A Royal Kiss and Tell

“I’ve the race results,” Hawke said, and patted down his chest, as if he’d pinned them there. “Where are they? They must be in the study. Excuse me,” he said, and strode out of the salon.

Leo put down his teacup and looked at Caroline. “What is the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, clearly.”

She glanced across the room. Garrett was standing patiently at the door. “I need to talk to you,” she said softly.

“And I desperately need to talk to you,” he murmured.

“Here they are!” Beck had returned and was waving a piece of paper in his hand. “You’ll be as proud when you see how the Alucian horse fared.” He sat next to Leo and proceeded to go over the race times of all the horses entered in the race.

Caroline put down her teacup. “Beck, darling, aren’t you forgetting? You’re to dine with Lord Ainsley this evening and ascertain if he intends to offer for my hand.”

Beck started. “Good Lord, I am. Thank you, Caro. Leo, will you please excuse me?” he said. “The time got away from me. My apologies, Leo. I got a bit carried away. Caro, you’ll see the prince out, will you?” Beck asked as he came to his feet.

“Garrett!” Beck called, striding from the room. “Send Jones to me! I don’t want to be late!”

When he’d gone, and the butler with him, Caroline said, “Have you ever in your life known someone more obsessed with horses?” She abruptly stood from the settee and went to the window.

Leo did, too. He didn’t know how to broach this delicate situation with her. “Looking for someone?” he asked, peering out the window. He could just see the top of his coach.

Caroline turned around and leaned up against the window frame.

“Caroline, I—”

“May I ask you something?” she interrupted.

“Je, of course.”

“I’ve heard you’re returning to Alucia quite soon. Is that true?”

He’d long since learned not to question how things were known about him. They simply were. “Who told you so?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, but I—”

“Is it true?”

He stared into her shining green eyes and tried to find words. There were so many bloody emotions bubbling in him. Emotions he needed a drink to dull, but alas, had foregone the opportunity. “Je. It can’t be avoided.”

Something flickered in her eyes. It was like the flame of a candle sputtering out.

“You knew I would return eventually.”

“Yes. But I thought it would be the end of summer.” She bit her lip and looked down at the floor.

Her reaction was disconcerting. There was one thing about Caroline Hawke he could entirely depend upon—she was not afraid to let him know exactly where she stood or what she thought. She never looked sad. Leo dipped his head to see her face. “I will mourn you. Every day.”

She glanced up.

“You don’t believe me? Oh, but I will mourn you more than you know, Caroline. I’ve come to depend on your company.”

“Really?” Caroline asked softly. There was a different light in her eyes now. They were both dull and shiny. She was looking at him through unshed tears.

“Very much,” he said earnestly and shifted closer to her.

“May I ask you something else?”

Je, I love you, Caroline. I love you. “Ask me anything. What is it you want to know?”

“Don’t lie to me, I beg you. Do you plot with the Weslorians to overthrow your father?”

He couldn’t have been more stunned than if she’d slapped him. “W-what?”

“Are they spies? Have they come here to plot with you? For the life of me, I don’t understand, and I’ve tried, but nothing makes sense.”

“Has who come? What spies? What the devil are you talking about?”

“The maids!” she whispered loudly, and looked toward the open door.

He stared at her, trying to make sense of this. “Are you asking me if the maids are spies? That is absurd.”

“Then why, Leopold? What have you done with them? They’re Weslorian, aren’t they? And you took them and where are they now?”

He blanched as all plausible explanations went out of his head. Bloody hell, he wished for a vat of whisky just now. Something to dull this discomfort. But he was not that man anymore. He hadn’t been that man since he met Lysander in the garden. “I will admit to being many things, but I am not a traitor. Christ Almighty, you think I’d plot to overthrow my own father?”

“Then please explain it to me,” she begged him.

Leo was torn by this request—he did love Caroline, and he wanted to protect her from knowing what evil there was in this world. She was light, she was happiness and he would prefer the ugliness not touch her. But it was more than that. He didn’t want her to look at him with pity. To see what he suspected she and everyone else knew—that he was a prince with no true talent other than drinking. That he was on a mission that was impossible for someone like him. That he was so bad at it that he now had to ask for her considerable help.

But his reluctance to speak caused her to jump to conclusions of her own. “Dear God, it’s worse than I thought.”