I’d become Kitty Clarke’s project. There was no better way to describe it. Milliners and drapers and mantua-makers had me arrayed in fine silks and laces. I turned and glanced at the silhouette I cast on the inn’s whitewashed wall. The rooms at the George were big. Mr. King had them save the best for me. His gift for being his successful partner in the West Indies.
That was true, but it was also an indication of the money I’d made him. Men do end up making more. I wondered if I’d have a chance to best that, since my being with the prince proved power and I could be bedmates. Happy ones. Happy ones at sea. William’s pa had recovered and except for two nightly strolls in a garden at a big old place called Kensington, I hadn’t seen my prince. He loved his walks.
Kitty sipped chamomile tea. My half-drunk cup was blended with Mamaí’s herbs. These were for my nerves.
“You look fine, Dorothy. The prince will not be able to leave you again.”
Men and leaving were too common for me. I concentrated on the yellowish-white satin gown that was delivered. The color reminded me of the flesh of a Montserratan governor’s plum picked too soon. That wasn’t me. Or maybe it was . . . This was my time to bloom and to be soft and smooth, sculpted into a Georgian lady of fashion. I twirled again and watched my hem float around my bare ankles. “Kitty, I’m an advertisement in your papers.”
She settled in a chair. “When William sees you, he must make you an offer like he’d do any woman here.”
My face may have held a smile but my insides twisted, dangling like an iguana about to fall through a roof hole. I sipped my tea. The bitter herbs reminded me of the last time I was a formal concubine to a man who had more power than I. Cells and I didn’t last. Why would William and I fare better? “Let’s talk of dinner. I’m partial to beefsteak.”
“Dorothy, you must consider it.”
“The prince and I have a friendship, and I have dreams, Kitty. The things you’ve shown me, I can take back to Roseau and make a larger fortune.”
She frowned with such sourness, I thought we’d swapped teas.
“Dolly, you’re in a unique position. I’ve never seen the prince so taken.”
I hid my doubts behind my mother’s smile. I didn’t know what I wanted. Living in London wasn’t my dream, was it? But knowing he needed me and that a prince respected me—that did something to my heart.
Finishing my cup, I smoothed my sleeves, wafting the lace at my cuff. “I do like the finery one buys here.”
“Dorothy, you can have all that and more.”
“What of my children? I can’t be away much longer.”
“Bring them. They can be educated here. More mixed-race children are coming for schooling. It could be a new start for everyone.”
My head hurt thinking of this. I wrapped my arms about my skull. “No more.”
Her giddy grin made me forgive her.
“Shall we dine below, Dorothy?”
Packed with people, the dining room called the Coffee Room would be noisy.
“No. I’d rather send down.” I raised my arms, trussed up in silks and satins. “But I should eat very little, if I’m to wear all these gowns your mantua-makers have designed.”
“It’s good you’ve brought a fortune with you. A rich mistress or benefactor is an enjoyable thing.”
All the clothes and fabrics and silver buttons and shoes I’d purchased for myself and for my family would bankrupt another. It would take at least a quarter to half of a year to earn the four hundred pounds I’d spent.
These gifts stated that I and my family were worth it. We were.
“You’re a friend, Kitty. Not sure if you’re meant for good or temptation.”
“Temptation, my dear, always temptation.”
A servant knocked on the door. I lifted from my chair. “Yes.”
“I’m looking for a nymph who crossed the sea on the Andromeda.” The easy masculine voice was William’s.
I threw open the door and the prince charged in. He lifted me high in his arms and kissed me before I could say hello.
Kitty’s jasmine perfume passed beside me. “Nice to see you, Prince William. Dorothy, I’ll be in my room.” She left, closing the door with a solid thud.
William eased my feet to the floor then teased my neck, touching the arch he’d learned to tame. “I’ve missed you.”
I stepped away, smoothing my gown of the wrinkles he’d made. “William, how is your father?”
The hands reaching for me dropped to his side. He’d snapped to attention. “Better. The physicians say a full recovery will happen. He’s sane. Perfectly sane again.”
My breath eased. “My prayers are answered. Hope that you don’t mind Catholic ones.”
“Not at all. I’m glad—” He took my palm in his. “You think a person is doomed by their lineage?”
“What?”
“Dorothy, do you think a person is destined to be like their parents, their mother and father?”
“My mother’s my hero. She did everything for me and my sister. I hope to be a tenth of her.”
My voice trailed off, not voicing anything of my pa. He loved us the best he could, but it wasn’t enough. Yet, here I was leaving my family, my children, just like he did.
William clasped his arm and rubbed at the wrist. “My father almost went mad. Many say I’m lost. I’m given to the worst risks. Carrying you here . . . many think I am lost.”
The shadows he couldn’t outrun tangled with mine. They were too big, too powerful for a young prince and an island woman with unfulfilled dreams. “William.” I nudged his chin with my knuckle. “You are strong. You’ll best the naysayers.”
“You think this, Dorothy?”
“I know so. Remember it when I leave.”
“No. You’ve just arrived. I’ve been too busy—”
“We’ve had a lovely time. I’ll treasure it.” I had to say good-bye first. I wasn’t going to be the thing faulted as what ruined him, and he couldn’t be the reason I stopped chasing my dreams.
His lips pressed to a line, then he nodded accepting my final truth.
I clasped his shoulders at the blue sash that anchored him. “You have control, William. You’re sane. Temper your drink. Limit things to the best champagne, and you’ll have no more troubles.”
He looked at me, maybe through me. Maybe he saw the pain I tried to hide. I wasn’t fine leaving what was between us.
His thumb twisted one of my curls. He drew me close. “I’d hoped to rely upon you as my guide, my muse.”
Four months away helped me regain my strength, but I couldn’t be a wick for someone else’s candle. I was flame. I had to remember that. “You’re a survivor, William. So am I.”
I slipped beneath his jacket to be next to the soft silk of his waistcoat.
His hold tightened and his mouth sampled the arch of my neck. “You smell of coconut and nutmeg, a hint of sweet sage—a perfect nosegay for me.”
He collected me in his arms. “You’re not leaving me tonight. I’m not thinking of tomorrow.”
I spun in arms that wanted me. This was the dance I was made for, him circling me, stripping away my new silks, satins, and doubts.
Warming each other in the slow allemande we’d agreed upon, a prince of England and an island queen found the perfect embrace.
One moment we were upright, kissing like fools, the next the world went topsy-turvy. The humming of our bodies—the giving and receiving of love—was in my ears, drilling into my heart, tying our souls in an everlasting knot.
I sheltered in his arms. He buried himself in my embrace. I was his safe harbor. He was mine too.
In my heart, I’d keep this peace. William was woven into the fabric of my lids. Tomorrow and every day forward, I’d forever see him in those moments of weakness, knowing his love was the path not chosen.