A Royal Kiss & Tell

by Julia London

  “Ha. It will take more than an ague to kill me, sir.”

  He smiled. The man was simply stunning in his masculinity and good looks. “That’s the very reason I didn’t believe it. Do come in.” He stepped aside so that she could enter the foyer.

  Caroline removed her bonnet and dangled it from one finger in his direction. “Donovan, on my word, you are an Adonis in the flesh.”

  “Pardon?” He took her bonnet and tossed it onto a console.

  “A Greek god.”

  One of his dark brows arched. “You are mistaken, milady—I’m but a regular Englishman.”

  She laughed. “You can’t be a regular Englishman, because you are impervious to flattery.”

  “Not entirely.” He smiled again.

  Something delightful fluttered in her veins. “Where is your mistress?” she asked with a coy smile.

  “In her study, naturally, where she spends most of her day.” He gestured for her to follow and led her to Hollis while whistling a cheery tune. He stepped into the room and said, “Lady Caroline is calling.”

  “Caro!” Hollis called happily from somewhere inside.

  Caroline slid past Donovan with a wanton smile. He returned that smile with a smile of amusement, then closed the door behind her as she entered Hollis’s cluttered study.

  Hollis was bent over the layout of her gazette. She’d turned what had once been a very lovely room into an office, where she pieced together her gazette before sending off a template twice monthly to Gilbert and Rivington for printing.

  A repurposed dining table dominated the center of the clutter, upon which Hollis had spread out the pages of the current edition of her gazette. Past issues were stacked around the floor and on shelves that Donovan had constructed. A tabby cat was stretched across the stacks on the floor, and another sat like an ornament on one of the shelves. There were books and strings and scissors and visors that Hollis wore when she worked late in the night.

  Hollis had also taken to using a monocle to examine the print layout of her gazette, and at present, she held it up to one eye.

  “This looks more and more like a government office,” Caroline complained, glancing around her. She took some broadsheets from the seat of the only armchair in the room and shoved them onto a shelf and sat.

  Hollis put down her monocle. “What brings you round on this fine day, other than to seduce my household help?”

  “I can’t help myself, Hollis. Donovan is a beautiful man and he deserves to be admired, and you won’t do it.”

  “He is admired, you may depend. Last week, he accompanied me to the market, and there we met a lass who put herself in our path at every turn. She reminded me of you. Very tenacious, that one.”

  Caroline laughed and stacked her feet on top of a pile of gazettes on an ottoman. “I have news.”

  “Splendid!” Hollis said. “I’ve just enough space for a bit of gossip in the next issue. Tell me.”

  “You know about Prince Leopold and the brothel.”

  “I do indeed! You came here with the news yourself, remember?”

  Caroline remembered. She’d made a mad dash, as she recalled it now. “Which happened only a week after I spotted the prince chasing our maid Ann around Leadenhall market.”

  “I still can’t believe you went there!” Hollis said with delight. “I wrote Eliza straightaway and told her you went to Leadenhall in the company of Mr. Morley and his sisters.” She laughed.

  “Never mind that,” Caroline said. “I suspected the prince was a rake, but the visit to the brothel was the truth. But then Priscilla told Lady Montgomery—”

  “Oh! I heard about that,” Hollis said. “She was incensed he would do something so terrible before her ball.”

  “And naturally, I told Lady Norfolk, because she would never forgive me if Lady Montgomery banished the prince and she didn’t have the opportunity to do the same.”

  “You did?” Hollis asked.

  “I did! It’s wretched behavior for a man of his stature.” She folded her arms and stared off into space for a moment.

  She realized Hollis hadn’t said anything and glanced in her direction. “What? Why do you look at me like that?”

  “Like what? Like I’m terribly curious about what goes on in your head? I thought you had clearly resolved to be less infatuated with him, darling.”

  “I’m not infatuated with him,” Caroline scoffed.

  “Really? Because this is the second call you’ve made to my house since crawling off your deathbed, and both times have been to complain about him.”

  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 dow
ry. 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.

  “How I feel about what? You’re mad, Hollis,” she said, and Hollis giggled. “I didn’t come here for that sort of advice.”

  “You came because I am your confessor and your conscience. Want to go round and see Papa with me?”

  “I’d love nothing better,” Caroline said, and sighed. “But I can’t today. Beck and I are to Arundel on the morrow. I promised Augusta I’d call. She’s terribly worried about being lonely. She has no one but her children to entertain her, you know.”

  “Ooh,” Hollis said, her eyes rounding. “They may be the least entertaining children I know. Wild little beasts. Always carrying on about a pony.”

  Caroline stood. She walked around the table to bend over Hollis and give her a hug.

  “Farewell, darling! My love to Beck. See you next week, then?” Hollis asked as Caroline started out of the room.

  “If not before!” Caroline called over her shoulder.

  She grabbed her bonnet from the console where Donovan had placed it and walked out into bright sunlight. She looked up, blinking at blue sky. She didn’t love Prince Leopold. Just because he was the only man in a very long time to have filled her imagination, or to have failed to notice her facade, or had seen past it, didn’t mean she loved him or held him in any sort of particular esteem. So why did the thought of him leaving England unsettle her so? Why should she feel a little bit bereft, a little bit remorseful and a little bit heartsick?

  Because she was a fool, that was why, with a terrible habit of being attracted to rakes. She would think of the kiss often, but she would not miss him a moment after he’d gone.

  She convinced herself that was true and even believed it...up until the moment he climbed into the coach that would ferry them to Arundel.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A lady generous in spirit and in person is adding to her household, and happily, it is not another dog. In this circumstance it is the addition of two new chambermaids. It is expected the lady and her lord will entertain many over the coming weeks of summer, beginning with the first garden party of the season.

