"It's unbearable!" Lady Evelyn wrung her hands as she marched up and down the length of a large opulent drawing-room. She whirled around at the silent figure on his back, holding a squirming golden puppy raised in his extended arms. "Edward, please. Are you listening?"

The well-coiffed young man of about twenty tossed a ball across the room to send that boisterous puppy scrambling after it. "Well, best be quick in choosing a husband," he said.

She halted in mid-stride. "Haven't you been listening to anything I've said?"

"Oh, Evie!" came Prince Edward's exasperated exclaim. He took the ball from the boisterous puppy and tossed it across the room again to the little creature's delight. "Darling, I think you've exaggerated the situation a bit, don't you?"

Those words made Evelyn fold her arms in front of her as if to hold herself back from what she wanted to say. "You can send me back, Pembroke, or send me somewhere else of your choosing. I promise to keep out of the way and be of no bother to anyone."

"You're not a bother, dearest. Father and I desire only what's best for you."

"His Majesty-" She took two deep breaths to calm herself before trying again. "Your father, my dear Edward, needn't concern himself. I can be very clever when it comes to looking after myself, you know."

The puppy came charging back, ball in mouth. This time when Edward stood up, he caught the pup by its scruff to hand off to a silent footman. He made sure no eavesdroppers were about before turning to stretch out his arms to Evelyn in the same manner he did the puppy a moment ago.

"My sweet darling, sweet, silly little sister, don't be stupid. Where will you go? What will you do? Ah yes, waste all your resources chasing after ghosts." He tweaked her nose, before tossing himself into a nearby chaise, with a muttered, "women," beneath his breath. His attention soon turned to the day's papers he had previously discarded.

She hung her head. "I can't bear being subjected to more gossip and innuendo--"

The top half of the papers flapped down in a snap. "What's this? Who is gossiping?"

When she saw the storm brewing behind his deep blue eyes, so similar to her own, she chose her next words with great care to keep that legendary temper at bay. "I'm afraid Lady Warwick enjoys hearing her own voice too much. Sometimes she allows her fantasies to get away from her. She's not terribly clever."

Yet, somehow, Lady Warwick's imprudence brought the attention of the frightful Lord Davenport. She shuddered to even think of that man. Not when she could still feel his lips against hers. His tongue--! She shook away that memory and went back to pacing the room again, this time with more force in each step.

"No one listens to that silly cow," Prince Edward declared, tossing the papers aside. "But, if she dares to say anything--"

"She means well," Evelyn was quick to say, though she wasn't certain why she defended that ghastly woman. "I'm so tired of keeping up this pretence. "

"You're too young to be so troubled! Look, forget everything. There are so many diversions here that you won't find anywhere else in the world!"

She plopped herself down on a footstool to rest her cheeks against her raised fists. She mumbled something to herself that the prince couldn't hear, but he ventured a guess.

Prince Edward stood up and beckoned for the young woman to stand with him. He placed his hands on her shoulders before he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her forehead. "Always with the theatrics, Evie," Edward chided her. "Father would love nothing more than to embrace you as his in public. It's impossible while my mother lives. He loves you very much. He will see you well settled. Won't you at least try, for all our sakes?"

"Now if my mother still lives --"

He threw up his hands. "Darling, she is long gone."

"But if you were to make inquiries--"

"Oh Evie, how many times must I tell you to stop with this nonsense! Go marry some frightfully powerful peer or some foreign prince. Not an impoverished one mind. Give him loads of children and be happy. It's what all women want, isn't it?"

"Then, you ought to make my selection for me and be done with it! You seem so certain of what's best for me."

Edward chuckled. "Well, in the meantime, do you need anything? More frocks? Some baubles? Shall I increase your allowance? Now, don't be cross, dear. And I have to admit that I love having you close by so we can see each other almost as much as we want. We can pretend that we're back at Pembroke."

She smiled at the mention of their childhood home. There, two lonely children ran circles around their tutors and governess. They were so inseparable they even dressed in each other's clothes for a laugh. Those wonderful days felt like a lifetime ago, so far removed from this grey, crowded, and forbidding place.

He brightened at her wistful expression. "Come now. It's not all terrible, then. Tonight we'll take in an opera. The papers have been raving about the new production of Dido and Aeneas. We'll go rip it to shreds. Wouldn't that be fun?"

She dropped her head against his shoulder. "I have missed you, dear Edward. But, won't there be talk if we're seen out together?"

"To be out with my own sister?" Edward declared with astonishment. He appeared to have forgotten their relationship was not public knowledge and thus the cause of Evelyn's dilemma. She decided not to remind him. Instead, she let him grab ahold of her hands as he looked her over with exaggerated pride. "Look at you. How beautiful you've grown! To think you were once such a horrid little thing. Those bushy dark brows were ghastly, remember?"

She couldn't help but laugh.

"I should think all the eligible bachelors must be clawing over each other for a place on your dance card," he continued.

Lord Davenport's striking face flashed before her. The memory alone was enough to make her shiver. She remembered again how he looked at her, how his muscular arms felt around her as he bent down to kiss her. She could still taste his lips...

"Oh, Edward," Evelyn thought to herself. "You have no idea the danger I'm in!"