers into her cleavage and released a breast. He suckled it, then rolled the tip between thumb and forefinger. Caroline gasped with pleasure.

“You must be sure,” he said, pressing his forehead against hers, his breathing as ragged as her own. “You must be certain this is what you want, because God help me, I am not man enough to help you decide. I am but a breath away from ravaging you. Do you understand me, Caroline?”

He was a good man. A decent man. She drew up on an elbow and kissed his mouth. “I’m not asking you to help me decide anything, Leopold. I’m asking you to take me.”

The light in his eyes seemed to shimmer in the darkness. He muttered something in Alucian and lowered his head to hers, kissing her tenderly, reverently. But the tenderness quickly gave way to heat, and his hands and his mouth were everywhere. He ripped the coat from his body, grabbed the shirt and pulled it over his head. Her hands touched the flesh of his chest for the first time and Caroline groaned.

He reached his hand between her legs and began to stroke her, moving his fingers inside her, helping her body to open. She was wild and uncertain what to do, or where to put her hands. Her breath was so shallow, as if she’d run for miles to him. She could feel the inevitable release building in her, and she grabbed his nape, pulled his head to hers, kissed his lips and bit the bottom one. “It’s time.”

“God, woman, you drive me to madness,” he said. “Be still now. Be easy,” he whispered.

She couldn’t be easy. She could be anything but easy. She closed her eyes, dug her fingers into his neck and chest, and allowed herself to sink into the pleasure he was giving her. His fingers slid deep inside her and back again in primal rhythm, as he moved his mouth over her cheek, her lips, her eyes, gliding so lightly that her skin simmered to the point she could scarcely endure even the whisper of his kiss. When he dipped his head to her exposed breast again, she felt herself sliding off a cliff and falling through space.

She knew he fumbled with his clothing. She gasped when he guided her to touch him. But nothing compared to the moment he slid the tip against her dampness. She was lost. It was pain, it was pleasure. It was a sensation beyond anything she’d ever known.

Leo dragged her hand up above her head and held it, then kissed her tenderly as he began to slowly, carefully, push himself inside her.

Desire and love intermingled and began to drum in her. She was inflamed by this intimacy, and despite a bit of discomfort, she would do this again and again with him. But as he moved deeper, pressing up against her maidenhead, she realized how profound this was, this moment in her life, with this man. She would never again feel so deeply for someone. Never in her life would she experience something so remarkable.

“Draw a breath,” he whispered, and as Caroline drew it, he pushed past her maidenhead. Her body tensed to absorb the discomfort, but then something remarkable began to happen—she could feel her body adapting to his.

He stroked her face, kissed her lips and began to move in her. He was whispering encouragement to her, but at some point, he stopped speaking. His breath deepened and he moved with more deliberation. Caroline began to move with him. It was as if her body knew what to do, how to reach the end with him, and all she had to do was ride along.

Her body raced toward release, her heart pounding in her chest. And then he put his hand between her legs and began to stroke her in time with the movement of his body. A moment later, her release poured out of her.

His followed—he pulled himself free of her at the last possible moment, then collapsed on top of her.

Caroline softly pressed her lips to his neck, her hand to his chest. She was speechless. She couldn’t imagine this with another man. She couldn’t imagine this with anyone but Leopold.

Which presented a bit of a problem, but one that Caroline would think about tomorrow. At present, she wanted only to revel in the feel of this man’s body with hers.

“I love you,” he said against her shoulder. “I need you to know it.” He lifted his head. “I love you, Caroline Hawke. And no matter what happens, I always will.”

It was too dark for him to see the tears in her eyes. “I love you, Leopold. I do, so desperately.”

They held each other for a very long time. But eventually, Leopold stood. He took a handkerchief and cleaned them both, then fastened his clothing. Her hair had come undone, and her beautiful gown was wrinkled and the overskirt torn in one place. She hardly cared.

He helped her up from the settee, then wrapped her in a warm embrace. “Caroline, I...” His voice trailed away, as if words had failed him.

“I know,” she whispered. She didn’t want to hear him say he had to go. She didn’t want to be reminded that they were hurtling toward the time he would leave her forever.

He kissed her cheek. Her mouth. Her hand. He kissed her lips and lingered...and then walked to the door. He looked over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping over her before locking on her eyes. She felt not of this earth. The candle had almost burned out, and he was in the shadows, like a dream. Her summer dream.

Caroline stood in the very spot he’d left her long after he’d gone. She couldn’t seem to make her feet move. She couldn’t seem to do anything but breathe, and scarcely at that.

