“Neither of you are that old, and you seemed rather more than friends.”
“Old in spirit if not body.” Cassie studied the perfume box. “And yes, more than friends. Rob and I are comrades. We have faced danger together.”
Deciding that the nuances of Cassie and Rob’s relationship were beyond her understanding and certainly none of her business, Kiri opened her jewelry case and selected elaborate dangling earrings with tiny chains of gold ending in sparkling chips of garnet that fell halfway to her shoulders. A sumptuous necklace of gold chains, a dozen bangle bracelets for each wrist. She would give Princess Charlotte a very good show.
Lastly, she reached inside herself for the core of her Hindu nature. Kiri could never match her mother’s gentle acceptance, but she released that side of her that would never be English. Looking in the mirror, she made a final adjustment to the drape of the fabric over her shoulder, then turned to Cassie. “Do I look ready for royalty?”
“You look magnificent,” Cassie said. “And very, very different. Your features and coloring may be the same, but you are no longer the same woman.”
“No. I am not.” Seeing herself like this was a powerful reminder of just how much separated her from Mackenzie. Not only the differences in class and birth, but also her dual nature. Could any Englishman understand that?
She thought of Mariah, Adam’s wife. No one could be more golden and English in appearance, but she had an understanding heart. Godfrey Hitchcock had not.
If Kiri was ever to find a true mate, it must be a man of understanding and tolerance. The general understood India, and in Lakshmi, he had married the embodiment of the land where he’d spent over half his life. But men like him were rare.
Enough philosophy for now. “I want to take the princess a gift of perfume. There is no time to make a custom blend, but I thought she might like this.” Kiri selected a bottle and offered it to Cassie. “What do you think?”
Cassie sniffed thoughtfully. “It is lovely. A young girl’s perfume. It smells of innocence and hope.”
“Which is not quite right for a girl whose parents fight over her like a bone, and who one day may rule England.” Kiri surveyed her perfume box, wishing she had the resources of her full laboratory. Choosing a bottle of her own chypre blend, she said, “This might help.”
She poured the young girl’s perfume into her prettiest decorative bottle, a graceful spire of scarlet glass. Then she added a very small drop of chypre. After stoppering, she shook it, then took the stopper off. Better. “What do you think, Cassie?”
The other woman took a sniff and blinked. “Remarkable. The smell is more complex and there’s an undertone of earthiness and . . . haunting sadness is the closest I can come to describing it.”
“That’s the effect I wanted.” Kiri looked at the other bottles. Perhaps a trace of fougère—no, best quit now before she ruined it.
She had several lengths of narrow ribbon in the case, so she pulled out a silver one and tied it jauntily around the neck of the glass bottle. Then she wrapped the bottle in a square of white satin. A good thing she had come prepared. She even had a small embroidered silk bag with inset mirrors that she could use as a Hindu reticule. Tucking the perfume into the bag, she said, “Time to go and wait for the carriage.”
“Let me carry my lady’s cloak.” Cassie fell instantly into servant mode, invisible and competent as she folded the blue cloak over her arm.
Amused, Kiri said, “You look more servantlike than any servant I’ve ever seen.”
“I stand corrected.” Cassie allowed herself a sliver of a smile and became slightly less invisible.
“You could have been an actress,” Kiri said as she walked toward the door.
“I have been on occasion.” Cassie opened the door for her temporary mistress.
Thinking graceful thoughts, Kiri left her room and glided downstairs, enjoying the cool slide of silk over her skin even though goose pimples were rising on her mostly bare arms and shoulders.
Mackenzie waited in the foyer. Hearing her footsteps, he said, “Good timing. The carriage just arrived.” He glanced up at Kiri, and froze, looking as if he’d been clubbed. If he weren’t healthy as a horse, she would worry that he might be having the heart seizure Cassie had jokingly suggested.
At the bottom of the steps, Kiri sank into a curtsey, at the same time pressing her open hands together in front of her breasts and bowing her head. “Namaste, sahib.”
