Page 30 of A Royal Kiss & Tell
“It has walls yet,” Leo reminded him. “I have in mind to restore it.”
“Restore it!” Hill had laughed. “It would cost a king’s ransom to restore it.”
Leo had shrugged. “A bit of a hobby. Can you show it to me again?”
Hill had grinned. “Well, Highness, I suppose that you, of all people, would have that king’s ransom. Be forewarned—you’ll spend every pence. The wood’s surely all rotted and the stone crumbling from the damp. Aye, come to call in Sussex. The owners are my neighbors to the east. I’ll speak with them and determine their inclination to sell, if you like.”
“I would be in your debt,” Leo had said.
A day later, the invitation to Sussex had arrived, and Leo had been very pleased with himself. Perhaps he was cleverer than he’d understood. When he entered the home of Lord Hill in Sussex, it was with full confidence, which he carried with him squarely in his puffed-up chest until the moment he’d asked a footman if Miss Ann Marble could be brought round upon his departure.
“Miss Marble is no longer employed here, Your Highness. She’s taken a position with Lord Russell.”
That knocked the smile from Leo’s face.Thatwas not supposed to have happened. He’d gained his way into Hill’s house, and she was to behere, dammit! Leo had not thought once about the possibility she would not be where Lysander had said she would be.
“Ah. Well, then,” he said dumbly.
“Shall I send a messen—”
“No. Not necessary, not at all. Thank you.” Leo had forced himself to smile and then strode away from that footman.
To add insult to that injury, Leo discovered he did not have a very good reason toloseinterest in the castle now that Lord Hill had gone to considerable lengths to research it for him. He’d left that afternoon with the uneasy feeling he’d just bought himself an old ruin.
He should have stopped then, should have plainly recognized that he was no match for this dilemma. It wasn’t as if he could move around London unnoticed.
He glanced disparagingly at the offending gazette the footman had laid on the table with the other morning papers.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop, because his bloody conscience, which had suddenly decided to make an appearance, wouldn’t allow it. The five names in his pocket would not allow it. His dirty little list of five names he could not forget:Nina, Isidora, Eowyn, Jacleen, Rasa.
They were the names of Weslorian women who’d been sold into slavery. Or worse. Leo tried not to think about the worst of it.
This was what Lysander had wanted so desperately to tell him in the palace gardens. He’d wanted to explain to Leo that powerful, rich men were working together to purchase young women from poor families and sell them to other powerful men with influence in foreign and trade policy. They were bartering living, breathing human beings for political favor.
Leo was so alarmed when Lysander had told him that he’d not wanted to hear it. “Why are you tellingme?” he’d demanded of Lysander, feeling desperate to unhear it. “I can’t help you.”
Lysander’s steady smile was eerie. “On the contrary, Highness, you may very well be the only person who can help me.”
But Leo was shaking his head before Lysander finished speaking. “I will put you before whomever you must speak to in order to end this practice, sir, but I can’t help you. I am to England on the morrow.” Leo could recall pacing that garden, wishing desperately he was already on a ship, away from such wretched tales, away from ceremony, away from his place as a prince in his country.
But Lysander would not let him flee so easily. “One of the men involved is an Alucian lord who has made a fortune developing ironworks here, in Alucia. You might have seen the chimneys just outside Helenamar. You may be familiar with the gentleman, Highness, as he accompanied your brother to England to advise him on the trade agreement. Lord Vinters?”
Leo had stopped in his tracks. Marcellus Vinters was a trusted adviser to his father.
“He has strong ties to England and has arranged to bring British advancements to his business. He is the broker, so to speak.”
“The broker,” Leo had repeated, not understanding.
“The Weslorians want to share in the advancements. This arrangement is a simple commodity exchange—the Weslorian provides the girls. Lord Vinters trades them for the advancements and favorable trade terms for the Weslorians.”
That meant, then, that Vinters was working against the interests of Alucia. It had been almost more than Leo could absorb, but then Lysander had said the thing that changed everything. “The Weslorian broker is the Duke of Brondeny.”
Leo’s stomach had dropped at the mention of Lady Eulalie’s father. That was impossible. His dealings would have been thoroughly scrutinized by the Alucians. They would not risk a scandal like this if Leo was to marry his daughter. Which meant his father didn’t know about the scheme? “That’s impossible. Vinters is a close confidant of my father. He would not negotiate trade for Wesloria. He would not trade in slavery.”
“You know as well as I that industrialization depends on iron,” Lysander had said calmly. “To industrialize is to survive, to be strong. Wesloria must industrialize, and they are willing to pay the price.”
“And Vinters? What does he gain?”
Lysander shrugged. “Favor, perhaps? There are many who believe that Wesloria will never be as strong as Alucia without an Oberon on the throne, and more still who believe an Oberon on the throne will be the end of Alucia. Perhaps Vinters is gambling.” He’d tilted his head to one side and studied Leo a moment. “You know how these things happen.”
