by Julia London
“God help me, but I can’t help myself. I will mourn you when I go, Caroline. You have...you have enlightened me. Shown me what it is to live freely in one’s skin. You have made me feel things I’ve never felt—”
“Leopold, there’s more,” she said quickly. “You’re being followed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Mayfair is abuzz with anticipation for the Pennybacker ball. No expense has been spared, and curiously, the invitation list has recently been expanded by one noble name. Even more curious is that the expansion occurred the morning after the select list of invitees for a supper at the home of Lord Farrington were delivered. There is no explanation for this change, but we all know that rivalries die hard.
—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and
Domesticity for Ladies
AMAZINGLY, LEO DIDN’T ask who was following him or why right away. He sighed wearily, as if this was not completely unexpected.
Caroline got up and hurried to the door to the drawing room. She looked out into the hall, then quietly shut the door.
“What—”
She put a finger to her lips, listening for footfall in the hallway. When she heard none, she breathed, and went back to the settee and sat next to Leo. “They were gentlemen from the foreign secretary’s office. They asked me to...to keep an eye, really, and said there was reason to believe you were plotting with your uncle to overthrow your father.”
Leo drew a breath that flared his nostrils. “Bloody hell.”
“I can fend them off,” she said confidently.
He snapped his gaze to hers, alarmed. “These are not parlor games, love. You must tell Beck.”
“Are you mad? He’d not let me out of his sight, much less allow me to attend the Pennybacker ball. Listen, we haven’t any time to spare. I must call on Nancy Pennybacker and gain you an invitation—”
He suddenly wrapped his arms around her and drew her into his chest, cupping the back of her head and pressing it against his shoulder. “For God’s sake, don’t do anything. I told you about the girls only because I wanted you to understand—not to involve you. I love you, Caroline. I would never put you in harm’s way.”
Caroline gasped. She pushed out of his embrace, with a strength born from a sudden and wild mix of emotions. Had he really just confessed his love for her? And did he really think she would be so easily put off? She took his face in her hands and made him look at her. “I am going to help you, Leopold, and you can’t command me to do otherwise. I am the only one who can help you.”
He caressed her earlobe with his thumb. “You’re right. I came here because I need your help. In fact you are the only one who can help me, the only one I can trust. I need to hide them.”
That was not the sort of help she had in mind. “Where? Here?”
“It’s better than the Clarendon Hotel. Can you imagine the speculation?”
Oh, but she could. “Not here,” she said, her thoughts churning. “Beck—”
“Je, of course,” Leo sighed and bowed his head. “I knew it was asking too much, but thought it worth the chance.”
“Not here. Hollis’s house.”
Leo’s head snapped up. “I won’t involve her, either, Caroline.”
“You can’t take them there, obviously, but perhaps you could send them with one of your guards?”
“Caroline! Hollis Honeycutt knows nothing about this. I won’t do it.”
“You won’t, but I will,” Caroline said. “Hollis will help in any way that she can. And she will because I ask her, Leopold. She loves me as I love her.”
He looked as if he wanted to argue. But he didn’t. He said, “As God as my witness, I have done nothing in my life to deserve you. I do love you.”
He couldn’t possibly know what those words meant to her—more than life itself in that moment. But they were almost too painful to hear. She couldn’t bear to hear him confess his love, then set sail for a marriage in Alucia. “Don’t say that,” she whispered. “Please don’t say that.”
He didn’t say it again. He pulled her to him and kissed her. It felt to Caroline as if the room closed around them, shielding them from the world. She could feel an eruption at the core of her with all the yearning she’d felt for him since that night in Chichester, a tiny volcano of want and need and hope. That was the first time she’d really noticed how handsome he was, how tall he stood, how finely he dressed, how his smile seemed to radiate from somewhere inside him. And then all the yearning she’d had the day Eliza married, when she’d seen him standing so regally beside his brother.
And in these last few weeks, all the yearning she’d suffered every time he’d touched her or kissed her. His lips were the beacon, his warmth the shelter, his strength the fence around them. Here she was again, aroused by all those feelings for him, his lips banishing any doubt or concern or fear in her. Everything faded away but the two of them, and the only thing that remained was a deep desire to hold him and love him. She desperately wanted to love him.
Her arousal scorched her blood. She pressed against him, into the hard planes and angles of his body. She touched the corner of his mouth with her fingers, angled her head so that she could deepen this kiss between them. She could feel his arousal, could feel the tension of his desire in the taut way he held his body, in the restraint that radiated from him.
He held her tightly to him, and part of her hoped he never let go. She hoped they never left this room, never ended this kiss. But Leo did end it. He nipped at her lips, kissed her cheek, her forehead, then lifted his head. “Caroline, mang leift, my love, we can’t continue this,” he whispered. “I have three poor souls waiting for me.”
Everything in her hummed. The caress of his voice, his hand...but she nodded. Her body was pulsing and wet and she felt like she could explode with a single touch, and she couldn’t let that happen.
But neither did she want it to end. Because the moment they opened that door, it could very well be the last time he touched her.