He swallowed hard and gave her a deep bow. “You are dangerous, my lady.”
She laughed. “A sari is perhaps the most graceful garment ever invented. I trust that Princess Charlotte will enjoy the sight.”
“She will.” Mackenzie took the cloak from Cassie and placed it around Kiri’s shoulders, sending tingles through her when his fingertips brushed her bare neck. “Now we must be off if you are to reach Warwick House at the appointed hour.”
Kiri swept outside as he held the door for her. Life had certainly become much more interesting since she ran away from Godfrey Hitchcock.
Chapter 29
“Oh, my,” Princess Charlotte breathed as Kiri entered her private drawing room. “You look splendid! Like a princess from an oriental fairy tale.” The princess’s height and full figure made her look older than sixteen, but the innocent enthusiasm in her eyes showed her true age. She was a girl who yearned to know more of the world.
Kiri curtsied, her sari shimmering fluidly around her. “Your Highness is most gracious. I thank you for your invitation.”
“I wished to see you before moving my household to Windsor tomorrow.” Charlotte made a face. “Life in the Lower Lodge there is even more boring than at Warwick House.”
At least there would be no gambling clubs for the girl to sneak off to. And with luck, the Lower Lodge at Windsor would be in better repair than Warwick House. Kiri was shocked by how run-down this royal residence was.
The prince regent spent staggering amounts of money on his own palaces while condemning the heiress presumptive of England to a house the same size as 11 Exeter Street, and nowhere near as well kept. Keeping her opinion to herself, Kiri said, “At least you will be in the country, Your Highness. I understand you are a bruising rider?”
The princess grinned at the rather racy description. “Indeed I am. But I forget my manners. I’ll ring for tea. Please, have a seat.”
Kiri waited for the princess to sit first, then offered the silk-wrapped package. “I brought you a small gift. One of my perfumes.”
Charlotte’s eyes lit with pleasure as she unwrapped the bottle. She opened it immediately and sniffed. “Thank you so much! This smells lovely. What is it called?”
The princess was probably not a perfume connoisseur, but her appreciation was genuine. Kiri thought fast. “I call it Principessa, and I blended it just for you.”
Her expression blissful, Charlotte applied some to her throat and wrists. “Will you make more when this is gone? I shall appoint you my official royal perfumer!”
Kiri smiled. “It will be my pleasure, but I am not a professional perfumer, so better that I don’t have a title. This is just a small gift from one of your future subjects.”
“Of course a woman of your rank can’t be in trade,” Charlotte agreed.
The conversation was interrupted as a maid entered with a tea tray. It took several minutes to pour the tea and set out a plate of mixed cakes. When they were alone again, the princess said, “I want to thank you for saving me the other night, but I also want to ask if you know what that kidnapping attempt was about. It wasn’t random.”
“No one explained?” Kiri asked, startled.
Charlotte’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I was scolded ferociously by my father and told I must go to Windsor, but there were no explanations.” After a simmering moment, she added, “How can I become a fit ruler when everyone treats me as a child?”
Kiri was appalled all over again. Charlotte might be badly raised and ill-educated, but she was
not stupid. She needed, and deserved, to be treated as an adult.
Though Kiri knew it would be the height of foolishness to come between the often petulant prince regent and his daughter, at the moment she was too angry to be careful. For her own safety, Charlotte needed to know of the threat. “This is very, very secret. You must speak of it to no one.”
“You have my word.” Charlotte looked older as she made her pledge.
“You were the target of a French plot against the British royal family,” Kiri said succinctly. “They wanted to kidnap you and assassinate your father and his brothers. With the king unable to rule and the heir to the throne in captivity, there would be great confusion, and perhaps an opportunity to make peace on terms agreeable to France.”
Charlotte gasped, her face turning pale. “It’s . . . it’s outrageous! How dare Napoleon do such a thing!”
