Both Drina and George went red in the face.
“Forgive me, Princess Alice. I didn’t have time to consider,” he said. Then he abruptly pointed to the clock on the mantel. “Oh, look at the time! I have several things that I need to do before tonight. So I will bid you both adieu.”
He bowed to Alice and left the room without even looking at Drina.
Drina exhaled loudly and waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps before rounding on Alice. She took her friend by the arm and whispered in her ear, “How could you?”
“How could I what?” Alice replied, feigning innocence.
“Embarrass me like that!”
“The only person who should have been embarrassed is George,” Alice whispered back. “For a clever young man, he is the only person in the room that doesn’t know he is in love with you.”
Drina shook her head. “He’s not in love with me. He only cares for me as a friend. That’s all.”
“He covered you with his own body from a bullet,” Alice said flatly. “Which means he would have died for you. You don’t do that for a mere friend.”
Drina felt her color rising again. “How are things progressing with Prince Louis?” she asked in a lame attempt at turning the conversation.
“About the same … I like him,” Alice said, shrugging. “But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to spend the rest of my life with him. I still don’t know his opinions on the issues that matter to me most.”
“And you haven’t met my cousin Friedrich, yet,” she said. “Perhaps it will be love at first sight.”
“Oh, have you found him, then?”
Drina shook her head. “The last person who saw him was Bertie.”
“So that’s why you’re trying to locate my brother.”
“Yes.”
Alice gave her a small smile. “I thought you were never going to speak to Bertie again after he kissed you at Osborne House.”
“I suppose I’ll have to forgive him eventually, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him yet.”
“But you will,” Alice pointed out.
“I always do,” Drina said. “But only for you.”
“Bertie doesn’t mean to make a nuisance of himself,” she said. “He sometimes gets carried away, that’s all.”
Drina remembered Mrs. Strachey and thought that Bertie got carried away much more often than his dear family knew.
“I hope you don’t think I’m trading on our friendship,” Drina said. “But have you reminded your mother about my request to end the entail?”
“Not yet,” Alice admitted. “But don’t worry. I will. I’m only waiting for the right moment to broach it with her again. Mama can be obstinate once decided on a position. I don’t want to set her against you.”
Drina hugged Alice. “You’re the best of friends, Alice. I can’t thank you enough.”
The princess waved her words aside. “If only we knew of a similar case in history where a daughter had inherited a title from her father; a royal precedent on how it was done then. I really think Mama would be willing to do it, if she wasn’t the first.”
“Then I will haunt the royal library and see what I can find. If it’s been done before, it will be in a book in there,” she said. She turned toward the door, when a little hand pulled hers. Beatrice’s face was covered in chocolate.
“’Fank you, Drina,” she said.
Drina ruffled her blond curls. “You’re most welcome, Your Royal Lowness.”
Beatrice giggled and ran back to hold on to Helena’s skirt.
Drina walked quickly down the corridor to her room. She opened the door and saw her mother standing by the fireplace. She forced herself to smile.
“Hello, Mama.”
“Where have you been all day, Liebling?”
“Shopping in town,” Drina said. “A couple of last-minute gifts for Christmas. I got you some fudge.”
She stepped over to her table and found the package with the English fudge and handed it to her mother, who opened it and pinched off a small piece.
“Fudge from Hoburg is superior.”
“I know,” Drina said, “and much harder to come by.”
Her mother set the package of fudge down. “This is no time for sweets, Drina. We must get you dressed for this evening.”
Drina pulled the cord for her lady’s maid, who arrived a few minutes later. Her mother didn’t actually help her dress, but gave running dialogue as Drina took off her day dress and Miss Russon carried out her evening gown. It had a royal blue robe with a double skirt, a pattern of blue forget-me-not flowers and leaves on a white background. The berthé, or collar worn off the shoulders, was the same royal blue and edged with blond lace.
“Turn around,” her mother said.
Drina slowly turned in her beautiful new gown. Her mother held out her three-string-pearls, then strung them around Drina’s throat and clasped the lock. Drina went to the mirror on the bureau and put in her diamond drop earrings.
“Has Princess Alice asked Cousin Victoria again about the entail?” her mother asked.
“Not yet,” Drina said. “She’s waiting for the right moment.”
“Don’t allow her to wait too long, Liebling,” she warned. “If your father were to die with the entail in place, we would be practically penniless.”
“I know, Mama,” she said, looking down at the floor.
Her mother put her finger underneath Drina’s chin. “Smile, Liebling. You are quite pretty and there will be eligible young men at dinner.”
Drina dutifully obeyed and walked with her mother to the Grand Reception Room to wait for the procession into dinner. Her father was already there. He gave Drina a real smile and a half hug with his arm.
“How are my beautiful ladies tonight?” he asked.
“We are happy and charming, are we not, Liebling?”
Drina put on her politest smile. “Happy and charming.”
Chapter 11
The Grand Reception Room truly is grand, George thought.
