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“Falsehood flies, and truth comes limping after it, so that, when men come to be undeceived, it is too late; the jest is over, and the tale hath had its effect.”

—Jonathan Swift

T he advantage to skipping out on her evening activities was that Charity had plenty of time to consider what she would say to the Queen—if and when Her Majesty deigned to receive them. Unfortunately, she spent much of that time steeping in thoughts of other matters.

Given Queen Charlotte had been ill-tempered enough to bar them entry the night before, Charity had no illusions their next meeting would go pleasantly.

She would have to tread carefully, trying to find out how much of Selina’s connection to the Order was known.

Giving up Selina as a member of the secret organization would have terrifying consequences for the marchioness, if not Peregrine.

And the Queen might not care that Selina was the only person who might be able to spot which of the others was working for Marian Fitzroy.

Responsibility weighed heavily on her, especially since Peregrine was leaving the choice in her hands.

He trusted her. It still amazed her that he had said those words aloud.

And it terrified her. And what had happened with Peregrine had been what had preoccupied her for the largest part of the night.

At least, she thought with a slightly hysterical tinge, we are no longer cutting each other dead .

But where life would take them was still very much in question. It seemed impossible to imagine any real future together. Not now, or even soon, given everything that was stacked against them.

For that reason, Charity avoided her mother’s letter.

She had enough of her mama’s voice screeching inside her head to keep her on as straight a path as possible.

She did not need to read a letter demanding she retreat to the countryside or chastising her for doing the best she could given the circumstances.

When all was said and done, when the princess’s engagement was announced and the current challenges were behind her, Charity would pen a long note of explanation to her family.

And at least, for now, there was a semblance of peace between her and the tethered falcon.

She drifted off to a dreamless sleep, the exhaustion of the previous days taking its toll. However, when her maid, Miller, shook her awake again, it was still dark in the room. Only the barest hint of a glow lit the edge of her curtains.

“Your Grace, you must wake up. It is urgent,” the maid said, her voice rough with sleep. “Lord Fitzroy is here and he said we must rouse you.”

“And you listened?” Charity asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes .

“He threatened to come up here himself if we did not. Even so, Pritchard was of the mind to turn him away, until his lordship showed him the morning paper.”

It was far too early for the newspaper to be in circulation. For Peregrine to have a copy, something truly terrible must have happened.

“Give me my wrapper.” Charity tucked the loose strands of hair framing her face behind her ears and smoothed her braid with her hands. She belted her wrap, slid her feet into her slippers, and hurried down the stairs.

Peregrine was in the parlour, pacing in front of the cold fireplace. His coat was rumpled, his cravat pin drooping from a loose knot. His stark blond hair nearly glowed under the light of the chandelier, but it was the shadows on his face that stopped her in her tracks.

“Have you slept at all?” Charity gasped, and then hurried over to him. “Egads, you reek of alcohol. What has happened?”

“Please, can we sit? I have been run off my feet, and there is a great deal I have to warn you about.”

She nodded, and Peregrine collapsed onto a settee, rubbing his bleary eyes as he looked sidelong at the footman pointedly stationed in the room with them.

“Ravenscroft and I conceived of a plan to prevent a disaster, Your Grace,” he said vaguely.

“The unfortunate news is that we were obliged to part with something else to pay for that plan. It, er… I expected you would be unpleasantly surprised if I did not rouse you.”

Peregrine opened his coat, pulled a folded broadsheet from the inside pocket, and held it out to her. She took it from him, ignoring the newsprint staining her hands, and unfolded it.

The first word she spotted was poison. The second she spotted was her name. Her breath caught in her chest as she struggled to make sense of the story swimming in front of her eyes .

“Queen’s Diamond Averts Royal Tragedy! - Duchess Atholl proved she had wits to match her beauty when she warned the Home Office and foiled an attempt to poison Charlotte, the beloved Princess of Wales. His Royal Highness the Prince Regent confirmed the story… ”

The rest of the article disappeared as black spots filled her vision.

