“It was just a bit of theater,” he protested, straightening. “You’d already left. You said she was allowed to attend. I merely attended to her attending.”
“You ferried her without a chaperone—without my knowledge. Without a modicum of sense!” Ever attuned to my emotions, Lucy tightened her talons on the glove. “And how? Was it a plan all along?”
He twisted his beard. “We improvised! She altered her dress with pins, and I worked on the carriage.”
“And where did the horses come from?”
Moussa gestured over at Lucky, who was munching clover under an apple tree. “And Arno, too. I used wig powder and wheat starch. Enough until they shone in the moonlight.”
I felt the beginning of a throbbing in my temples. “Do not mistake a bit of cider and a place to sleep as an invitation to involve yourself in such ways.”
“She’d perfected her minuet just so.” He dropped his eyes and gestured at his carriage. “Do not worry. I am leaving this day.”
“Yes,” I told him, already turning to take Lucy back to the mews. “Best not to linger.”
A short while later, when I heard—then saw—the royal carriage through the window, I allowed myself the briefest moment of hope. One cannot help but wonder if a congealed romantic interest may change their mind. Perhaps, I reasoned, Simeon had come for Rosamund after all. Perhaps he had worried over her sudden departure. Perhaps absence does impact the heart, or at least draw its spotlight. But when the prince emerged from the open mouth of his coach, his first words were: “You did not tell me there was another sister!”
I had come outside alone to receive him, hastily untying my apron and storing it behind a tapestry, doing my best to smooth my hair and cover a housedress with a more elegant mantle I placed over my shoulders. I had no idea of the state of the rooms inside, though I could say with certainty none was fit to entertain a prince.
“We cannot keep track of ourselves,” I said, from the depths of my curtsy. When I rose, I saw that Simeon was still in his clothing from the ball. He couldn’t have slept, I realized, if he was arriving at our home so early.
“Lady Elin lives here.” He eyed the house behind me.
“Welcome to Bramley Hall,” I confirmed, and watched, in surprise, as Otto climbed through the door behind him, like a spider I couldn’t rid myself of. He nodded at me without meeting my eyes and my breakfast soured in my stomach.Not suitable.Of course he had come. Of course he stood at Prince Simeon’s side. Of course the loyal bloodhound was the only one wearing a smart set of clean clothes.
I realized the prince was waiting for me to speak.
“Elin is inside and, I apologize, but still abed,” I explained. “She has not finished her toilette.”
“I’ll wait for her,” the prince said, gesturing vaguely toward the house.
“Wait?” I repeated. Otto watched me, expressionless.
“Yes. I will wait until she has finished her toilette,” he explained, gently, as though talking to a child. And indeed, I did feel a bit stupefied.
“We are honored by your visit… Your Royal Highness.” I was delaying the inevitable.
Simeon kicked a pebble with the toe of his boot. “Perhaps you will let her know?”
Otto cleared his throat.
“Of course.” I nodded. “I’ll let her know at once.”
Inside, Wenthelen and Alice were huddled in the entryway, trying to watch through the crack of the door.
“Shoo,” I told them.
“He asked to see Elin,” Wenthelen whispered, delighted. She turned from the door and stayed close at my heels. “Our Elin!”
“What happened at that ball?” Alice demanded, stepping in front of me. They had not yet heard us recount the whole story—but they had been kept up half the night by Rosie’s incessant weeping.
“I do not believe for one minute that you didn’t help Elin ready last night.” I glared at both of them, looking up at Alice and then down at Wenthelen. “So you know very well that Elin managed to come after all.”
“Of course we helped her. What else would we do!” Wenthelen tutted at me and went back to the door.
Alice frowned. “The girl deserves the same chances as her sisters.”
“She has more chances—” I began.