CAROLINE WAS STILL abed the next morning when Martha came in and told her she had callers. Caroline groggily sat up. “Who?”

“I don’t know, miss. Garrett sent me to fetch you.”

Her heart started. Was it Leopold? She grinned and threw off the covers. She dressed in a simple day gown, left her hair hanging down her back in a tail and hurried downstairs, eager to see him. But when she burst into the drawing room, the very room where she’d experienced something so very profound just hours before, she didn’t see Leopold at all. It was Mr. Drummond, from the office of the foreign secretary, and a very green Beck.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

An intimate supper party at the home of a newly appointed lord erupted into chaos when a maid new to the household was discovered to have run away in the middle of the evening. The party was quickly disbanded. In the following days our intrepid hostess and family departed for the country for the rest of the summer and has not been heard from since.

Ladies, for the bit of dust in corners that does not come away with a good feather duster, balling up a slice of brown bread and dabbing in the corner will do the trick.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

AMBASSADOR REDBANE CALLED on Leo in the common room of the Clarendon Hotel quite unexpectedly the morning of the Farrington supper. He seemed agitated, as if he’d been chased by a pack of wolves.

“Good morning, Redbane,” Leo said, looking up at him from the morning papers. “Is everything all right?”

“Your Highness,” Redbane said, clutching his hat. “It is imperative you leave for Alucia on tomorrow’s outgoing tide. The royal ship stands at the ready.”

Leo froze for a moment. “Tomorrow? Why?”

Redbane removed a letter from his pocket. “The British foreign secretary has requested it. They have some outrageous idea that you may be plotting with the Weslorians against the king, or involved in something even more nefarious. They have come to me, asking that the king remove you from England at once.”

“I beg your pardon?” Leo tossed the paper aside and stood up. Redbane handed him the letter.

Leo quickly scanned the contents. It was a formal request to be presented to his father that he be removed at once for reasons of “poor conduct.”

“Poor conduct?” Leo asked.

“It is a more palatable excuse for their accusations that you are plotting against your father. They want no trouble, Your Highness. They can’t have any sort of plot being hatched here.”

“I am not plotting against my father,” Leo said. “And if anyone suspects that is so, they need only follow me back to Alucia, where I will reveal the truth about my activities here,” Leo said curtly. He rubbed his eyes. “Has a dispatch been sent to my father?”

Redbane nodded.

Well, this certainly put a damper on things. Leo suspected his father would give no credence to the talk of treason, but he knew he’d give quite a lot of credence to the charge of poor conduct.

“It is in the best interest of Alucia,” Redbane added.

“Fine, I understand I must go. But on Monday.”

“But Your Highness—”

“There is nothing that will sway me, Redbane. There is one last thing I must attend to before I go.”

Redbane pressed his lips together.

“Is there anything else?” Leo asked.

“No, Your Highness.”

“Then you may go,” he said irritably, gesturing the ambassador away.

He was made distraught with this news. He still didn’t know where one of the women was, and he didn’t know what would happen this evening. But it was the thought of losing Caroline that made him feel so ill. He’d known this moment would come, that he’d have to say goodbye, but he’d fought to keep himself from dwelling on it. He had to face it. She’d come to mean so much to him. She’d come to mean everything to him. She was the light his soul needed. How could he leave? He didn’t know how he could go on, knowing that he wouldn’t see her for a very long time, and when he did, it would be in Alucia and he’d likely be married. If not to Eulalie, then to someone else.

His mood soured over the rest of the day as he tried to think his way clear of this dilemma. He dressed for the night, but he had that odd feeling again of not fitting right in his own skin. As if this new person he’d become didn’t fit his body. As if loving a woman was something he wasn’t built to do. He burned for her. He did. He even lifted his shirt, half expecting to see a mortal wound there.

What had he done? Had he taken the virtue of a woman he truly loved only to leave her? At the time, it had seemed imperative, the only thing that was right between them. Today, with this banishment hanging over his head, it seemed entirely wrong and selfish.

He glanced at Freddar, older than him by twenty years. “What do you say, Freddar, are you ready to return to Alucia?”

“Je, Your Highness. I miss my family, I do.”

Leo didn’t miss his family. He would miss Caroline more. So much more.

HE WAS GREETED at the door of the Farrington house by Lord Farrington himself. “Welcome, welcome, Your Highness. Thank you for coming,” he said as Leo handed his cloak to the waiting footman. “I hope you won’t mind that we are a small group tonight. I look forward to speaking with you this evening, as I’ve been working very closely with Mr. Vinters of Alucia.”

