A Princess by Christmas (A Royal Wedding #3) - Julia London Page 0,3

attempt to relieve the tight binding of her corset.

“It’s supposed to be tight! Waistlines are all the thing. Not that I care a whit for mine.” She laughed—of course she did—because it hardly mattered what Eliza wore. She looked regal, as if she’d been born to be a queen instead of the daughter of a justice. Eliza was fuller than when she’d left London, but then again, she’d married and given birth in the meantime. To Hollis’s biased eye, her sister was gorgeous. Her life was gorgeous. She had a wonderful, handsome husband who adored her. She had a cherub of a daughter. She had a palace and servants and jewels and gowns, and would one day sit on a throne. Eliza had always been enviously pretty to her younger sister, but since bringing baby Cecelia into the world, she seemed practically to glow. Is that what love and companionship and motherhood did for a woman? If so, Hollis yearned for it terribly.

“I beg your pardon—will you not greet me?”

Hollis would recognize that male voice anywhere and turned around. She’d known Lord Beckett Hawke all her life. Beck, the older brother of Hollis and Eliza’s dearest friend, Caroline, and the closest thing to a brother Hollis had ever had. He was insufferable and never tired of telling her what to do, but he also loved her and supported her when she needed him the most.

Just recently, an elderly uncle had passed away with no surviving heirs, and Beck had been made an earl. He was now Lord Iddesleigh. He had a new estate that was several hours from London and surrounded by nothing but a village that Beck had privately proclaimed only slightly larger than a horse turd.

He was the only one in the crowded sitting room who was actually sitting, enthroned on a red velvet chair, one leg crossed over the other like an old grandfather calmly surveying his brood. He tilted his head and examined Hollis. “How lovely you look. Come here and tell me what you’ve been about. You never call anymore, Hollis. There was a time I couldn’t rid my house of you, and now I can hardly entice you to come round at all.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” she asked, laughing. “I dined at your house not three days past. Why are you sitting there as if you’re ready to receive your tenants’ rents?”

Beck glanced around him. “Is there a rule that says guests of the palace are not allowed to sit?”

“I never understood the point of having so many fine furnishings if they’re not to be used,” Eliza said.

“Hollis, darling!”

Beck’s sister, Caroline, now Lady Chartier, as she had married Prince Sebastian’s brother, Leopold, was sailing through the many men to greet Hollis, her arms outstretched. Prince Leopold strolled along behind her.

Caroline caught Hollis’s hands and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

“Hollis,” Prince Leopold said, and took her hand from Caroline. “I thought you’d gone missing.” He brought her hand to his lips. “You look very well, as always.” He smiled fondly.

Hollis curtsied. “Thank you, Your Highness. You are very kind to say so. And may I say that country living certainly agrees with the two of you.” She’d spent a lot of time with the prince and Caroline in Sussex. The Hawke family seat stood just outside the village of Bibury, and that is where Caroline, and eventually Leopold, had retreated after what everyone said was London’s greatest scandal...until some four months later when a new scandal came along to claim the title.

Hollis and Eliza called the scandal Caroline’s “courtship.”

But really, no one had believed that Caroline and Leopold would survive as much as a fortnight in the country, so far from society. The two of them separately had been the biggest prizes on guest lists for the longest time. Until they weren’t.

It was impossible to believe, but the two most unlikely people in all of Britain had settled in the country and discovered, after years of being seen at every social event, that rural life, buckskins, and animals suited them. Caroline said it was peaceful and bucolic, unlike their lives in London. Beck said that was an invented excuse, and the truth was that they still weren’t allowed in most Mayfair salons. “Scandals are slow to die,” he’d said to Hollis. “Best you not put yourself in the middle of one, darling.”

Caroline stood back to admire Hollis’s gown. “Oh, it’s lovely, isn’t it? I knew it would be. I