“ Breathe, Charity ,” Perry hissed.

She sucked in air without thinking and then coughed, nearly choking on it. The paper crumpled in her hand as she tightened her fists. When her vision cleared, she glanced down at the wadded ball in her lap. It hardly resembled a broadsheet any longer.

It had to be some kind of a joke, an idea he had that she could still stop. The morning papers were not due to arrive for at least another couple of hours.

“Say you are not serious,” she finally uttered, looking at him. “You cannot possibly be thinking of going through with this.”

“It is already done. With Prinny’s approval.” Peregrine held her gaze, but he let his eyes flicker towards the footman again.

Rage began to heat her skin from beneath. Charity stood up and faced the servant, struggling to keep her face and voice stony. “Leave us.”

The man retreated hastily, seeing something Charity evidently hadn’t concealed well enough. Charity began to pace in front of the window, uncertain what else to do with the terrifying feelings coursing with her. Scream? Cry? Throw things at him?

Peregrine stood and crossed the room, forcing her to stop in front of him. She speared him with a blistering glare.

“Tell me you did not set me up to fall in order to save your friend,” she shot at him.

“I know this is an unwelcome revelation. But after everything, you cannot possibly believe I would trade your welfare for hers,” he replied, his voice dry.

“I do not know what to think! But we cannot go through with this,” she insisted, trying to remain in control of her faculties.

“The two of you have as good as told the whole world I thwarted your mother’s plot.

There will be a line of people forming outside of my house who will want to kill me for this, and both your mother and the Queen of England will be fighting for the first spot in the procession! ”

As she ranted, the lines of tension eased on his face. Now, the pale blonde devil actually smiled at her, and Charity’s vision swam with red.

“You think this is amusing ?” she asked, poking him hard in the chest. “You must leave now and make the paper print something else!”

He wisely did not answer, but his smile increased fractionally. “It will be all right. I daresay you will be a hero, the woman who foiled a plot to assassinate the heir to the throne. Just think of the invitations that will flood your doorstep.”

“How dare you patronise me!” She poked him again, harder, only barely resisting the urge to do greater violence. He captured her hand, trapping it. Charity yanked, but he did not release her.

“Let me go,” she growled.

“So you can continue to poke me so rudely? You should remember how I feel about doing unto others as they do to me, Duchess.” He gave her a hooded look and her face flamed.

“I mean it! Release me at once.”

“Say please,” he teased her, his voice a low purr that was both playful and dangerously wicked.

Flustered by the sudden heat between them, Charity’s eyes dropped to the cravat hanging loose on his neck, and for a moment she considered the merits of grabbing it with her other hand and throttling him with it .

Or… perhaps kissing him would be the better choice.

“I can see you thinking something dangerous, Sparkles. I wouldn’t, were I you,” he warned her, his voice light. When she jerked her attention back to his face, his eyes held something hot and dark. And then they dropped to her lips.

Desire , she named the expression on his face suddenly, also identifying the feeling growing within the pit of her belly. Her racing heart somehow picked up more speed, and she tensed, steeling herself against the urge to provoke him further. To see what would happen.

Reluctantly, he let her hand go, moving back a half step. “I know you are worried. But I would not have done this if I thought it would put you in more danger. If anything, this will better ensure your safety. The Queen will not dare take away the guards now.”

Shakily, Charity ran her freed fingers over her face. The air felt cooler with him no longer so near, and she shivered. “But Cameron is dead.”

“But he was not the only one working for my mother. Charity, listen to me. I discovered yesterday there is a bounty on your head—paid in full, waiting only to be claimed. This news changes you from diamond to national treasure, someone to be protected at all costs. You cannot be left unguarded.”

And where will you be? her thoughts shouted at him. What of the threats to you? She inhaled through her nose and banished her nightmares back to the darkness.

Stand tall. Be fearless , she ordered herself. Even though she was anything but.

“We are not done discussing this, but what’s done is done,” is all she said instead. “So we must focus our minds on what comes next. And that is an audience with the Queen.”