“Definitely not a true lady,” Lord Liddican said.
He was echoed by others. “Climbing trees like a monkey. She’s an acrobat!”
Even from her place in the tree, she could hear people’s murmurs, equating an acrobat to a whore.
“My liege!” she called out. “I would like you please to watch my skirt very closely. Or look to my legs.” It was not a hard request to make. Everyone was looking at them anyway.
She swung herself from one branch to the next, slowly coming down until she hung from the second lowest branch and dropped to the ground. She’d picked the other branch specifically because it put her between Lord Liddican and the prince.
And when she straightened up, she grinned at the prince. “Did you see my legs?”
“What?”
“Did you see my ankles or any amount of flesh?”
The prince frowned. “No, I don’t believe I did.”
“Exactly,” she said. Then she leaned forward and pulled up her skirt to reveal what would have been a long expanse of leg. Instead, she had on thick stockings that closely resembled some men’s pants. “It’s crazy to go to a picnic without appropriate covering, don’t you think? Out in the park with children? One might have to save a young child who is up a tree. Or hike up a skirt to run a footrace. Modesty requires an extra layer. I’m sure you would do the same.”
“Of course, of course!” Prinny said with great cheer.
“You weren’t wearing those at the picnic!” Lord Liddican snarled.
“Good God, man,” Lord Heath inserted. “You weren’t even there.”
“I have heard from those who were!”
And now was the moment to insert herself—bodily—between Lord Liddican and the prince.
“You seem awfully interested in my legs, Lord Liddican. And everything else about me. Why is that? Is it because I refused your insulting offer to become your mistress? Are you a man scorned because he’s unable to find a mistress the normal way?” She touched her lips. “Oh yes. You haven’t the funds to pay a woman, have you?”
The man’s eyes narrowed as he balled up his fists. But he didn’t strike her. Instead, his gaze flicked to Prinny’s. “That’s a lie!” he growled.
“No, it isn’t!” came a tremulous voice. Everyone turned to see old Mrs. Blay leaning heavily on her cane. She’d been there the night Sadie had first confronted Liddican—her and her dueling pistol. “I heard it! He wanted her as his mistress. And when she refused…” The widow brandished her cane. “I showed him what for.” Then she thumped the cane down hard in the ground before realizing she hadn’t made her curtsey to the royal. “Oh,good afternoon, Your Highness,” she said as she bent in a creaky curtsey.
“Oh bravo, my fair lady. Bravo,” drawled the prince.
“Thank you, Your Highness. But she’s not the first he’s hurt. Not by far.” She waved around her as women stepped forward, one by one.
“He tried it with me, my liege. But I wasn’t strong like her. I ran to my mother and cried for a week.”
“My aunt scared him off.”
“He tried to drag me outside, but Carolyn saved me. I didn’t leave her side for the rest of the ball.”
“That’s true. I saw it!”
“Me, too!”
It couldn’t be true. Lord Liddican could not have importuned so many women. He would be the worst Lothario in England, were that the case. But one by one, the women came forward. Until one dragged her brother forward.
“I told my brother,” she said.
“She did,” her brother confirmed. Then he shook his head. “Bad enough the man cheats at cards and won’t pay his debts, but to think he can touch my sister?” He shuddered. “That was beyond the pale.”
“I pay my debts!” Lord Liddican bellowed.
“No,” Lord Heath said quietly. “You sell your votes for money, betraying England and the crown each time.”