Leo stood up and held out his hand to her to help her to her feet. He kissed her once more, this time with particular tenderness. “It would be the end of you and possibly the death of me if anyone of your household was to find us like this,” he whispered. He dropped his hands and stepped away and walked to the door. He glanced back at her, his gaze full of longing. “Tonight? Eight o’clock?”
Caroline nodded. And then she pressed her hands against her belly and watched him walk out the door.
When he’d gone, she stared up at the ceiling and the papier-mâché scrolls there, blinking back tears. She didn’t hear Garrett come in until he spoke.
“Madam?”
Caroline was a master at recovery, she discovered. “Ah, Garrett, there you are. A cloak please. I’m going round to call on Hollis, and I won’t be home for supper.”
She knew herself well enough to know that she was in desperate trouble. Her heart was headed for collision with reality, and it was going to shatter into pieces very soon, because Hollis was right—she loved Leopold. And now he was going to ruin everything by being a good man.
Her heart would be irreparably broken, she was certain of it. But until the moment of its death, there was nothing to be done for it—she had to help him.
* * *
A DAILY MAID let Caroline into Hollis’s home. She found her friend in the drawing room, not in her office. Hollis was perched on a chair before the hearth, reading a broadsheet, a serious look of concentration on her face. Caroline took the chair beside hers and looked around the neat room. It was quite a contrast from the clutter of her office. Even the two cats seemed to be in their places, curled up together on the end of the settee. “Where is Donovan?” Caroline asked.
“I don’t know,” Hollis muttered.
Caroline bent forward to catch Hollis’s eye. “Good evening, Hollis! How are you? What are you doing?”
“Reading the Daily News.” Hollis sighed and lowered the broadsheet. “It’s edited by Charles Dickens. Do you know him?”
“I’ve not met him.”
“He’s printing things that are...worthy, Caro. Items of news that ought to be spread around. Not on-dits. Did you know that Parliament means to establish an entire new system of county courts?”
Caroline laughed. “I certainly did not, and I refuse to know it now. Darling, put that away. I need you just now.”
Hollis blinked. She put the broadsheet away. “Why? What’s happened?”
“I must have Leopold invited to the Pennybacker ball.”
Hollis stared at her. And then she laughed. She laughed so hard she fell back against the settee. “Caro, you are the one who made certain of it he was not invited.”
“Yes, I am well aware, thank you, Hollis. But now I realize it was a terrible mistake.”
Hollis wasn’t through laughing, however. “The seeds you sow, dearest. Shall I venture a guess? You do love him.”
Caroline didn’t have the patience to be coy today. Time was of the essence. “Yes! I am in love with Prince Leopold. There, are you happy now? Will you help me?”
Hollis was still giggling. She reached for Caroline’s hand. “I am happy now. You’re a perfect match. You, too bold by half and terribly impetuous at times, and him, too fond of his ale. All right. But it will require a little cunning.” She stood up and began to pace, one hand on her waist, one finger tapping against her lip. “Ah. Here we are, then. Lady Farrington’s husband has come into quite a lot of money, as I am sure you know.”
Caroline snorted a laugh. “Everyone knows. Priscilla makes certain of it.”
“Nancy Pennybacker can’t abide it when Priscilla has something she doesn’t have. If Nancy knows that Priscilla is having the prince to dine—because you tell her—she will have the prince to her ball. No matter what she thinks of Prince Leopold, she will not allow Priscilla to have royalty into her house before she does.”
A slow smile spread across Caroline’s lips. “That is positively diabolical, Hollis.”
“I study the on-dits, darling. But you must convince Priscilla she ought to have him.”
Caroline stood up. “That’s the easiest thing I might do this week. But Hollis, there is more.”
“No,” Hollis said, and fell very ungracefully into her chair, and propped one foot against the fire screen. “I can’t help you with Lady Norfolk.”
“No, something else—I need a rather large favor. I need you to take in two young women and a boy. But only temporarily,” she hastily added.
Hollis dropped her foot and sat up. “Caroline? What have you done?” she asked gravely.
“Nothing. At least not yet.”
Hollis leaned forward. “Tell me.”
Caroline told her everything. Hollis said not a word as she talked—she gaped at her, her eyes round with shock. When Caroline finished, Hollis leaned back in her seat and stared at the ceiling for a very long moment, taking it all in. “I wouldn’t have thought Prince Leopold of all people would be the one to save them from that.”
“No,” Caroline said with a sheepish laugh.
Hollis suddenly surged to her feet and began to pace again. “This is precisely what I was talking about, Caroline. This level of corruption among government officials can’t be allowed to continue! It should be exposed. I mean to write an article—”
“Hollis? The girls?” Caroline asked.
“What? Yes, yes, Caro, of course,” she said with a wave of her hand. “But do you see what I mean? Instead of publishing who has worn what, or the invitation to whose soiree is the most coveted, I ought to publish the real scandals—Oh! Donovan, there you are. We’re to have guests. Two young women and a lad.”
Donovan had come into the salon with wine. He put the bottle and two glasses on a table between the two chairs. “Very well.”
“Shall we put them in adjoining rooms? How long will they be here, Caro?”
