“Don’t you dare shush me, Leo! I am not and never will be a blindly obedient chattel and—”
“Spare me the lecture,” he hissed, “because the king’s cronies are coming!”
Her eyes and mouth widened to saucers but the doorknob had begun to turn before he could get his second leg over, so Leo had no choice but to take a leap of faith and throw himself out. And for some reason, Portia tried to catch him and got caught in her wet train, so they both ended up on their backsides on the gravel just as all the king’s cronies spilled inside the cardroom.
In silent, tacit agreement, they scrambled on their hands and knees out of sight of the window before he helped her up. Then handin hand, and with a handful of soggy train each, they hugged the wall as they hurried for cover under one of the archways.
It took Leo a minute to get his bearings.
“The main entrance is just behind us, and we want to avoid that, but we might be able to find another exit that isn’t quite so public.”
“If we are able to break back into the palace from this courtyard, that is.” Being an eternal cynic, Portia wasn’t convinced. “Then hope to find an unlocked side door despite the king currently being here and his doors being heavily guarded.”
“I will get us out, oh ye of little faith.” He tested a door and grinned smugly as he swept his arm toward it. “Look—no locks and no guards.”
“But we are back in the palace where someone will see me.”
Leo ignored that to sniff the air. “I can smell baking, can’t you?”
“What has that got to do with the price of fish?” Portia was too busy being annoyed at him to be able to think beyond it. Something that reminded him so much about how his happily married parents had always bickered that it gave him a bit more hope for them.
“It means that there is a kitchen nearby and where there is a kitchen, there is usually a servant who can be bribed.” He grabbed the full weight of her ruined train and followed the scent of baking bread, tugging her along behind him with a face like thunder.
It wasn’t long before they heard the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, so he left Portia huddled out of sight in a dark corner and strode in. The first person to spy him was a young scullery maid who couldn’t have been much more than fourteen.
“Excuse me.” He shot her his most charming smile. “I don’t suppose you could show me a way out of the palace where nobody will see me leave?” He subtly showed her a shiny silver crown as an incentive, which was probably more than she earned in a week.
“Of course, sir.” She bobbed a curtsy, checked that nobody else had spotted the coin, and scurried past him, suddenly eager to help. Once out of earshot of her coworkers, she said, “The servants’entrance will take you straight out on to Stable Yard Road, just off Cleveland Row.”
“Excellent—just give me a second to grab my wife, who if anyone asks, you haven’t ever seen.” Leo placed the crown into the girl’s palm and winked. “Try not to notice the state she is in either as it’s all my fault and a bit of a sore point.”
To give the young maid credit, she did not blink an eye when she spotted Portia and, true to her word, within minutes they were safely on the street outside without another soul seeing them.
“Didn’t I tell you that I would get you out?” He hurried her into a deserted side street and tugged her into the first decent sized doorway they passed. “Now take off those ruined feathers before any pedestrians spot you.”
“Why don’t you take them off seeing as you are apparently such an expert atremovinghairpins while I try and detach this stupid train?” If he was not mistaken, there was more than a hint of jealousy in her snippy tone. “I’ll be swifter on my feet if I am not dragging ten years of sopping wet brocade behind me.”
He knew that he shouldn’t build his hopes up when all he had was two paragraphs of an unfinished essay to go on, but he could not help being pleased by her reaction. “You say that as if my previous experience with hairpins bothers you.”
“I can assure you that I have no interest whatsoever in the many notches on your bedpost, Leo.” Except her face said differently, despite how she tried to cover her irritation by yanking at some fastening at her hip. “I’m sure there are plenty of women out there daft enough to positively throw themselves at you, what with your illustrious title and all.”
She refused to look at him even when he started removing her hairpins and so he could not resist teasing her a little bit more. “It is hardly my fault that not every woman has your visceral aversion tobeingwith a duke. Some even find me charming as well as impressively ducal. In fact, it’s just you that finds me abhorrent.”
Something ripped as she tugged hard on her train, and she huffed. “I don’t find you abhorrent, Leo. I never have. I just have a problem with all this.” One of her arms swept back toward the palace as if he suddenly owned it. “The fundamental principles of your world conflict with mine.”
“So it is more my title you don’t want to be with and not the man?”
She didn’t deny it and more hope sprung eternal. “Things would be simpler if you were just Leo.”
“I am just Leo—only Leo also happens to be a duke.”
“Do we have to talk about this now?”
Yes, they very much did if that was the only thing keeping them apart. “Tell me, now that you have a title too,your grace, do you suddenly feel less like Portia?”
“That’s different. I came by mine by accident.”
“Because I insisted that my father plant me in my mother’s womb when he did?”
