Chapter One
Drewsmina Trelayne’s Rule of Style and Comportment #17: Never be carried away by one-sided conversations. Friends may not articulate boredom or shock, but prolonged silences speak for themselves. Babbling is for fountains or infants, not ladies.
Drewsmina Trelayne’s Rule of Style and Comportment #31: Live animals make terrible gifts.
Kew Palace
Richmond Upon Thames
October 1818
The antechamber to the Throne Room at Kew Palace was crowded that day, and Drewsmina Trelayne took stock.
To her right, a stern-faced woman in starched wool and a black cape. She stood close to the door and clutched a bulging satchel. A charity crusader, Drew guessed.
To her left, a military man in dress uniform and his fidgety aide-de-camp.
Near the window stood three nuns with a huddle of boys, likely orphans, or a choir, or an orphan choir.
Milling somewhere in the middle were two men ofacademic bent; one bearing a spinning piece of scientific equipment and the other a taxidermized specimen of a mouse.
There was also the elderly couple with the birdcage; and a rouged woman (opera singer or similar?), her maid, and two small dogs.
Finally, in the shadowy corner slouched a lone man. Tall, face averted, motionless, possibly asleep.
And then there was Drew herself, front and center, an enterprising young Woman of Business, on the cusp of both Enterprise and Business.
Inventorying the other callers had taken up all of five minutes. Drew was bored but also anxious. It was not her first time to the palace.
Drew’s stepsister, Cynde, was married to Prince Adolphus, son of King George III. Although Adolphus was the king’s seventh son and tenth in line for the throne, he was a prince nonetheless. As such, he and Cynde made their home in Kew Palace. Typically, when Drew called on her stepsister, she was received in Cynde’s opulent private chambers.
The Throne Room, in contrast, was where the royal couple granted audiences to supplicants, charities, and petitioners, and Drew was here because today was not a social call. Today was business, the day Drew would be introduced to the new client who would change her life.
If said client turned up.
And if he could be persuaded.
If everything went exactly, perfectly according to the plan.
This plan, which until today existed only in theory, had been thrust into reality when Drew received a hasty note from Cynde last night.
Throne Room tomorrow, Drew. Can you please come? Arrive early and bide your time in the antechamber with the other callers (apologies—but the wait will be worth it, I hope!).
An old friend of Adolphus’s is meant to call. He’s in desperate need of help with twin girls in advance of their first Season. He’s called the Duke of Lachlan, very rich, but rather bumpkin-y or reclusive or socially inept or some such . . . cannot say for certain. He’s Cornish? Almost Cornish? Something to do with Cornwall?
But did I mention: twins! That’s two girls on whom you may work your magic, so come prepared to charm and convince, etc., etc. Follow my lead, alright?
Hoping this is the opportunity for which we’ve waited.
The note had made Drew a little breathless, and she was generally in full control of her breathing. Drew had been biding her time, waiting for exactly this sort of introduction for the better part of a year. The note had made her so hopeful, she sought out her brother-in-law, the tedious Lord Madewood, to ask him what he might know of a “nearly Cornish Duke of Lachlan.”
Madewood had welcomed her inquiry with his usual creepy aplomb; inviting her to his dark library, sprawling on a settee to pontificate for a half hour. In the end, the theatrics had been worth it. She’d learned that there was, indeed, a Duke of Lachlan. The dukedom was in Dorchester, very near to the Dorset coast. Three years ago, the duke had been at the center of a scandal that consumed the country. He’d shown promise in the House of Lords before the scandal but had since retreated to the ducal estate and hadn’t been heard from since.
“But what of twin daughters?” Drew had probed. “Girls he might wish to bring to London and launch into society?”
“Daughters?” Madewood had repeated speculatively. “I cannot say. His family was not discussed in the papers. Marrying off daughters would be very ambitious, indeed. No young woman, and especially no debutante, would benefitfrom association with such a recent controversy. I don’t care if her father is a duke.”
“Did the scandal involve some... indecency?” Drew ventured.
