Was that all, miss?” inquired Libby, pointedly covering her yawn as I climbed back into the coach. I deposited the box containing the gift for His Royal Highness in Libby’s lap and lifted up my mask. I didn’t put it on, I just stared at it. Until a moment ago, I had truly meant to return to the palace. This was not, after all, one of my days off. Tonight, the Prince of Wales and his family dined “in public,” as they did weekly. I needed to be in attendance at table, which meant I needed to allow time for yet another change of clothing. Olivia would also be at the palace with her basket to fetch Guinevere. If I tarried, I’d miss a chance to speak with her, and it was almost as important that I speak to Olivia as it was that I speak with Matthew. But my silent resolve in Matthew’s arms left me restless. I was frantic to know what turning of my uncle’s mind made him so insistent on my marriage. I had to discover the means that would allow me to smash his plan to pieces. Surely it was to do with business.