Leo paused as he removed his hat. “Have you?” he asked. That was the name Lysander had given him. His father’s most trusted adviser and peddler of human flesh.

“He’s a clever man, that one. I think we might find numerous avenues of cooperation between our two countries. Trade, naturally. But in the arts, as well. I’m very keen on that idea in particular.” He smiled broadly.

“A noble pursuit,” Leo muttered.

He followed Farrington into a large drawing room that seemed to have been recently decorated, judging by the smell of plaster and the pristine condition of the rugs and drapes. He was greeted by Lord Ainsley, and Lady Katherine Maugham and her mother, Lady Maugham. Lady Katherine would not meet his eye.

Hollis and her father, Justice Tricklebank, had come, and he was introduced to Mr. Edward Hancock and his wife, Felicity Hancock. And of course, Caroline and Beck. Oh, but he was a poor actor—he couldn’t keep the smile from his face when he saw her. She wore yet another beautiful gown of shimmering green. “A lovely dress, Lady Caroline,” he said politely as he bent over her hand.

“Do you like it? I made it myself.” She smiled coyly. “We’ve not seen you in two days, Your Highness. Have you grown weary of us?”

“Quite the contrary. Unfortunately, I’ve been too well occupied.”

“All right,” Beck said. “If you please, Caro, go and keep the judge company, will you? I should like a word with the prince.”

“Really? What word?” she asked.

“Does it not stand to reason that if I wanted you to know, I would invite you to stay? Go,” Beck said, fluttering his fingers at her.

She cast a brilliant smile at Leo and walked across the room to join Hollis and her father.

Beck indicated with his chin a corner of the room.

“Is something wrong?” Leo asked when they had separated themselves from the other guests.

“You’re being watched,” Beck murmured, his eye on the others. “Gentlemen from the foreign secretary have come round. They seem to think Caro might know something about a plot to steal your father’s throne.” He shifted his gaze to Leo. “They think you may have confided in her. What the devil is going on, Leo? Why do they think my sister might know of your plans? What are your plans?”

“Beck,” Leo said. “I don’t have plans. I’m not plotting against my father, for God’s sake. I love him. I don’t even know my uncle.”

Beck looked dubious.

“It is something else entirely.”

“What?”

Leo considered what he ought to say. “It has to do with betrayal in my father’s ranks, but I really can’t say more. I’m asking you to trust me, Beck.”

“And Caroline?”

Leo swallowed. He would not lie to his friend. “She has helped me meet some people who were useful to know.” It wasn’t a real answer, Leo knew, and judging by Beck’s dark frown, he didn’t think so, either. But Leo wouldn’t say more. He would not risk implicating Caroline to anyone.

Beck pressed his lips together and looked across the room to where Caroline was standing. “Look, I don’t know what this is all about, but these men were serious. My advice is to depart Britain as soon as you can.”

“I plan to leave this week,” Leo said.

Beck put his hand on his arm. “Listen to me, Leo. It doesn’t matter what is true—it matters what they perceive. And people perceive you to be rotten at the core.”

“I understand.” He did. The people behind this would look for any scapegoat to keep their profits. How the devil had he gotten himself in this mess?

“For the sake of my sister, I hope that you do,” Beck said. He walked away.

Leo reluctantly turned back to the others. He wanted a word with Caroline, but it seemed as if all eyes were upon her, watching everything she did. And she, of course, was holding court as only she could do.

At supper, he was seated across from Caroline. She laughed and talked as she normally did, almost too beautiful to behold. She looked for all the world like nothing had happened between them. He would have been perfectly content to watch her all night, but Lady Katherine Maugham and her friend, Mrs. Hancock, wanted otherwise. They peppered him with questions he found confusing and silly, and he was certain he appeared as bored as he felt.

The only saving grace was that every so often he would catch Caroline looking at him with a sparkle in her eye. He would carry that delightful sparkle and brilliant smile with him always, imprinted on his heart. He would look back on this night and remember her and imagine what might have been.

She laughingly accused Mr. Hancock of wanting to steal their driver, apparently after a mix-up of carriages on Park Avenue one day. She congratulated Mrs. Hancock on her dress. She regaled the entire table with a tale of three young girls who had gone out when they shouldn’t have and gotten lost in a thicket.

“Where did this happen?” Lady Farrington asked.

“Oh, our home in Bibury. We used to summer there, all of us.”

“What I remember was taking a switch to the three of you,” the judge said.

“You never took a switch to them that I recall,” Beck said with a laugh. “Admit it, my lord. You indulged them terribly.”

“No worse than you, Hawke,” the judge agreed.

