Once Upon a Maiden Lane (Maiden Lane #12.5)(28)

He closed his eyes and brushed his lips against her knuckles, so lightly it might never have happened. He wished he could take her into his arms. Kiss her and tell her that he was beginning to care for her. Hold her for hours.

But he couldn’t—not here, not now—so he turned and left.

He vowed, however, to discuss Mary’s safety with her father. And after that? He was going to find and deal with the bastard trying to kill her.





Chapter Ten



Well, being a maidservant wasn’t exactly what Clio had been hoping for, but at least she was close to the prince. Day and night she served by his side, and she was able to gaze upon his lovely blue eyes and listen as he confided in her. In the evenings she met Triton in the castle gardens. Each night he would raise his eyebrows in question and Clio would sorrowfully shake her head, for the prince had not yet kissed her.…

—From The Curious Mermaid



Henry’s mother was simply delightful. Lady Diane rose to welcome Mary the next day when she came for tea. She was a willowy woman with black hair threaded with silver and her son’s bright blue eyes.

“My dear,” Lady Diane said, taking Mary’s hands between her own. “I am so glad to meet you finally.”

The countess led Mary to a settee and introduced her daughters, Lady Rebecca and Lady Katherine, called Becca and Kate respectively. Kate was the older, with her mother’s glossy black hair and a serene air. Becca was the youngest in the family at eighteen and had a mischievous smile. Mary caught her rolling her eyes at something her mother said halfway through the tea.

All in all it was a lovely afternoon. Mary relaxed after a bit when she realized that though she wasn’t used to wearing the latest fashions she could certainly discuss them. Also, Becca and Kate turned out to be wonderful gossips—they told her about all sorts of members of society. Lady Diane tutted about gossiping, but Mary noticed that she leaned just as close to hear the latest.

When the tea was all consumed and the plates held but crumbs of the cakes that had been served, Henry strolled into the room.

He greeted his mother with a kiss on her cheek. “Would you mind terribly if I steal my fiancée away?”

“Not at all,” Lady Diane replied.

Mary rose and placed her hand on Henry’s offered arm. She couldn’t help the heat that rose in her cheeks at the touch, however proper. She could feel his warmth through his sleeve, and she fancied that she felt muscle as well.

She repressed a shiver as he led her out of the room.

“I wanted to show you the orangery,” he said, bending his head close to hers as they walked. She could feel the brush of his breath on her cheek.

She swallowed. “You grow oranges?”

“Oranges and other hothouse plants,” he replied. “Although it’s the gardener who does the growing under Mother’s supervision. When I was a boy the orangery was my favorite place.” He shot a grin at her. “Especially when I was hiding from my tutor.”

“You grew up in London?” she asked.

He nodded. “Here and at our estate in the country. It’s a grand old manor with dozens of ancestral paintings and the odd weapon or two displayed on the walls.”

“Where do you live now?”

“I have a town house.” He glanced at her ruefully. “Can’t show it to you before we’re married, sadly, but I can drive you by the place.”

“I’d like that,” she mused as they made the lower level and he guided her through the library to a set of glass doors. “We’ll live there after?”

“There and at my country house. I have my own besides the earldom’s seat. We can live in London or the country, whichever you prefer.” He seemed to search her face. “Or we can travel if you’d like.”

She was grateful that he was considerate of her desires. “Perhaps we should decide together.” She glanced up at him, meeting those blue eyes. “After all, we will be both living wherever we go.”

His smile was warm. “I like that idea.”

She remembered something. “Henry…” She hesitated.

“Yes?” He paused with his hand on the glass doors.

“Your mother mentioned today that your cousin Richard is in town.” She took a breath and looked at him seriously. “That he’s been in town for the last fortnight.”

“What of it?”

“It’s just that he’s been here the whole time. He was here when we were shot at.”

He grimaced and shook his head. “I told you. It’s not Richard. The man is more timid than a mouse.”

“There are those who would describe me as being more timid than a mouse.”

“Yes, but you have hidden depths,” he said leaning closer to her with his lips quirked. “Richard is as depthless as a plate of water.”

She huffed out an irritated breath. “Did you know he was in town?”

“No,” he said gently, “but it makes no difference. I’m not the one being targeted.”

“Why would anyone shoot at me?”

He looked away and then back at her as if he didn’t want to have this conversation at all. “I don’t know but I don’t want you to worry. I’ve talked to your father, and he’s assured me that you’ll be protected. I’ll find this person, never fear.”