Page 39 of A Royal Kiss & Tell
It was too late—Miss Marble had fled, returning to the poultry man to collect her bundle, then rejoining her friend without once looking back.
Leo stepped out of the space between the stalls and looked around him. How the devil was he supposed to find a brothel with nothing more to go on than it was at or near Charing Cross? That wasn’t a street—it was a juncture of many streets.
He began to walk, his head down, thinking. He had no idea what he was doing, much less what he meant to do if he found any of these women. He was chasing rainbows and wandering around meat markets.
“Dear God, it’syou.”
Leo instantly stopped walking. He turned slightly and looked directly into the lovely green eyes of Lady Caroline. “I beg your pardon. It’syou.”
She suddenly beamed at him, clearly delighted with her find. She took in his plain hat, his unassuming coat, and her smile turned impossibly brighter. “Well, well, what have we here? What are you about today, Your Highness? Hungry for a leg of mutton, are you?”
It was impossible to imagine that this woman, who had been in bed just a few days ago, could look so beautiful. She was a tad too thin, but the glow of health had returned to her cheeks, and her eyes were glittering with wicked delight. “It may surprise you, Lady Caroline, but I like mutton as well as the next man.”
“Do you know what I find interesting?”
“No, but I’ve no doubt you will tell me.”
“That the last Alucian gentleman who dressed like this was your brother. He was sneaking about, as you may recall. Areyousneaking about?”
“I see that your impertinence has returned in full. It’s rather astonishing that I must say this aloud, but what I do is no concern of yours. I think the better question is why areyouhere at all? Were you not deathly ill only two days ago?”
“Three,” she said. “But I am blessed with a hearty constitution, and I bounce back like a rubber ball.” She moved closer. “Why are you prancing about Leadenhall market dressed as a regular Englishman?”
“I am not prancing—I am walking. You can’t possibly understand, given that you are not a prince, nor inclined to listen, but sometimes it is easier to go round dressed like a regular Englishman.”
“Isit,” she said skeptically.
“It is,” he assured her. “Shall I call someone to help you to your carriage? You oughtn’t to be about.”
Her brows dipped into a decided V over her smile. She stepped closer. “Will you not humor me and tell me why you are here, Highness?”
He shifted closer to her, too. He could see the deep green specks in the irises of her eyes, dancing little eddies, drawing him in. “Will you not humor me and tell me why it is you think you have license to interrogate me? Why does anyone enter a meat market? I want a chicken.”
Her brows rose with surprise and she smiled with delight. She leaned forward. “Achicken?”she asked, her gaze on his mouth.
“That’s right, a chicken, Lady Caroline,” he said to her bodice. “The poultry at the hotel is not to my liking.” His gaze moved to the pert tip of her nose. And then to her succulent lips.
“But you have servants.”
“You sound like your brother.”
“Do I? That is somewhat alarming to hear, but I know that the difference between me and my brother is that Beck would probably accept your explanation without question. I won’t.” She tilted her head slightly as her gaze moved to his jaw, and up to his ear.
“But that’s the rub, madam. I don’t need or want your approval.” He desperately wanted to take her by the chin and force her to look him in the eye. He leaned so close that she had to look up. “No offense meant,” he added impertinently.
She smiled for the long moment it took for her gaze to travel lazily to his lips. “None taken.”
“Excellent. Then we may both be about our day.” He touched the brim of his hat and stepped around her. But when he did, his hand made contact with hers. It was a very slight tangle of fingers, hardly anything at all, and yet it set off fireworks inside him. “Good day, Lady Caroline. I shall leave you to your bouncing about like a rubber ball.”
“You’re scurrying away like a rat or a guilty man, Your Highness. What about your chicken?”
“Lady Caroline?”
Leo started almost as badly as Lady Caroline. She abruptly whirled around. “Mr. Morley!” She was breathless, either with surprise or delight, Leo didn’t know. “You found me!”
The gentleman was about the same height as Lady Caroline. He’d walked up behind them holding a basket carrying bread and flowers. “I thought I’d lost you,” he said with a nervous smile. “It would be quite easy to be lost in here, I think.” His gaze shifted to Leo. “I beg your pardon, sir. May I...?”
“Oh, I do beg your pardon, Mr. Morley,” Lady Caroline said, and Leo prepared to be introduced as a prince, at which point he’d have to make some elaborate excuse for being here admiring a row of hanging chicken carcasses without a royal guard in sight. “Mr. Chartier, my friend, Mr. Morley.”
