I sat astride Bold in white breeches, knee-length, brown leather boots, a canary yellow waistcoat topped with a scarlet hunt coat with brass buttons, and a black riding helmet. I was strangled by the white tie that circled my throat and felt like a complete fraud as Bold danced beneath me in the marshalling area of the hunt. Dogs and riderless horses milled about, mixing with the horseless riders and mounted horses. It was disorganised chaos, or so it seemed from my point of view.

A path was cleared as the queen and prince approached. She was stunning in a black frock coat and black top hat with a short veil, and Will was equally at ease in his own scarlet coat and white breeches. They were soon joined by Freddie and Alex, followed by the rest of the royal party - Jeanette included. I was anonymous to her amongst the large crowd and I revelled in that anonymity as I drank the sight of her in. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since our tête-à-tête in the middle of the paddock earlier that week, but she was never far from my thoughts.

I had been biding my time, waiting for Martin to spill the beans, but for some reason he had yet to speak to her. He assured me that he would and that he was conducting his own investigation first. In the meantime, I had been working with him on getting his wines recognised outside of Merveille. I didn’t understand why he insisted on investigating Lord Cameron himself when both Freddie and the palace’s security team had supplied him with everything they needed to call the viscount on his ruse. For now, I was content to wait and see how it all played out. But I wouldn’t wait forever.

Speak of the devil. Lord Cameron appeared looking every inch the English gentleman he pretended to be. I suppose that was an unfair statement. Strictly speaking, he was still an English gentleman, he just also happened to be broke. He certainly hadn’t been displaying very gentlemanly behaviour in lying to the Bowers though.

I watched as he approached Jeanette, who smiled at his greeting. From my vantage point it looked more like a stock-standard smile that didn’t reach her eyes. I kicked myself for hanging back. Why couldn’t I just ride up to her and say hello? We were friends, weren’t we? It was my own insecurities keeping me from approaching her. Being here amongst all this nobility had the strange effect of making me realise my humble beginnings. I questioned my right to be here, mixing with people who, by all accounts, were deemed my betters. I was a kid from the country. A cane farmer’s son who had had to turn my back on my family in order to follow my own dreams. These people didn’t know what that was like. Family was everything to them, whether they liked them or not. Their whole history was wrapped up in who their great-great-grandfather was on their mother’s side. Their standing in society was determined by an accident of birth and they were called lords and ladies purely because of the DNA that ran through their veins. The way they were regarded had no bearing on their behaviour. For someone like me, who had a strong justice streak a mile wide, it all seemed so unfair. What made these toffs any better than me? The fact that they had been raised by nannies and boarding schools made them no more of a decent human being than my own modest upbringing. I had been raised to believe in a meritocracy, they had been raised in aristocracy.

I huffed out a breath. I was a fool for thinking that Jeanette would even consider me as part of her life. She was a part of the aristocracy. She had gotten her job because of her father’s title. She was determined to marry Lord Cameron, despite not even liking the guy, simply because he could give her a title. Did I even want to hitch my wagon to a woman like that?

What I couldn’t reconcile was the Jeanette I had gotten to know and the one who would marry simply for social elevation. Not once in the many dealings I’d had with her had I ever found her to be afflicted with that sort of snobbery. She had never made me feel less than her. She had never treated others that way either. She was always polite and respectful. Not at all how I would have imagined a social climber would act. So which one was the real Jeanette? Who was she when she was in private?

Bold tossed his head as the hounds bayed, bringing my wayward thoughts back to the situation at hand. Regardless of who Lady Jeanette was, I had a hunt to survive and I would need my wits about me. There were a lot of riders in the group, some of them looked to be too old to take part in such a vigorous activity. They were also the ones I had spied drinking from silver hip flasks. It was summer and not at all cold, so there was no need for a little brandy to keep the bones warm. I knew that in Australia you could get charged with drunk driving if you were caught riding a horse while over the legal limit. I didn’t think the same rules applied here. I did not want to get stuck in the middle of the pack with men who were too inebriated to control their mounts safely.

“You good to go?” Freddie asked, riding up next to me.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said with a sigh and he laughed.

We watched as the master of hounds set the dogs free in order to pick up the scent that had been dragged by a runner earlier.

“Stick with me,” he said with a wink, “If you can keep up.”

The horn sounded, drowning out any response I might have made, and we were off. The cacophony of baying hounds, cheering hunters and stamping hooves was deafening. I felt Bold’s desire to get underway and I wheeled him around, pointing him in the direction of the retreating pack, and gave him his head.

It was hard not to get caught up in the atmosphere of the hunt. It helped knowing that a poor innocent fox wouldn’t be harmed at the end of it. Whether foxes were poor or innocent was not my argument to debate. As an introduced animal and therefore a pest in Australia, I had my own thoughts on the matter which I didn’t think applied in a country where they were part of the natural environment. I did, though, find it quite ironic that the fox was first introduced to Australia just for the sake of fox hunting.