Talk turned to the new county courts that were to be established. Justice Tricklebank confessed he’d like to retire to one.

“You can’t desert us for the country,” Caroline protested. “What of me and Hollis?”

“The two of you will be married by then. That is my fervent prayer,” he amended to much laughter.

“Your prayers clearly haven’t been fervent enough, Papa,” Hollis said with a laugh.

When the plates had been cleared, Caroline asked to be excused. All the gentlemen stood and she left the dining room.

At the door, she glanced back at Leo so briefly that he might have imagined it. And then she was gone. He looked down at his plate. His stomach was roiling with nerves. He didn’t want his time here to end this way. And then again, he’d come this far. If he could save one more of them, wasn’t it worth the risk?

“Perhaps all the ladies should retire and leave the gentlemen to their cigars?” Lady Farrington suggested when Caroline had gone out. The ladies agreed and made their way from the room.

The smoking portion of the evening stretched interminably. Leo didn’t smoke but stood at the window, listening to the gentlemen discuss those things they enjoyed: hunting, racing. Women. His nerves kept ratcheting up. He felt a little ill. He wished for whisky.

He finally turned from the window and excused himself.

“We’ve got a piss bucket in the corner for you, Highness,” Farrington called out. The man had drunk too much, and so had most of his guests—they erupted into laughter.

Leo laughed, too, but carried on, stepping into the hall and pulling the door shut behind him. He glanced around and saw Caroline standing just at the door in the drawing room. She was waiting for him, he realized. She glanced back into the drawing room, then quickly stepped out and hurried over to him. “Last door on the right,” she whispered, pointing.

Leo looked in the direction indicated.

“She’s waiting for you.” Caroline moved as if she meant to return to the drawing room.

But Leo caught her hand. “Caroline, wait—I must speak to you.”

“Yes, of course. But you must go speak to her first. She’s frightened, but she wants to flee.” She disentangled her fingers from his and skipped across the hall and disappeared into the drawing room.

Leo looked down the hall to last door on the right. One more. One more to rescue, and he could stop playing the hero.

CAROLINE WAS CERTAIN no one had noticed her step out of the drawing room, and when she returned, no one glanced up—they were all chattering away. She was glad for it—she was at sixes and sevens, her nerves frayed. She went to the window and tried to see out, but it was dark, and all she could see was her shadowy reflection. She couldn’t seem to keep a breath in her chest and kept taking little gulps of air.

“There you are, Caroline. Where did you get off to?”

Caroline started. She turned to look at Lady Katherine. “Oh. The retiring room.”

“Ah. I should like to avail myself before the gentlemen join us. Is it just down the hall?”

Caroline panicked. There was nothing down the hall but a study, and right now, Leo was there with Eowyn. “Oh, I wouldn’t just now. I think they mean to clean it.”

“Clean it? Now?”

“Well,” Caroline winced, then put her hand to her belly, “I’m afraid supper didn’t agree with me. I think it was the fish. You never know how long it’s been sitting in those market stalls.”

Her distasteful little white lie worked like a charm. Katherine looked stricken. “Oh dear.” She glanced to the door. “Surely they’ve had time to clean it.”

Lord, this woman! She was a pest, forever watching Caroline. She wanted to put her hand over Katherine’s mouth and beg her not to speak. But here was Katherine, sticking her nose in once more. Obviously suspicious. Wanting to catch Caroline at something she could gossip about.

“You may be right. I’ll go and check for you, shall I?”

Katherine tilted her head to one side. “That’s not necessary.”

“I’ll be back tout de suite.” Caroline smiled. It was a flimsy excuse, but Caroline didn’t know what else to do. She moved around Katherine and out the door, hurrying down the hall, glancing back once to make sure Katherine didn’t follow her. Just as she reached the study, she heard the gentlemen. They were preparing to rejoin the ladies, and it wouldn’t be long before someone noticed she and Leopold were both missing.

In her panic, Caroline dove in through the partially opened door of the study and startled both Leopold and the girl. Eowyn was sobbing. Leopold spoke to her in Alucian, his voice calm and soothing. Then he looked at Caroline.

“They are...you’ve been missed.”

He understood immediately. He turned to the girl, put his hand on her arm and spoke to her in Alucian. But Caroline could hear voices coming down the hall toward the room. She closed the door. “They are coming now!” she warned them.

“Go and get your things. Come round to the side of the house,” Leopold instructed Eowyn. “Take only what you can carry and speak to no one.”

The voices were drawing nearer. Caroline recognized Tom, Priscilla’s husband, and she was all but certain she heard Katherine’s voice, as well. “It’s too late! Hide, Eowyn!”

