A Royal Kiss and Tell

“Fetch Ann. Have her take these flowers to Lady Caroline, compliments of His Royal Highness Prince Leopold.”

Leo winced. Lady Caroline would read far too much into that, he was certain.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Garrett, but Ann has gone to fetch her soup.”

Leo’s ears pricked up.

“Then you take them,” Garrett said. “I must attend his lordship.”

There was a lot of movement, a rustling of fabric, a small sound of exasperation. But then Leo heard Garrett’s sure footfall move away. An idea suddenly came to him, and he half leaped to the door before Susan could get away. He poked his head around the corner of the frame to see the maid standing where Garrett had left her, a pile of bed linens in one arm and his flowers in the other hand. When she saw him, her eyes widened, and she glanced nervously down the corridor. She looked as if she wanted to flee.

“May I be of service?” He smiled his most charming smile.

The maid blinked. “I, ah... I can...this is not...” she stammered.

Leo stepped out of the salon. “Susan...allow me to be of service,” he said smoothly.

CHAPTER TEN

A stalwart patron of the opera has recently taken to riding on Rotten Row in the evenings. It is said she will not miss the appointment, for her husband’s gift of proper riding lessons has come with the services of an instructor who is not only a competent rider, he has eyes the color of a summer sky. Our lady does prefer summer to other seasons.

The new trend in home ownership, begun by a royal visitor to our shores, is to find abandoned ruins to renovate for purposes that defy this writer’s imagination.

Ladies, it is never too soon to introduce obedience into the lives of your children. Experts advise that when they begin to express what they want, either with words or gestures, obedience should be the first lesson taught.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies

CAROLINE FELT AS if she’d been living in a cave somewhere far away from the world and from London, and it left her feeling very tired and cross. “Am I to live, Martha?” she asked. “Please answer truly. I want no false hope.”

“You are to live a long and happy life, Lady Caroline,” Martha said reassuringly, and rolled her onto her side.

Martha and another maid were putting fresh linens on her bed, which necessitated a lot of rolling her back and forth. “Can this not wait?” Caroline complained.

“No, milady, it cannot,” Martha said firmly, and used another cold compress to wipe her face.

Caroline pushed her hand away. She felt grimy and sticky, and when she put her hand to her hair, she felt on the verge of tears. It was a terrible tangle. She imagined it would take weeks to return to her former glorious self.

The commotion around her eventually settled, and Caroline closed her eyes once more, ignoring the whispering as the maids scurried around her. She heard someone mention soup and said, “Yes, soup, please.”

There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and then, blessedly, nothing. But as she lay there, she became aware of a smell so sweet that she had to open her eyes and see what it was. Well, she opened one eye, as her face was mashed against the pillow. She thought she saw the figure of a man standing beside her bed. It had to be a dreamy hallucination. Or the wire dress form, shaped to her figure, which she kept in her room. She’d been working on her latest sartorial creation when she’d taken ill.

She lifted her head so she’d have the benefit of both eyes. That was not a wire dress form, nor was it a hallucination or apparition. No, that was very clearly the Arse of Alucia, smiling down at her and holding her grandmother’s vase full of fragrant yellow flowers.

“Am I disturbing you?” he asked pleasantly, as if they were at an afternoon social function, or as if they were just leaving church services and strolling along a path. What the devil was he doing in her room? And why was he holding those flowers? She managed to get herself up on an elbow to look him over. “Do you...do you live here now?” she asked uncertainly. She wouldn’t put anything past Beck.

He laughed. “No, but I’m very close by. I’ve taken rooms at the Clarendon.”