Page 32 of A Royal Kiss & Tell
“What good news it is to hear your sister has recovered,” Leo said.
“She still drifts in and out of sleep. It’s to be expected. She’s hardly eaten a thing,” Hawke said. He made his way to the sideboard, waving off Garrett, who juggled the flowers and the whisky in his hands. Hawke uncorked a bottle and poured gin into two glasses.
“Has she spoken yet?” Leo asked.
Hawke looked at Leo and grinned. “Oh, but she has. She accused me of causing her fever by hovering so close to her side and sent me from her room.” He laughed. “That is averygood sign. If she is cross with me, she is feeling herself again. Is that not so, Garrett?”
“Yes, milord.”
“And the doctor? What has he said of her health?”
“The doctor, the doctor,” Hawke said with a shake of his head. “He says the same thing he’s said all along. He presses his horn to her chest and says she has a heartbeat as dependable as a drummer boy, that there is nothing to fear.” He signaled his opinion of that by flicking his wrist dismissively. “She nearly died, I tell you. Had we not opened the windows to clear her room of bad air, and Mrs. Green had not made a poultice for her feet to draw the fever out, she would have certainly died.”
“Then God’s grace smiles on you today, my friend, for she did not,” Leo reminded him.
“No, she didn’t,” Hawke agreed, and paused to ponder that. He nodded and looked at Leo. “You’ve convinced me.”
“I’ve what?”
“Convinced me that her health has returned to her.”
“I have?” Leo asked, confused.
“I am to the club! You’ll wait, won’t you, while I tidy up a bit? I insist you accompany me and tell me what you’ve been about.” He picked up his glass and downed the gin. “I suspect you’ve been a naughty boy, Your Highness.”
Leo smiled thinly. “I would be honored if you would call me Leo when you mean to chastise me.”
Hawke laughed. “Then you must call me Beck. Not Beckett—sounds too much likebucket, doesn’t it? Garrett, have hot water brought to my rooms. And do something with those,” he said, gesturing to the most excellent whisky and the flowers. “Caro will like the flowers to brighten her room. Oh, yes, and see to it that His Royal Highness is kept comfortable until I return.”
“Aye, milord.”
“Do make yourself comfortable, Highness,” Hawke—or Beck—said as he swept out of the room behind Garrett.
Leo didn’t know how he’d make himself comfortable in a room as chaotic as this one. And really, what Leo wanted to do was sneak out of here and find Miss Marble. He had a feeling that once Lady Caroline was fully recovered, his access to this house and the servants would be abruptly curtailed.
He moved closer to the door, so that he could see into the hallway. He was standing in front of a painting of a fox hunt. The rider on a black steed, bent over the horse’s neck, was Beckett Hawke. In the distance was a stately home that Leo supposed was their country seat. He was studying the dogs racing alongside the idealized version of Beck when he heard the butler in the hallway just outside the door.
“Susan? Susan!”
Leo leaned forward slightly, listening.
“What have you got there?”
“Linens, Mr. Garrett. We’ve changed her bed linens.”
“Fetch Ann. Have her take these flowers to Lady Caroline, compliments of His Royal Highness Prince Leopold.”
Leo winced. Lady Caroline would read far too much into that, he was certain.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Garrett, but Ann has gone to fetch her soup.”
Leo’s ears pricked up.
“Then you take them,” Garrett said. “I must attend his lordship.”
There was a lot of movement, a rustling of fabric, a small sound of exasperation. But then Leo heard Garrett’s sure footfall move away. An idea suddenly came to him, and he half leaped to the door before Susan could get away. He poked his head around the corner of the frame to see the maid standing where Garrett had left her, a pile of bed linens in one arm and his flowers in the other hand. When she saw him, her eyes widened, and she glanced nervously down the corridor. She looked as if she wanted to flee.
“May I be of service?” He smiled his most charming smile.