She squirmed a little. “Until the prince sails?”
“Ah. Yes, adjoining rooms.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Donovan said, and turned about and walked out whistling under his breath.
Hollis continued giving Caroline her very firm opinions about what a gazette ought to be until ten past eight o’clock, when at last, a knock was heard at the front door.
“They’re here!” Caroline whispered, and she and Hollis leaped from their seats and smoothed their skirts as if they were meeting royalty.
Moments later, Donovan came into the room with two women and a lad. “Is this who you were expecting, madam?”
“I think they are. Thank you, Donovan.”
He said, “I’ll just take their things up to their rooms, then.”
Thank heaven for Hollis, as Caroline was quite speechless. The two women looked exhausted. They were both terribly thin, but it was the sort of thin that didn’t come by choice, judging by the pallor of their skin and the lankness of their hair. And the boy, oh! The poor lad was swallowed in the coat he wore and clung to the hand of the woman—girl, really—Caroline recognized from Arundel.
The three of them looked frightened and wary, and Caroline’s world of experience did not extend to the sort of life they must have led so far. To try and imagine what they’d endured made Caroline feel ill.
Hollis laid her hand on Caroline’s arm. “Would you mind terribly, Caro, darling, to run and ask Emily to bring tea and sandwiches? I think our guests are hungry.”
“Yes!” Caroline said, grateful for something to do. She hurried out of the room, tears blurring her vision for the second time today. She felt such sorrow and despair for those women. But she also felt a swell of pride. Not for her—for Leopold and all that he’d risked to help them.
* * *
CAROLINE HARDLY SLEPT that night, her mind wandering back to Leopold, and the women who were sleeping under Hollis’s roof.
The revelation of what was happening in the very houses she visited left her feeling sad and strangely shallow. When she thought of all the hours and days she’d spent worried about nothing more than what to wear to this party or that supper, while women in meaner circumstances worked hard to just be safe, she felt angry. With life, with herself, with her bubble of privilege, with the meanness in the world.
She desperately wanted to help Leo find the other women. To help in some way. And she desperately needed to turn her mind to something other than the idea he would be leaving soon.
Caroline called on Priscilla that afternoon to finish the fit of the ball gown she’d made for Priscilla to wear to the Pennybacker ball. It was a yellow gown, which, in hindsight, had the effect of making Priscilla’s skin seem sallow. But Priscilla didn’t seem to notice and was thrilled with it.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
“You will be among the most envied, Priscilla.”
Priscilla turned her attention to the mirror, admiring herself. “Nancy is wearing lilac. It’s not a good color for her. Makes her appear chalky.”
Caroline suppressed a roll of her eyes and busied herself with arranging the skirt around Priscilla’s ample frame while nudging curious little dogs out of her path.
“She thinks she is better than all of us, you know,” Priscilla confided in a whisper. “You should have heard her at Madam Brendan’s.”
“Madam Brendan? The hatmaker?”
“We ordered gloves from her and had gone in to be measured. And as we waited for the lady before us to finish, Nancy began to talk rather loudly how all of London looks forward to this ball. ‘We never meant it to be the most anticipated event of the summer, but here it is,’ she said, as if she were the queen herself.”
“The hem is too long in the back. I should pin it,” Caroline observed. “Have you a box or a stool?”
Priscilla rang a delicate little bell next to her vanity. “She claims not to have a single regret offered. All the replies were affirmative.”
“Not everyone will be in attendance, will they,” Caroline said. “The Alucian prince has not been invited.”
Priscilla snorted. “No one cares about him, darling. You yourself told us that.”
Yes, she certainly had. There was never a time she wasn’t prattling on about something and it occurred to her that she perhaps ought to learn the art of prudence. “Well,” she said airily as she shooed another dog away with her hands, “it happens that it wasn’t entirely true. The prince dined with the queen’s husband just last week.” That was an absolute falsehood, and one Caroline instantly hoped was not easily proved as such. She felt awful for lying to her friend...for a full minute. But then, it had the desired effect. One must never underestimate the power of royalty upon those who wish to be included in that vaulted circle.
“Did he? I haven’t heard that said. Tom would know if he had, I should think.”
Caroline flushed with a bit of panic. “Yes, but...but how could Tom know, really? Prince Leopold is not receiving invitations from anyone but Buckingham, so I think no one really knows what he is about. That is, besides Beck.” She pretended to study the hem of Priscilla’s gown.
“Really,” Priscilla said.
“Mmm. I’d have the prince to dine myself were it not for Beck. He goes back and forth between Sussex with that blessed horse of his. I never know when he will be home to have guests to dine. I think he prefers to dine with horses.”
Several moments passed. Caroline feared the subtlety of what she was suggesting was lost on Priscilla. But then Priscilla said, “I could have him to dine.”
Caroline almost let out a shout of small triumph. She glanced up, wide-eyed. “What? You could?”
“Yes, why not?” Priscilla asked airily.
“But...his reputation?”
“Darling! If the gentleman is good enough to dine with Prince Albert, he’s certainly good enough for me.”
