I knew the good mood that had been following me around for the last couple of days wouldn’t last. One look at my father’s face and I knew that my reprieve was at an end.

Dom touched my shoulder gently, noticing my stiffened posture. “What’s wrong?”

I looked up at him, his brow furrowed in concern and took strength from him. I didn’t yet understand what was happening between us, but what I did know was that it was in direct opposition to what my father wanted.

“Katerina,” my father said, the sound barely below a bellow.

Dom whipped his head from the man to me and looked askance. “Katerina?” he mouthed at me and I sighed, shaking my head.

“My Lord Father,” I said, sketching a quick, shallow curtsey as Lord Langdon Beaumonde, Earl of Villiard and Merveille’s Ambassador to France came to a stop in front of Dom and I. “I have repeatedly asked you to call me Priscilla. It is the name the Queen and all her subjects in the Palace know me by.”

My father’s mouth turned down further, although I hadn’t thought it possible, and disapproval radiated off him in waves. “You are my daughter and I shall address you as you were christened.”

“And I was christened Katerina Priscilla Beaumonde. Regardless, a Lawn Party on the Palace grounds is hardly the time nor place to get into specifics.”

Papa harrumphed and then turned his gaze on Dom, taking in how close we were standing and that our bodies were angled towards one another. Neither one of us had any official duties to perform today and we had come to the party together, our first official date. So far I had been having a delightful time, being with Dom was easy and we had so much in common. We, of course, had seen the surreptitious glances of both Alyssa and Will not to mention the other members of the Ladies in Waiting. Freddie had even winked at us which had caused my face to flame. But despite it all, nothing had ruined the day until this very moment.

“Who is this?”

Dom stood straighter and clicked his heels together before executing a perfect gentlemanly bow. “Dominique Furore, Lord Chancellor at your service,” Dom said in his very proper tone.

“What are you doing here with my daughter?”

“Papa,” I scolded, “The Lord Chancellor and I work together.” I tried to ignore the raised eyebrow from Dom at the diminishing of our relationship in front of my father.

Papa looked Dom over again. “Aren’t you married, son? Where’s your wife? Shouldn’t you be with her instead of harassing my daughter.”

“Papa!” The exclamation came out breathlessly, my unbelief that my father could be so rude to another Lord strangling my vocal chords.

“My wife is dead,” Dom said, his voice low and dangerous, “Five years ago, my Lord, now if you will excuse us.” Dom took my elbow and attempted to pull me away but my father grabbed my other arm and I was caught between the two men.

“I haven’t finished speaking to my daughter,” he said, gripping my arm tightly and causing me to wince.

“I will ask you to remove your hand from the lady, sir,” Dom said.

“You will not speak to me in this manner,” my father said, pulling himself up to his full height and puffing out his chest, neither of which intimidated Dom who was both taller and broader than my father.

“And you will not abuse your daughter so,” Dom replied, looking pointedly at where my father still gripped me.

He dropped my arm and I instinctively rubbed it, the red handprint stark against the paleness of my fair skin. “I must insist on a private conversation with my daughter,” Papa said, not giving in.

Dom looked at me and I could see the concern in his eyes. “I am loathe to leave you alone with him,” he said softly and my father sniffed in disapproval as he unashamedly eavesdropped.

I rested a hand on his strong chest, feeling the muscle jump under the starched white of his shirt, and looked up at him, a soft smile on my face. “I’m okay. I will talk to him and then I will come and find you.”

With one last, long look at me, a glare for my father and then a quick kiss on my cheek, he withdrew reluctantly, leaving me with my father on the stone terrace overlooking the rose garden which was currently a hive of activity as Lords and Ladies socialised under the spring sunshine.

“What are you doing with that man when your fiancé stands abandoned.”

I looked over at where Piérre stood surrounded by a gaggle of Society’s newest debutantes, all of who were desperate to find a well-connected husband.

I snorted. “He looks well enough entertained without me and I would remind you, yet again as you seem to be having trouble retaining the information, I am no longer betrothed to the Baron.”

“Rubbish,” my father cursed, “There is an arrangement—”

“An arrangement that was made without my consent and will not stand up in a court of law. It is not worth the paper it’s written on, Lord Father, and it is about time you come to terms with the fact. I have no intention of marrying the Baron, nor do I intend to return to France with you.”

“I will not have you speak to me this way, Katerina. It is further proof of why you need to return with me, this radical chit that calls herself a Queen has corrupted you.”

I very nearly slapped him, my palm itched to feel the sting of his cheek. “How dare you, sir,” I said, steel threaded through my voice. “You will cease and desist with your disparaging comments about our nation’s sovereign. You serve at her majesty’s pleasure and if you are not careful she would have every right to recall you from your beloved France and replace you with someone loyal to the crown.”

“Why you little—”

“I would be very careful what you say next, sir,” a voice said from behind me. I turned to see Freddie, Lord Frédéric Bingham, Earl of Avonlea, standing behind me, a murderous look on his face.

