A Royal Kiss and Tell

Caroline huffed. “He just confounds me, that’s all. That’s why I think that ladies of good reputation should steer very clear of him. He can be quite charming, but beneath the surface, this despicable behavior lurks. But the die has been cast, hasn’t it? Priscilla said Lady Pennybacker means to reduce her guest list, as well.”

“Caro! What are you doing?”

She hadn’t really meant to set all these wheels in motion, but Priscilla couldn’t stop telling everyone she knew, and Augusta, well... Caroline had been in a bit of a mood during that call. “My friends would not want someone of questionable morals in their homes. I have no choice in the matter, as Beck thinks he and the prince are the best of friends.”

“Well. I suppose you know best,” Hollis said with a hint of sarcasm.

“I don’t know if I do or not, but I’m ashamed that I ever kissed him.”

Hollis gasped.

Caroline waved her hand at Hollis as if it were a trifling matter. But it was no trifling matter. Her heart was permanently singed from that kiss. “It was nothing! I was angry, that’s all.”

“Angry! Why would you kiss someone if you were angry?” Hollis scoffed. “Don’t you dare sit there looking so coy, Caroline Hawke. Tell me what happened.”

Naturally, Caroline told her everything. That’s why she’d come, after all—to unburden herself. She told Hollis about Beck’s new determination to see her married, and how he’d been lecturing her in his study, and how she hadn’t seen the prince in the room until it was too late. How she accused the prince of meddling and how he’d called her Caroline. She didn’t tell Hollis that when he said her name in that low, silky voice of his, it had curled around her like a warm silk wrap and held her there. She explained to Hollis that the act had been so impetuous, that it was almost as if someone else entirely had taken over her body, and she hardly realized what she was doing until she did it.

Hollis sat back, grinning with wonder at Caroline.

“Stop grinning at me,” Caroline groaned.

“That was bold, even for you, Caro. Do you think you’re in love with him?”

The question jolted Caroline. “For God’s sake, Hollis! Of course not.”

“Smitten, then. You must admit it, it was very kind of him to bring you flowers while you lay ill.”

“He didn’t bring flowers for me, he brought them for Ann. Honestly, I can’t abide him. He deserves Lady Eulalie, if you ask me. I can’t imagine why she’d want to bind herself to him.”

Hollis laughed. “Can’t you? She is binding herself to him for wealth and privilege, and he to her for political alliance.”

“But that’s not what marriage is for,” Caroline complained. “One should marry for felicity and companionship, not to keep from being murdered.” She plucked irritably at her sleeve. “I would avoid that sort of arrangement with all that I had.”

“You’re not a prince and you don’t believe in marriage in the best of circumstances,” Hollis said.

“That is not true,” Caroline insisted.

Hollis shrugged. “All right. You fear marriage.”

“I don’t fear it. Contrary to what you think, I should very much like to be married. But...” She winced. “I want to be wanted for me. Not for my looks. Or the size of my dowry. Those things can’t sustain a marriage.”

“You bring to mind Mary Pressley,” Hollis said thoughtfully. “She fell very much in love with Malcolm Byrd, and he supposedly with her, and she’s been terribly unhappy ever since.”

“He treats her like a dog,” Caroline said flatly. Mary was a childhood friend of Caroline’s. A sweet girl, who’d never wanted anything more than to be married and be a mother. She was courted by Mr. Byrd, who had charmed her down to her toes. She fell very much in love with him. She and Caroline would lie on Caroline’s bed and spend hours talking about Mr. Byrd, and what her wedding dress would look like and how many children she might have.

But the reality turned out to be quite different from the daydream. Malcolm Byrd was nothing like what he’d presented to Mary while courting her. He was a beast, he was cruel and he didn’t hesitate to strike Mary if she failed to please him.

Once, after Mary had given birth to her first child, Caroline had begged her to run from him, but Mary had laughed sourly. “And go where, Caroline? My elderly parents? I have no money, nothing to my name. He would never allow me to take our son. This is my cross to bear.” And then she had taken Caroline’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “You never know a person until you’ve shared a bed and a house. It’s impossible to know their true nature. Mind you, have a care.”

That stark warning had stayed with Caroline. Gentlemen would come to call, perfectly pleasant and polite gentlemen. But invariably, she would wonder about their true nature, and they certainly never inquired after hers. For every marriage like Hollis and Percival’s, or Eliza and Sebastian’s, she knew a story of another, darker marriage.

But she would concede that she did very much want to be loved.

“I think you should tell the prince how you feel,” Hollis said.