“You don’t need to spend money on me,” Sophie said. “My sister is married to William Sandine. I can get bucketloads of money.”
“I don’t have to—I want to.” Charlotte grinned and turned to Jack. “Would you like to help?”
The expression on his face underwent a lightning change, from surprise, to fear, to a bored, distant expression. “I suppose,” he said, and yawned. “If I’m bored.”
“That’s his nonchalant expression,” Sophie said. “He puts it on when he doesn’t know how to respond.”
“Are you on good terms with the Duchess of the Southern Provinces?” Charlotte asked. Declan’s mother was precisely the kind of heavy hitter who would make a decisive difference in their entrance to society.
“I’m adored,” Jack said.
Sophie snorted.
Jack glanced at her, indignant. “That’s what she always says.” He slipped into a perfect imitation of a highborn blueblood accent. “‘Oh, Jack. I adore you, you silly boy.’”
Charlotte lost it and laughed. “Do you think your adorableness can arrange for the two of us to have tea with Her Grace?”
“Piece of cake,” Jack said.
RICHARD opened his eyes. Charlotte had come up the stairs and paused, studying him lying in bed. Darkness had fallen, and the gentle lights of the lanterns played on her face. She was beautiful. Looking at her opened a gaping hole inside him born from the knowledge he soon would have to let go.
They hadn’t made love since the operation on his face. He wanted her so badly, it burned, more than a want, a need akin to an addiction. He was addicted to Charlotte, to her scent, her taste, the soft touch of her skin against his. To watching her gasp in surprise when he brought her to a climax. He needed her the way he needed air, and anticipation of their separation set his teeth on edge.
In this moment, he regretted everything: every word he had said to her seemed wrong, every gesture coarse and stupid. She deserved . . . someone better than him, but he was deeply selfish and would do everything in his power to keep her.
“Where is Sophie?”
“She left,” Charlotte said. “Supposedly to say good-bye to her sister. Unfortunately, Jack had let it slip that Cerise and William are already out on assignment. She’s giving us privacy. I suspect all of the undead mice, squirrels, and birds watching your Lair are gone, too.”
He slipped into formal blueblood affectation. “Dear gods, are they expecting us to have intimate relations?”
“It appears so. Do the children know something I don’t?” she asked.
She’d changed the subject. “Kaldar sent a message through George,” Richard said. “Brennan left for the Southern Coast. Supposedly he’s visiting a sick friend.”
“He went to tour the island,” she said.
“Yes.”
“And now with him out of the way, you want to make the switch and become Casside?”
“If you’re ready to begin our scheme.” And once they began, they couldn’t be seen together. No hint of their alliance could exist.
“I’m ready,” she told him. “Choosing a dressmaker presented a dilemma, but I found one who is talented, poor, and hungry to make her mark. The dress orders are in, and I’ve piled money on her with promises of more. The first two gowns will be ready in record time. Jack is arranging a tea with Declan’s mother. I plan to come clean and ask for her assistance. My introduction will be much smoother if she lays the groundwork. I think I could convince her to help us. With or without Her Grace’s backing, I should make an appearance at the capital within two days at the celebration of Spring’s End.”
“Will Sophie be ready?”
“Yes and no.” Charlotte shook her head. “The basics are there, and she is very smart. Being a maiden of escort isn’t exactly complex. I did it when I was her age—you walk three steps behind your sponsor and don’t talk unless spoken to. While she doesn’t know everything yet, she’ll do fine.”
The anxiety ate at him. “Sounds like you have things in hand.”
“Yes.”
“Should we go through the plan again?” They had gone over it a dozen times, but the moment he left, events would spiral out of his control.
“You will travel to the capital and replace Casside. You’re planning on kidnapping him on the way to his weekly card game, which he will attend. The attack on the island likely made Brennan furious, and the four bluebloods under him will strive to maintain the status quo out of sheer self-preservation. You will kidnap Casside, remove his retainers from the house, and your family will detain them until we’re done.” She invited him to continue.
“In two days, you will make an appearance at the Spring’s End Ball,” Richard said. “You will make an impression on Angelia Ermine. You will befriend her. It’s likely that she is sleeping with Brennan.”
“You said that before,” Charlotte said. “What makes you so sure?”
