Page 66 of A Royal Kiss & Tell
“Yes,” Beck said, and shifted his gaze to the window. “Henry was distraught.”
“Poor Henry,” she muttered. She turned her head to the window, too, and stared blindly at the passing countryside.
It was impossible to fathom why he’d done it. It was impossible to accept that the man who had shown her such pleasure could, just hours later, escape with a maid. How could he do what he did to her, then turn around and take a maid for what she could only assume was his pleasure?
She closed her eyes, thinking of the things she’d told him. That she yearned for him. He had flattered her and she had lifted her skirts, and she’d said things she would not say to another gentleman, and oh, she was such a damnfool.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Residents of Mayfair are hosting a flurry of summer gatherings before they depart for the cooler climes of the country.
Warm days lead to long walks in the park and proper courting. We have on good authority that the daughter of an earl who many considered to be too plain to receive an offer has won the esteem of the very gentleman she has most admired.
The sister of a popular baron is thought to be the Favorite of this summer season, as gentlemen are vying for her generous dowry. Bets placed at gentlemen’s clubs are running in favor of a young viscount from Leeds.
Ladies, experts advise that the secret to a clear and smooth complexion, be you fair or brown, is to limit excess in all things, including food and drink, exercise and pleasure.
—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and
Domesticity for Ladies
WHATASPECTACULARweek it had been. And not in a good way. The good news was that Jacleen was safely tucked away with Isidora in Mr. Cressidian’s large house, but in the course of it all, Leo’s reputation had taken a sound beating.
He’d bungled the rescue of Jacleen in Arundel, which didn’t surprise him in the least. How was he to have known the duchess was in labor? How was he to have known that Henry would pick that night, ofallnights, to visit the poor Weslorian girl at four o’clock in the morning? Really, he would think that given the arguing he’d heard between the duke and duchess on the night of their arrival, and given the duchess’s precarious state, Henry might have managed to keep his cock in his pants. He’d sorely misjudged his former friend.
Leo had made his way to the kitchen in what he thought would be the dead of night, a quarter to four in the morning. But as he’d neared the kitchen in the dark, he heard the banging of pots and pans. He was surprised to find the cook building a fire under a large hanging pot. She didn’t notice him at first, not until she stood and turned. And when she did, she cried out with alarm.
Leo wasn’t certain what to say for himself, so the two of them engaged in something of a silent standoff until a footman came in the back door with two buckets. He looked at the cook, then at Leo, then at the cook again. And then the three of them stared at one another until Leo realized he was the only one who could end the stalemate. “Pardon me,” he said, and cleared his throat. “I think I’m a bit lost. I’ll just show myself—”
Before he could finish his sentence, however, Jacleen appeared. She was tying an apron around her waist as she walked into the kitchen from the same hallway the footman had used. Her dark hair was piled carelessly on top of her head, as if she’d done it in a rush. She paused to take in the scene, and even in the dim light of the kitchen, Leo could see the dark circles under her eyes.
He did the only thing he knew to do and seized the opportunity. “Jacleen,” he said, and continued in Weslorian, “I am here to help you.”
She looked confused, uncertain. She looked to the cook as if she thought the older woman would explain it all to her.
Leo repeated himself. She still said nothing. He wondered if he might have said something wrong. Alucian and Weslorian were closely related but not identical, and his Weslorian had never been very good. He’d stood there with the servants looking on, feeling alarmed that he’d botch things so utterly in their presence. He spoke again in Weslorian. “Gather your things and come with me. At once.”
“Jacleen?”
The sound of Henry’s voice was like a punch to Leo’s belly. He’d jerked around to see his old school friend standing there in shirtsleeves and trousers. Henry should have been upstairs waiting on the birth of his child, so Leo had needed a moment to understand what he was doing in the kitchen. A very short moment, however, because the blood drained from Jacleen’s face.
“Is it time, Your Grace?” the cook asked eagerly.
“What? No, not yet,” Henry had said dismissively. His gaze was locked on Jacleen, and Leo couldn’t help but notice how the cook and the footman averted their gazes. They had seen this play before, had learned to avert their eyes when the duke came downstairs. And that made Leo irrationally angry—Henry was using this girl like a piece of meat.
So when Henry shifted his gaze to Leo and demanded to know what he was doing in the kitchen at that hour, Leo discarded all the excuses his brain instantly produced and opted for honesty. “I’m taking her, Henry.”
Henry blinked. And then he laughed. The sort of laugh one makes when one finds something very incredible. And when he did, the cook and the footman turned into dervishes of efficiency in filling buckets with hot water, presumably for the birth of Henry’s child. “Are you mad? You can’t take her.”
Leo remembered thinking in that moment that he sincerely hoped he’d not have to fight Henry, because he was certain Henry would thrash him but good if it came to that. He’d give it his best, of course—his father had insisted Leo and Bas learn to box at an early age—but he didn’t have the heart for fighting. So he’d braced himself for it, then said in English to Jacleen, “Get your things, lass.”
She hesitated. She looked at the cook. The cook was making a tremendous effort not to look back.
“Go,” Leo said, and then in Weslorian, “if you want to be free of him, you’ll do as I say. I give you my word you’ll be safe with me. I won’t touch you, Jacleen, but we obviously can’t dawdle here, given the situation.”
She looked panicked and turned to the cook, her expression pleading. In a bid to buy her a bit of time, Leo said to Henry, “I must admit, I’m rather surprised. I should think a man of your stature need not lower himself to this.”
Henry’s chest puffed and he glared at Leo. “Oh,Isee,” he sneered. “You’ve never diddled a servant, then, Your Highness.”