“We don’t know that the plot originated with Napoleon. However, I do know there has been an attempt on your father’s life since the incident at Damian’s.” Reminding herself that she really must not criticize the prince regent, Kiri continued, “This is why you’re being sent to Windsor. Your life is too precious to risk.”
“Why didn’t my father explain?” Charlotte asked plaintively.
Seeking a charitable interpretation, Kiri said, “My stepfather has said often that children grow more quickly than a father realizes, or really wants. The prince regent is a man like any other, and he must have wanted to avoid upsetting you.”
Charlotte looked unconvinced. “I appreciate your telling me the truth, Lady Kiri.” She looked wistful. “If I was allowed to have ladies-in-waiting, I’d appoint you.”
“You are gracious indeed,” Kiri said, glad that for the time being, she was safe from the boredom of court life. If she had to attend the princess, whose existence was so narrow, she’d go mad. “When the time comes, there will be many worthy candidates eager for the honor.”
“I would like to have my dear friend, Miss Elphinstone. But not yet.” Charlotte frowned. “I do hope the conspirators are caught soon. I am to attend the state opening of Parliament in a fortnight.”
Good heavens, did Kirkland know that? “It is not my place to say this, but surely it is not wise to attend so public an event. There will be great crowds, which kidnappers or assassins could take advantage of.”
Charlotte lifted her chin. “This will be my first time in attendance. I will not cancel my appearance.”
“You may not be safe,” Kiri said bluntly. “If they can’t kidnap you, they might choose assassination.”
Charlotte looked frightened, but also stubborn and very royal. “A coward is not fit to rule England.”
“That’s hard to disagree with.” Especially since Kiri did not want to treat Princess Charlotte as a child. She must be groomed to carry the great responsibilities likely to fall on her in the future. “There are very capable people dedicated to keeping you safe, but you must also be alert and aware of what’s going on around you.”
Charlotte’s brows knit together. “If I hadn’t responded to the kidnappers when I was called ‘Your Highness,’ they wouldn’t have found me. Do you mean things like that?”
“Exactly. Our own good sense is our first defense.” Kiri sipped on her tea, wondering how long she should stay. The protocol was a short visit, she thought. “Listen to your intuition. If a situation or a person seems not quite right, the chances are your mind has noticed something wrong even if you aren’t quite conscious of it.”
Charlotte sighed. “Because I’m a royal princess, most people act oddly around me, so it can be hard to tell. But I shall attempt to follow your advice.” Changing the subject, she said, “Your sari is so beautiful. How does it stay up?”
“There are pleats and folds, though it takes practice to wear one,” Kiri replied. Discussing Indian clothing was a safely neutral topic. She stood and demonstrated how the sari was wrapped and tucked. After she judged twenty minutes had passed, she said, “I must be going, Your Highness. I’m sure you have much to do before leaving.”
Charlotte sighed. “Indeed I do. Thank you for coming on short notice.” As she got to her feet, she asked, “May I feel the silk of your sari? It looks so light.”
“Of course.” Kiri pulled the drape from behind her so the princess could touch it. “Some saris are so delicate they can be drawn through a ring. This one is a little heavier since England is cooler.” Though not heavy enough.
Charlotte lifted a handful of the silk admiringly, releasing it to float down again. “When I am queen, I shall have a costume from each country I rule.”
“That would be very gracious, Your Highness.” Kiri curtsied. “Let me know when you need more perfume.”
“I hope you will call again when I return to London.” As Kiri took hold of the doorknob, Charlotte asked wistfully, “Will I be free and happy someday?”
“No one is entirely free unless they have nothing to lose, and few of us want to live that way.” Kiri hesitated as she felt a swift flash of certainty. “But you will find love and happiness. I’m sure of it.”
Charlotte’s face lit up. “Thank you for that, Lady Kiri.”
Kiri inclined her head and left the drawing room. Her flash of insight did indeed say Charlotte would find happiness, but also that it would be brief.
But at least she would have some happiness. That was an experience no sovereign was guaranteed.