I kept an eye on Freddie as I urged Bold on. The hunt was being held on the palace grounds and I had to admit that the rolling hills and light forest was a beautiful place to spend the day riding. Even if we were riding hell for leather with nary a glance at the passing scenery. I laughed at myself, feeling a little high on the adrenalin of the hunt. I would not have classed myself as a violent person, so the thrill of the chase was a little disconcerting. I had hunted before, but usually from the back of a truck with a rifle and a spotlight. It wasn’t the same visceral experience as riding a horse at top speed across the countryside surrounded by the sound of barking dogs and the cries of ‘tally-ho!’

I spied Jeanette and headed in her direction. She was intent on the pack as they raced after what they thought was a fox. So far, we had only been led over the green grassy hills, but I spied the first of the hounds entering the woods, jumping the low hedge or scrambling under it. I watched Jeanette and Filigree pass over the hedge and I took confidence in how easily they had done it. Bold gathered himself and then launched us across, me hanging on, trying hard not to tug the reins too hard. He landed soundly on the other side, but I didn’t have too much time to congratulate myself. The land dropped steeply away, the rain from the other day making the churned-up track a muddy, slippery mess. We slowed. It wasn’t worth a fall or a lame horse just to be the first to the finish.

“All right there Jeanette?” I called to her as Filigree refused to cross the small stony creek.

She looked over her shoulder and raised her hand, her thumb up. She turned Filigree and urged her across and I followed up the rear. Bold settled in next to Filigree and I could just imagine their conversation if they could talk. No doubt my ham-fisted abuse of the reins would be his main complaint.

The woods closed in about us, slowing us to a walk. The narrow track made single file a necessity and I was grateful for the reprieve to get my breath back. I saw another hedge ahead, a taller one this time. There was no way to jump it, not with how closed in the track was and I thought maybe we would have to turn back. There was a long line of us, so turning around and heading back to find an alternate way would be time consuming. I checked over my shoulder, but no one else seemed concerned with the looming bramble hedge, so I turned back to see what they knew and I didn’t. The first of the horses reached the hedge and… passed straight through it. As I got closer I saw the opening that had been camouflaged by the overgrown brambles.

The thorny bush scratched at my coat sleeves as we passed through the hedge and the field opened up before us. I could hear the hounds and I kicked Bold into a gallop, hoping to catch Jeanette. I had lost Freddie a while ago, but I wasn’t worried. It may even be in my favour to beat him. Freddie was not the kind of guy who wanted to be pandered to and was one of the most competitive men I’d known. With a renewed vigour to come in ahead of my boss, I urged Bold faster.

I could see a post and rail fence coming up and tucked my elbows in and gripped Bold with my thighs in preparation. It was taller than the previous hedge that we had jumped, but I had once been good at this. Admittedly, that had been in my younger days when I was fearless and foolish. I waited for Jeanette to go first and then pulled Bold to a shuddering stop. Filigree refused the jump, shying at the last minute and tossing Jeanette from her seat. I was off the back of Bold and racing over to her before I could even register what was happening. Horses continued to gallop passed us, clearing the fence without an issue, as I knelt to look at Jeanette. Filigree stood by quietly, whatever had spooked her long gone. The filly wasn’t prone to skittish behaviour so I had to think there had been something to cause her to baulk at the jump.

“Are you okay?” I asked, helping Jeanette to her feet.

She rubbed her arm, flexing her fingers as her face screwed up in a grimace.

“I’m okay,” she said before turning to gather Filigree’s reins. She tossed the leather over Filigree’s neck and then proceeded to run her hands over the horses legs, checking for injury. She lifted Filigree’s hooves, checking for stones or a loose shoe, but came away empty handed.

“Do you think she’s okay to ride?” I asked, concerned for the horse as much as the rider.

Okay, not as much as the rider, I chided myself, but still concerned.

Jeanette walked Filigree around in a large circle, checking her gait and then shrugged.

“She seems okay,” Jeanette said before remounting.

She wheeled the horse around a couple of times before taking another run up and clearing the fence effortlessly.

I climbed up on Bold and followed her over.

“Come on!” I called over my shoulder. “We can still catch them.”

Drew shook his head but smiled as he urged Bold faster. I didn’t know why Filigree had shied at the last jump, but she seemed fine now. I was keen to join the rest of the pack before the ‘fox’ was found.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Drew called to me as he came up alongside.

“I’m fine,” I said, “Nothing’s broken.”

We came to a lightly wooden area and I reined in Filly. Drew pulled Bold to a stop beside us.

“What—”

“Shh,” I hissed. “Can you hear them?”

