Royal Revels Read Online Free PDF

message from the prince, however. Is he back at his Pavilion?” There was a hungry gleam in those eyes.
    “No, ma’am, he is still in London. And my message, I am afraid, must be delivered to Lady Gilham personally. When might I see her?”
    “I don’t believe I caught the name, sir?” the woman said, making a pointed, inquisitive perusal of her caller. In fact, she held his card in her hand, but the news that he was here from the prince had upset her to such a degree she forgot what was on the card. She had observed the quality of the jacket, however, the expensive emerald ring glimmering on his finger, and the haughty manner that bespoke the aristocracy. She could also see quite clearly that he was extremely handsome, such a young gentleman as might amuse Lady Gilham.
    “Belami,” he answered simply.
    “Pray be seated, milord,” she said, peering at the card.
    Her manner softened to welcome. “I’ll send up and see if Lady Gilham is feeling better. It was only a touch of megrim. Company will cheer her up. This business with the prince has been hard on her,” she explained with an air of offense, but somehow she managed to imply that the offense had not touched the caller.
    Then she called into the hall to summon the servant instead of using the bellpull. Mrs. Morton poured him a glass of wine, and they chatted about inconsequential matters till Lady Gilham had been sent for and finally appeared at the doorway a quarter of an hour later.
    Belami arose and stared in amazement at the vision before him. She was only a girl, not much older than twenty, and she was quite startlingly beautiful. Something about her reminded him immediately of Deirdre and engaged his sympathy for that reason. Her hair was dark as night and styled simply. She had a soft, doe-eyed look about her and her pale cheeks were flushed with nervousness.
    Her toilette was simple—a dark gown with a strand of pearls at the neck and no other jewelry except her wedding band. She had a girlish figure, small-waisted but full-bosomed. She hesitated a moment at the doorway before tripping in, looking fitfully from her companion to her caller.
    “Good evening,” she said softly, and smiled. There was a sad, poignant quality in the smile, as though it were wrung from her at high cost. Almost as though she had forgotten how to smile.
    Mrs. Morton performed the introduction. “Lord Belami has a message for you from the Prince Regent,” she added with a meaningful look at the young woman.
    “A private message,” he added, emphasizing his words with a pointed look at the companion.
    “Oh, don’t leave me!” Lady Gilham exclaimed, her white hands fluttering helplessly.
    “I shall be right in the next room, my dear. You must not judge all gentlemen by your most recent and unhappy encounter.” With this little jibe, the dame sailed from the room, and Lady Gilham turned a frightened gaze on her caller.
    “Won’t you—that is—pray be seated, milord,” she said nervously.
    She perched on the edge of an upholstered chair and began pleating the material of her skirt with twitching fingers. Her eyes were downcast, with long lashes fanning her cheeks.
    Belami smiled and attempted to put her at her ease. “I’m not going to bite you, you know,” he said playfully.
    “What is the message?’’ she asked without any alleviation of her nervous state, but at least she lifted her eyes to his face.
    “It concerns the letters you received. I am directed to buy them from you.”
    She drew a sigh of relief. “Thank God!” she exclaimed. “Do you have the money?”
    “I have one thousand pounds,” he said quietly.
    “But that’s not enough! We need five thousand. Five thousand was the price!” she exclaimed, a worried frown forming on her pale brow.
    “I’m afraid that is the price, ma’am. You must know five thousand is exorbitant,” he added, carefully watching her reaction.
    She sat silently a moment, thinking. Then she lifted her head and