Three large golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Enormous paintings with golden frames flanked both walls and were surrounded by more gold trim and filigree. Several golden chairs lined the walls, and George wished he could hide underneath one of them when he saw his father coming. Hiding under furniture had worked rather well for him as a boy, until he turned ten years old and was too big to hide underneath anything without being seen.
The Duke of Doverly continued toward him at a steady pace, his eyes never leaving George’s face. His father carried a cane, but it was more a courtly decoration from another era than a useful prop. George pulled at his cuff links compulsively. This was going to be an unpleasant interview. It always was unpleasant with his father.
“Where is the Crown Prince of Hoburg?” his father demanded. He was never one to waste time in useless small talk.
“Indisposed,” George lied. “I’m afraid he caught a nasty cold on the train ride here and is now lying in his bed eating gruel, and the housekeeper has kindly provided a hot compress. I hope he will be well enough in a day or two to attend the state dinners.”
His father placed one hand on his shoulder, forcing George to look at him in the eye. Even at sixty, his old man was still several inches taller than him. George tried not to blink or look too guilty. His father squeezed his shoulder so tightly that it hurt.
“Are all the Prince’s needs being met, boy?” he rasped. “Have you called for a doctor? What a diplomatic mess it would be if he were to die of a trifling ailment while on our soil.”
George contemplated lying and saying that he already called for a doctor, but he quickly decided against it. His father would want to speak to the doctor personally. George might as well say auf Wiedersehen to his dream of being an engineer there and then.
“Prince Friedrich doesn’t wish for a doctor,” he said slowly. “The prince says he needs only rest and time to be quite himself again. The housekeeper has diligently been providing m
ustard plasters and broth. He should be on his feet in no time.”
The duke finally released his death grip on George’s shoulder. “See that you keep a close eye on the prince. You wouldn’t want your allowance halved before your travel to Austria. Everything is more expensive on the continent.”
“Father!” George said exasperatedly. “I’m not going to Austria. You can’t force me to.”
“And you’re not going to be a common laborer, either. At least not while I’m paying your bills,” his father rasped. He must have noticed George’s surprised look for he added, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re about, boy. I know more than you think. And I know you haven’t given up on your foolish notion of becoming an engineer.”
George was sincerely glad that his father for once didn’t know what he was about: The Duke of Doverly would be furious to know that his son had never laid eyes on Prince Friedrich. But there was nothing else George could do today. He’d searched the entire city of Windsor and only succeeded in learning that the prince had visited the inn on the previous night, but no trace further.
He wandered out of the Grand Reception Room and found Drina and several younger members of the party standing in a circle playing a parlor game.
“Come join us, George,” Emily called. She held out a hand to him and he took it. “We’re playing Reverend Crawley’s Game. We all stand in a circle and link hands, but not with the people directly on either side of you. Drina, take one of George’s hands and Edward, you take the other.”
Drina was standing on Emily’s left and she dutifully held out her gloved hand. George took her hand in his and marveled for a moment how small and feminine it was. He stroked it gently with his thumb.
“Are you going to examine my hand as well?” Edward said with a hearty laugh, as he pushed George in the chest with his own hand.
“Switch places with Lady Clara,” George said, slapping away the hand. “I have no intention of ever holding your hand.”
Edward guffawed and traded with her. George was now holding both Drina’s and Lady Clara’s hands, while standing between his brother, Edward, and his wife, Emily.
“We are in a human knot,” Emily said, “and our purpose is to untie the knot without letting go of each other’s hands. You can crawl over or under each other’s arms, but as I said before, there is no letting go of each other’s hands.”
Princess Alice and Prince Louis lifted up their joined hands and Lady Hyacinth ducked underneath them. George crawled under Emily’s arm and found his faced pressed up against Drina’s waist. He could hear her quick intake of breath. But since his other arm was behind Edward’s back, he really had nowhere else to move to.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, trying not to notice that she smelled like freshly cut ivy and ignoring the urge to lean his head closer toward her.
Lord Weatherby hopped over Lady Hyacinth’s and Princess Alice’s arms, which forced Prince Louis to kneel. Princess Alice nearly sat on his knee as she went underneath his arm and behind him. Emily tried to turn around, which caused Drina to spin away from George and over Weatherby’s arm. Weatherby looked her up and down like she was a plump Christmas turkey. George wanted to punch him in the—what had Mrs. Strachey called it?—sauce box.
“I think we’re getting more tangled, not less,” Emily complained, her arms crossed in front of her.
“No, I think we almost have it,” Princess Alice said, inclining her head toward Weatherby. “We just need Lord Weatherby to go underneath Drina’s arm and then that should free you, Lady Dinsmore, to turn back the right direction and untangle yourself with your husband.”
Everyone did as she suggested, and then only three people were out of place. Drina ducked underneath George’s arm as if they were dancing. She spun out and magically every person was standing in a circle looking at each other.
“I can’t believe we did it,” Lady Clara said, laughing.
“Yes, well done, everyone,” Princess Alice said, clapping.
“Let’s make the next game a sitting down one,” Edward said, plopping down loudly in a wingback chair. Everyone found a seat nearby on the chairs and sofas in the room. Weatherby moved a chair closer to the circle for himself and one for Lady Hyacinth.
