A Royal Kiss and Tell

“That’s right, a chicken, Lady Caroline,” he said to her bodice. “The poultry at the hotel is not to my liking.” His gaze moved to the pert tip of her nose. And then to her succulent lips.

“But you have servants.”

“You sound like your brother.”

“Do I? That is somewhat alarming to hear, but I know that the difference between me and my brother is that Beck would probably accept your explanation without question. I won’t.” She tilted her head slightly as her gaze moved to his jaw, and up to his ear.

“But that’s the rub, madam. I don’t need or want your approval.” He desperately wanted to take her by the chin and force her to look him in the eye. He leaned so close that she had to look up. “No offense meant,” he added impertinently.

She smiled for the long moment it took for her gaze to travel lazily to his lips. “None taken.”

“Excellent. Then we may both be about our day.” He touched the brim of his hat and stepped around her. But when he did, his hand made contact with hers. It was a very slight tangle of fingers, hardly anything at all, and yet it set off fireworks inside him. “Good day, Lady Caroline. I shall leave you to your bouncing about like a rubber ball.”

“You’re scurrying away like a rat or a guilty man, Your Highness. What about your chicken?”

“Lady Caroline?”

Leo started almost as badly as Lady Caroline. She abruptly whirled around. “Mr. Morley!” She was breathless, either with surprise or delight, Leo didn’t know. “You found me!”

The gentleman was about the same height as Lady Caroline. He’d walked up behind them holding a basket carrying bread and flowers. “I thought I’d lost you,” he said with a nervous smile. “It would be quite easy to be lost in here, I think.” His gaze shifted to Leo. “I beg your pardon, sir. May I...?”

“Oh, I do beg your pardon, Mr. Morley,” Lady Caroline said, and Leo prepared to be introduced as a prince, at which point he’d have to make some elaborate excuse for being here admiring a row of hanging chicken carcasses without a royal guard in sight. “Mr. Chartier, my friend, Mr. Morley.”

Leo was surprised and relieved by the tiny bit of charity from her. Why she’d done it, he wasn’t certain, and he glanced at her questioningly.

She returned a faint smile.

“I am honored to be called your friend, Lady Caroline,” Mr. Morley said, grinning like a lad. “Mr. Chartier, how do you do?”

Leo nodded.

“Are you a Londoner, then?” Mr. Morley asked as the two ladies Leo had seen earlier arrived at his side, each of them carrying a small cake.

“At present,” Leo said. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, but if you will excuse me, I’m in a bit of a rush. Good day to you,” he said, and touching the brim of his hat, he turned to leave.

“Good day, Mr. Chartier!” Lady Caroline called in a singsong voice after him.

He could feel Lady Caroline’s gaze on his back, and he swore he could hear her laughter. Impudent woman. Impudent, irreverent, beautiful woman. Impudent, irreverent, beautiful, enticing woman.

With a mouth he would very much like to kiss into submission.

CHAPTER TWELVE

A crate of squawking chickens delivered to the Clarendon Hotel has upset the genteel patrons to the point of complaint. The chickens were a gift for a prince of a fellow from a Humble admirer in Lancashire. It has been said that the prince is so in search of good poultry that he took it upon himself to visit the Leadenhall market. Perhaps the prince might endeavor to raise his own perfect poultry in the ruins of Herstmonceux Castle.

A recent encounter at Gunter’s Tea Shop between a gentleman whose debts have been questioned and the gentleman who questioned them, was devoid of the dictates of polite society and resulted in both gentlemen being ejected from the premises. This serves as a solemn reminder that one must always bow to an acquaintance, even if that acquaintance is one’s enemy.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

Domesticity for Ladies