“My Lord,” my father bowed to the Earl, the florid red of his cheeks draining to a pasty grey.

Freddie turned to me and bowed. “My Lady, if I may interrupt, my dear fiancée wishes to speak to you.”

I thanked him with my eyes and bobbed a quick curtsey before escaping the ire of my father, my hands trembling from the confrontation.

I stood with Will and we watched as Freddie rescued Priscilla from her father. Whatever they had been discussing had not been pleasant and I could tell, even from across the terrace, that she was upset and very near doing or saying something that could very well cause a scene. Something that I was sure she would be mortified about if it were to happen. I had wanted to stride over there myself and deck the pompous twit, but Will had talked me down and Freddie had gone in my stead.

We watched as Freddie leaned in to say something to the Ambassador and the older man flushed scarlet before turning on his heel and storming away. Freddie shot us a grin and sauntered back over to us with a very self satisfied air about him.

“The man is lucky my fiancée didn’t overhear the drivel he was spouting. He may very well have been on the other end of her fist.”

“I dare say Priscilla was about ready to slap the man silly.”

Freddie chuckled and shook his head. “She’s fierce, you’re Priscilla, that’s for sure.”

I sobered as I looked at the door through which the Ambassador had disappeared. “Do we need to be worried about him, Freddie?”

Will shifted next to me as Freddie slid a glance to him. “I did overhear something that may indicate that the Ambassador is not entirely in favour of our new Queen and it may behoove us to keep an eye on the man.”

“Should I speak to Benjamin?” Will asked.

Benjamin was the head of the Queen’s personal security detail.

“I don’t think the Ambassador is dangerous, but it may be wise to mention something about the little spat we just saw. I dare say Alyssa would be wise to review the Ambassador’s appointment, he may have been out of the country for a little too long.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, in fact there was nothing quite much that I liked about the Ambassador.

“Did either of you know that Priscilla’s real name is Katerina?” I asked and both men looked at me in surprise.

“I had no idea,” Freddie said.

“Neither,” Will said, “I wonder if Alyssa knows?”

“It would’ve been in the security briefing that was done on her before she took up a position with the Palace, so I dare say she would know.”

Will smiled, “I don’t know that she actually read them.”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “No, she wouldn’t have.”

“It seems that the ladies are circling the wagons,” Will said with a nod to the small knot of pastel dresses and bent heads.

It relieved a bit of the anxiety I was feeling after the altercation with Priscilla’s father. The man was reprehensible and I was still trying to understand how he could’ve spoken to Priscilla that way, especially in such a public place. It also irked me that the Ambassador had brought the Baron with him, another man that I had less than no time for. What was their connection? What was it about the Baron that the Ambassador thought he would be a good match for Priscilla?

The beginning strains of a waltz rang through the air and Freddie straightened his coat.

“Well gents, this has been fun and all, but I think it is time that I took my fiancée out onto the dance floor and held her a little too close to be entirely proper.” With a wink and a grin he walked towards the group of women who had gathered around Priscilla, intent on Alex.

“I think I might take a leaf out of Freddie’s book,” Will said, “I’ve barely seen my fiancée over the last few weeks and we are well overdue for some… dancing.”

I smiled as the Prince-to-be went to fetch his Queen and wondered why I was still standing there, alone. I made a beeline for Priscilla and felt the kick in my gut when she lifted her head and spied me coming. Her face broke into a smile and I lost my breath for a moment. The woman was stunning, but when she smiled, it was something entirely different and new and something I didn’t have words to describe.

I reached her and dipped my head in a bow, holding out my arm to her. “Care to dance, Lady Priscilla.”

She slid her hand through my elbow and looked up at me with those world-weary blue eyes, her mouth ticked up in a smile. “It would be my honour, my Lord.”

I led her to the dance floor and pulled her close.

“Are you okay?” I asked, looking down at her in concern.

Instead of answering, she lowered her head so her forehead rested on my chest. My arms tightened around her and our waltz became little more that just the two of us swaying to the music in the same spot.

“Thank you for sending Freddie,” she said after a while, looking up at me, “I very nearly decked him, which would not have gone over well.”

I couldn’t help my smile at the thought of her laying one on her father. She was so delicate and pretty in her mint green tea-length gown and it flew in the face of the violence that she had been contemplating against her father.

“I very nearly decked him myself,” I murmured.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that. I’m afraid it has been brewing for a while and I’m quite sure that it is not yet over.”

“Is it something I can help you with?” I asked, wanting to protect her from any more of the Ambassador’s venom.

She sighed and shook her head, her eyes dropping to examine my tie. “I’m afraid not. This is something that my father and I will need to work out ourselves.” She looked up at me with wide blue eyes and I was lost. “But thank you.”

