Page 26 of The Wrong Royal

As the tea continued, the conversation flowed around me, each lady trying to impress with her wit, charm, and knowledge of the Wed season’s intricate politics. I kept my mouth shut for the most part. I gave nothing away. I smiled when appropriate and made the usual small talk about the weather and the amazing cakes that were served.

Theo loomed in the background of my thoughts. I wished I could be a mindless drone and simply accept my lot in life. Theo wasn’t a bad guy at all. He was a great match for someone, just not me.

“Have you talked to your sister?” one of the girls at the table asked. She actually seemed nice. She was quiet and shy.

I shook my head, taking a sip of my tea. “Not recently,” I replied, keeping my tone polite but distant. I didn’t want to reveal too much about my relationship with Nora. After all, my parents had strictly forbidden me from talking about her at all. Their goal was to pretend it never happened.

The quiet girl looked at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “It must be difficult to be in your position.”

I gave her a small smile of gratitude. At least someone understood. “It has its challenges,” I admitted. “But it’s my duty, and I intend to fulfill it to the best of my abilities.”

The conversation continued, and I found myself growing increasingly disinterested. It was all so mundane, a far cry from the excitement and adventure I craved. As the ladies finished their tea, I excused myself, eager to escape the stifling atmosphere.

As I made my way out of the parlor and down the hallway, I heard a soft rustling sound. Curious, I followed the noise until I found myself in front of a closed door. My heart thumped in my chest as I hesitated for a moment before reaching out to turn the handle.

I opened the door and found one of the young ladies sitting on a settee with a tissue in her hand. She looked up and saw me, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll leave you alone.”

But before I could turn and leave, she spoke up. “No, please. I could use someone to talk to.”

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was appropriate for me to stay and chat with her. But the look in her eyes made me reconsider. She seemed so vulnerable, so in need of a friend.

So, I sat down next to her and listened as she opened up about her troubles. She was matched to a man that was completely incompatible, but she couldn’t bear the thought of breaking off the engagement and shaming her family. I could relate all too well to her predicament.

“Have you talked to your parents?” I asked gently.

“I can’t. I know who you are.”

“You do?”

She nodded and wiped her tears. “I’m not trying to be insulting, but how did your sister do it? How did she get away?”

Her question wasn’t insulting. I could tell she was asking because she wanted to make her own escape. “I’m not sure,” I said. “But you don’t want to run away. You would be leaving everything behind.”

“My match is a cruel man,” she whispered. “I don’t want to be with him. It’s not that he’s ugly, although that is a disappointment. He’s cruel. My family has known his family for a long time. My match has been in a lot of trouble.”

I knew it was improper to ask, but I pitied the young woman. She was younger than I was. I couldn’t imagine how scared she must be. “What do you mean cruel?” I asked. “Will he hurt you?”

“I don’t know. No. I don’t think so. He’s mean. Last night, he told me my dress was hideous and I looked like a sausage.”

“That is awful! I’m sorry.”

“I just don’t know how I can live with him. He told me he would only come to my bed to get an heir but he will keep a mistress.”

That wasn’t exactly uncommon. “I’m sorry, but it’s still early in the season. Why don’t we go for a walk in the gardens? We’ll come up with a plan. Matches can be broken for a number of reasons. Lady Hamilton would never tolerate a man mistreating a woman. We’ll just have to find a way to make sure she sees it.”

The girl looked up at me and smiled. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I’ll help you.”

“I’m Clara,” she said. “I’m so glad to have a friend. Thank you, Emilie.”

13

THEO

The morning after the ball, I made my way to the annual gentlemen’s club meeting, where the gentlemen of the Wed season gathered to discuss the events of the previous evening. The grandeur of Lady Hamilton’s home was replaced by the wood-paneled walls and leather chairs of the club’s meeting room, a stark contrast to the opulence of the ball.