“Caroline!” Leopold said as Eowyn dove behind a chair.

There really was no place for the poor girl to hide. They would spot her right away, and they would assume the worst of her and Leopold. Caroline heard Farrington at the door. She knew instinctively the only way to hide that girl was to create a diversion. She ran to the prince. “I’m so very sorry,” she said, then threw her arms around Leopold with such force that he stumbled backward and had to catch her. Just as the door opened, Caroline kissed him. She kissed him with all the regret and longing she would carry with her the rest of her days.

Leopold returned her kiss with all his regret and longing. They were locked in a lover’s embrace. Their last embrace. Their last kiss.

Caroline heard Katherine’s cry of alarm, heard Farrington bellow for them to stop it at once. Caroline shoved away from Leopold and lunged toward the door. “It’s not what it seems!” she cried.

“Bloody hell, it’s not!” Farrington shouted. “And you, Highness, debauching this young woman!”

More people were coming, and Caroline moved toward Farrington. “I welcomed it!” she cried, and grabbed the man’s lapels.

“Caroline!” Leopold thundered and rushed after her. They all spilled into the hall, Caroline sobbing that she’d done nothing wrong, she’d merely followed her heart, and Leopold begging Farrington’s forgiveness. Everyone was shouting, Priscilla’s dogs were barking and Katherine was crying, which confused Caroline. Somehow, Hollis had reached her, had taken her hand and squeezed it, her face ashen and wide-eyed.

It was Beck who scared her the most. She’d never seen him so angry. He dug his fingers into her elbow and yanked her forward. She didn’t know what he said to their hosts—she tried to turn around, to see Leopold, but Farrington was railing at him, threatening him with the demise of good relations with Great Britain as he, too, tried to make his way to the entrance. And Priscilla, her good friend Priscilla, staring at her in horror. “In my house, Caroline? In my house?”

Somehow, Beck managed to force Caroline outside and into a waiting coach. She waited, fearing she would be ill, trying to see out the window at what was happening. But it was dark and she couldn’t make anything out. Several minutes later, Beck entered the coach, and he pounded the ceiling so hard she thought he’d put a fist through it.

“I can explain,” she tried, but Beck threw up a hand.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice deadly and low. “Not a word, Caroline. Not a damn word from you.”

They rode in an uncomfortable silence all the way home, and once there, Beck didn’t bother to help her from the coach. He leaped out and strode through the gate and up the stairs to his suite of rooms. The slamming of his door reverberated throughout the house.

Caroline slowly made her way to her room. Her legs felt heavy, and her heart ached. She fell listlessly onto the bed, facedown. She was exhausted, emotionally drained. She had ruined her reputation, she might never see Leopold again and she didn’t even know if Eowyn had escaped.

When the tears finally started to fall, they were not for her ruin. They were her grief at losing Leopold.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Quite a few people have come and gone from a particular house on Upper Brook Street in the last two days. One might assume someone had taken ill. It is entirely possible that is true, given that the events at a friend’s house left many hard and confused feelings among close acquaintances.

Ladies, if your husband is experiencing lethargy and an unwillingness to work, a teaspoon of licorice root to one’s tea is guaranteed to restore vitality. Carsons’ Licorice Root is available in measured doses for the unsuspecting husband.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

CAROLINE CRIED HERSELF to sleep and into the night between tears and sleeping. On the following day, she was dragged awake by the sudden streaming of sun in through her windows. She threw an arm over her eyes and moaned. “What time is it?”

“One o’clock,” Martha said from somewhere across the room.

Caroline opened her eyes. They were swollen from sobbing, and her head felt as if it were caught in a vise. She slowly pushed herself up, and a curtain of hair shielded her view of Martha. “The most terrible thing happened last night, Martha.”

Martha didn’t speak at first. Caroline squeezed her eyes shut then pushed her hair aside and looked at her lady’s maid.

Martha gave her a piteous look. “I heard, madam. Another maid has gone missing, and the tale of how she went missing was quick to spread. They say it’s a love triangle.”

“A love triangle?”

Martha glanced away. “You, the prince, and the maid.”

“Oh, good Lord,” Caroline whispered. “I’m ruined, aren’t I?”

Martha didn’t dispute her. She sat next to her on the bed and put her arm around her shoulders as she’d done many times through the years. “Don’t fret, milady. His lordship will make it better.”

But Beck didn’t make it better. He couldn’t make it better, no matter how he might have wanted to. If he wanted to. He summoned her to his study later that afternoon. He looked older to her somehow. His eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, and the lines around them were more pronounced than she’d ever noticed before. She stood meekly before him, her arms wrapped around her body, equal parts ashamed and tired and defiant.

