Livia lifted her chin. "I do not blush easily." It was the truth. She spent her early teenage years in a brothel.

Right then, Bella’s mother and the baroness arrived.

"Oh my God. You’re smiling, Bella." Her mother gasped, rushing over to her.

"The French tutor here is quite interesting," Bella said.

Her mother turned at once, as if Bella had announced the tutor had performed a miracle, which, considering the state Bella had been in lately, was not entirely untrue.

The older woman walked straight back to Livia and wrapped her in a warm embrace.

"Oh..." Livia gasped, stiffening at first. "Okay..."

The hug was sudden, tight, and deeply maternal. Livia stood there awkwardly for one ridiculous second then gave in and returned it. It was the sort of comfort Livia had not felt since her mother had been alive.

"Thank you," Bella’s mother whispered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

Livia’s throat tightened. She had done nothing, really. Only spoken. "It’s quite alright," she said, laughing awkwardly as the woman finally released her. "We all need a little smile every now and then."

"Do not make a fuss, Mother." Bella said.

Livia turned quickly to the baroness before the moment could become too tender for her. "My lady, I was just about to leave. I came to inform you."

Baroness Cresswell smiled, one hand resting over her rounded belly. She looked heavily tired. "The girls speak highly of you," she said. "Thank you."

"They are quite lovely children," Livia replied. "They learn quickly. Lady Anne has a good ear, Lady Margaret is very determined, Lady Dorcas is more curious about French princes and the youngest..."

"Mary," the baroness supplied.

"Yes. Mary is quite the delight."

"I must say," Livia added, "you have done a great job considering the number."

The baroness laughed in exhaustion.

Bella’s mother sighed. "Six girls and another child coming."

"Baron Cresswell will not give me a break until he gets a son," the baroness said, rubbing her belly wearliy. "Doesn’t matter that we have a house full of children already, or that their dowries keep accumulating like unpaid debts sent directly from God."

Livia smiled. "Girls are blessings too."

"They are," the baroness said warmly. "Expensive blessings."

The Cresswells seemed like good people. Warm people. So why would they give their daughter to the evil king?

Lady Bella had lost a child. Her eyes were still swollen from crying. Her grief sat close to the surface, waiting for one wrong word to spill over again. And where was the king? Not here. Not holding her. Not consoling her. Not even pretending to be a man with a heart.

He had simply shipped her off for her mother to deal with.

"Your carriage is here," the baroness said, touching Livia’s arm gently. "We will see you the day after next, right?"

"Of course. I will be here. Thank you, my lady." She curtsied.

The baroness smiled warmly. "The girls will be delighted. Mary has already declared she will speak only French at breakfast."

Livia laughed softly, then turned to Lady Bella. "You will be here too, no?"

Bella looked up. Surprise passed across her face, as if she had not expected to be included in the question. "I will be."

Livia gave her a warm smile, adjusted her veil, and headed out to return to Kingsmere. The carriage ride back felt different from the journey there. That morning, she had been nervous, trying to remember her false name, her false history, her proper posture, and all the little rules Richard had given her. Now, she had wages waiting. Work waiting.

For the first time in months, the future did not feel entirely like a door locked from the outside.

******

Meanwhile, Lord Ashcroft was at that moment in Kingsmere, carrying out the king’s orders. He was tired.

No—tired was too gentle a word. He was exhausted down to the bone but the search for Livia had become urgent.

The king was losing it. There was no polite way to dress that truth. Henry was no longer merely restless. He was unraveling. And now suspicion had fixed itself on Richard, of all people.

To order his best friend’s estate searched? To have Kingsmere estate searched for a girl who, by every rule of England, should not matter at all?

A girl who was not noble. She wasn’t English and neither was she anything the court would call important.

Lionel sighed as every single person on the estate lined up. Servants, grooms, maids, cooks, stable boys, laundry women, gardeners, footmen.

Kingsmere’s household stood in a long, confused group, whispering among themselves. Lionel had given the duke as much respect as he could under the circumstances. He had not stormed the house. He had not brought any of the king’s men with him. Richard was still a duke. More than that, he was the king’s closest friend. There were lines one did not cross.

So Lionel had merely ordered the estate guards to bring everyone out. Now, as he walked slowly down the line, studying every face, his patience thinned with every step.

There was no Livia. There was no woman who even remotely matched her description. He was just about to offer his apologies and confirm that everyone had been accounted for when he heard the sound of a horse approaching.

Hooves struck the road hard and fast. Lionel turned. The Duke of Kingsmere rode into view, dust on his boots, his coat dark from travel. As he came closer and saw his entire household standing outside, his confusion deepened.

"Lionel?" Richard called, pulling his horse to a halt. "What... what is this?" His gaze swept over everyone. "What are you doing here?" Richard demanded. "Why is everyone outside?"

Lionel bowed his head slightly. "Your Grace. My apologies, but may we speak privately?"

Richard dismounted, handed the reins to a groom, and led Lionel away from the gathered occupants of the estate.

"Your Grace, I hope you do not take this the wrong way. I beg of you," Lionel began.

Richard’s eyes narrowed. "Lionel, what is going on?"