Did this woman not know that I would do anything for her? All she had to do was ask and I would move heaven and earth for her just to see her smile. I’d travel through Hades itself if it meant I could remove the haunted look from her eyes.

Damn.

I was in trouble.

“May I cut in?” I felt Dom stiffen in my arms as Piérre’s voice intruded on our moment.

Reluctantly, Dom stepped away from me, his eyes on me, asking me silently if I was okay with it. I gave him a barely perceptible nod and a confident smile and turned to Piérre.

“My Lord.” I gave him a shallow curtsey and saw his undisguised smirk.

Dom stepped away as Piérre took me in his arms and waltzed me away.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, my Lord?” I asked him.

“I do so like it when you are agreeable instead of the hellish shrew that you’ve been lately.”

I clenched my jaw to physically stop myself from retaliating.

When I remained silent, he smirked again and then spoke, “I thought it only appropriate that I dance with my fiancée.”

“My Lord,” I said, the grip on my temper quickly eroding, “As I informed my father earlier and as I have continually reminded the both of you over the last twelve months, I am no longer betrothed to you and I have no intention of continuing this farce of an engagement.”

“You’re really not in a position to do that,” he said simply, no concern whatsoever in his tone.

“I’m not in a position to refuse your advances?” I spluttered indignantly, “Am I not in control of my own choices regarding my own person?”

“Your father and my father signed an agreement—”

“So everyone keeps reminding me, but, my Lord, I was not party to the agreement, nor did I give my consent. We no longer live in an age where father’s have control over their daughter’s love lives, this is, after all, the twenty-first century, is it not? I haven’t accidentally tumbled through a wormhole and found myself back in time?”

It was Piérre’s turn to grit his teeth, but he didn’t hold back his retort, he just kept the volume down which came over quite menacing. “You will learn to curb you tongue around me and show me some respect or there will be consequences—”

“Consequences! Ha! What do you intend to do? Take me over your knee, my Lord? I can most assuredly tell you that I will not tolerate such brutish behaviour—”

“Once we are married, you will behave or you will feel the sting of my belt buckle.”

“Threatening violence now? I do believe you forget yourself, my Lord. You are a visitor to this country, here by her Majesty’s good graces and I would not advise you threaten one of her closest friends if you do not wish to be unceremoniously tossed back over the border and into France.”

He stopped dancing and grabbed me roughly around the wrists, pulling me close so he could growl harshly in my ear. “Now listen here you little tramp. You are mine and I will not have you speak to me this way, nor will I have you gallivanting around like some trollop dancing and carousing with other men. This shrewish behaviour will come to a stop or I will remove you from this place—”

“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt,” a smooth voice said from behind me, “But I do believe Lady Priscilla promised me a dance.”

Piérre schooled his features, the ugly menacing look melted away as he took in the newcomer.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.” I turned as Freddie gave a very proper bow. “Lord Frédéric Bingham, Earl of Avonlea.”

“Baron Piérre Romanov,” Piérre replied with a courteous bow. Piérre may have been able to dismiss Dom, but he wouldn’t get away with the same with Freddie.

I took Freddie’s hand as he led me back out on to the dance floor and waited until we had moved away from Piérre before speaking.

“Thank you for rescuing me once again, my Lord,” I said.

“It’s not like you to need rescuing at all let alone twice in one day.”

“I know, but I was trying valiantly to not cause a scene but neither my father nor the Baron were very accomodating.”

“I hate to pry,” he said carefully, “But I’m beginning to think that there is something going on that has the potential to cause quite a scandal that could outdo the paltry scene you were trying to avoid.”

I sighed and anxiety buzzed under my skin. Freddie was right, but this close to the wedding, what could I do? I needed to contain it until after the Queen and Will were married. Only then might I have a chance to minimise the damage to the Palace’s reputation.

“I’m doing my best to keep it contained,” I said, “I don’t want anything to happen that will tarnish the Queen’s upcoming wedding.”

“Do you not think it better to let us all in on what is going on? Forewarned is forearmed as they say.”

“I don’t wish to distract Alyssa with my petty problems, she has enough to worry about without me heaping on the pile. Besides, if the Press got wind of what my father has done, it won’t be good for the reputation of the Palace or the Queen.”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t like the sound of that at all,” he said, “Is Alyssa in some sort of danger?”

“Oh, lord, no,” I said, “This whole issue is a family matter, but if the details became known it would reflect badly on the Queen and her choice of me as a Lady in Waiting and my father as Ambassador.”

“You are speaking in riddles and rather than calming me it is in fact worrying me more.”

“Please Freddie,” I said softly, “There is no danger to Alyssa or Will or any of the others, this is all about me and my father’s antiquated and unrepentant views about how much influence he can have in his daughter’s life.”

Freddie didn’t look convinced, but he let it go and I breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing I wanted was for him to say something to Alyssa or start looking into the situation himself. I had to handle this whole thing myself and I needed to handle it quietly.