Truth about Leo

by Katie MacAlister

  “Servants? I’m sure we could engage a few quickly enough.”

  “No, your rooms. Are they far? You need to rest. I can see your shoulder is hurting, which means you’ve overextended yourself. The surgeon was most adamant that you use your left arm as little as possible—”

  “I know what he said,” Leo interrupted. “I was right there when he said it. No, my rooms aren’t far, but you need not concern yourself with my health. I assure you I’m quite over the worst. My arm doesn’t hurt at all now.”

  Dagmar gently pressed his shoulder.

  Leo yelped and swore, jerking to the side.

  Dagmar raised her left eyebrow just as he’d done to her the day before.

  “Well, it’s going to hurt if you beat on me like that,” he said indignantly.

  “I am all things contrite,” she apologized. “But it does prove my point that you have overdone it, and you need to restrict your activities until such time as you really are better. For now, we just need to get you into bed.”

  “That will have to be later as well. Once I drop you and your friend at my rooms, I must go into the city to meet with my employers. They will want to know why I am in London rather than where I should be.”

  “You can do that later. You should rest first.”

  “No, I need to do it right away. They won’t have heard what happened to me, and I will need to explain it myself—assuming I can do so when I can’t remember what happened to me.”

  “You’re tired and hurting. The explanation can no doubt wait until tomorrow.”

  Leo turned as best he could in the cramped interior of the carriage and frowned at her. “Stop giving me orders. I don’t like it.”

  “I’m a princess. You yourself pointed out that I outrank you. Therefore, you have to do what I say.”

  “I’m also your husband, and thus the head of the family, in addition to which I don’t like being told what to do.”

  She could be as annoyed as he could. “And you think I do?”

  “You’re a female,” he pointed out, evidently feeling that explained it all.

  “You must be extremely ill indeed if you think that has anything to do with the discussion.”

  By the time they arrived at a tan stone building set in a street of similar tan stone buildings, Dagmar had stated her determination to have her (even more distant than the Danish king) cousin George behead him if he didn’t heed her wisdom and rest before attempting any action so foolish as going out into the damp spring air, and Leo was threatening to go out and purchase the first scold’s bridle he could, which then led to a heated discussion about exactly what a scold’s bridle was, how it was used, and what she (Dagmar) would do to him (Leo) should he ever come within a three-mile radius of her with such a vile contraption.

  “And if you were to so much as even wave that thing in my face, you would be a very sorry individual, because it would not be me who was wearing it!” Dagmar finished as Leo handed her out of the carriage.

  “A scold’s bridle would be too small to fit on a man’s head,” Leo answered with a slight twitch of his lips.

  “You wouldn’t be wearing it on your head,” she answered darkly.

  “Oh, really?”

  Julia hurried over to them, her face alight with pleasure, an expression that faded into confusion when Leo added in a tone that matched Dagmar’s, “Just how exactly would you intend to silence me if the bridle is not used on my face?”

  “You have other orifices on your body than your mouth,” she said with a toss of her head before marching up the five steps to the door.

  “Princess!” Julia gasped, casting a scandalized look at her. “Ladies do not mention gentlemen’s fundaments in such a manner!”

  To Dagmar’s surprise, Leo met her statement with a laugh. “If anyone told me that one day a princess would threaten to shove a medieval metal implement up my—” He stopped, eyed Julia, and with a twist of his lips, turned to pay the two carriage drivers.

  The door behind Dagmar opened to reveal an unwashed servant in dirty, stained clothing. “Aye?” he asked, giving her a leering once-over that instantly made Dagmar feel itchy.

  “Entrance without the opportunity of catching body vermin would be welcome, but I suspect not entirely possible,” she answered coldly, not appreciating the leer or the way the man moved to stand closer to her. She turned to look over her shoulder, calling out, “Leo, on what floor are your rooms?”

