An unfortunate encounter with a candle nearly set Lady Hogarth aflame. It is highly recommended that one not stand so close to the dinner buffet when dressed in formal wear.

The number of potential suitors for the sister of a baron has grown, as word of a sizable dowry has spread like the Great Fire of London.

—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and


Domesticity for Ladies

FOR ONCE, BECK had proven himself to be dreadfully serious in his quest to see Caroline married, particularly after they returned from Sussex.

Two days ago, he’d wandered into her room and had surveyed the bolts of cloth and dress forms before leveling a gaze on Caroline. She was seated on the floor with her legs crossed, still in her dressing gown, poring over fashion plates.

“What has happened?” he asked, casting one arm out. “Has a cyclone struck? An earthquake? Has a gang ransacked our home?”

“You’re so amusing, Beck! As you can see, I am making dresses.”

“When did this become your leisurely pursuit? I’ve never known you to give your attention to anything other than the post and the invitations that might be there.”

“That is not true. I’ve been interested in very many things, but you’re so busy with your carousing you haven’t noticed. If you are truly interested, I’ve always been fascinated with the latest styles, but my desire to make my own began when the Alucians arrived in town.”

“Alucians have been in London since the dawn of time,” Beck pointed out.

“You’re right—my interest peaked when the royal Alucians came to London. Why do you care?”

“Because I’d rather not scare off any potential suitors with bolts of cloth and dress forms and any other indication of your wretched spending habits,” he said, fluttering his fingers at the piles of cloth. “Lord March was quite plainly frightened.”

She shrugged.

“Robert Ladley and his cousin Betina will come to dine this evening, and next week, we will join the Pennybackers and meet Mr. Trent.”

“Mr. Trent?” She looked up at him. “Who is Mr. Trent?”

“He is a gentleman of good looks and moral character, but more important, he’s made a bloody fortune in the manufacture of steam-powered agricultural implements.”

“Pardon?”

“Thrashers and whatnot,” Beck said with a flick of his wrist.

Caroline could not see herself married to a man who made thrashers and whatnot. She wasn’t entirely sure what that was, but it didn’t sound very glamorous.

Beck sighed impatiently. “He is a wealthy man, Caro. He is young and fit, and he is in need of a wife. You are a pretty woman with a generous dowry and in need of a husband. You might as well set your mind to it. I’m determined to do what our parents would have wanted and marry you well. Now, as you know, I am leaving this afternoon for Sussex and the Four Corners race. While I’m away, Uncle Hogarth and his wife will arrive in London with their cousin, Viscount Ainsley. Surely one of these gentlemen will be to your liking.”

“How can you even suggest it? Do you know Mr. Trent or Viscount Hainey?”

“Ainsley,” Beck said. He stepped over a bolt of cloth on his way to the door. “I don’t need to know them. I need only ensure that they have the means to provide for you and care for you. I’m to Sussex.”

“Is that all you need to know? What if you make your grand arrangement and attach the almighty pound to it, and we find we are hopelessly incompatible?”

“Unlikely,” he said flippantly.

“Why do you not attend to your own marriage, and leave me be? I am perfectly content the way things are.”

“It’s not natural. And when you are gone from my care, perhaps I will indeed invite a wife into this,” he said, gesturing at her room. “There’s no point in arguing, darling! You will be engaged by the year’s end.” He walked out.

“That’s what you think,” Caroline muttered darkly, and turned back to her fashion plates. She was not interested in the gentlemen Beck had rustled up for her. Even the two she’d never met, which, admittedly, would normally thrill her. She loved meeting new gentlemen and flirting with them and playing her little game. How long before they were smitten? How quickly could she turn their head? Hollis said she was vain, and Caroline had readily agreed that was true. But that wasn’t it, that wasn’t it at all. Until recently, she hadn’t met a man yet who truly deserved her, whose curiosity had emboldened her to show a different side of herself, to take that chance that perhaps she was not as awful as she feared...and when she did meet that man, he was the worst man on earth.

It vexed her no end that she could scarcely think of anyone else but Leopold. She would be glad when he was gone from their shores, because as long as he was here, she was consumed with thoughts of him. He was a sickness, a fever she couldn’t shake. It was maddening to think of him so often and to constantly recall that night and the way his mouth felt on her. It was absurd to pine for a man who would rather dip his wick into the poor maids across Mayfair. It was infuriating to still want to be near him after what had happened in Arundel.

Caroline didn’t make sense to herself anymore. She’d never been like this—she’d always known exactly what she wanted and was quick to withdraw her affections or attention the moment a gentleman became bothersome. But not this one—this one, this prince, made her feel ravenous, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. As if she’d eaten an entire raspberry cake and still wanted her supper.

Oh, but he’d done it, that scoundrel. He was persona non grata in any respectable house after what had happened in Arundel. Word had spread quickly...perhaps because she’d come back and gone directly to Hollis.

She’d not heard a word from him since their return, either. Every time someone came to the door, she would rush to the railing above the entry and remain just out of sight to see who had come, in the same manner she used to do when she was a girl. In the same manner she’d done in Constantine Palace. It was never anyone but Beck and his friends. Why didn’t he call? Why didn’t he at least call on Beck? She was desperate to ask her brother if he had ended his friendship with the prince on principle. That didn’t sound like Beck, but then again, there were occasions when he would step out on principle.

On the other hand, she didn’t dare ask Beck a thing lest she risk him knowing all the confusing thoughts rattling around her.

