“Am I?” Hollis asked dubiously.
Cecelia was fascinated by Jack, who was having a thorough sniff of her. Cecelia tried to grab his fur, but Jack darted out of her reach. Eliza dropped onto the settee next to Caroline. “It’s good to be home,” she said, and sighed with contentment.
“Where isyour husband?” Caroline asked. “Mine’s gone round to the club with my brother. I told Beck it was a terrible idea, but he shooed me away and told me to think about my saplings if that’s what’s kept me from London.”
“Your what?” Eliza asked.
“Mysaplings.Leopold and I are both loath to leave them.”
“What does that mean?” Eliza asked. “Is that a euphemism for dogs? Children?” She gasped. “Caro, have you brought a child into this world and not told us?”
“I have broughttreesinto this world and they require care.”
John stood and stretched, then ambled over to join Jack in his examination of Cecelia. The baby gurgled with delight then toppled over onto her side. Poppy righted her, and this time, Cecelia managed to grab a fistful of Jack’s fur. Now, here came Pris, his tail swishing, signaling that he was miffed to have been left out of the fun. With his tail high, he rubbed up against Cecelia’s chubby leg.
“Pappa, did you hear? Your oldest child has taken tea with thequeen,” Hollis said.
“I have indeed heard.” His fingers were flying along with the yarn as he churned out another long panel of knitting. “Mr. Frink read the account to me as it was written in the most excellentHoneycutt Gazette.”
The judge had been very vocal about not wanting Hollis to continue with the gazette after Percy passed away. But in the last few months, he’d admitted his admiration for her. “You’ve done what I never thought a woman in your position could do, Hollis. I’m very proud of my girl.” It was true that the circulation of her gazette was quite good. Better than the legal gazette her father took once monthly, and far better than Percy ever managed to achieve with his gazette of politics and economics.
“I have also heard from Mr. Frink that the Weslorian king looks unwell. Is that true?”
“He looked well to me,” Eliza said. “A bit worried, perhaps, but then again, everyone is. He’s a slight man. Even his wife is taller. He has a thin moustache, long sideburns, and he keeps his hair combed neatly to one side, as is the fashion.”
“How curious his hair, isn’t it?” Caroline said.
“Why?” Hollis asked. She stepped up on the ladder that was always set up in the room near the bookshelves. It had occurred to her that there was a book about the Bow Street Runners, the lawmen who had preceded the Metropolitan Police Force. She thought the book might be useful to her interests now, perhaps holding information about how one went about solving a crime. Not that she had a crime to solve, exactly. Not yet, anyway.
“And his daughters have the same affliction.”
“Affliction?” Hollis repeated, glancing over her shoulder at Caroline.
“You didn’t notice?” Caroline slid down on the floor to join Cecelia and Poppy.
“Oh, that,” Eliza said. “I’ve heard it’s not uncommon in certain families.”
“What’s not uncommon? What hair?” Hollis asked again.
“The streak of white,” Caroline said, and gestured loosely at her temple.
“King Maksim’s hair has a rather long streak of white, Pappa,” Eliza said. “It’s quite noticeable, really. It’s as if an artist was painting a portrait and forgot to dash on a bit of color to fill in the hair. Very odd.”
“His daughters have the same peculiarity,” Caroline said. She lifted Cecelia up to her mother. “The oldest one, she has hair as dark as Hollis, and a thin strip of white, just at the front of her hair. The younger one has it, too, but her hair is fair and it’s less noticeable.”
Hollis was slightly alarmed that she could miss such an important detail. She’d read something about a streak of white in hair, but at the moment, couldn’t recall where.
“I like Princess Justine,” Caroline said. “She’s an accomplished fencer.”
“Really?” Eliza asked, looking up from her daughter. “How do you know?”
“She told me! I can’t sit beside another woman in the retiring room and not at least speak to her. The princess and I had a lovely chat. She has the most beautiful eyes, have you noticed? More gold than brown, really, like her father, the king. He’s a curious one. Have you ever seen another gentleman more full of nerves?” Caroline asked. She came to her feet. “I even said to Leopold, what could make a man so jittery? He said too much drink could make a man jittery.”
“He’s a bag of nerves because he’s here, in London, gliding across a pond like a goose with hunters all around him,” Hollis said.
“Pardon?” her father asked.
“Hollis, darling, not again,” Eliza said sweetly.
