Chapter Four

“Don’t be angry. Come sit with me.” Carnelia patted the brocade divan and smiled. Her wheedling tone inspired both exasperation and affection in Lily’s heart. Somehow, she always crumbled under Carnelia’s charm, for the princess was incredibly charming despite her flaws.

Lily put down the jewelry box and crossed the room to sit with her mistress. She waited for Carnelia to confide in her as she always did. Usually, she rather enjoyed hearing about the princess’s dalliances, experiencing romance vicariously through her, but she’d avoided a heart-to-heart since the incident in the garden. She couldn’t bear to hear about Carnelia’s private moments with Kier Rohann—how he’d touched her face, how his hands had been warm against her back, and his kisses soft and lingering.

“Lily-bird”—Carnelia used the pet name from their girlhood—“I know you’re upset about my tryst with Rohann. If anyone found out, it would ruin my reputation, and heaven knows what Father would do to him.”

“So you won’t see him again?”

Carnelia traced the floral pattern in her skirt. The laughter that always shimmered in her eyes had drained, leaving her expression flat and hard. “After Father arrived home yesterday, he told me that during the summit with King Pieter, they decided to heal the breach between Winbarrow and Scaraband by forging an alliance. I think you can guess how that alliance would be sealed.”

“Marriage. But isn’t the prince very young?”

“Not the son, the father, whose wife died several years ago.”

“King Pieter? But he must be nearly seventy.”

“I always knew the day would come when I’d become a sacrificial lamb on the marriage altar.” Carnelia laughed mirthlessly. “I just didn’t imagine it would be to such an old goat. But my time of freedom is nearly over. That’s why I’ve been behaving so shamelessly this past year, trying to squeeze every bit of pleasure from life before I’m no longer free to do so. I want a few more heated moments before I become queen of a frigid country with an ice-cold man for a husband. They say summer in Scaraband is nearly as cold as winter here.”

Lily’s mind fluttered like a flock of birds trying to decide where to roost. She was torn between feeling sympathy for her beloved mistress and shock over the enormous change this would make in her own life.

“Lily, you will come with me, won’t you? I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t.” Carnelia reached out to grasp her hand, her voice so desperate it made Lily’s heart ache.

She gave Carnelia’s slender hand a comforting squeeze. “Of course, I’ll go with you. I wouldn’t leave you to face this alone.”

“You’ve always been there for me since we were children. I would understand if you didn’t wish to go to Scaraband, but, oh, how dreadfully I’d miss your company.”

“Your mother gave me a home here at court despite the circumstances of my birth. I owe everything to her and to you, my lady.” Lily smiled. “Besides, no one else could possibly put up with you as I do. I’m quite indispensable.”

“Yes, you are.” Carnelia’s smile shimmered again. “That’s why I’m relying on you to do one tiny thing for me. Mr. Rohann will be leaving soon, and I’d like a last opportunity to meet him in private before he goes. Before I have to go. Would you deliver another note?”

“Oh, dear. What am I to do with you?” Lily sighed.

“Help me. I expect.”

“This reminds me far too much of the time you insisted we steal Lady Carroll’s musty old wig from her chamber while she slept. You called it a lark. I called it trouble, and it cost us separation from each other for a month.”

Carnelia’s laughter pealed like bells. “Lady Carroll needed to be divested of that horrid, unsightly bird’s nest she insisted on wearing. We did her a favor by burning it.”

That hadn’t been the only caper Carnelia had planned that had gone awry, but the princess had never realized the results of her escapades had often fallen harder on Lily’s shoulders. Mrs. Ludlow, the princess’s governess and surrogate mother after the queen’s death, had chastised Lily, reminding her of her duty.

“Our princess requires our devotion but also our guidance on occasion. Lily, you are not her equal so can never truly be her friend, but you may serve her to the best of your abilities. Sometimes, that means refusing her whims.”

She should be telling Carnelia “no” right now, but Lily was helpless against the princess’s plea for one last bit of pleasure before giving herself to an old man.

“Write the note, and I’ll deliver it to Mr. Rohann. But please, let this be the last time.”

And let this be the last time she must act in the excruciating role of carrier pigeon between the princess and the one man who made Lily’s body vibrate with desire.

****

When Rohann opened the door to his bedchamber to find the formidable Miss Nightingale standing in the hallway, he wanted to shut the door in her face. She was more like a hawk than a songbird, or perhaps like a little peahen ferociously guarding its nest from a predatory fox.

“May I help you, Miss Nightingale?” He leaned against the doorframe, a picture of ease.

The little terror scowled. “I’m here on the princess’s behalf. I wish you’d heeded my advice and ended this dalliance, but instead you’ve enflamed her, and she wishes to meet again.” She thrust at him a note like the one he’d burned.

He accepted it and tapped it against his palm. “If you’re so averse to our meeting, why do you continue to aid the princess?”

“She insists on seeing you with or without my help. It’s safer if I facilitate the matter.”

Rohann had been so shocked at seeing Albert Grayson after all these years that he’d nearly forgotten about the princess’s flirtation. He hadn’t slept last night as he’d tried to construct some sort of revenge plan. He was no longer interested in the enchanting princess. The wrongs of the past drew thick around him like ghosts, and he could only dispel them through vengeance.

He held out the note to Lily. “Return this to your mistress. Tell her I’ve come to my senses, and I won’t meet her again.”

“But she’s expecting you. You must.”

“Woman, make up your mind! First you warn me away. Now you’re telling me I should go to her?”

She swallowed, and he saw a flash of pain in her unguarded expression. “It’s complicated. I know this is a terrible idea, but my mistress has her heart set on it. I can’t disappoint her.”

“Well, I can.” He was sick of the childish, note-passing romantic intrigue. He had much more serious matters to consider. “Tell her I will not come.” He pushed the note at Lily again, and she reluctantly accepted it. “Why do you care so much about a woman who’s only your employer when all’s said and done?”

“She is much more than that to me.”

Rosalyn used to take a certain tone when she spoke of the upper class, as if they were godlike beings and she’d give anything to be part of their pantheon. Her admiration had been her downfall. This little bird needed to see the princess with clear eyes.

“Like a sister, is she? But one who controls your life. You’re her servant, and that’s all you’ll ever be. People like us owe nothing to the likes of them.”

“People like us? You don’t know anything about me or my life.” Lily turned in a whirl of brown skirts and marched down the corridor.

Rohann watched her stalk around the corner, then retreated into his room. An unsettling sense of impending doom shrouded him. He should leave the palace before something bad happened. Forget Grayson and revenge. His own foul mood was sure to get him into trouble. A joke too obvious, a caricature too pointed—his show was rife with opportunities to anger the nobility. And the way he felt tonight, he couldn’t help but push too far.