Prologue #2
She turned to look behind her, to see if there was someone she could use as a reason to excuse herself, and caught the eyes of a somber gentleman who was gazing back at her soulfully.
“Oh dear God,” she murmured.
With a frown, Niki looked in the same direction. “Do you know that gentleman?”
“No, that is, yes.” She took a deep breath. “The truth is, he thinks he is in love with me. I have tried to persuade him he is not, but he won’t listen.”
Niki narrowed his eyes and glared in a truly alarming manner, presumably at Mr. Walter, although Roberta did not look again. After a moment, the prince gave her a satisfied smile. “He is gone,” he said.
Roberta glanced around and saw Mr. Walter was indeed gone. “Thank you so much! How did you do that?”
“My pleasure,” Niki said, and it seemed that it really was. This time, his smile made him look years younger. “I learned the trick of discouraging bores from approaching me at a young age.”
“Perhaps Mr. Walter will find someone else to fall in love with.”
Niki hesitated. “You are not intending to marry then?”
“No. Definitely not Mr. Walter, but not anyone, really. I don’t think I am cut out for marriage.
” It was true enough. As much as she loved her family and saw how happy her sisters and brother were with their partners, she did not believe what they had was for her.
It seemed too small somehow. There was a big world out there, waiting, and Roberta had always had the strong desire to set off and see it.
Niki was silent, and now the awkwardness had returned.
It really was time for her to go. She had opened her mouth to wish him well for his stay in London when there was a sharp sound.
It sounded like something snapping. Then glass shattered in the window beside them.
Niki cried out, and Roberta gave a little scream of shock.
Niki stumbled forward, as if he had lost his balance, and she caught him in her arms. Although they were much the same height, she discovered he was heavier than his slender frame suggested, and the weight of him sent her sprawling upon the chaise longue beside them in the alcove.
“Sir!” she gasped. “Niki?”
His head was resting against her breast, and for one awful moment, she thought he was dead. Then he looked up, and she saw a smear of blood on his temple beneath the fashionable arrangement of his dark hair. His eyes were glazed, and he held his hand to his injury and grimaced.
“Are you hurt?” she asked him stupidly.
“No,” he mumbled. Then, seeming to regain his composure, “No. A near miss.” But the eyes he lifted to hers were wide and shocked and anything but composed. He looked so uncharacteristically vulnerable that something inside her twisted.
“Did someone just try to kill you?” she whispered.
He was still leaning against her, his body heavy and warm, and she felt his breath on her lips as he answered, “Yes.”
And then they were surrounded. Guests were expressing their shock and concern, and men who seemed to be part of Niki’s entourage helped him to his feet, leaving Roberta to rise to hers and step away.
She could only watch dumbly as the prince was led off, so closely surrounded by his people that he was almost invisible.
Then she caught a glimpse of familiar red hair. Now there was someone she recognized.
Freddie Hart.
Roberta knew Freddie well. He was a close friend of her brother and Charles Wickley, her sister Justina’s husband.
Gabriel, Charles, and Freddie had been children together in St. Ninian’s Foundling Home for Boys and had forged a bond that had never been broken.
Freddie used to be in the army but was presently engaged in work for the government.
Very secretive work, according to her brother.
And yet here he was now, dressed smartly in fashionable evening wear with his auburn hair cut short above his neatly tied cravat.
He wasn’t a particularly handsome man, unlike Gabriel and Charles, but there was an appeal about him, and a steadfastness that was very reassuring.
Especially reassuring to Roberta at this moment.
His gaze was sweeping about the room, and when their eyes met, he didn’t seem at all surprised. Roberta had the sense Freddie did not miss much. He had probably been watching her conversation with the prince before the shot was fired.
He came to join her. “Are you injured?” he said sharply.
Until that moment, Roberta had not considered that she too might have been hurt. She shook her head. “No, not me. Is Niki…is the prince badly hurt? He was bleeding.” She touched her temple and found her hand was shaking badly.
Freddie took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Not seriously,” he said. “Shocked, I think. I need to speak to him. Can you get home, or do you require my help?”
Roberta looked about her and was surprised to see the room was almost empty.
At some point after the shooting, the guests had been shuffled out.
Here she was, all set for a pleasant, uneventful evening, and now this.
And of course, she had to wonder why on earth someone would want to shoot at the prince here in the heart of London. Would want to kill him.
She opened her mouth to quiz Freddie and then remembered he had asked her a question. “I have the coach,” she said. “But thank you.”
He nodded solemnly. “Come on, then. I will wait with you.” He took her hand and tucked it into his elbow. “Gabriel would not be happy with me if he thought I had abandoned you.”
That made her smile. It was true, Gabriel was a very diligent brother.
And then she shuddered again, remembering what had just happened.
“I will have a story to tell him when I get home,” she said.
“I can hardly believe it. The prince did say there had been disturbances in his country, but for someone to try to harm him in the middle of a Society gathering…”
Freddie’s expression was grim. “It is a bad look for a foreign guest of our government to come under attack. Something will have to be done.”
Roberta let his words wash over her. She was remembering the shocked expression in Niki’s eyes as she held him in her arms. It made her heart ache in a way it had not done for three years, and she wasn’t exactly sure what that meant.