  Ladies, apply a toilet mask to your face each night liberally coated in sheep fat. After two weeks of night use, skin will revive its youthful vigor.

  —Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and

  Domesticity for Ladies

  LEO COULD COUNT on one hand the number of times he’d actually felt a woman’s disdain for him. Actually, he didn’t even need his hand, for he counted exactly zero times. Until today.

  Today, when he’d stepped into the coach in front of Clarendon Hotel, Lady Caroline’s gaze had turned to ice. Leo had expected their first meeting after that kiss to be interesting, but he hadn’t expected that. It was almost as if she had determined she was the injured party, when in fact it was she who had taken liberties with him.

  She folded her arms and glared at her brother. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Beck blinked with surprise. “The meaning of...?”

  She slid her gaze to Leo.

  “Prince Leopold? Well, His Highness is to Arundel, like us, and I offered him to ride along.”

  “What? He has his guards. Shouldn’t they be the ones to escort him?”

  “They are escorting us, Caro. They are riding behind, but the coach is obviously more comfortable for the prince.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Beck,” she said irritably, and began to fluff the many, many flounces on her skirt.

  “God as my witness, I never understand you. What is the matter? Has he offended you?”

  Lady Caroline’s face turned pink.

  “Je, please tell me if I have offended you, Lady Caroline, and I will do my utmost to atone for it. When last we spoke, I had the impression you esteemed me quite a lot.” Leo smiled.

  Caroline’s color deepened. “I do beg your pardon, Your Highness, if that was the impression I gave you. I was being polite.”

  “Ah,” he said, his smile deepening. “Then I must commend you—you were zealously polite.”

  “It’s called civility, sir.”

  “Is that what it’s called.” He gave a shake of his head. “I am forever learning proper English.”

  “What have I missed?” Beck demanded of the two of them.

  “Nothing!” Caroline said, and looked away from Leo.

  But Leo did not look away from her. He rather enjoyed her discomfit. He was the one who was always back on his heels when they met, and he didn’t mind that, for once, she was the unsteady one. He liked how it turned her cheeks an appealing shade of pink, and how it made her green eyes sparkle so brilliantly with vexation.

  “It is clearly something,” Beck said, sounding confused.

  “Really, Beck? Have you forgotten that you started it by seeking the advice of His Royal Highness about what to do with your poor, burdensome, unmarried sister?”

  “I didn’t ask for his advice,” Beck corrected her. “I know precisely what needs to be done. You’ll see.”

  Lady Caroline rolled her eyes. But Leo was interested in what Beck thought needed to be done.

  “I’ve some prospects for you,” Beck said.

  That caught Caroline’s attention. She looked at her brother curiously. “Who?”

  “Ladley, for one.”

  She laughed. “Your old school chum? Robert Ladley has never passed a whisky or an ale he didn’t drink.”

  Beck’s brows dipped as this was news to him. “I beg your pardon. Ladley was sober enough to go with all due haste to fetch a doctor the night you almost died.”

  “I didn’t almost die, and is it not true that very recently you had to have the help of two footmen to haul him out to a hackney?”

  Beck’s brows sank deeper. “One time.”

  “Who else?” Lady Caroline chirped, having dismissed the Earl of Montford as a prospect.

  Beck sniffed. “Lord March.”

  Leo didn’t know Lord March, but Lady Caroline clearly did. She slowly turned her head and pinned her brother with a look that made even Leo cringe.

  “He’s not
as bad as you think,” Beck said quickly. “I know what is said of him, but just because Hollis prints it doesn’t make it true.”

  “She happens to be exceedingly accurate in most things. Keep thinking, Beck. And really, this seems neither the time nor place to discuss my dismal marriage prospects. We’d not want to make the drive tedious for His Royal Highness.”

  “He doesn’t mind,” Beck said confidently, when, in fact, Leo did indeed mind. “You mustn’t think of him as a prince, really, Caro. He’s more like...like an uncle.”

  “An uncle?” Leo said, incredulous.

  “My point is, you’re like family now,” Beck said. “You are the brother of Prince Sebastian, married to Eliza, and Caro, you have always said you and Eliza are more sisters than friends. God knows she and Hollis treat me like an outnumbered brother.”

  Caroline stared at Leo. Leo stared back. He could feel the tension between them, could feel it fill the carriage and press against the walls, could detect the scent of desire mixed pleasingly with her perfume. “Fine,” she said. “He’s my uncle.”

  “I am not your uncle,” Leo said. “I am no one’s uncle,” he added for Beck’s benefit, but neither of them appeared to be listening to him. Lady Caroline had positioned herself so that her gaze was on the window and the passing scenery of trees and rolling hills dotted with sheep. And Beck, upon seeing the same rolling hills, launched into a tale about a hunt he and Norfolk had participated in several years ago where the dogs had been thrown off the trail of a fox by a dead deer.

  It was enough to put a grown man to sleep.

  After what seemed an hour of mindless chatter, Leo felt himself sliding off into dreamland when he was suddenly jolted by a strange bounce in the carriage. He sat up. Beck was leaning forward, straining to see out the window as the coach rolled to a halt.

  “What the devil? Stay here, the both of you,” Beck said sternly. He flung open the door and hopped out, then slammed the door shut behind him. Leo could hear him calling up to the driver, asking if it was a wheel.

  Caroline slowly pushed herself upright, her gaze locked on Leo.

  Leo leaned back against the squabs. The sound of men talking, or perhaps even arguing, faded into the distance.