Page 64 of Her Royal Houseguest

‘We will see it all set to rights,’ the duchess said. ‘Go speak with the servants, Anna. I’m sure they’ll listen to you now.’

Doubtful. ‘Actually, I have asked Lady Anna to do a service for me. I have left some things for her to review in her parlour.’

‘But—’ began Anna.

‘Please,’ he said. And did she know how rare it was for a prince of Siam to say that word?

Apparently so because after a moment’s hesitation, she dipped her chin. ‘Of course, Your Royal Highness.’ Then she nodded to her mother and departed, leaving him to manage her mother.

Deva smiled as he watched Anna leave, pleased that she would leave this task to him. He had grown up learning the flow of authority in the harem and then again in the palace when he came of age. Seeing the power structure in this household was nothing. He would be able to correct it with a single conversation with the duke.

But first he had to deal with the lady of the household. He turned to the duchess, his brow raised. She looked like she wanted to say something caustic but didn’t dare in the face of his arrogant expression. Instead, she sketched a short curtsey.

‘Very well, Prince Deva. Is there anything more you require this morning?’

‘Nothing except the schedule of parties for the rest of the week.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I require an assistant to help me through the invitations. There have been many. My brother has been helping but we must know the events that you and Lady Anna will attend. I know she hopes to go to the theatre. Therefore, I require your schedule.’

‘I— Well, as to that…’ She frowned. ‘I will let Anna know your needs.’

‘Thank you. You may leave.’

He did not bow to her in the English way. Instead, he stood there as a Siamese prince, his brow arched as he looked down upon her. She was a woman who gave all her work to her daughter, idled away her life in the pursuit of gossip and complained bitterly to others about her misfortunates. He had no respect for her, so he dismissed her as he would an underling. That clearly insulted her and she sniffed with audible fury before leaving.

He enjoyed himself a moment more, relishing the sunlight and the memories of Lady Anna, flushed with excitement. But in the end, he had to face his day. He was able to have his discussion with the duke that afternoon with equally satisfying results.

It was during cigars at the man’s club. Deva had not learned to appreciate the rolled tobacco the English enjoyed. He barely tolerated the hookas at home. Nevertheless, he knew how to hold a conversation as if the unlit cigar in his hand was a delight. Which meant allowing the duke to go first.

‘I heard about the dust-up this morning,’ the man muttered. ‘Can’t imagine what’s gotten into Stanier. I’ll have a word with Anna and see that everything is managed to your satisfaction.’

‘Is it the custom of the English to leave management of the household to one’s daughter?’

‘Well, to the women,’ the duke said. ‘We’ve got the country to run, you know.’

‘And is it customary for the youngest person in the household to do all the work? Is she expected to bribe your servants when they are already paid a wage?’

‘What? Of course not!’

‘Ah, that is what I thought. Allow me to tell you a tale of a man in my father’s court. He was so desperately in love with his wife that he could not see she was too tender-hearted to take care of his home.’

And so he began. Storytelling was a valued skill in Siam and anyone who could shape a story to enchant was a frequent guest at meals. He was allowed into places he should not be merely because he offered entertainment. Deva had learned this skill and was well versed in telling a tale about someone else, only to point out the similarities in his audience’s home.

A woman too tender-hearted to get rid of old servants. A man too in love with his wife to see her faults. And when it came time to impress a royal guest, the household fell into hilarious disarray. He began with bad food, no water and dirty clothes. Simple problems, easily overlooked. But then one tiny disaster grew, compounded by others, until his entire audience was holding their sides with laughter. The duke chortled along with everyone else until Deva finished his tale with the image of the king of Siam himself waiting for water with which to wash his feet. Worse, the elephant on which he’d arrived had no servant to contain its wandering through the man’s home like a drunk beast.

And all because a woman was too soft-hearted to retire aging servants and the man too in love with his wife to see her fault.

The duke was no fool. He understood the message. His gaze was dark and troubled, even as he smiled at a tale that cast him as a love-blinded fool.

Now, all Deva had to do was sit back and watch how the duke reacted. Did he investigate the tale, discover what was true and false in his own home? Or did he take the expedient path and simply get rid of the offending servants? That would tell him about the man and, by extension, more about England.

‘I think,’ the duke grumbled, ‘that I shall have a word with my servants.’

‘That is very wise of you. And since you are so clear-sighted, I would ask that you advise me.’

‘Of course, Prince Deva. What do you need?’