Beck sighed. “What am I to do, Caro? What, pray tell? Your reputation is in tatters. I went round to the club this morning and everyone had heard what happened at the Farringtons’.”

A shaft of light broke through the clouds and landed between brother and sister, like some sort of invisible barrier.

Caroline felt as if she’d climbed mountains. Her legs and arms felt wobbly. She sank onto a settee. “I was trying to help.”

“By seducing him? That’s what they will say, you know. The fault always is assigned to the female in these situations.”

“I didn’t seduce him. It wasn’t like that.”

Beck came around from his desk and pulled a chair up to sit before her. “Then what was it like? Tell me, Caro. Help me to understand.”

Caroline didn’t have the strength to spare Beck any detail. She told him everything—about the Weslorian girls and the terrible thing that had happened to them, and how Leopold was doing his best to save them. She confessed she’d fallen in love with Leopold, and that it wasn’t infatuation but true love, and he had come to feel the same for her. She told Beck that last night, when it looked as if Leopold would be caught and the girl sent off to her rooms and to God knew what sort of punishment, she’d done the only thing she could think of in the moment and created another scandal to cover the one blooming in that study.

When she had finished, Beck understood. He had softened considerably. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin as he looked at the window. “Why didn’t you tell this to Mr. Drummond when he called?”

“I didn’t know if I could trust him, and I wouldn’t do anything to harm Leopold.”

Beck spread his fingers wide on his knees. “Well, then. You’ll have to go away from London for a time.”

“Why? I won’t go out, I promise.”

“Caro...don’t you understand? I won’t allow to happen to you what happened to Eliza. This society you love so much is like a rabid dog. They will turn on you and pillory you at the slightest opportunity. You and Martha will go to our country home in Bibury, and hopefully, with the passage of time, the talk will ease.”

Her chest constricted painfully. She couldn’t imagine living in the country indefinitely. What would she do? How would she survive without friends? What about her dresses and her plans to open a dress shop? What about suppers and balls and gentlemen callers, all threads in the tapestry of her life? Who was she without those things? “But...but what of Leopold?”

“No, Caroline,” Beck said sharply. “I am sorry, darling, I know you love him. I’ve suspected it for some time, really. But you mustn’t ask about him, you mustn’t think about him. He is sailing tomorrow and he will not be back. His reputation is in worse tatters than yours.” He surged forward and grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I understand, darling. I’ve known heartbreak. But it will ease with time and a change of place. You will gradually think of other things.”

Caroline didn’t believe him. She couldn’t imagine she would ever think of anything but her prince.

HOLLIS CAME THE following morning. Beck met her in the grand hall and told her that now was not a good time.

“It’s never going to be a good time, Beck,” Hollis said. “Move aside.”

“Do you really think you’re in a position to come into my home and order me about, Hollis Honeycutt?”

“I do, Beck! I do! She is a sister to me and I will not allow you to stand in my way.”

Beck huffed. “Why is it that you are incapable of listening to me?” he demanded. “Why are you all incapable of listening to me?” he called as she marched past him and up the stairs.

Hollis ignored him. Her face was upturned to Caroline, who had watched it all from above. “Darling!” she cried. “Oh, Caro.” She reached the first floor and looped her arm through Caroline’s, whirling her about and pulling her into Caroline’s sitting room, where dresses in various states of construction were lying and hanging about. She pulled Caroline down onto the settee, took both hands in hers and said, “Caro...he’s gone. He boarded the royal Alucian ship this morning with three maids and a boy.”

She gasped with relief. At least they’d managed to do that. “How do you know?”

“I sent Donovan to help them all. No one else would.”

Caroline couldn’t breathe.

Hollis squeezed her hands. “He told everyone the truth before he went,” she said low. “He called the Alucian ambassador to him as well as the men from the foreign secretary’s office. Mrs. Parker was at the Clarendon Hotel with her husband when it happened, and she said that he explained to them that he’d discovered a nefarious plot. She didn’t hear all the details, as her husband sent her from the common room, but she heard enough to know it involved young women. She said the government men didn’t believe him, and wanted to question him further, but the tide was going out soon and he said if they didn’t have cause to detain him, he was leaving, and that he did. He boarded a ship for Alucia with the rest of them. Donovan said he’s a hero.”

Caroline felt herself choking on her breath. He was a hero. He was kind and compassionate and he felt things, and made her feel things, and Caroline couldn’t breathe. “I’ll never see him again, Hollis. And if I do, he’ll be a man with a wife and children and I... Oh my God.”