Given the deteriorating weather, Mac was glad the royal visit was short. When Kiri emerged from Warwick House, the hood of her cloak was pulled up, obscuring her face. Cassie walked a demure two steps behind.
Mac wanted to ask if Kiri had learned anything interesting, but this was not a place to step outside his role of footman. He opened the door to the carriage and flipped down the steps so they could get out of the misty rain quickly.
Once the ladies were safely stowed, he climbed on his perch at the back of the carriage. The November evening was cold and wet and it was well after dark by the time they reached Exeter Street. The rain was coming down harder, too.
Glad he wasn’t a real footman, Mac helped Kiri and Cassie from the carriage. Kiri wore gloves and didn’t look at him, but he still felt a tingle of awareness as he took her hand. “Kirkland was going to try to join us for dinner again. I don’t suppose you learned anything interesting from Princess Charlotte.”
“Actually, I did.” Kiri started up the steps. “She’s planning on attending the state opening of Parliament in a fortnight.”
Mac winced internally as he thought of the crowds. “Not good. Could you persuade her to change her mind?” He opened the front door to the house.
“I had no luck. She’s pure stubborn Hanover, and sees this as her duty.” Kiri flashed him a quick glance as she entered the house. “It’s hard to argue against duty.”
“Very true.” Cassie entered the house at Kiri’s heels and headed for the stairs. “I shall see you both at dinner.”
Which left Mac alone in the foyer with Kiri. He moved behind her to take the dripping cloak from her shoulders.
As he lifted it away, he first saw the shining dark coil of her thick hair, then the curve of her breasts, and finally the bare skin below her scarlet bodice. The silken swath of the sari emphasized her superb figure.
She glanced over her shoulder with a provocative shimmer of scarlet silk and heady perfume. He stiffened, his hands clenching the heavy wool of the cloak. She was a fever dream of beauty and allure, and he wanted to wrap his arms around her. He wanted to unwind her silk sari to reveal the even more silken skin beneath.
“Why do you stare so?” she asked, her voice a rich strum across his senses.
His control snapped and he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her back and perfect round rump tight against him. Heart pounding, he said, “Please don’t flirt, Kiri. It’s hard enough keeping my hands off when you’re dressed in European clothing. That sari is designed for provocation.”
He held her for a moment
, feeling the warm pulse of her body through thin silk. He wanted so much to raise the bright fabric and caress her sumptuous curves. . . .
He kissed the side of her throat and she gave a choked gasp. Glad of proof that she was not indifferent to him, he released her and stepped back, cursing himself for a fool for touching her in the first place.
She turned in a swirl of silk, her color high. “Saris are designed to be comfortable in killingly hot weather. Provocation is merely a side benefit.”
“A powerful benefit,” he said feelingly. “In that outfit, you are every man’s fantasy of the sensual, exotic Orient.”
Her green eyes narrowed like an angry cat’s. “And you are one of those men who thinks Oriental women are toys for European men to play with?”
“You know better than that.” Though he understood why she was sensitive on the subject. “You are beautiful and alluring in all times and in all styles of dress because you are a unique blend of East and West. Take away either part of your heritage and you would not be as irresistible as you are. You are lovely now, and will be even lovelier in fifty years when you’ve gained a lifetime of experience and wisdom.”
She gave him an apologetic smile. “Well said, Mackenzie. You have seen my many faces. But since a sari is most inappropriate here, I shall change to something European and boring before dinner.” She caught her skirts and climbed the steps, one hand sliding along the railing.
“You cannot possibly be boring under any circumstances,” he said softly. She didn’t acknowledge his words. He watched her ascend, knowing that as beautiful as she was in a sari, she was even more beautiful wearing not a single stitch.
Life would be easier if he didn’t know exactly how beautiful she looked that way.
Dinner was a bubbling-hot shepherd’s pie, perfect for a cold, wet night. Mac noted that Kiri now wore a plain, high-necked gown that showed not an inch of skin between neck and ankles. She still looked even more delectable than the shepherd’s pie.
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