Page 73 of Romanced By the Orc

“Your husband is a clever enough fellow, as one knows,” he told her as a small group of finely dressed hangers-on hovered around him, intrigued by the flush of victory animating their Prince Regent. “Yet one can only make so many runs at the table without fortune finally shifting its favor.”

“Win or lose, it matters little,” Albion said. “As long as we all have a fine time.”

The Regent clicked his tongue. “Your good nature is without parallel, Lord Albion. Not only do you relinquish money easily,but you also compose and recite poetry. Astonishing. Wouldn’t you agree, my lady?”

Diana nodded and flung her fan open, hoping it helped mask the distress etched on her face. And not over Albion’s losses at the gaming table. Her husband knew how much money he had at his disposal and what amount he could safely lose—sums that would bankrupt nearly any other gentleman in London. Though she noted a stiff formality in the exchange between the Regent and Albion that she had never heard before, like they were players on stage pretending friendship. Perhaps her husband hadn’t won quite as gracefully as His Royal Highness was trying to make it sound.

“Your verse concerning the Phantom is wretchedly clever.” The Regent grasped his lapels, calling attention to his coat adorned with a blaze of medals that nearly outshone Orcan sapphires. “Consider finding a publisher for the verse. Perhaps one who can set it to music? One never knows. You might earn back some of your fortune that way.”

Her husband swept his elegant hands behind his back. “Not that it compares to your Shakespeare’s sonnets or such. But I felt moved to address this man who hides among us in verse. I said to myself, Albie. I said, Albie, you must become an expert on this matter, or the ladies shall find you a perfect bore.”

This comment compelled further laughter. Diana’s cheeks burned. She waved her fan, observing a lady or two running their eyes over her husband’s form.

“I see some fresh faces in our fair circle,” the Regent said, addressing the group as he would a regiment assembled for review. “Would you like to hear Lord Albion’s poem?” And then to Albion: “Might you see fit to relay it one more time?”

Albion shrugged his assent. “Why don’t you give it a go, Prinny? While I see about my horses. It’s been a blessedly long time since I asked for them.”

“Famous! Though one is saddened to see you take your leave of us so soon. Lady Higgins, shall you grace us with your presence for a few additional minutes?”

The Regent didn’t bother to wait for a response. And it seemed to her his voice was mocking, nearly cruel, as he gave the oration.

Has he taken to the sea?

Or with a woman did he flee?

God save this gent over me,

This Phantom of Chamberly.

Like flies to honey, the guests laughed, clapped, and repeated the childish rhyme, Diana felt as if she had transformed into a wind-up toy, compelled forever to smile without the benefit of emotions. The only words that stuck at the moment were those she had seen on the note to Edward Langley.

I shall journey to C. at daybreak to ensure all goes well. If you need to clarify any instructions, meet me in the dining room at a quarter of midnight.

It had been simple enough to commit those words to her memory, but what torture they had been in the minutes that followed.She had delivered the message to Sir Reginald in a hasty whisper, triggering a horrifying grin she would never banish from memory.Diana had complied. She became his spy. And she hated herself.

Ultimately, what choice could she make but one that protected her sister? If forced to choose, Lillian’s well-being would always come first.

Now, Reginald prowled around the group gathered, like a Phantom himself, steadily ignored by His Royal Highness.

Maybe Reginald didn’t know. Maybe Edward Langley’s notewasa love letter, after all, and of no use in identifying the Phantom. But then he must still give her credit for trying. Mustn’t he? Perhaps she would extricate herself from this miserable situation after all.

The best course of action, the least awful of many bad choices, was to deal with this shameful situation herself and not taint her husband. But the circumstances were now beyond her control. Before Reginald could enlist her help for his terrible mission again, she would beg Albion to extract Lillian.

In the meantime, however, she had to know who Reginald had found in the dining room. Once the Regent excused himself to make the smallest of talk with a fresh set of admirers, Diana caught Reginald’s eye. She inclined her head toward one side of the foyer, relatively empty, and Sir Reginald followed her lead.

“What of it?” Diana whispered once they were out of earshot of the other guests. “Did my intelligence assist?”

To her horror, he took a pinch of snuff from his box and indulged his vile habit, sniffing mildly afterward.

“Your information was most informative, my lady,” he told her.

The words were like a dagger of ice plunged into her heart. “You found him?”

“I located the man I sought,” Reginald said carefully. “The Duke of Rostin will have what he needs to apprehend this outlaw and bring him to justice.”

“Justice,” Diana muttered, the familiar shame drowning her last hope. She had satisfied Reginald’s request. For now. Who knew what he might ask of her next? As long as Lillian remained in Chamberly she was in peril.

“If you see fit to pursue it, you have a grand future ahead of you in spycraft.” Sir Reginald placed his snuff box back into the pocket of his frock coat. “I do not doubt that. Now, return to your husband, as is proper, dear. I’m sure he doesn’t want to be long without his wife. No matter her faults.”

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