“Darling, he tried to see you, but Beck wouldn’t allow it. He told him he’d done enough and it wouldn’t do.”

“He was here?” she cried. While she’d been sobbing herself sick, he’d come.

“But this morning, a man appeared at my door with a letter. One of his guards, I think. Anyway, he said the prince asked me to see it safely delivered to you.” She pressed the folded paper into Caroline’s hand. Tears began to fill her eyes, and she stood. “I must be gone. I mean to expose this corruption.” She leaned down to kiss Caroline’s cheek.

Caroline didn’t know what she meant by that and lacked the energy to ask. She stood woodenly and followed Hollis out onto the landing, the letter clutched in her hand. She watched her dear friend rush down the curving staircase, watched her speak to Beck, then surprisingly, watched them embrace. It was as if she’d died.

She returned to her sitting room and shut the door, staring at the letter. She drew a breath. Then another. And then she read it.

Darling Caroline, by the time you read this letter I likely will have set sail for Helenamar. Given events, I am obviously no longer welcome in England. I have agonized for you and regret that there wasn’t a moment to speak.

There seems quite a lot that should be said, but time restricts me, so I will write this: I never believed love would find me. I never believed that in my position, I would know the luxury of love. My world was a fog of pleasure and privilege, but then you came along and pierced that fog.

I never dreamed I would meet someone like you, much less love someone like you. I fear this love I hold for you will drive me to madness. I think of you every day and I will for the rest of my life. I will hold dear what we have shared. I will never have the strength to feel this way again, and I want you to know, no matter what else, I loved you beyond compare and will burn for you for the rest of my days.

So did she love him beyond compare. So would she burn for him until she was all burned up.

She didn’t care if she was sent to the country. She didn’t care about anything anymore.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Bibury, the Cotswolds

Everyone who is able has left the dreaded summer heat of London, but a few souls remain, including a peacock, who lost a few feathers this summer and reportedly hasn’t the energy to fly.

Lady Caroline Hawke announces she will not be taking orders for dresses, as she has decided the London air is unkind to her constitution and has determined to take some time to recuperate in the country.

After a scandalous departure of one maid, a certain lady whose husband is a rising star in politics has taken two more new servants into the fold. The lucky young ladies are Londoners.

Disturbing rumors of a slave ring operating at the highest reaches of British government continue to swirl, and we’ll be keeping our eyes and ears open to bring you more news of it.

Ladies, new studies in physical health suggest that calisthenics should be incorporated into every woman’s daily routine.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

THE THREE LADIES gathered in the drawing room at the Hawke country house had come from the parish village. Two of them were seated politely on the settee. One of them stood on a box, her arms held out as Caroline measured her.

She’d been in the country for four months now. Summer had long since departed and a cool autumn had taken its place. She’d taken to wearing her hair long and in a single tail down her back—it didn’t seem worth the effort to coif and curl when she had no society to impress. She likewise wore a plain skirt and one of Beck’s old shirts tucked into it, as well as one of his older sweaters that hung to her knees.

Around the drawing room were dresses in various stages of construction. She didn’t care to wear them anymore, but making them took her mind off...other things. “You will look lovely in blue, I think, Mrs. Carter. Do you like the blue silk?” she asked.

“Oh, but it’s beautiful,” the woman said.

“You may lower your arms,” Caroline said. She looked at her notes and smiled at the three women. “All right, then, I have three dresses to be made for the Yuletide. One red,” she said, pointing at one of the ladies on the couch. “One in the green-and-cream-striped silk, and the blue.”

The women all nodded their heads in agreement.

“Wonderful!” Caroline said, and nodded at Martha, who stood from her desk and walked over to the ladies. “Thank you all so very much for coming.”

“Thank you, Lady Caroline,” Mrs. Carter gushed.

Martha escorted the ladies to the door. She paused to chat with them, something about the new doctor in the village, and then saw them out. Martha liked it here, Caroline could tell. She’d taken to baking, and she and the cook who came from Bibury four days a week had become fast friends.

Caroline liked it here as well as anywhere, she supposed. Perhaps even more. Strangely enough, she didn’t miss society. In fact, she often wondered why that elite social circle had been so important to her. It seemed rather vacuous to her now. She had seemed vacuous. She’d allowed herself to empty out, to think of only her shell, too fearful to see what ticked inside her. Well, now she knew.

A lot had changed for her these last few months. It was as if being away from London and the constant swirl of parties and suppers, she’d finally come to terms with who she was. As if the cocoon of London she’d created had helped her avoid her true feelings about everything.