“Do you remember that speech Brennan had written while in Academy about leadership as the true purpose of the monarchy?”
She nodded. They had read it to each other out loud.
“He wants the throne. He thinks he’s destined to rule, but he will never acquire the crown,” Richard said. “He’s too far removed from the line of succession. It’s killing him inside. The slaver ring is his kingdom, and Casside, Angelia, Rene, and Maedoc are his thanes. He would demand absolute loyalty from them. Angelia is young, unattached, and attractive. He would want the satisfaction of owning her completely.”
“Angelia is scum. I’ll have to strain not to kill her.” Charlotte shook her head. “While I’m working on her, you will stage an attempt on Brennan’s life, making him think that Maedoc is trying to kill him.”
It was a difficult plan, one that demanded that both of them surrender their best weapons. He would have to use his sword without the benefit of the flash technique, but she wouldn’t be able to use her magic either. That fact filled him with relief. Still, killing Brennan would have been so much easier with it.
Suddenly Charlotte stepped toward him and embraced him. Her lips touched his. He kissed her deeply and tasted desperation. “Are you afraid?”
“I’m terrified,” she said.
He held her to him. “I wish I knew what to say,” he murmured. “I wish I had the right words.”
“Tell me what will happen if we win,” she asked.
“If we win, I will find you,” he told her. “And if it’s in my power, we will never be apart again. If you will have me.”
“And if I won’t?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’ll probably beg. Or do one of those stupid dramatic things men do to win women over. If we still lived in the time of knights, I’d just unhorse anyone who stood in my way.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” she whispered, and kissed him back.
HER Grace, Lady Jane Olivia Camarine, Duchess of the Southern Provinces, was flawless, Charlotte reflected. She looked to be in her late forties although likely older since her son, the Earl of Camarine, was past thirty. Her tunic and trousers, a gorgeous emerald green and cream, were tailored with a deceptive simplicity that masked her thickening waist while playing up the duchess’s curves. Her hair, artfully layered on her head in twin plaits, elongated her round face. She wore a single piece of jewelry, a wedding ring crafted from spider-silk-thin tendrils of gold. It was both extremely expensive and superbly tasteful. She stood on the terrace, next to a picnic table, bathed in morning light.
“Look at the way she stands,” Charlotte murmured, as she and Sophie followed Jack to the table. “Chin tilted upward to make the neck appear thinner; light on the left, so it will play up the draping lines on her tunic. Long vertical lines, like those, make you appear thinner. You must always be aware of the light and know your best angles.”
“Your Grace,” Jack said. “May I present Charlotte de Ney and Lark.”
“Sophie Mar,” Charlotte murmured under her breath.
“And Sophie Mar,” he intoned.
Charlotte curtsied. Next to her, Sophie sank down gracefully.
“What a pleasure to meet you both.” The duchess smiled warmly. “Children, do you actually want to be here?”
“No,” Jack and Sophie chorused.
The duchess grinned. “Broderick fixed the fountain in the pool.” She pointed with her thumb over her shoulder in a distinctly unblueblood gesture. “Flee while you can!”
The two teenagers took off down the wide white stairs toward the pool gleaming in the middle of the lawn. At the last step, as if by some signal, they broke into a run, flying across the grass. Jack spilled out of his clothes. Sophie grasped the hem of her gown. Dear Dawn Mother, please let there be something under it. The gown flew off, revealing a small bikini. The two teenagers leaped in unison and vanished into the water.
“They planned this, didn’t they?”
“I’d imagine so,” Her Grace said. “Shall we?”
They sat at a table.
“I remember you. You were only fifteen at the time, but I recall you escorting Augustine al Ran.”
“I’m flattered,” Charlotte said.
“So is it Charlotte de Ney?”
There was no point in hiding. “Charlotte de Ney al-te Ran, Your Grace.”
“I thought so. Jack mentioned that you’ve been living in the Edge for the past three years. Have you been to see your mother since your return?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“The boys have given me a summary of your plan. Is it true? A Brennan is dealing in slaves?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The duchess looked at the two teenagers splashing in the pool. “I knew his parents. They were nice people. Capable, morally upright, conscious of their responsibilities. I wonder if they know. I doubt it. As a parent, you always worry and wonder if you went wrong somewhere, if something you said or did caused your child to stray from the path.”