“Let’s play ‘How? Why? Where? When?’” Lady Clara said as she sat on the same sofa as George. She touched his arm and smiled at him expectantly. George glanced over her head at Drina, who rolled her eyes at him. Or them. He wasn’t sure which.
“I have one,” Drina said.
“How do you like it?” Emily asked.
“In my hair.”
“A ribbon!” Lady Clara called out excitedly.
Drina shook her head.
“Why do you like it?” Edward asked.
“They’re so amusing and sometimes they can be very handsome,” Drina said, simpering. “And other times unamusing and terribly plain.”
“When do you like it?” Princess Alice asked.
Drina tapped her finger against her chin. “I like them at balls and parties.”
“Where do you like it?”
“On the back of a dress, or the edge of my sleeves,” Drina said, touching the trim of her gown.
“The word must have multiple meanings,” Edward said as he stroked his black goatee. “You have me stumped.”
George looked at the edge of Drina’s sleeves and noticed the blue-ribbon bows that trimmed the dress. She turned her head and he saw that she had a matching one in her hair.
“Bows!” he said.
“Or beaux,” Princess Alice said.
“Yes,” Drina replied with a grin. “Bows and beaux.”
“They’re both delightful,” Lady Clara said, giggling.
“You can never have too many of either.” Emily pointed to George. “You guessed it right first, so it’s your turn next.”
George folded his arms and leaned back on the sofa, away from Lady Clara. “I’m ready.”
“How do you like it?” Edward asked.
“I don’t.”
“Too vague,” his brother complained.
George shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose I’m amused by it in others, but never in myself.”
“Why do you like it?” Lady Clara asked with yet another giggle.
“It’s beautiful and ornamental,” George said, shifting in his seat farther away from Lady Clara.
“When do you like it?” Princess Alice asked.
“At the expense of others.”
“Where do you like it?” Emily asked.
“In a large garden or a park.”
“A kiss,” Lady Clara tittered.
George shook his head slowly.
“Folly,” Drina blurted out.
“Correct!” George said.
“But since Drina has already had a turn, you must pay a forfeit,” Emily said, pointing at him. “You have to say half a dozen flattering things to a lady of your choice in the room without the letter—”
“A,” Princess Alice said as she looked at Drina.
“Yes, A is a very good letter,” Emily agreed with a smile.
George glanced round the room. Lady Clara smiled at him eagerly. Princess Alice lowered her eyes; she clearly didn’t wish to be picked. He didn’t want to choose his sister-in-law, either, which left only Drina or Lady Hyacinth.
He walked to stand in front of Drina. “Lady Alexandrina, you are … punctilious.”
“Punctilious!” Edward repeated, and slapped his thighs. “Hardly a compliment to a lady. No wonder you’re single, George.” Edward guffawed loudly at his own wit and several other members of the party snickered into their gloved hands.
“You are meticulous,” George continued.
“Not much better,” Emily said, shaking her head.
“You are pretty. You are kind. And your figure is perfection.”
Weatherby whistled. Edward clapped. Everyone else in the party laughed merrily.
Drina touched each of her gloved fingers on one han
d and held out her thumb on the other. “That’s one, two, three, four, five compliments. I believe you owe me one more.”
“You are so, so—” George faltered as he looked into her light blue eyes. She was watching him expectantly, and he didn’t wish to disappoint her.
“So?” Drina prompted.
“Pulchritudinous.”
“What did you just call me?” Drina asked with her eyebrows raised. “It sounds infectious.”
“Pulchritudinous,” George repeated. “A person of breathtaking beauty.”
Drina blushed, looking pleased.
George sat back down by Lady Clara. He must have let his mind wander too long, for he blinked several times when he saw Edward on the floor in the center of the room. He must have lost in the game. George was glad he hadn’t had to pay this particular forfeit—Edward had to pretend to be a pig and answer questions. His brother oinked loudly. It was all too fitting for Edward’s swine-like personality.
“Clever pig,” Weatherby called. “Who’s the greatest flirt in the room?”
Edward turned around on all fours before crawling toward George and oinking loudly. George felt very hot all of a sudden. Lady Clara hit him on the arm with her fan and giggled. “Oh, Lord Worthington you’re such a flirt!”
“Clever pig,” Drina said, diverting attention from George. “Who is the cleverest person in the room?”
Edward crawled in a circle and stopped briefly in front of Princess Alice, before crawling in front of his wife and oinking several times.
“You are a clever pig indeed,” Emily said with a laugh. She patted his dark hair affectionately.
George’s attention was caught by Princess Alice as she leaned closer to Prince Louis, a movement that boded well for their prospective match. He heard her say in a low voice, “Parlor games remind me of evenings spent with my grandmother at Frogmore Lodge. Bertie always loses and has to play the clever pig.”
It hit him. Mrs. Strachey at the tavern had said the princes had gone to the frogs. Or rather, they must have gone to Frogmore Lodge—a royal estate not more than a few miles from Windsor. He had gone there once with his father to visit Queen Victoria’s mother, the Duchess of Kent, who resided there.
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