A Royal Kiss and Tell

This was not how she wanted to look when she put the man in his place. It was always best to dress a man down when one was dressed all the way up. She needed her hair to be curled, to be clothed in one of the beautiful gowns she’d made for the trip to Alucia, embellished within an inch of its life. But the prince leaned forward all the same, squinting at her. “Lady Caroline...you look awful.”

“How dare you,” she said weakly.

“Have you seen a doctor?”

She gathered her dressing gown around her. “I don’t require a doctor.”

“You look like you’re in desperate need of one to me.”

She wouldn’t mind discussing her theory of the potential for permanently losing the use of her legs with a qualified medical professional, but she would save that for another time. “Don’t try to divert my attention, sir. What are you doing in this hall?”

“Hawke!” he suddenly shouted, startling her. He put his hand on her arm as if to steady her.

She looked down at his arm. “What in blazes are you doing?”

“You’re wobbling. Hawke!” he shouted again, and this time caught her by the elbow.

“I beg your pardon!” She looked up at him and winced at the blinding pain behind her eyes. She was tall, but he was a head taller than her and twice as broad. He dwarfed her. Or was she shrinking? She felt as if she were shrinking. She must be shrinking because he now looked rather concerned. She looked down again and realized he had moved her around so that she was propped fully against the wall. She wasn’t actually shrinking, but she was scarcely holding herself up.

“Whoa,” he said, and caught her with one arm around her waist.

“What is happening?” She was terribly light-headed. Everything seemed so wavy.

She heard a door open behind her, and then the familiar stride of her brother coming down the hall, the bounce of light from the candelabra he carried. “What is it?” he asked as he reached them, and looked down at Caroline. He recoiled with a gasp. “Good God, you look like death.”

“Well, thank you, everyone, but I didn’t have time to dress.”

“Where is Martha?” he demanded. He put his arm around her and shoved the candelabra at the prince. “Come on, then, back to bed.”

“I think she should have a doctor,” the prince said, and held the candelabra aloft so that Beck could lean in and examine her. “She looks a bit green, doesn’t she?”

“Disturbingly green. Martha? Martha!” Beck bellowed. He pressed a hand to her cheek. “God help me, you’re on fire!”

“Beck! You’re hurting my ears,” Caroline said, wincing. Everything about her hurt.

“Do you need help?” the prince asked, and Caroline wasn’t sure who, exactly, he was addressing.

“No,” she said at the very moment Beck also said no. But Beck added a gracious, “Thank you, I can manage.” He dipped down and picked Caroline up before she knew what was happening and began to march along the hallway.

“I dropped my handkerchief,” Caroline protested. “And what of my soup?”

“I employ a host of servants so that someone may bring you soup on occasions like this,” Beck said as he huffed along. “Why did you not call one? Why did you not call me?”

“You wouldn’t have come. You’ve been out with your friends. Why did you bring dozens of them?”

“What are you talking about? There are four of us to dine, that’s all,” Beck said as he started his ascent of the stairs.

“But why him, Beck?” she moaned, and pressed her head to his shoulder.

Beck paused on the first landing to catch his breath. “Lord, but you’re heavier than you look. Why him who?” he asked through a pant.

“The Arse of Alucia, that’s who.”

Somewhere, someone coughed lightly.

“For heaven’s sake, Caro. Why didn’t you tell me you were so ill?”

“I’m not so ill,” she said, but could feel the heaviness of her eyelids.

“Shall I take over?”

Caroline’s lids flew open. He’d had the audacity to follow them up the stairs? Worse, had he heard her complaining about him to Beck?

“I’ve got her,” Beck said, and continued his march, bouncing Caroline along as he went.

“That’s quite a fever,” another man said.

Caroline recognized the voice of Robert Ladley, the Earl of Montford. As if this moment could possibly be any worse, now there were three of them gathered. “Beck,” she pleaded.

“This way,” Beck said.

By the sound of it, they were followed by a small army. Caroline buried her face in Beck’s shoulder again so she’d not have to look at the Arse of Alucia. And so he wouldn’t smell her breath or see how parched her lips were. This was, without a doubt, the height of humiliation, particularly as she took such great pride in her looks.

Beck opened the door to her room and strode to her bed, depositing her there, then pulling the cover over her. Caroline dared not look around her. But then she did, and no less than four men were staring down at her with various expressions of concern and horror. It was worse than she thought.

“I’ll fetch Dr. Callaway, shall I?” Montford asked.