Secrets of My Beloved: Linked Across Time Book Twelve

by Dawn Brower

  Scarlett nodded her head vigorously. “While I was at the bookstore I overheard a conversation between the Earl of Carrick and the Marquess of Chisenhall. The prince arrived a few days ago, and he’s to make his first appearance tonight at the Silverly ball.”

  “That’s fascinating,” Hyacinth said. Was it too much to hope that the Earl of Carrick wouldn’t be a part of the prince’s entourage? She hated that man… That was the only disconcerting news Scarlett had imparted thus far. She stared at her pink gown, even more frustrated than before. How was she to shine for the prince in such a dull color? She’ll have to try. Hyacinth couldn’t be certain what might work, but she would worry about that later. “Are you attending the ball tonight then?”

  “Indeed,” Scarlett said. “It’s not every day that a new prince visits. Do you suppose he’ll be handsome?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Though she hoped he proved to be much more handsome than the Duke of Whitewood. That would be another thing she could lord over Lady Elizabeth. She wrinkled her nose. “Not all princes are created equal. Did you overhear any other pertinent details?”

  Scarlett shook her head. “Not much… His name is Adrian Ene, the Crown Prince of Vasinova. The earl and marquess moved out of the bookstore and left it impossible for me to hear anything else.”

  “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see at the ball. Has the carriage been called for?” She stepped fully into the hall and started for the stairs. Scarlett would follow along. “It should be time to leave, don’t you think?”

  At the bottom of the staircase, Scarlett’s father, Killian, the Earl of Thornbury, was waiting. “Ah, there the two of you are,” he said. “I thought I’d have to go in search of you.”

  Scarlett giggled. “Father, you worry too much. We’re not late in the least. I didn’t realize you would be chaperoning us tonight.”

  He smiled at her. “Your dear Aunt Odessa is indisposed tonight and begged me to stand in for her. I hope that’s all right with you.”

  “As long as you don’t chase all my suitors away.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not that I have many.”

  “Which suits me fine,” he said and chuckled. “No man is good enough for my daughter.” He turned toward Hyacinth. “Or my niece.”

  “Thank you for remembering my existence, Uncle Killian,” she chastised him. “I’m glad you’ll be with us tonight. My mother needs to take better care of herself.”

  “Then we better be off,” he said. “So she doesn’t have time to reconsider her decision to stay in. Hurry out the door and in the carriage now.” He shooed them both through the foyer.

  The trek to the Silverly ball wasn’t a long one; however, the line of carriages delayed entrance by at least an hour. Hyacinth didn’t usually mind because she liked being fashionably late. The more people in the ballroom when she was announced the better. Tonight though, she wanted inside as soon as possible. She wanted to sneak a glance at the prince.

  “This is taking too long,” Scarlett whined.

  “Are you regretting your decision to attend the ball?” Hyacinth raised a brow. “This’s normal. You do remember that, do you not?” Of course, she was equally impatient, but she’d never admit that aloud. She could encourage Scarlett’s bad behavior. It might help her get inside faster.

  “I didn’t forget,” Scarlett sneered. “That doesn’t mean I like it.”

  They finally reached the entrance. A footman opened the carriage door and assisted Hyacinth and Scarlett down. Uncle Killian followed after. They went inside and waited for one of the servants to announce them. When they entered the ballroom, it was almost at full capacity. The entire ton must have decided to attend the Silverly ball. The news had gone widespread regarding the Prince’s arrival. That could be the only explanation for the large crowd.

  “Are you actually going to dance?” she asked Scarlett. “Or are you going to hug the wall tonight?”

  “I actually thought I might spend some time in the card room,” she retorted. “There is more interesting conversation in there, and I might find someone worth spending time with.”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort,” her father ordered. “You’ll stay in this ballroom the entire night or we’re going home this second.”

  Hyacinth held back a smile. This was why she had been glad her uncle agreed to chaperone them instead of her mother. He would be solely focused on Scarlett and Hyacinth could do whatever she pleased. For once, their roles would be reversed.

