Page 22 of A Royal Kiss & Tell
Or perhaps he’d gone because he was afraid he would be saddled with Lady Caroline if he lingered. He didn’t know if he could engage in conversation with her without wanting to tie his neckcloth around her mouth. He imagined it for one gloriously silly and strangely arousing moment—Lady Caroline’s mouth bound while her eyes flashed hotly at him.
Whatever his reasons, Leo had gone.
Lysander was much larger than what he recalled, both physically and in bearing. Leo had immediately told Lysander he had no interest in anything he had to say, and to tell him so for his own good was the only reason he’d come round at all.
“Ah. Then you don’t care to know what your future father-in-law might be about?” Lysander had asked slyly. “The Duke of Brondeny?”
Well, that had certainly rattled Leo. He’d only just met the man himself. How could Lysander possibly know anything about the duke? “What of him?”
Lysander then told Leo something so outrageous and unthinkable that he was stunned. He warned Lysander that saying such things was dangerously slanderous. He said he didn’t believe it. “Lies. Whoever has told you this is lying.”
“When you return to England, there is a young woman who can prove to you what I say is true. She is in the employ of Lord Hill. Her name is Ann—”
“I don’t care,” Leo had said before he could fill him with any more scandalous news.
But Lysander patiently continued. “Her name is Ann Marble, and she is a maid in an important man’s house. She has assisted one of our—”
“You can’t comeherewith this news,” Leo hissed in English. Then in Alucian he said, “Nothere, man! Do you think these walls don’t have ears?” He’d been so certain of it that he glanced over his shoulder. It felt to him as if the trees were listening.
“Mans princis, will you turn your back?” Lysander had asked quietly.My prince.
That had rattled Leo even more. Was he anyone’s prince? He might have been born into it, but in reality, he was a drunkard with a talent for avoiding conflict, duties and responsibilities. He’d very much wanted to turn his back the moment Lysander called him his prince. He’d wanted to walk away and hear no more of it. But something had kept him standing there. If there was even a scintilla of truth to what Lysander had told him, he couldn’t walk away.
But neither could he stand there and hear it. “Meet me tomorrow at the home of Jean Franck, the financier. He is a friend of mine. Do you know of him? His home?” he’d asked as his feeling of unease grew.
Lysander hesitated, but he nodded.“Je.”
“Two o’clock.” Leopold then left, striding away from the anxiety Lysander had produced, his thoughts on what he’d learned. As he neared the palace entrance, four palace guards stepped outside. They bowed to him in deference as he passed. One of them even uttered a greeting.
Leopold looked back at them as they carried on, uncertain what they were about. Were they on patrol? Looking for someone? But they appeared to be strolling along in no particular hurry, as if they were out for patrol. Had they detained Lysander?
Leopold could not shake the uneasy feeling that had come over him yesterday. Since Matous’s death, everything out of the ordinary left him feeling uneasy.
He left Kadro to dress for the last dinner with his brother and the few remaining guests. The king and queen would not be joining them this evening, and he was glad for it—that meant the evening would be far less formal and start sooner and end quickly. He wanted time to prepare to sail the next day.
But duty called, so he entered the salon that evening to join the guests.
He was immediately cornered by a Moroccan gentleman, Mr. Harrak. Harrak wanted to discuss the opium trade that shipped through the Mediterranean and how he believed his proposal to intervene in that trade could make them all quite rich in Morocco and in Alucia. “Why should Britain enjoy all the spoils?” he asked.
Leo listened with only half an ear—he had no interest in opium whatsoever. He’d known more than one man brought low by its “medicinal” qualities, and besides, he was no expert on trade—Bas was.
As Harrak ranted against the imperialism of England, Leo looked across the room and spotted Eliza standing with Lady Caroline. His sister-in-law looked radiant in a pale yellow gown. She had a sash of dark green across her breast, onto which two things had been pinned—the sapphire brooch Bas had presented her at their wedding, and a new medal that marked her entry into the royal family. The royal brand, so to speak. She was always charmingly a bit off-kilter, and tonight, the tiara his mother had lent her kept tilting to one side. Every time she righted it, Lady Caroline said something to make her laugh, and it slid a bit again. He considered, as Harrak continued to drone on, that Lady Caroline was the true beauty of the two, at least to his thinking. She had wide-set eyes and that bright smile that curved into two pert dimples.
It was a pity she was part loon.
“Contrary to what the British might think, they don’t rule the world, much less the seas,” Harrak opined.
“Mmm.” Leo watched as Lady Eulalie approached Eliza now with another Weslorian in tow. Eulalie Gaspar was an interesting woman, too, wasn’t she? She seemed pleasant, and sensible enough about the reality of the situation they’d been thrust into. And yet he felt a current of something underneath her smile that made him uncomfortable. The odd sensation one gets when someone is laughing behind one’s back. But it was unreasonable to think she had any impression of him at all, really—he’d only met her last night, had one dance with her.
Did she know what was said of her father? Surely not.Hopefullynot. But what if she did?
All right, he was allowing his anxiety pull him into delusional thinking. There was nothing there, behind his back or otherwise. Eulalie was as rattled as he was about this proposed match between them, that was all.
“Will you speak to the king, then?” Harrak asked.
Leo hadn’t heard a word the man had said. “Je, of course.” Another white lie to add to the stacks of them he’d told through the years.Yes, of course I can help you. Yes, whatever you need. Yes, I will bring it to the king’s attention straight away.
Harrak smiled. “Thankyou, Your Highness. Thank you.”
