Silver in the Blood Read Online Free PDF

covering her hand with one of his enormous paws. “I promise you, no one is keeping you locked up to hurt you. We are merely . . . planning many things. There is to be a big celebration for you and LouLou, when she arrives, which is why I haven’t been to see you. We were at the estate planning the celebration.
    â€œBut the family . . . business . . . has also suffered some upsets recently, and many of the uncles and older cousins are working on that. I am very sorry that you feel neglected.” He gave her a one-sided smile. The waitress nearly dropped her tray, and even Dacia found herself smiling back. Even with the impossible hair, Radu was quite the charmer and he looked like he knew it, too.
    â€œThe princess must never be neglected!” he cried. “So we must find a way to entertain her at once! What is your will, Princess?” He tried to bow despite the fact that he was sitting at a table, and knocked over his glass of lemonade.
    Dacia shrieked and jumped to her feet before the wave could reach her, throwing her napkin at it to try and stop its progress as it ran over the side of the little marble-topped table. Radu swore in Romanian, leaped up, knocked over his chair, and nearly unseated the man behind him, who also swore. Dacia started laughing helplessly. Radu turned bright red, handed far too much money to the waitress, and then hurried Dacia off the terrace and onto the street.
    â€œOh, my parasol!” She started to turn back.
    â€œI’ll buy you a new one,” Radu said, still blushing.
    â€œThat parasol was a gift from Lou,” Dacia said. “Bring it to me right now, silly boy!”
    â€œAllow me, miss,” said a smooth voice in perfect English.
    Dacia turned and saw the most handsome young man she had ever seen in her life. He was holding out her parasol and smiling at her. His teeth were white and perfect, and he had black eyes, lashes Dacia would have killed for, and curling dark hair that brushed the collar of his impeccably tailored Savile Row suit. He smelled like money and masculinity.
    The waitress, on the other side of the little terrace fence, was no longer looking at Radu, but gazing at the young man as though she were about to fall into a swoon, a reaction that Dacia understood completely.
    Dacia reached out a shaking hand and took her parasol from him. As she did, her fingers brushed against his. Despite the gloves they both wore, a charge of electricity ran through Dacia and she nearly did swoon.
    But strangely enough Radu growled, and the hair on the back of Dacia’s neck stood on end. She was about to look at her cousin, sensing the tension radiating from him, but the beautiful young man laughed and Dacia’s whole attention returned to him.
    â€œWhat a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Dacia,” he said. “I am Prince Mihai, and I know precisely how to entertain you here in Bucharest.”
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    THE DIARY OF MISS MARIA LOUISA NEULANDER
    20 May 1897
    I never have been much for keeping a diary. I know that Dacia is faithful in her recording of each day’s events, but then, Dacia’s life has always been much more exciting than mine, even though we are always together. Perhaps it is in how she views the world? I often fear that someone will find my diary, read it, and then I shall be humiliated. But no matter. I must tell someone, and I have already sent a letter to Dacia, but who knows when it shall reach her?
    Perhaps I shouldn’t have written to Dacia, for now I begin to think that I was mistaken, and she will think that I am the silliest person on earth. But if I am not mistaken, does this mean that I am going mad? First I am repeatedly hounded by That Awful Man, no matter where I am, though no one else seems to ever see him. Then I am surrounded by the smell of lilacs, when there are no lilacs in sight. Perhaps it is a popular perfume here in Paris? Yet I smell it when I am alone, or out on the street, and never in