Free To Wed a Wicked Prince by Jane Feather

if that closed the conversation. “May I borrow your brown velvet pelisse, the one with the gray trimming? It goes so well with my gray silk, and at least I won’t go blue with cold when the sun goes down.”
    “Yes, of course,” Aurelia said readily. Until Cornelia had broken up the trio by marrying Harry Bonham, the three women had shared clothes and accessories as a matter of necessity. They’d learned that clever adjustments to a limited wardrobe could expand that wardrobe quite considerably. “And you should wear the high-crowned gray velvet hat, and the gray kid gloves.”
    “Exactly so.” Livia nodded her satisfaction. “Now, could you bear to have just one vase of flowers in here? I think those golden dahlias and tawny chrysanthemums would look lovely on the pier table.”
    “Yes, they would,” Aurelia agreed, getting to her feet. “It isn’t that I don’t love flowers, I do, but…”
    “In moderation,” Livia finished for her. “I’m not sure how much the Russian prince knows about moderation.”
    Aurelia said hesitantly, “Probably more than he lets on, Liv. I just have the impression that there might be more to him than he’s letting us see.”
    Livia looked at her, her head tilted to one side, her gaze quizzical. “Isn’t that true of pretty well everyone, Ellie? If I thought what I’d seen was all there was to see of Alexander Prokov, then I would have no interest in him whatsoever.”
    “You could be playing with fire.”
    “I could,” Livia agreed. “And if I burn my fingers, it will be with full knowledge.”
    Aurelia nodded. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I must go to Franny. I promised to take her for a walk. Are you in for luncheon?”
    Livia grimaced. “Letitia Oglethorpe has inveigled me into a small ladies’ luncheon to discuss the latest on-dits.”
    “For heaven’s sake, Liv…why did you accept?” Letitia was their bête noire.
    “Accidentally,” Livia said with a groan. “The invitation was in a pile I was answering and I found I’d accepted it without realizing who it was from. And by then Jemmy had taken it to the post and it was too late…I could plead a headache…” She brightened momentarily, then sighed. “No, I can’t. Not if I’m going to walk in the park with the prince a few hours later. Someone’s bound to see me and mention it.”
    “Well, good luck. I’m glad she didn’t invite me.”
    “She would have done if she’d known you’d be back in town,” Livia pointed out. “But you could always just come.” Her smile was mischievous. “You know how delighted she’d be to see you…and just think of all the questions she’ll ask about Nell and Harry.”
    “No, thank you,” Aurelia said firmly. “I’ll see you later.”
     
    “So, tell us about Prince Prokov, Livia?” Lilly Devries leaned forward in her chair, her eyes bright with curiosity. “A most handsome man, I thought. Where did you meet him?”
    “Oh, intrigue,” crowed Letitia Oglethorpe. “Is this a new man about town, Livia? I don’t know the name.”
    Livia sighed. She’d guessed this would happen as soon as she’d seen that Lilly was one of the select group of ladies at Letitia’s luncheon. “I don’t really know anything about him. I met him at the duchess of Clarington’s ball the other night and danced once with him,” she said, hoping that an assumption of careless indifference to the subject might put them off pursuing it.
    No such luck, of course. Letitia had an unfailing nose for sniffing out hidden morsels of gossip. “Well, is he handsome?” she demanded. “Handsome and rich?”
    “I have no idea whether he has money or not,” Livia stated a little sharply. “I don’t go around asking strangers the state of their financial affairs…rather vulgar, I would have thought.”
    It worked to a certain extent; Letitia pouted and turned her shoulder to Livia, demanding of Lilly instead, “Tell me about him. Where does he come from? How long