“Palda Deo,” he muttered. Thank God. He stepped away from Henry. “Thank you for your kind hospitality, Norfolk. I will see myself out.” And with that, he reached his hand for Jacleen. She was reluctant to take it, so he gestured with his fingers that was what she was to do, then gripped her small hand in his.

Henry made another sound of disbelief, then bellowed, “You can’t just walk out of here with one of my servants!”

“She’s not a servant—she’s a slave,” Leo said.

Henry stepped into Leo’s path.

Leo groaned. “I really rather hoped we might avoid this,” he said, but he knew that he would not avoid what was coming. Henry took a swing and landed it squarely on Leo’s jaw. An explosion of pain blinded him for a moment, but by some miracle, he didn’t topple over.

He let go Jacleen’s hand and swung back, connecting with Henry’s chest, and followed that with a slap upside his head. Henry came at him with both hands, but before he could put them around Leo’s neck, one of the maids raced into the kitchen.

“Your Grace!” she cried, arms flailing. “It’s time!”

Henry did not go to his wife at once but bellowed more things after Leo and Jacleen, mainly about how Leo would never be welcome in Britain again. The poor Weslorian girl was trembling so hard that he worried she’d collapse. But then Henry had seemed to decide he best go meet his child, and the bellowing ceased.

Leo hurried down a very long hall until Jacleen asked in a voice scarcely above a whisper if he meant to go out, for he was going deeper into the castle. “Then if you would be so kind as to direct me to the service entrance,” he said. Jacleen pointed in the direction they’d come. Which meant they needed to retrace their steps through the kitchen. With a groan, Leo pulled her along behind him. He avoided eye contact with the cook, who was, oddly enough, still standing in the very spot they’d left her.

At last they emerged from the castle into a service courtyard, and there, just as he knew they would be, were Kadro and Artur. They were on horseback, and in between them was a saddled horse without a rider.

And quite unexpectedly, there was also a young lad. He spoke to Jacleen in Weslorian, and she turned a panicked look to Leo. “My brother.”

“Your brother?”

Before he could think what to do, a sudden burst from the kitchen door startled them all. It was the footman who had witnessed the altercation in the kitchen. He had a cloth bundle of some sort, which he tossed to the boy. To Jacleen, he said, “Godspeed,” and disappeared back inside.

None of this was in Leo’s plans. He didn’t really have plans, but this was not what he’d anticipated, and it produced such anxiety in him that he thought his heart might give out. But there was no time to wait for that. They had to move. Kadro and Artur had not expected Jacleen or the boy, but when Leo told Kadro to put her before him in the saddle, he did as he was commanded without question. Artur lifted the lad up behind him, and Leo took the third horse.

Leo did not miss the look shared between his two loyal guards. They thought the worst of him, he supposed. He could hardly blame them. Through the years, they’d had to peel him up off floors and drag him out of beds. They knew what sort of sot he was on a normal day and no doubt they thought this was a drunken shenanigan.

But today was not a normal day. On the one end of it, he’d had those few stolen moments with Caroline that still lingered in his blood. On the other end of it, he had a frightened Weslorian girl and her brother, who surely thought they were being dragged off to an even worse situation. And in between those ends, he’d hardly had a drop.

He took Jacleen and her brother to Cressidian.

Cressidian met him at the door of his house in a dressing gown. He took one look at Jacleen, and then the lad, and said to Leo, “That’s three now, Highness.”

“I realize this is an imposition, sir, but I—”

Cressidian interrupted him by throwing his hand up and pointing down the hall. “Go,” he said to Jacleen and her brother.

Jacleen looked with alarm at Leo, then took her brother’s hand and walked uncertainly in the direction he pointed.

Cressidian glared at Leo. “I need money for their keep.”

“More money?” Leo asked, surprised. “I should think what I’ve given you thus far should suffice.”

“You think wrong, Highness. And if you don’t want to pay me fairly for their keep, I think the Weslorian ambassador would be interested in what you are doing.”

Leo arched a brow. “Beg your pardon, but are you extorting me?”

“Call it what you like. I’m just asking for their keep.”

Leo sighed. He looked at the grand house, at the marble floors and gold-plated fixtures, the crystal chandeliers. Mr. Cressidian was a very wealthy man. “I’ll have my secretary arrange a stipend.”