Whatever had transpired between Beck and Leopold, it seemed apparent by week’s end that they’d gone their separate ways. Beck hadn’t mentioned him at all, and now he’d departed to Sussex. She was left with nothing. No explanation, nothing but the burning hole in her heart.


WHEN PRINCE LEOPOLD DID, at last, call on the Hawke household, he did so at the most inopportune time. Uncle Hogarth and Aunt Clarissa were in her salon, flanking their young friend, the perfectly polite and handsome Viscount Ainsley. Lord Ladley had arrived, too, clearly having heard of the Hogarth visit from Beck, and clearly not wanting to lose ground to an interloper who’d only just returned from America.

Generally, Caroline would be beside herself with glee to have so many gentlemen assembled in her salon. There was nothing more pleasing than when a prince came calling while others were around to witness. But not this prince and not this time. The moment Garrett said his name, she’d wished the floor would open up and swallow her guests whole.

The five of them were to dine at the Debridges’ house that evening, along with ten other souls. Someone had brought up the prospect of dancing, and Aunt Clarissa had lamented the fact that she had not learned the latest Alucian dance making its rounds of London salons. Uncle Hogarth had boasted that Caroline was a fine dancer, and to the merriment of all, Caroline was attempting to show her aunt the dance steps as the gentlemen had a port. They were all laughing when Garrett interrupted to announce a caller.

“Oh?” Caroline said, surprised. “Who is it?”

“His Royal Highness Prince Leopold.”

Her heart fluttered instantly, and she was thankful she was standing behind her aunt, because she could feel the heat creeping into her face. “Oh.” She wanted to sound light and carefree, but was certain her voice sounded pinched. Her throat felt strained, actually, much like her chest. “Have you informed him Beck has gone to Sussex?”

“Yes, madam. He wishes to give you his regards.”

Caroline peeked around her aunt. “Then...”

“Then you must show him in,” her aunt said.

Garrett looked at Caroline.

“Yes. That’s what you should do,” Caroline agreed, and forced a smile. As Garrett went to fetch him, she said, “Do please forgive the intrusion.”

“Think nothing of it, Lady Caroline,” Ladley said at once. Lord Ainsley looked as if he thought something of it.

But her uncle said jovially, “It will be my pleasure to make his acquaintance. In spite of all I’ve heard.” He chortled.

When Leopold entered, he seemed surprised at the number of people assembled but was clearly practiced in collecting himself. He bowed. “I beg your pardon for the interruption.”

“Your Highness, how good of you to call after all this time,” Caroline said, and sank into a curtsy.

“Thank you. I, ah—”

“You know Lord Ladley,” she said, twirling away from him. She introduced her aunt and uncle, and Lord Ainsley, as well. When she’d finished the introductions, she turned back to him. “I regret that we were on our way out,” she said.

“Yes, perhaps we ought to be on our way,” Ladley said, offering his arm. “Supper is at nine.”

“I wish we’d known to expect you,” she said. “I could have spared you the trip here.”

“Hmm,” he said, his gaze steady on hers.

“Shall I give Beck a message when he returns?”

He smiled slowly. Her heart felt as if it was beating out of her chest.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you. But if I may intrude for one more minute before you go...might I have a word, Lady Caroline?”

“Well...” She glanced at her guests.

“I won’t take but a moment.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, and gestured for him to speak.

His brows dipped. “I had hoped for a word in private.”

“Ah. Well, as you can see...”

“Caro, darling, you should hear him,” her aunt suggested.

“Of course you must, Caro,” her uncle added. “We’ll be here when you’re done. Take all the time you need.”

Caroline shot Leopold a look. “Very well. But I won’t need long at all.”

The prince stepped to one side to allow her access to the door. She walked out of the room. She supposed Leopold followed. She was so angry and confused and annoyed that she marched down the hall to the small receiving salon near the front of the house. She walked into the room, whirled about and folded her arms.

Leopold entered behind her, quietly closed the door, and smiled. “Well. From the reception I’ve received from you and your guests, it would appear my reputation is even worse than I feared.”

“Oh, it’s quite awful,” she agreed.

“You’re cross with me about Jacleen,” he said, pushing away from the door.

Caroline gaped at him. Then she laughed. “How astute of you! I can’t believe you would utter her name out loud.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked as he slowly advanced on her, his gaze moving over her. “Her name is Jacleen Bouvan. She is a Weslorian from the mountains that border Alucia.”

Caroline frowned with confusion. Why was he telling her this? What possible reason? Had she been his lover before? Or... Why was he smiling at her? “Did you think I would find it amusing that you took a maid from her gainful employment and...” She stopped talking before she said aloud what she feared he’d done.

“No. Did you think so ill of me that you’d believe I’d find such pleasure with you, then only hours later take advantage of that poor woman?”

Did she think so poorly of him? At the moment, she didn’t want to think of him at all. But if she did think of him, she desperately wanted to think poorly of him. It helped her prepare for his inevitable departure. For his perfidy. “I don’t know, Leopold—are you really so different from any other man?”

He blinked. “I left with Miss Bouvan because she was being used by the duke for a purpose that offended me. I wanted to help her.”

Caroline was prepared to be indignant and make him understand that she knew the nature of men. But she hadn’t expected for him to say what she knew was true—Jacleen was being used. She rubbed her nape. “And, what, then the prince swooped in and saved her?”