Page 37 of A Royal Kiss & Tell
“Not Newgate,” Beck argued. “Leadenhall for poultry, Newgate for beef. Everyone knows it.” He looked at Leo. “Tell your man to go to Leadenhall.”
“Yes, thank you—I will.” That answered the question of where. But as the four of them prepared to leave the gentlemen’s club and seek supper, he moved on to fretting about how he’d convince Miss Marble to tell him what he needed.
ONWEDNESDAY,Leo had to convince his valet, Freddar, that he did indeed want to dress like an unassuming gentleman of English descent. “But the cut of the English suit does not serve your physique, Highness,” Freddar had sniffed.
“It serves me well enough. And a hat, Freddar. Not a beaver hat. Something less conspicuous than beaver.”
“Lessconspicuous,” Freddar repeated, as if he didn’t understand the word.
“I’d like a plain hat,” Leo clarified.
Freddar frowned. “As you wish, Highness,” he said primly, his curtness signaling that he was being made to do this under duress.
Kadro and Artur, too, seemed to participate in Leo’s excursion under duress. He overheard Kadro complain to Artur that the English coats were restrictive.
But Leo rather liked it. And he liked the plain hat with the wide brim. He was able to wander the wide lanes of the Leadenhall market with scarcely a notice.
The market wasfascinating. So many people, so many animal carcasses! It wasn’t that Leo had never been to markets—he’d visited them on occasion in Helenamar. But those ventures were always done with a coterie of royal observers, and the visit arranged so he’d see only what the hosts wanted him to see. In England, he’d had opportunity to enter markets, of course, but there had never been any need to actually do so. The idea of wandering through stalls of meats and leathers and various goods he did not want had never crossed his mind.
Well, he had no idea what he’d been missing! He’d commanded Kadro and Artur to wait at a public house near the entrance of the market, so that he might stroll at his leisure. Just the number of beef carcasses alone hanging from the tops of the stall fronts were a sight to behold.
He was so entranced with the number of people and the sale of the meat that he very nearly collided with an old woman who was carrying the carcass of a sheep wrapped around her shoulders. She looked through him and carried on to her stall, one foot before the other, trudging along as if no one else was in the market.
Costermongers moved in between the shoppers, barking out their wares, singing about their fruits and vegetables, their herbs and flowers. People crowded the stalls, bartering for their cuts of meat. Ale was sold out of carts, and gentlemen strolled through the lanes with tin tankards. An enterprising young man had roasted legs of mutton to sell, too, and the smell made Leo’s mouth water.
On another aisle were leather goods. Belts and knife sheaths, saddles and shoes. Leo walked past a heated argument that had broken out at one tanner’s post. The gentleman apparently thought the tanner’s price for leather to make boots was exorbitant. The tanner accused the gentleman of sullying his reputation and took a swing.
Leo moved on to the poultry stalls, where live chickens and skinned chickens existed side by side, the latter hanging in rows above the stall. He lingered in this lane, pretending to look over all the birds, then walked back and looked again, waiting for a glimpse of Miss Marble. He was beginning to think that she had avoided him once again, but then he spotted her. She was walking with another woman, engrossed in conversation.
He had not counted on there being anyone with her. That was alarming all on its own, but then Leo happened to notice something else that caused his heart to skip a few worried beats. Just behind Miss Marble, a very ornate hat and a tumble of blond curls beneath its brim was moving steadily toward him, like the prow of a ship making its way to the quay. Good God, that was Lady Caroline strolling the market aisle on the arm of a gentleman.
What in blazes was she doing here, at this market? It had been only three days ago he’d seen her in bed looking as if she’d just crawled back from the jaws of death. How in heaven had she untangled the mess of hair he’d seen on her head, much less coiffed it into curls? And how could she look so pretty after appearing so emaciated?
Miss Marble and her companion stopped at one chicken stall and studied the birds. Leo ducked behind a stack of crates stuffed with live birds and held his breath against the stench, impatiently waiting for Lady Caroline and her escort to stroll past. They were not alone, he realized—two ladies dressed similarly to Lady Caroline strolled behind them, looking terribly ill at ease.
When he saw the group of them go round the corner into the lane of beef, he darted out from behind the crates, very nearly knocking them over, and drawing the immediate ire of the proprietor.
Miss Marble didn’t see him at first. She was laughing with the other woman, who, Leo realized as he drew closer, was also from the Hawke home. Bloody hell, who was next? The butler? Beck himself? He stepped out of their line of sight and bumped into a lad carrying a basket of cakes. He held one up. Leo dug in his pocket for a coin and handed it to him in exchange for a cake.
“Acrown?”
Leo momentarily turned his attention from Miss Marble and looked at the coin in the lad’s hand. “Looks like it is,” he agreed.
“The cake, it’s a half penny, milord,” the lad said.
“Is it?” That seemed awfully inexpensive. “Buy yourself a treat, then,” Leo said, and with a friendly pat to the lad’s shoulder, he moved past him, following Miss Marble and the other maid as they moved down the aisle while munching on the cake.
He feared he was going to have to resort to extreme measures to separate Miss Marble from her friend, but suddenly, Miss Marble’s friend turned down another aisle, and Miss Marble walked up to a poultry seller. Leo quickly hopped forward and sidled up to her. “Miss Marble.”
She gasped. Her hand went to her throat. The man behind the stall looked at him curiously, then at Miss Marble.
“Please don’t draw attention,” Leo muttered.
Unfortunately, Miss Marble could not appear to be anything but alarmed. She seemed frozen with shock. He did not understand her shock. She’dtoldhim to meet her here—did she think he would not?
“Say something,” he urged her, and forced a smile for the poultry man.
“Something amiss here?” the man rumbled.