  “Don’t worry Uncle Killian,” Hyacinth said and smiled serenely at him. “Scarlett wouldn’t dare disappoint you.”

  Her cousin glared at her and then at her father. “You’re both awful.” She probably would have stomped her foot in defiance if they were at home. Even Scarlett had limits. “Fine. I’ll dance. But I refuse to like it.”

  “As long as we understand each other.”

  Hyacinth fought back laughter. “I’ll leave you two to your discussion. I’m going to get something to drink from the refreshment table and find a few gentlemen to sign my dance card.”

  She slipped away before either one of them could stop her. Hyacinth had a purpose, and she would not allow anything to prevent her from finding the prince. Of course, she had no inkling of what he looked like, but it shouldn’t be difficult to discern his identity. Hyacinth was acquainted with most of the members of the ton. So, in theory, she should be able to locate him based on the fact he’d be one of the few individuals at the ball she didn’t actually know. There may be a few holes in that notion, but it was all she had.

  Hyacinth circled the ballroom, but she didn’t catch sight of the prince. Frustration grew inside of her. Perhaps he hadn’t arrived yet, or he may have gone outside to the garden for a bit of fresh air. She had checked every other possible location, so why not go out side. It was a little chilly for spring weather, but not horribly so.

  She slipped out the doors leading to the terrace and stared up. Stars glittered the dark sky like diamonds on velvet. Hyacinth was briefly mesmerized by the sheer beauty of it, but shook the fleeting moment off. She didn’t have time for wistfulness or anything that might distract her. Hyacinth strolled along the balcony until she reached a set of stairs that led toward the garden.

  The only light guiding her path came from the full moon overhead. It was enough, or at least she hoped. She stumbled a little down the steps and reached for the railing to keep from falling. Her foot slipped on the bottom step, and she fell forward, hitting the ground hard. She cursed under her breath.

  Her palms stung from the tiny pebbles that were all over the stone path. She her hands together to try to ease the pain. “My luck would be like this,” Hyacinth grumbled. “This is what I get searching for a prince to swoop in and save me. I don’t know why I bother.”

  “Who’s there?” a man asked.

  Hyacinth glanced toward the sound. The last thing she wanted was to be discovered in her current predicament. She scrambled to her feet and rushed to hide behind a nearby bush. The gentleman who’d called out, or she presumed it was the same one, came a little closer and glanced around. He seemed to accept that no one was around. Hyacinth took a deep breath and held it until he headed back in the direction he’d come from. She blew it out slowly, but started to panic when he stopped. Another gentleman joined him.

  “It must be voices carrying from the ball,” he said.

  “Are you certain, Marius?” his companion asked. Both of them spoke in an accent Hyacinth didn’t recognize. Could they both be from Vasinova? Perhaps one of them was the prince. Excitement filled her. She couldn’t reveal herself to them now though. How would that look? The prince would never consider her as a potential wife if she was seen frolicking in bushes at a ball.

  “As certain as I can be, Your Highness,” Marius answered.

  It was the prince! She could barely conceal her delight. If only she dared to sneak a glance. At least she had some proximity to him. Eavesdropping on their conversation might prove useful in her end
eavor.

  “Very well,” the prince said. “But to be safe, perhaps we should continue our conversation in a more private location.”

  “You’re right, of course,” Marius agreed. “This visit to England is too important to misstep now. We should mingle a little more with their high society. It’ll help conceal our true purpose.”

  What did he mean by that? Hyacinth couldn’t fathom what their actual intent might be, and she wasn’t certain she cared. None of that mattered to what she truly desired. She would be a princess.

  The men walked away and headed back into the ballroom. Once she was certain they had gone back inside, she slipped out from the bushes. Her dress and hair must be a fright. She would have to sneak into the ladies’ retiring room and repair the damage.