Since Leopold had left, she’d slowly realized that so much of her life was devoted to superficial things. Now she knew what she wanted. She wanted a love like she’d shared with him. She wanted her life to mean something. She wanted to make Beck proud of her. She wanted to spend her days doing something more important than dressing and being seen and admired. She wanted to help others. She wanted purpose.

She hadn’t heard from Leopold, which she’d expected. He was an honorable man and he would not correspond with her as he prepared to marry another woman.

Ah, but she’d heard plenty from Eliza and Hollis.

Eliza wrote that Leopold arrived in Helenamar as rumors swirled about his supposed treachery. But then he’d exposed the plot to sell the poor Weslorian women, and some Alucian women, too, Eliza believed, into slavery. He is a hero, Caro. Everyone says so. He risked his reputation and his engagement to expose that horrible plot. Eliza said he was being feted for his noble deeds. She said the entire court was talking about him, as he was not the person anyone expected to care so deeply about anything.

Caroline smiled when she read that part. She wondered what Leopold thought of it all.

Hollis brought her news from town when she came to visit one long weekend. She’d been very kind to Caroline in her gazette, but others had not been kind. All sorts of rumors had surfaced about Caroline and her loose morals. Whispers of the gentlemen she’d entertained, of trysts, of lies she’d purportedly told to hide these things. And the one that stung the most? That she’d not made the dresses she had so very graciously handed around to her friends, but had employed the secret services of a trained modiste.

Hollis had more news—Lord Ainsley had offered for a coal heiress, and once again, Katherine Maugham was left in the cold. Caroline felt a little sorry for her, really. Katherine desperately wanted a match and to be married. Hollis also told her that Mr. Cressidian, the Alucian gentleman, would be tried for his crime of slavery. She said that facts came to light indicating that not only had he profited from brokering the sale of women, but he’d also offered to slander the prince for a price. “It’s so disturbing,” Caroline said.

“It’s horrible,” Hollis agreed. “Do you know what I think is the most remarkable thing about it?”

Caroline shook her head.

“That Prince Leopold would allow his standing to suffer as he did for the sake of those women. Eliza said he has vowed to find all the young women sold into slavery if it’s the last thing he does.”

“I always knew he was a good man,” Caroline murmured.

Hollis laughed. “No, you didn’t, darling. You despised him.”

Caroline smiled wanly. “I mean I always knew he was after I despised him. Oh God, Hollis, I miss him so.”

Hollis had moved to sit beside her and laid her head on Caroline’s shoulder. “I know, darling. I still miss Percy.”

CAROLINE HAD STARTED gardening in the late autumn, intrigued by the way the roses managed to bloom in spite of the early frosts. Eliza wrote again with news that, at first, surprised and elated Caroline. The engagement with Eulalie Gaspar was ended, as her father was implicated in the slavery scheme. Nothing would happen to the Duke of Brondeny, of course, as the Weslorians accused Leopold of manufacturing such slanderous details about him. Neither would anything happen to Mr. Vinters, as the king relied too heavily on his counsel. This has displeased the prince greatly, and I think my husband, as well. It’s difficult for them to understand how their father would want the counsel of a man engaged in that sort of scheme.

Caroline understood it. To men like that, the women they’d harmed were just girls. Nothing to get upset about.

But her surprise and elation at the news about Eulalie soon vanished. She realized that Leopold would simply marry someone else. It would never be her. She could take some solace that the smug little face of Lady Eulalie would be smug no more.

But it would never be her.

She continued making dresses into the early winter, more than there could possibly be demand for in a village as small as Bibury. She took long walks in the afternoon to the extent that her boots began to wear at the heel. The weather was colder, so she began to wear Beck’s buckskins, belting them at the waist. And she continued gardening, shoving her hands into dirt, turning it over, preparing it for spring.

Beck came to call from time to time. He remarked one evening that she seemed different.

“How so?” she asked him as she stacked her feet into a chair at the dinner table and picked up a cheroot.

“More mature,” he said. “You’ve always been sure of yourself, darling, but now you are...comfortable somehow. I can’t rightly put my finger on it. It’s as if you don’t really care that smoking a cheroot is unacceptable and would ensure you’d not receive another invitation.”

She laughed. “I only mean to try it, Beck. Life is so boring without an adventure here or there.”

Beck leaned forward. “Are you happy, Caro?”

She shrugged. “I’m not unhappy. I suppose I’m as happy as I can be for the time being.” She drew from the cheroot and coughed violently. “You mustn’t worry about me, Beck. I always find my way.”