“A hundred pounds per head,” Mr. Cressidian said.

Leo bristled. “They are not cattle, they are human beings.”

Mr. Cressidian shrugged. “All the same to me.”

So now Leo had a castle, could hear his chickens behind the hotel, had added a young boy he’d not expected to his improbable rescue mission, was paying a very wealthy man one hundred pounds for each of them, and half the town was avoiding him altogether. He would have quite a lot of explaining to do when he returned to Helenamar.

But he still had three more women to rescue. That was going to prove to be difficult because all of Leo’s invitations had dried up. Even the gentlemen who had greeted him each day in the lobby of the Clarendon Hotel avoided him now.

He read about the parties happening around him in Honeycutt’s Gazette, parties he could no longer attend.

He was reading about one now, as it happened, and he lowered his paper to look at Josef over the top of it. “Not a single invitation?” he asked again.

“None, Your Highness.”

Leo shifted uncomfortably. There had been a time in his life here that a party wasn’t anything at all to write about in the papers if he didn’t attend it. “What of Hawke?” Leo asked glumly. “Has he responded to my invitation to dine?”

Josef was pointedly silent.

Leo had guessed Beck would be unhappy with what had happened at Arundel, but this was more than he’d anticipated. His friend had disappeared from the earth. But Caroline was still flitting from salon to salon, apparently. According to the gazette, some lady was wearing a dress she’d made, and the sleeves were unique and all the rage now.

Leo was completely obsessed with any mention of Caroline in that gazette. When he wasn’t thinking what to do with his three wards, and how to reach Rasa, he was thinking about her. He even felt unusual pangs of jealousy at the mention of suitors. Bloody hell. What a mess he’d made for himself. He couldn’t even get her brother to respond to his invitation.

He sighed and glanced at his secretary. “Well, Josef, I suppose you might inquire of the hotel if one of my chickens might be made ready for us this evening, as I’ve no place to dine.”

“Ambassador Redbane has asked for a moment, Your Highness. He has some dispatches from Alucia.”

“Oh,” Leo said, perking up a bit. “Is he here?”

“Je.”

“Bring him,” he said, eager to have some company.

Ambassador Redbane, a jovial gentleman, hailed from the southern border of Alucia—the wine region, where people were known for their hospitality.

Redbane greeted Leo enthusiastically, which gave Leo a glimmer of hope that news of him hadn’t reached into every corner. The ambassador had very little for him, mainly a letter from his mother the queen, which said very little. “Not a word from Bas or Eliza?”

Redbane shook his head.

Leo studied him. “Do you know what I think, Redbane? I think we ought to have a party and celebrate my time here in England before it draws to a close.”

For the first time since he’d arrived, Redbane’s smile dimmed. He looked down at his leather pouch in which he carried the official correspondence and winced.

“Oh dear,” Leo said. “What’s that look?”

Redbane sighed. “I would be remiss,” he said carefully, “if I were to allow you to believe that such a gathering would be...well attended.”

“Is that so,” Leo said. He sniffed back a wave of offense. He was still a bloody prince, wasn’t he?

“I mean no offense, Highness,” Redbane hastened to assure him.

“Offense taken,” Leo muttered.

Redbane’s face began to pinken. “It, ah...it has to do with what some perceive as your proclivities.”

“My proclivities? I have no proclivities, Redbane. I am proclivitless.”

“With housemaids and...women of the night.” Redbane whispered the last part. “And...and it has been suggested that perhaps you should return to Alucia.”

Leo stiffened. “Women of the night, Redbane? You mean prostitutes, for heaven’s sake. We are grown men here.”

Redbane turned redder. He cleared his throat. But it wasn’t this poor man’s fault. It was solely on Leo’s shoulders, and he couldn’t let the ambassador suffer any longer. He waved a hand at him. “Pay me no heed, sir. I’ve heard the same. Has the king heard the rumors, as well?”

“I can’t say for certain,” Redbane said carefully. “But I would suspect that he has. I have received word from the foreign secretary that you are to depart for Alucia as soon as is reasonably possible.” He handed him a folded vellum, sealed in wax and stamped with the official signet of the king of Alucia.

Leo took the vellum from him. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he said with a wry smile. He didn’t break the seal right away. “Fine. But there is something I must do before I leave England.” Leo abruptly stood up. “Will you send Josef to me?”