  She strolled toward the stairs and ran smack into a hard male chest. Hyacinth stumbled backward, but he caught her before she could hit the ground, again.

  “Lady Hyacinth,” the gentleman said with a hint of displeasure in his tone. “What the are you scheming now?”

  Hyacinth groaned. Of course he would be the one to catch her. Not that she’d have fallen in the first place, if not for him stepping in front of her. She really hated Rhys Rossington, the Earl of Carrick. He was the bane of her existence…

  Excerpt: The Vixen in Red

  Bluestockings Defying Rogues Book Eight

  Dawn Brower

  Chapter 1

  The sun was high in the sky and the wind blew lightly across Lady Charlotte Rossington’s face. The garden at her father’s, the Marquess of Seabrook’s, London house had started to bloom. The flowers were mere buds, but they showed promise of being true beauties when they reached their peak. She reached down and brushed her fingers over the tiny buds and smiled.

  “Are you certain this plan of yours is wise?” Her closest friend, Lady Pearyn Treedale asked. Her dark locks were pinned back into an intricate chignon, but a few tendrils had escaped in the breeze. Her blue eyes were the same shade as the sky. She was a true beauty and one day would be a duchess, if her fiancé ever deigned to return to England. Pear didn’t mind his absence. She’d enjoyed being out in society without having to bother with finding a suitor. In some ways Charlotte envied her. She very much did not want to partake in any society events.

  “It’s the only way I can make my mother understand my wishes. Her only desire is to see me married and having babies.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I have more wants and desires than can be found in wedding vows and a lifetime of marriage. She may have found happiness with my father, but I would prefer to have much more than love to sustain me in my future.” Maybe one day she wouldn’t mind finding a man to give her heart to, but not for a long time. Charlotte wanted time to be alone, explore who she was deep inside, and write. She had so many ideas and she wanted to have time to put the stories inside her head down. Sharing those stories with the world was her greatest dream. She would not be able to do any of that if her mother forced her to participate in the season.

  Pear took a deep breath. “I understand, I do, but I cannot help wishing there was a better way.” She twisted her mouth into a frown. It was not a pretty look on such a lovely face. “The scandal…”

  “Is the reason I’m doing it at all,” she reminded her friend. “My mother won’t have any choice. She’ll have to let me return to Seabrook. There I can weather the scandal and I’ll be left in peace to write my first novel. It will work, I know it will.” Her mother, Rosanna, the Marchioness of Seabrook, would be livid.

  “I still do not like it. With you at Seabrook I’ll be left alone in London all season. I’ll miss you.” Pear sighed. “And with you in seclusion your mother will not have a house party as she usually does. The one at Weston Manor will also be off limits for you. This seems extreme. Is writing your book worth being without any social interactions for months?”

  She nodded her head vigorously. “Yes, yes, and yes,” Charlotte said. The very thought of being alone to write…it filled her heart with happiness. “It won’t be so terrible. We can still write each other and I’ll have my family. Well, mother and father. I’m not certain what Rhys will decide to do. He might spend time in London with his wife.”

  Before her brother Rhys, the Earl of Carrick had married Lady Hyacinth, Charlotte had been thrilled at the idea of attending balls, soirees, musicals, anything that involved society. Her young heart had seen it as an opportunity, and in some ways it had been. The first year had been wondrous. Until she thought she’d fallen in love, and the rogue broke her heart. She gave up on finding someone. It hurt too much when the gentleman of her dreams crushed her fragile heart. She’d much rather take control of her life, and this scandal was the first step.

  Pear tapped her fingers on the bench she sat on as Charlotte paced the garden path near it. “I suppose you wish for me to accompany you on this endeavor of yours.”

  “I would like it if you would,” she said. “It gives my statement credence.” The ton would notice Charlotte either way, but with Pear they would also gain the attention of any gentleman that happened to be nearby. Considering her affianced state it drew them all to her side. They thought they might coax her in breaking her engagement. What they didn’t understand was that she liked being engaged; however, Pear had no desire to actually be married. She didn’t want love any more than Charlotte did.

