Free To Wed a Wicked Prince by Jane Feather Page B

upstairs.
    Half an hour later Livia examined her image in the cheval glass in her bedchamber and decided that if she wished to make a favorable impression on the Russian prince, then she was certainly going to succeed. The brown velvet pelisse had a richly luxuriant glow to it that set off her black curls, and the gray fur trimming brought out a faint bluish tint to her gray eyes. The high-crowned gray velvet hat gave her height and an air of elegance, nicely matched by gray buttoned boots and long gray kid gloves.
    With a nod of satisfaction she headed downstairs to get Ellie’s opinion. “So, will I do?” she asked as she whisked into the parlor.
    Aurelia turned from the secretaire, laying down her pen. “Oh, yes,” she said at once. “Very soignée, Liv. Very elegant.”
    “Whom are you writing to?”
    “Nell. I was wondering whether she and Harry had decided to come back to London before Christmas. She hadn’t made up her mind when I left Ringwood the other day.”
    “I can’t wait to see her…well, all of them.” Livia perched on the arm of the sofa, arranging her skirts around her. “It seems ages since they eloped and her letters have been few and far between.”
    “That’s the fault of the mail service,” Aurelia pointed out. “And if you’d seen Harry’s house way up in the Highlands you’d see the difficulties. Isolated is certainly the word for it.”
    “I suppose so,” Livia agreed. “And it’s what Harry wanted. Long enough out of the social circuit for the old scandal about his wife’s death to die in the gossip mill. His instincts were right. It was on everyone’s tongue for a few weeks after he married Nell, but no one ever mentions it now. I doubt it’ll rear its head once they’re back in town.
    “But still,” she added reflectively, “six months is a long time…the children will have grown out of recognition. Thank goodness Stevie didn’t suffer any lasting effects from the kidnapping.”
    “No, he doesn’t really seem to remember much about it at all,” Aurelia said. “It was over so quickly, of course, and I think Nigel did try to reassure him throughout the ordeal that it was all going to be all right in the end.”
    Livia looked a little skeptical. “How is Cousin Nigel these days?”
    “A reformed character.” Aurelia shook her head. “I don’t understand what could have possessed him to gamble so high and get into so much trouble. He’s not a fool.”
    “No, but he’s young,” Livia said. “And he was running with such a wild, fast set, all much plumper in the pocket than he is. It’s hard to acknowledge that you can’t keep up.”
    “True enough,” her friend agreed. “Anyway, Nigel’s back at Oxford, apparently concentrating so intently on his studies that his tutors are now worried he’ll go into a decline. Isn’t that absurd?”
    Livia laughed and then turned at the sound of the door knocker. “Ah, that will be my escort to the park.” She jumped up. “Everything in order?”
    Aurelia looked her over and nodded. “Absolutely perfect. You look enchanting.”
    “Well, thank you kindly, ma’am.” Livia dropped a mock curtsy and went to the door as the knocker sounded again. “I’d better open the door.”
    She hurried across the hall, waving away Morecombe, who shuffled slowly from the kitchen. “It’s all right, Morecombe, I’ll get it.” She pulled open the front door. “Good afternoon, Prince Prokov.”
    “Good afternoon, Livia…and please would you drop this prince nonsense,” he said, sweeping his hat in a flourishing bow. “It grows irksome.” He straightened and continued before she could summon the words to respond to this. “Ah, you’re not dressed for riding. Enchanting though you look.”
    “You said nothing about riding,” Livia protested, taking in his immaculate buckskin riding britches, pristine white stock, and gleaming boots. “I thought we were going to walk. Besides, I don’t have a horse. I didn’t