A Royal Kiss and Tell

The larger man tried to run, but he was no match for the younger, fitter guards, and they tackled him to the ground. Caroline may have cried out with alarm as they wrestled him, but it didn’t matter—no one heard her over the tussle. It took three guards to drag the man to his feet while one bound his hands. Two more guards appeared to help drag him away.

After they’d gone, Caroline stood rooted to her spot, still shaking a little. Who was that man? Had they arrested him? Had Prince Leopold set the guards on him?

What on earth had she just witnessed?

CHAPTER SEVEN

A supper was held to conclude the royal wedding festivities, attended by the few remaining foreign dignitaries who had traveled from afar to attend the wedding. The Duchess of Tannymeade hosted the supper as one of her first official acts. For the occasion, Queen Daria lent her a tiara boasting sixteen emeralds and matching the emerald earrings the queen had earlier presented her as a gift.

There were many notable figures assembled for the last celebratory meal, and perhaps none so intriguing as the Wren of Wesloria, whose song is believed to have captured the heart of a royal prince. It is said the marriage agreement has already been negotiated. Expect a formal announcement by the end of summer.

Ladies, when traveling by sea, it is best to leave your finer fabrics in your trunk, as salt spray will ruin a good garment and keep your clothing damp.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

KADRO, LEO’S GUARD, casually reported that Lysander had been detained. The news sliced through Leo. “When?”

“This afternoon,” Kadro said. “In the palace gardens.”

After he’d left him? After Leo had strode from the garden with that terrible, heart-pounding feeling of unease?

Leo still didn’t know why he’d gone to meet Lysander at all. Maybe because he didn’t want to hear Eulalie sing again. He’d sat through two songs and it felt like ants were crawling up and down his legs, so anxious was he to be at anything else.

But his mother had been enthralled. “The duchess must hear,” she’d insisted, and away they’d all trooped, in search of Eliza.

Or perhaps he’d gone because he was afraid he would be saddled with Lady Caroline if he lingered. He didn’t know if he could engage in conversation with her without wanting to tie his neckcloth around her mouth. He imagined it for one gloriously silly and strangely arousing moment—Lady Caroline’s mouth bound while her eyes flashed hotly at him.

Whatever his reasons, Leo had gone.

Lysander was much larger than what he recalled, both physically and in bearing. Leo had immediately told Lysander he had no interest in anything he had to say, and to tell him so for his own good was the only reason he’d come round at all.

“Ah. Then you don’t care to know what your future father-in-law might be about?” Lysander had asked slyly. “The Duke of Brondeny?”

Well, that had certainly rattled Leo. He’d only just met the man himself. How could Lysander possibly know anything about the duke? “What of him?”

Lysander then told Leo something so outrageous and unthinkable that he was stunned. He warned Lysander that saying such things was dangerously slanderous. He said he didn’t believe it. “Lies. Whoever has told you this is lying.”

“When you return to England, there is a young woman who can prove to you what I say is true. She is in the employ of Lord Hill. Her name is Ann—”

“I don’t care,” Leo had said before he could fill him with any more scandalous news.

But Lysander patiently continued. “Her name is Ann Marble, and she is a maid in an important man’s house. She has assisted one of our—”

“You can’t come here with this news,” Leo hissed in English. Then in Alucian he said, “Not here, man! Do you think these walls don’t have ears?” He’d been so certain of it that he glanced over his shoulder. It felt to him as if the trees were listening.

“Mans princis, will you turn your back?” Lysander had asked quietly. My prince.