  “Second,” he answered, evidently in the middle of an argument with one of the carriage drivers. “But don’t go up yet. I’m not sure if the man who shares my lodgings is in or not.”

  The repulsive man at the door sucked his teeth, continuing to eye her with a speculative glint that faded into a knowing half smile. Dagmar waited as patiently as she could until Leo returned, allowing him to escort her up three flights of narrow, ill-lit stairs until arriving at a small suite of rooms.

  The rooms appeared to be empty and bore an uninhabited air that had Leo sighing in relief. “Looks like Nick is out of the country too.”

  “Nick is the man with whom you share your rooms?”

  “Yes. He also does some work for the government.”

  “Does he do the same thing as you?” Dagmar asked, more because she wanted to keep Leo there than because she was interested in his friends. The way he was standing clearly indicated he was in pain.

  Leo’s gaze flickered briefly to Julia. “Something like that. Well, it looks like you ladies will have the place to yourself. Set the bags there, Jacob. I won’t need you any further today, although you can check with the ladies later to see if they want tea or food. This, as you can see, is the sitting room. Stay here while I see the landlady. She is very strict about visitors and doesn’t allow females at all.”

  “That’s going to make living here a little awkward,” Dagmar said, looking around, her eyes widening as she did so. The room was done in astonishing shades of pink-and-green plaid, not at all what she thought of as a gentleman’s decor.

  “She won’t let you live here,” Leo said from the door, the white lines around his mouth etching a bit deeper.

  Dagmar wanted desperately to make him rest but was at a loss as to how to go about doing that. He seemed disinclined to obey any orders given him, and she doubted whether tears would be effective, assuming she managed to summon them up.

  “Then why are you seeing her?” she asked.

  “I’m going to tell her that you’re both here just a few hours while I find some sort of accommodation. Ring for Jacob if you need anything, and stay put and out of trouble. And don’t wander around the rest of the house. Mrs. Lovelily wouldn’t like that at all.”

  “I have the feeling that we’ve been dumped just as summarily as our luggage,” Dagmar told Julia as the door closed behind Leo. “And I don’t like that feeling one little bit.”

  “I think it was a kindness of Lord March to bring us to his private lodgings rather than making us bounce around in those horrid carriages while he finds us a place to live,” Julia said, rubbing her arms against the chill in the room. “Do you think we might ask that man for a fire?”

  Dagmar glanced at the fireplace but saw no coal. “We could, or we could warm up by means of a brisk walk around town. I’m anxious to see London after you’ve sung its praises so much, and Leo will probably be away for a few hours.”

  “But dearest Dagmar, Lord March specifically said for us to stay here.” Julia looked horrified at the thought of disobeying Leo’s strictures.

  Oddly, that made Dagmar want to do so even more than before. She strolled over to the window and looked down on the street below. One of the carriages remained, obviously waiting for Leo. “We’ve been cooped up on a ship for endless months—”

  “It wasn’t really more than two weeks, my dear—”

  Leo dashed out of the door and jumpe
d into the carriage. The driver flicked his whip, and the carriage lurched forward. Drat the man for casting aside Julia and her as though they were a pair of dirty boots. “And now that we’re able to move around again, you want to stay trapped inside these horrible, dusty rooms? Not me. I’d rather get some exercise and see the sights. At least the ones local to this area.”

  “But his lordship—”

  She turned her back to the window and patted her hip to make sure her funds (the few coins and banknotes that Leo had on his person when they found him) were secure in the pocket buttoned to the inside of her gown. “His lordship is gone, and I have no intention of moldering in this room. Stay here if you wish. I’ll tell that repulsive man to build a fire so you won’t take chill.”

  “My dear, I think this is most unwise—”

  Dagmar closed the door on Julia’s protests, jumping slightly when a man loomed out of the shadows at her. She thought at first it was Jacob, but this man, although clad in clothes of equal repugnance, appeared less filthy. He was slightly taller than Leo and had thick, curly black hair. He paused when he saw her.

