“But will you pay her? Now that she is to beour aunt?” asked Imogene.
“Curtsy to the princess,” snapped Lachlan. He corrected his own posture and dipped his head in a respectful bow. “Your Highness. It is an honor to welcome you to my home.”
“Like this,” Drew was whispering, dropping into a curtsy.
The girls hovered for a moment, staring at the princess, and then wobbled into uneasy curtsies.
Drew stole a look at her stepsister. Cynde watched it all with barely concealed delight. She clasped her hands together as if someone had just presented her with a kitten.
“The pleasure is mine,” said Cynde. “I do beg your pardon for this unscheduled call, but I’d hoped to have a private word with Miss Trelayne? As soon as you can spare her.”
Drew glanced at Lachlan. He shrugged. The twins stared expectantly at the adults, as if trying to predict who would deliver the next bit of shocking news.
“Girls?” called Drew. “Can we give you the job of relaying all we’ve discussed here to your mother?”
“But mother does not know?” asked Ivy.
“She does not know,” said Lachlan, “and you’ve just been given the esteemed job of telling her. Congratulations. However, do not discuss it with anyone else, if you please. Miss Trelayne and I will tell the staff. Beyond that, I would ask you, as your uncle and your guardian,notto gossip about it. As tempting as it is. Can you give me your word?”
“Yes,” said Ivy in the same moment that Imogene said, “Depends.”
“Go,” Lachlan sighed, and the girls darted up the path, nearly trampling the princess.
“Curtsy again! Ask to be excus—” Drew called, but they had already gone.
“Highness,” said Lachlan, bowing again. “You’ve come alone?”
“I have,” said Cynde, eyeing him up and down. “Adolphus would see you, Your Grace, as soon as you are able. He expects you to attend him at Kew, I believe.”
“Of this I have no doubt,” drawled Lachlan. “Can I impose upon you to beg patience on my behalf? We are a bit overwhelmed at the moment.”
“So I gather,” said Cynde. “I’ll tell him. In the meantime, I would speak to my sister.”
“Indeed,” said Lachlan, bowing again. He began to back away. “She could use a dash of sisterly encouragement, after that lot.” He nodded in the direction the twins.
“If you’ll excuse me,” said Lachlan, and he was gone.
Drew collapsed onto the edge of the fountain. “Oh, Cynde. Oh, Cynde.Oh, Cynde.” She dropped her face in her hands.
“Are you hurt, Drewsmina?” asked Cynde cautiously, her voice deeply concerned.
Drew shook her head, not looking up.
“Are you afraid?”
Drew thought about this. She nodded.
“Of the duke?” guessed Cynde.
She shook her head. She felt Cynde plop down beside her. Silk billowed like the froth of a yellow wave.
“I can’t believe you’ve come,” said Drew, sliding her hands into a steeple against her mouth. She looked at her smiling sunbeam of a stepsister.
“Nonsense,” said Cynde. “Of course I’ve come. Adolphus and I were exceedingly concerned. Can you say what’s happened? We’ve read your note at least a dozen times. I don’t understand.”
It was a short sordid tale, not unlike the short sordid tale she’d spilled to Cynde after her first (and only) beau, James, was posted to India. Then and now, Drew had been confused and frightened; and then and now, Cynde had been thoughtful and gracious and encouraging.
Before Cynde had managed to marry a prince, her role in the family had been Resented Interloper, a step up from a serving girl. When she managed, miraculously, to escape them all and marry into the royal family, Cynde suffered the added regard of jealous disdain. And none of them had been more bitter, perhaps, than Drew.