We both listened. I couldn’t hear anything that would point us in the right direction for the hunt. I was about to turn around and head back in the other direction when Drew leaned over and put his hand on my thigh.

“Wait,” he said.

I shot a look at him. I expected to see the same look on his face that he had the other day when he kissed me. Instead, he looked like he was listening to something.

“Can you hear it?” he asked.

I strained to hear. Being so close to him with his hand on my thigh made it difficult to concentrate.

“There,” he said, “I can hear the hounds.”

I could too then.

“This way,” I said, turning Filigree and kicking her into a gallop.

I heard the heavy hoofbeats of Bold behind me as we raced across the paddock. The sound of the dogs got louder as we closed in and then the horn sounded. The hunt was over. I slowed Filigree to a walk and turned her in another direction. I knew a shortcut back to the palace. Drew followed me.

“Are you disappointed?” I asked.

“No,” he replied, “I had fun.”

I smiled. I’d had fun too.

“You missed the end, though,” I said.

He shrugged, “I think the whole point is still yet to come.”

“Ah, yes,” I replied, nodding. “The cigar room.”

“What?” He looked at me, horrified.

“After the dinner tonight, all the men retire to another room to talk business. In reality, they drink hard liquor and smoke cigars.”

“The queen allows that?”

I grinned at him. “She usually joins them, much to their disgust. It was a tradition of her father’s. When he died and she took over, she made the room available to everyone. Not many women bother, we have our own traditions. There are some of the ladies who are in business and have started to join in.”

“I bet that didn’t go down well.”

“No,” she said, “But with the likes of Lady Isabella de Vaughn and Catherine Madison joining their ranks, the men have begun to come around. Change is happening; it’s just happening at a glacial speed.”

He shook his head. “There is still so much about this country that I don’t know.”

“Ask me something,” I said. “Maybe I can answer it.”

“Okay,” he replied, “The country is surrounded by France, Italy and Switzerland, so why does it feel so… English?”

I nodded, “Ah. Good question. It’s because of the revolution.”

“The revolution?”

“The French Revolution. Prior to the revolution Merveille was part of France. The first king - he was only a duke then - was owed a favour by Louis XVI. France was in financial crisis, but the duke of Merveille was flush with wealth. In exchange for a large sum of money, Louis XVI granted the duke his kingdom.”

“Okay. But that doesn’t explain why the country seems more like England than France.”

“The duke - now king - was an insightful man. He saw how the monarchy was neglecting the people of France and he saw the trouble coming. In order to keep his own subjects happy, he issued an embargo on all things French. The people were encouraged to speak English and the king fashioned his court on the English court. When the revolution broke out, he had distinguished us from the French monarchy enough that the rebellion left us alone.”

“Smart man,” Drew said.

“He was. Unfortunately, some of his sons were not.”

“But the queen is turning things around.”

“She is.” I grinned at him and then looked beyond him to the marshalling area. “Look. We’re here.”

We entered the arena where tired and grinning riders where milling around as the grooms came to take care of the horses. I slid from Filigree’s saddle and handed her reins off to one of the grooms. A fierce hand locked around my elbow to the point of pain and a harsh whisper was in my ear.

“Where the hell have you been?” Lord Cameron hissed.

“Remove your hand from the lady,” Drew growled.

“Excuse me?” Lord Cameron sneered. “This is none of your business. Run along.”

“I said, remove your hand from the lady,” Drew growled again, “or I will remove it for you.”

Fire snapped in Drew’s eyes and the grip on my arm lessened but didn’t leave entirely.

“I need to speak to my fiancée,” Lord Cameron said haughtily. “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I mind. The lady had a fall and may be injured so get your hands off her so the medic can have a look.”

His hand sprang open and I rubbed the spot where he’d held me.

“Is that true?” Lord Cameron asked. His face was flushed with anger and his fists tight at his side.

“Yes, I fell. Which was why we were the last ones in. Mr. Taylor was kind enough to assist me and make sure I got back safely and without further incident.”

“As her fiancé, I would have thought that you would be the one to ride with her and make sure she was okay.”

“I was riding with the Duke of Monterey.”

“Of course you were,” Drew said, looking down on Lord Cameron with a condescending smirk. “Meanwhile your fiancé was lying in a ditch.”

“I-ah-I mean to say-ah—”

“Save it,” Drew said and then stalked off.

I wanted to cheer for him but I was also disappointed that he walked off without me.

“Come Jeanette,” Lord Cameron said, “Let’s have a medic look you over. You’ll still be all right for the ball tonight, won’t you?”

I grimaced. He didn’t care about whether I would be well enough. He only cared if he would get a chance to join the men in the cigar room. I huffed out a sigh. This was going to be my life, no use complaining about it now.