  “Mrs. Deworthy would like a fire,” Dagmar told him, assuming he was another servant.

  The man raised his eyebrows. “She would?”

  “Yes, she is chilled. I happen to think it’s rather balmy out, but Julia has always been rather thin blooded.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I’m going out,” Dagmar continued, pulling on the pair of gloves that had more holes than doeskin remaining. “I realize that Lord March said to stay put, but he is sadly mistaken if he thinks I have nothing better to do with my time than to wait around for his return.”

  “Ah, you are one of Leo’s…er…” The man, who seemed nicely spoken for a servant, nodded toward the door.

  “Yes.” The more Dagmar thought about it, the more annoyed she was with Leo simply parking them at his room and leaving. Clearly he was going to find some hotel or other in which he could lodge them and conveniently forget their existence. To be honest, she didn’t blame him for that, since he hadn’t asked for the responsibility of Julia and her to be thrust upon him. Well, her mother had raised her better than to be a burden. She was a princess, and she had all of ten pounds hidden in her underthings; she’d go out and find a shop she could take over, preferably one with lodgings attached. Then Leo would be absolved of all responsibilities toward them. “If he comes back before I return, you may tell him that I am seeking alternate means of support.”

  “Alternate means…” The man blinked a few times as she brushed past him. “Here, I don’t think Leo is going to like it if you’re off looking for another protector while you’re with him. And just who is Mrs. Deworthy?”

  “She’s my companion.”

  The man shot a startled look at the door. “Leo has…he arranged for both of you?”

  He sounded oddly scandalized. Clearly he wasn’t used to ladies of their quality. “Yes, of course. I couldn’t leave Julia behind, and Leo said she must stay with us.”

  The man, who appeared to be in his middle twenties, frowned. “You are German?”

  “Danish. Julia’s English, though.”

  “And you and Leo and this Julia…” He made a vague stirring gesture. “All three of you? At the same time?”

  What a very odd man. She didn’t understand why he was so confused by the idea of Julia living with Leo and her, but evidently he was. Before she could explain that it wasn’t necessarily going to happen—thus her going out to seek a shop and lodgings—the man continued on.

  “No, never mind, it’s none of my business what Leo does.”

  “Exactly so,” Dagmar said, approving of that sentiment. She passed him and started down the stairs, calling after her, “Don’t forget Julia’s fire.”

  She emerged into the late spring morning, took a deep breath of coal-scented air tinged with horse manure, and set off to set off at a brisk walk to see what sort of a future was available to her.

  Eight

  It is right and proper for a princess to revere her family. It is wrong for her to call her cousin a fat-headed ignorant son of a puss-filled weasel.

  —Princess Christian of Sonderburg-Beck’s Guide for Her Daughter’s Illumination and Betterment

  Leo’s shoulder was on fire, his chest ached, and his head felt hot, all of which contributed to the general horrible nature of the day. He’d had no luck finding a hotel suitable for a gentlewoman, and his only relation who had a house in town had let it for the spring and summer and was off enjoying himself in sunnier climes.

  Leo climbed back into the hired hack, wanting nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed for a year or two, but his ears still rang with the words that his landlady had hurled at him. “I run a decent house, I do! Have yer hussies out by teatime, or ye can find yerself new rooms!” He had to find somewhere Dagmar and her maid could stay, and he had to find it soon.

  “Where to now?” the carriage driver asked as he hauled his aching body into the carriage.

  He racked his brain. Who did he know who was in town? That was hard to answer since he’d been away from England for almost six months. There were Nick’s parents—Leo had gone to Oxford with Nick and spent his holidays in the Britton household—but Noble and Gillian were usually in the country at this time of year.

  Perhaps they had come up to town for the season? Nick’s younger sisters had to be about ready to enter society. “Warwick Square,” he told the driver and sat back exhaustedly, praying the Earl of Weston and his family were in town.

