Always a Princess by Alice Gaines Page B

season.
    “The duke,” one of the men in the throng declared. “We must inform the duke.”
    “Do that, Aldensham,” Wesley said. “And someone bring my mother a glass of sherry.”
    “Brandy,” Lady Farnham corrected.
    “Brandy!” Wesley declared. “Now, try to calm yourself, Mother.”
    “More easily said than done. You didn’t stumble on that dastardly creature. He might have been in the room right before me.” She stopped, and a look of horror crossed her face. “He might have still been there—hiding behind the curtains or somewhere. Ye gods, he might have been watching me.”
    Good Lord, the woman was putting herself into a perfect fit. Eve walked to her and took her hand. “Please not to perturb yourself, Lady Farnham.”
    “He might have killed me. Struck me dead right on the spot.”
    “He’s a thief, Mother, not a murderer,” Wesley said. “Please don’t work yourself into a state.”
    “What do you know of the Orchid Thief, Philip? I might have been staring into the blood-red eyes of a killer. Looking straight into the fangs of Death himself.”
    “Mon Dieu,” Eve said, more to shut the woman up than anything. “But you were not so, were you, my lady?”
    “No,” Lady Farnham said. “But I might have been. Oh, where is that brandy?”
    A footman appeared with a healthy dose of liquor in a glass on a brass salver. The duke came right behind the footman, his face ashen.
    “I must inform you all that we’ve been robbed,” the duke said. “This very evening. During the ball.”
    Another gasp went up.
    “You see?” Lady Farnham declared. “I know when I’ve faced down a ruthless killer and when I haven’t. Oh, it’s all too horrible for words.”
    “I’m afraid I’ve had to send for the constable,” the duke said. “I imagine he’ll want to talk to everyone here.”
    Not the constable. She’d never had to face the constable before.
    Only barely aware of what she was doing, Eve reached out and touched Wesley’s arm. He took her hand in his and smiled ever so faintly, giving an almost imperceptible shake of his head that seemed meant to give her courage. The gesture might have warmed her heart, if his asinine plan to steal the Wonder of Basutoland hadn’t landed them in this mess in the first place. Still, she couldn’t quite bring herself to pull her fingers from the comforting grip of his.
    The dowager duchess appeared by the duke’s side, and the family resemblance became immediately apparent. They both looked as though displeasure was their permanent state. Only now, the lady’s expression held some triumph around the eyes, too, as though she found nothing more satisfying than a good catastrophe.
    “My wife?” the duke asked his mother.
    “Taken to her bed,” the duchess said. “Her maid’s given her a potion.”
    “Good,” the duke replied. “We’ll wait for the constable, and then I’m afraid I’ll have to end the ball.”
    “Not Chumley,” the duchess said.
    “Yes, Constable Chumley, Mother.”
    “I won’t have that man in my house,” the duchess said. “He’s an idiot.”
    “Unpleasant, but necessary, Mother. Please resign yourself to it,” Kent said.
    “Oh, I say, yes,” Wesley agreed. “Nothing better to liven up a party than Chumley and his perturbations.”
    Eve pulled her hand from his. Why on earth she’d left it there so long was a mystery. She did her best to glower at him out of the corner of her eye, but he ignored the look.
    “Must I really be subjected to an inquisition?” Lady Farnham asked. She took a swig of her brandy. “After everything I’ve been through tonight?”
    “So not necessary,” Eve said, bending toward Lady Farnham. “Allow me to escort to home the lady so that she will not be unfortunate.”
    “What a dear child. And such good sense, especially for someone from my husband’s side of the family.” Lady Farnham’s eyes narrowed, and she dropped her hand. “Where is the man? This is all his fault. If