  “Very well,” she agreed. “I’ll be glad to assist you in ruining yourself.” She sighed heavily. “It is all quite dramatic. I hope that the end result is as you hope. I would hate for this elaborate scheme to be for naught.”

  “So you have mentioned several times.” Charlotte grinned. “You truly are the greatest friend a lady could have.” Then she clapped her hands with excitement. “I cannot wait.”

  “I can,” Pear said dryly. “Once this is done I’ll not likely see you until Christmastide.”

  “Don’t be sour,” Charlotte chastised her. “It is unbecoming.”

  “Now you sound like your mother,” Pear said distastefully. “I don’t think you’re as unalike as you claim.”

  They might have some similarities, but there were not many. “We don’t even look much alike. My coloring is more like my father’s.” Her hair had the same golden hue as her father’s but her eyes were a blue shade somewhere in-between her mother and father’s. Even her brother favored their father in looks. It was odd that neither one of them looked much like their mother. “Mother has complained about that often enough. She once said that if she hadn’t given birth to us she wouldn’t have believed us to be her children. It was very crass of her to say aloud.” She giggled. “Though to be fair we were being termagants at the time.”

  “I do not doubt that,” Pear told her. “You can be quite the hellion from time to time.” She narrowed her gaze. “After this they’ll consider you more of a vixen. Are you prepared for all the negative gossip?”

  She had thought long and hard about it. Charlotte wouldn’t enjoy what some in society would openly say about her. Some of it might even…sting. “It won’t be anything resembling enjoyment, but I do believe I can withstand even the harshest of criticisms.” Most of which would come from her own mother’s sharp tongue. “Once I’m back at Seabrook I won’t be privy to it any longer. So I can pretend they aren’t saying anything at all. I’ll be peacefully writing and forgetting the scandal. I will be all right.” She smiled at Pear. “I do appreciate your concern for my welfare.”

  “Since you are resigned,” Pear began. “Then we should prepare for this scandal of yours. I’ll have the stables prepare our horses. Meet me there after you’ve made your wardrobe adjustments.”

  “Perfect,” Charlotte said. “I’ll meet you in the stable in twenty minutes. It should not take me long. We need to be away from the house and in Hyde Park before my parent’s return from their luncheon with the Duke and Duchess of Huntly.”

  “Shoo,” Pear replied and waved her hands at her. “There isn’t a moment to lose.”


  Charlotte sprinted to the house and ran up to her bedchamber. Once there she stripped her gown, chemise, and shift off. Then she proceeded to change into a pair of her brother’s old breeches, linen shirt, waistcoat, and jacket. She had been lucky enough to locate an old pair of his riding boots as well. Charlotte let her hair down from the chignon and plaited it, then twisted it in a knot at her nape. Once her hair was secured she slid a gentleman’s hat on top her head. If not for her bosom and curves she might have been mistaken for a man at first glance. Satisfied with her handiwork she rushed down the stairs; careful to ensure no one noticed her, then went out to the stable.

  Pear was already seated on her horse, and a groomsman held the reins to Charlotte’s mare. She didn’t ask him for assistance mounting. Charlotte strode to the block and slid on to the horse herself. Breeches were so freeing! She would have to figure out ways to wear them more often. She could ride like a man and not worry over a sidesaddle. Charlotte had instructed Pear to request a regular saddle. She was glad to see the groom had followed her directions. She turned to Pear and asked, “Are you ready?”

  “Are we taking a chaperone?”

  “That would defeat the purpose don’t you think?” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Are you worried about your reputation?” Charlotte didn’t want to cause her friend any harm.

  “I will be all right either way,” Pear told her. “I don’t have to worry about securing a good match. I’m flush with funds and I even have a fiancé if he decides traveling the continent is boring and returns to England. I was uncertain how much of a scandal you wished to cause is all.”