  They weren’t.

  “Damn and blast,” he snarled when a scared-looking servant informed him that the earl was at his country residence.

  A giggle from a woman strolling past him had him absently doffing his hat and murmuring an apology for his language. Now what was he going to do? Who on earth could he trust with Dagmar? Philip Dalton’s offer floated tantalizingly in front of him, but he hesitated to unload his wife on two people he barely knew. No, he had to find someone else of his acquaintance, someone who would not only keep Dagmar safe, but could discourage her from mingling with society, at least until he’d had time to figure out what they were going to do with their lives.

  “Leo?”

  He stopped staring at nothing and focused on the woman who had giggled at his outburst. She was a tall, slender woman in her early twenties, with short, curly brown hair, and three spotted dogs that twined around her, tangling their leashes around her legs.

  “Yes? Er…do I have the pleasure—”

  “I’m Thom,” she said, smiling and holding out her hand.

  He shook her hand gravely, searching his memory for her. “Er…”

  “I haven’t seen you in…oh, it must be four years. Do you remember? You and Nick came to stay with Harry and my Aunt Plum that summer.”

  “Thom!” he said, a sudden memory returning of that idyllic summer. Thom was the niece by marriage of Nick’s godfather, the Marquis of Rosse. “You had just come home from a finishing school, as I recall. In Switzerland?”

  “Germany, and it was a school of animal medicine, actually.” She gestured toward the dogs. “I’ve always loved animals, you see, and when Aunt Plum said my rough edges needed smoothing in order to be unleashed on society, I was doomed to be sent to a finishing school. Luckily, Harry suggested that all I needed was a little foreign polish, so we settled on a school in Heidelberg that teaches animal medicine. How have you been? You went to the Continent a few months ago, didn’t you? Did you fight Napoleon? You look like you’ve been kicked backward by a left-handed mule. Have you seen Nick?”

  The barrage of questions attempted to conceal the real one of importance to her, but Leo had been well aware that for the last few years Thom had held a tendresse for his friend. He’d rather imagined that they would make a match of it, but Nick evidently had other plan
s. Then again, Leo supposed that even the most ardent of lovers would find it difficult to woo a girl when he was more often out of the country than in it.

  “I’ll live, yes, not directly, I feel that way, and not in several months. I rather thought he was in Spain. It’s a pleasure to see you again. How are your aunt and uncle?”

  “Good, although Aunt Plum is being driven mad by Harry’s eldest daughter, India. She’s coming out this year, you know, and Aunt Plum hates society and would rather have red-hot nails driven into her eyeballs than to have to go to balls and routs and all that—a point upon which I wholeheartedly agree, I might say—but she’s determined to do right by India, so we’re here to get Aunt Plum acclimatized. All except the boys. Digger and MacTavish are in school.”

  Leo’s ears perked up. “Lord Rosse is in town?”

  “Yes.” Thom gestured across the square, where a pale yellow house with tall, white pillars sat. “I was just taking the dogs for a walk. Aunt Plum had a dressmaker in to work on some gowns for India, and she threatened to have some made for me as well. I thought it better to be out of the house until that particular nightmare is over.”

  Leo laughed. He’d always thought Thom a peculiar—if charming—young woman, and he could see that she hadn’t changed in the years that had passed since they last met.

  “I don’t suppose you’re looking for some way in which to fill your time?” he asked, an idea forming even as he spoke.

  “Would it keep me out of Aunt Plum’s way while she’s in full dressmaking mode?” Thom asked.

  He considered the question and had to answer honestly, “Not entirely, but I can help divert Lady Rosse’s attention to that of a new subject.”

  “Oh? Who would that be?”

  “My wife. She’s Danish, needs a new wardrobe, and I suspect would like being shown around town.” He held out his arm for Thom, who automatically took it. “Shall we stroll to your house? I’d like to beg an extremely large favor of your aunt and uncle.”