Page 102 of A Royal Kiss & Tell
He understood immediately. He turned to the girl, put his hand on her arm and spoke to her in Alucian. But Caroline could hear voices coming down the hall toward the room. She closed the door. “They are coming now!” she warned them.
“Go and get your things. Come round to the side of the house,” Leopold instructed Eowyn. “Take only what you can carry and speak to no one.”
The voices were drawing nearer. Caroline recognized Tom, Priscilla’s husband, and she was all but certain she heard Katherine’s voice, as well. “It’s too late! Hide, Eowyn!”
“Caroline!” Leopold said as Eowyn dove behind a chair.
There really was no place for the poor girl to hide. They would spot her right away, and they would assume the worst of her and Leopold. Caroline heard Farrington at the door. She knew instinctively the only way to hide that girl was to create a diversion. She ran to the prince. “I’m so very sorry,” she said, then threw her arms around Leopold with such force that he stumbled backward and had to catch her. Just as the door opened, Caroline kissed him. She kissed him with all the regret and longing she would carry with her the rest of her days.
Leopold returned her kiss with all his regret and longing. They were locked in a lover’s embrace. Their last embrace. Their last kiss.
Caroline heard Katherine’s cry of alarm, heard Farrington bellow for them to stop it at once. Caroline shoved away from Leopold and lunged toward the door. “It’s not what it seems!” she cried.
“Bloody hell, it’s not!” Farrington shouted. “And you, Highness, debauching this young woman!”
More people were coming, and Caroline moved toward Farrington. “I welcomed it!” she cried, and grabbed the man’s lapels.
“Caroline!” Leopold thundered and rushed after her. They all spilled into the hall, Caroline sobbing that she’d done nothing wrong, she’d merely followed her heart, and Leopold begging Farrington’s forgiveness. Everyone was shouting, Priscilla’s dogs were barking and Katherine was crying, which confused Caroline. Somehow, Hollis had reached her, had taken her hand and squeezed it, her face ashen and wide-eyed.
It was Beck who scared her the most. She’d never seen him so angry. He dug his fingers into her elbow and yanked her forward. She didn’t know what he said to their hosts—she tried to turn around, to see Leopold, but Farrington was railing at him, threatening him with the demise of good relations with Great Britain as he, too, tried to make his way to the entrance. And Priscilla, her good friend Priscilla, staring at her in horror. “In my house, Caroline? In myhouse?”
Somehow, Beck managed to force Caroline outside and into a waiting coach. She waited, fearing she would be ill, trying to see out the window at what was happening. But it was dark and she couldn’t make anything out. Several minutes later, Beck entered the coach, and he pounded the ceiling so hard she thought he’d put a fist through it.
“I can explain,” she tried, but Beck threw up a hand.
“Don’t,”he said, his voice deadly and low. “Not a word, Caroline. Not a damn word from you.”
They rode in an uncomfortable silence all the way home, and once there, Beck didn’t bother to help her from the coach. He leaped out and strode through the gate and up the stairs to his suite of rooms. The slamming of his door reverberated throughout the house.
Caroline slowly made her way to her room. Her legs felt heavy, and her heart ached. She fell listlessly onto the bed, facedown. She was exhausted, emotionally drained. She had ruined her reputation, she might never see Leopold again and she didn’t even know if Eowyn had escaped.
When the tears finally started to fall, they were not for her ruin. They were her grief at losing Leopold.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Quite a few people have come and gone from a particular house on Upper Brook Street in the last two days. One might assume someone had taken ill. It is entirely possible that is true, given that the events at a friend’s house left many hard and confused feelings among close acquaintances.
Ladies, if your husband is experiencing lethargy and an unwillingness to work, a teaspoon of licorice root to one’s tea is guaranteed to restore vitality. Carsons’ Licorice Root is available in measured doses for the unsuspecting husband.
—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and
Domesticity for Ladies
CAROLINECRIEDHERSELFto sleep and into the night between tears and sleeping. On the following day, she was dragged awake by the sudden streaming of sun in through her windows. She threw an arm over her eyes and moaned. “What time is it?”
“One o’clock,” Martha said from somewhere across the room.
Caroline opened her eyes. They were swollen from sobbing, and her head felt as if it were caught in a vise. She slowly pushed herself up, and a curtain of hair shielded her view of Martha. “The most terrible thing happened last night, Martha.”
Martha didn’t speak at first. Caroline squeezed her eyes shut then pushed her hair aside and looked at her lady’s maid.
Martha gave her a piteous look. “I heard, madam. Another maid has gone missing, and the tale of how she went missing was quick to spread. They say it’s a love triangle.”
“A love triangle?”
Martha glanced away. “You, the prince, and the maid.”
“Oh, good Lord,” Caroline whispered. “I’m ruined, aren’t I?”
