A Royal Kiss and Tell

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.”