Beck glanced around him. “Is there a rule that says guests of the palace are not allowed to sit?”
“I never understood the point of having so many fine furnishings if they’re not to be used,” Eliza said.
“Hollis,darling!”
Beck’s sister, Caroline, now Lady Chartier, as she had married Prince Sebastian’s brother, Leopold, was sailing through the many men to greet Hollis, her arms outstretched. Prince Leopold strolled along behind her.
Caroline caught Hollis’s hands and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.
“Hollis,” Prince Leopold said, and took her hand from Caroline. “I thought you’d gone missing.” He brought her hand to his lips. “You look very well, as always.” He smiled fondly.
Hollis curtsied. “Thank you, Your Highness. You are very kind to say so. And may I say that country living certainly agrees with the two ofyou.” She’d spent a lot of time with the prince and Caroline in Sussex. The Hawke family seat stood just outside the village of Bibury, and that is where Caroline, and eventually Leopold, had retreated after what everyone said was London’s greatest scandal...until some four months later when a new scandal came along to claim the title.
Hollis and Eliza called the scandal Caroline’s “courtship.”
But really, no one had believed that Caroline and Leopold would survive as much as a fortnight in the country, so far from society. The two of them separately had been the biggest prizes on guest lists for the longest time. Until they weren’t.
It was impossible to believe, but the two most unlikely people in all of Britain had settled in the country and discovered, after years of being seen at every social event, that rural life, buckskins, and animals suited them. Caroline said it was peaceful and bucolic, unlike their lives in London. Beck said that was an invented excuse, and the truth was that they still weren’t allowed in most Mayfair salons. “Scandals are slow to die,” he’d said to Hollis. “Best you not put yourself in the middle of one, darling.”
Caroline stood back to admire Hollis’s gown. “Oh, it’s lovely, isn’t it? I knew it would be. I have a very keen eye for color, you know.”
Caroline had discovered a natural talent for making gowns in the last year or so, and now, her creations were in high demand across London. She’d fashioned this one in a style that cut closer to the body, as the Alucians preferred, and with a lot of lace, as the English preferred.
“It’s awfully tight,” Hollis whispered.
“That’s notmyfault,” Caroline said.
“Hollis, here she is! My little angel,” Eliza cooed. Hollis turned back to her sister. In the sea of men behind her, one emerged, a head taller than the others. He was making his way toward them. It was Eliza’s husband, Prince Sebastian, the Duke of Tannymeade and the future king of Alucia, carrying their firstborn child and heir. He had the baby high in his arms, his smile broad and proud.
“Should he carry her like that?” Caroline asked. “Shouldn’t a nursemaid be on hand?”
“He prefers to hold her,” Eliza said. “He’s utterly besotted.”
“Aren’t we all,” Hollis said dreamily. Princess Cecelia was seven months old and looked as if she’d just awakened from a nap—her dark hair was mussed, and one of her cheeks was pinker than the other, as if she’d been lying on it. She blinked at the adults gathered in the room, staring at them all sternly as if they were a new sort of animal she was seeing for the first time. But she quickly tired of the view and lay her head on her father’s shoulder.
“Hollis!” Prince Sebastian beamed as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Would you like to hold your niece?”
“Please!” Hollis said, reaching for the baby. The little princess came willingly, but stared very suspiciously at Hollis. She had wispy dark curls, pale green eyes, and pursed, plump lips. She was all cheek and thigh, too—the sort that demanded to be squeezed with affection. “Oh, dear,” Hollis said wistfully. “I can’t possibly love her more.”
“She’s beautiful, Eliza,” Caroline agreed.
“I don’t mean to boast, but I do believe she is the most beautiful child I’ve ever seen,” Eliza said, stroking her daughter’s back.
Beck, having managed to hoist himself from his chair, wandered over to have a look at the baby. “Do you want to hold her, Uncle Beck?” Caroline asked.
“I do not. Firstly, I am not her uncle. Secondly, I held her earlier and she drooled on my shoulder. Even if I were so inclined to hold her after that unforgivable incident, her parents are so smitten they can’t bear to let her out of their grasp for more than a moment.”
Cecelia began to fuss. “Give her to me, Caro,” Eliza said.
“My case is made,” Beck drawled.
“Eliza, we are due to appear for tea,” the duke reminded her, and lifted his hand, signaling someone.
Eliza pressed her baby’s cheek to hers. “I don’t want to leave her,” she said as a woman dressed in the gray of a nursemaid came forward and curtsied.
“She’ll be well tended,” the duke assured her.
“Yes, but I don’t like being away from her, not with all this talk of rebellions and coups.”
