“The Marquis of Kendrick needs to precede you, my lord,” the majordomo said to Tisdale.
“But I am escorting my betrothed—”
A look of confusion crossed the other man’s face before Caroline smiled sweetly and spoke.
“I have not made that decision,” Caroline said, “and I daresay you are holding up the line, my lord.”
The majordomo looked relieved and turned to the earl. “As there is not another marquis present, you may take the next place in line.”
Stephan saw Caroline’s lips twitch as they moved forward. He reached across to tuck her hand more firmly inside his elbow and, to his surprise, she gave his arm a squeeze. He felt the same sense of conspiracy he did when his pirates had a successful raid. The gesture had been personal, not done for show.
If the prince was surprised to see Stephan escorting Caroline instead of the earl, he didn’t show it. Tisdale looked a little less petulant when he saw that his place card was on the other side of Caroline, although Stephan thought he heard her sigh.
Stephan understood that a certain amount of protocol was expected, even necessary, given that Tisdale had the prince’s blessing for a marriage to Caroline and Stephan was the challenger, who was probably only seated in this spot because of one of Prinny’s whims. He therefore acted the part of a proper lord throughout the long, drawn-out meal that included numerous courses of more than forty dishes, from pheasant soup to fruit compotes, and a variety of entrees, including Turbot in lobster sauce, mint-jellied mutton, and roasted boar, all serveda la russe. There had to be at least eighteen waiters carrying individual dishes to the thirty-some guests assembled.
Caroline began to look drained halfway through the elaborate meal. From what Brice had told him and from what he’d already observed, Stephan doubted Caroline liked being formal and proper any more than he did. And, to make it worse, she had to be pleasant to Tisdale, given their seats were directly across from the prince regent. Stephan was sorely tempted to put his hand under the table and give Caroline an encouraging pat, but her leg was the closest thing he could reach, and she could hardly be expected not to react to having her thigh fondled. The thought made his cock stir, though, and Stephan reached for his wineglass. The prince was already studying him too intently.
Caroline looked as though she’d been thrown a life preserver in a choppy sea when Prinny finally announced that the ladies might retire to the gallery room while the men lingered with their port. Although Stephan suspected that on another occasion, Caroline might argue that she’d enjoy a glass of port as well, tonight she meekly left with the rest of the women. That is, ifmeekwere the right word for one who was leading the way out, marching like a general.
“I had hoped to serve fine French cognac,” Prinny said after the ladies left and the port had been poured, “but it seems the latest shipment has found its way into the hands of pirates harrowing our coast.”
“The bottles wereA de Fussigny,” Tisdale said. “From the latest, most talked-of cognac house in France.”
Stephan’s friend Pierre Girard had said as much. In fact, the export of several cases of the new brand had been what caught his attention on the bills of lading. Stephan hoped the common folk were enjoying it.
The prince looked disgruntled. “I heard the aroma is splendid.”
Tisdale gave them all a smug smile. “Yes, the proximity to the Charente River provides the right amount of dampness in the cellars to age the casks perfectly. I am so sorry the shipment was lost to thieves.”
“Yes,” the prince answered, “it seems these criminals may be locally recruited.” His glanced around the room. “No reports of unauthorized foreign ships of any size have been reported.”
Tisdale slanted a look toward Stephan. “Your estates include a fishing fleet, do they not?”
Stephan levied a steady gaze on the earl. “They do. Why do you ask?”
Tisdale lifted one shoulder slightly. “I thought perhaps one of your crews might have seen something.”
“There is a lot of open water between the northern shore of Kent and the entrance to the Thames,” Stephan replied.
“But your boats go out from dawn to dusk,” Tisdale said, “and the report I received about my stolen shipment mentioned the pirates approached using small skiffs. Surely that kind of flotilla would be spotted.”
“There are hundreds of small craft plying the sea every day.” Stephan sharpened his gaze. “Are you suggesting I have some knowledge of this incident?”
“No, of course not,” Prinny interjected quickly. “Lord Tisdale is simply inquiring.”
“Inquiring….” The earl must have recognized something in the prince regent’s voice because he nodded. “Yes. Simply making an inquiry.”
“Good.” Stephan kept his voice neutral. “I would hope the earl would not stoop so low as to accuse me of criminal endeavors simply because we are vying for the hand of Miss Caroline Nash. How utterly ignoble of him that would be.”
Tisdale’s face turned an odd shade of purple. “You are an interloper. An agreement has already been reached.”
“Between you and Sir Reginald. Miss Nash has not agreed to anything.” Stephan turned to the prince. “In this modern time, should a woman—or a man, for that matter—not have the right to make a choice?”
For once, Prinny looked uncomfortable. Stephan sincerely hoped the prince was remembering that his own private marriage to Mrs. Fitzherbert had not been recognized by the church and he’d been obligated to marry a cousin he didn’t like.
“Perhaps I—”
“You gave your approval,” Tisdale protested.
