Veiled in Blue

It is up to the Emperors of London to protect the throne—without risking their hearts…

Governess Eve Merton would have fallen into serious trouble on her walk home if a handsome stranger had not stopped to help her. But when Mr. Vernon gives her a lift on his horse, he makes no secret of his attraction. As a well brought-up young lady, Eve does her best not to notice, but when he sets about courting her, she knows she’s in trouble. For she has a secret: she is the daughter of a deposed king, which means not only is she without a dowry, but also that her life is in danger…

Little does Eve know that Mr. Vernon has secrets of his own. In truth, his name is Julius, Lord Winterton, and he’s well aware that Eve is the offspring of the Old Pretender. In order to save his sister, he must convince Eve to wed—though he wants nothing to do with love. But as the two grow closer and an attempt is made on Eve’s life, Julius may realize that fighting his heart’s true desire is a battle most pleasurably surrendered…

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Emperors of London

Rogue In Red Velvet

Temptation Has Green Eyes

Danger Wears White

Reckless In Pink

Veiled In Blue

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

An Emperors of London Novel

Lynne Connolly

LYRICAL PRESS

Kensington Publishing Corp.

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Copyright © 2016 by Lynne Connolly

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First Electronic Edition: October 2016

eISBN-13: 1978-1-61650-574-5

eISBN-10: -61650-574-5

First Print Edition: October 2016

ISBN-13: 978-1-60183-570-3

ISBN-10: 1-60183-570-1

Printed in the United States of America

To Kathryn Falk, friend and mentor. I have found delight in your company, so I hope you find some delight in this.

Before 1753, marriages were irregular and difficult to prove. That, and the story of a previous King of England, Edward IV, brought me to this idea, that the Old Pretender, the son of James II, had a clandestine marriage and a family unknown to history. His official marriage resulted in two sons, before his wife left him to live in a convent, and his history of melancholia, probably a severe form of depression, led his advisors and friends to look for distractions for him.

Thus I came upon Maria. In my version, The Old Pretender went back to her after the failure of his marriage. They were bound to have children. These books are their stories, but also the stories of the Emperors of London, a powerful, wealthy family similar to the Howards or the Cavendishes.

This is a “what if” story that grew more plausible as I researched it!

1. Chapter 1
   

Julius picked up the buffer and passed it over his perfectly polished nails before glancing at his valet. “I’ll eat in an hour. Tell the innkeeper to serve the meal here.” He put the pad next to the paring knife, absently noting their perfect alignment.

“Pardon,
monseigneur
?”

Julius patiently repeated the information in French. Whatever had possessed him to employ a French valet?

The dapper man bowed and smiled. “
Oui
, my lord.” At least he’d learned that much, although Julius preferred his servants to address him simply as “sir.”

Someone scratched at the door, and Lamaire went to answer it.

He returned with two letters, which he handed to Julius, carefully avoiding personal contact. Julius took them with a nod. He picked up the knife from the dressing table and broke the seal on the first one. It was from his mother.

Winterton,

Your father and I are expecting your presence shortly, and we trust your visit to your cousin will take no longer than a week or two. This is merely to inform you that your sister and your daughter arrived at the house today and are well. This time I must insist that Helena remain with me. You have not employed a companion for her on a regular basis, as you promised to do. Neither have you remarried. I cannot allow my daughter to live with you if you are unable to offer her the protection she deserves.

I have also invited some other of our acquaintances, and I am sure you will wish to meet them. Lady McComyn, Lady Murtagh, Lady Burton, and several others will be there with their families.

Yours, etc
.

Julius swore viciously. Red rage filled his heart and burned in his veins. Damn the woman. By hook or crook, his mother wanted him married again, and she would hold his sister Helena to ransom until he selected one of the candidates of her choice.

Now she had Helena. Helena had been a bone of contention between his mother and him for many years. The duchess desired Helena to become her unpaid companion, the helpmeet for her old age. Julius was equally determined that his sister would have the life she wanted and the husband she deserved. Life with his mother did not bear thinking about.

But the duchess had won a march on him. The women listed in the letter were her particular allies, and their daughters would be firmly under their thumbs. His mother sought to control him through his wife. But if he was to rescue Helena, he would have to go to the Abbey and face her. Otherwise the duchess would never let her go. She would have him married before the end of the summer. In chains for life.

“My lord?” Lamaire stood by him, an enquiring expression on his sharp features.

Restlessly, Julius rose from his chair and took the other letter to the window, gazing out at the bustling inn yard below.

A young woman crossed the inn yard, her clothes simple and a cloth-covered basket on one arm. She progressed until she passed through the great arch that led out of the yard. She bore herself gracefully as she turned her head to smile at a man standing by the door to the taproom, her hips swaying slightly, her bearing almost regal. Julius smiled. The man doffed his hat to her. That meant she wasn’t a doxy, but a respectable female with some business at the inn.

She progressed until she passed through the great arch that led out of the yard. Watching
someone else, someone who had nothing to do with him conducting a life, calmed him and helped him to set his infuriating mother out of his mind, at least for now.

The young woman could even be his quarry. His spy, a servant he used to employ who was now working at this very inn, had told him the young woman occasionally came into town to shop on market day. The notion of a woman travelling without an attendant mildly surprised him, but since she presumably had no idea of her importance in the wider world, she would probably think nothing of it. He’d ordered his man to stop for the night here. It wasn’t up to the usual standard he insisted on, the rooms cramped and the noise from the taproom too loud, but it would serve. In any case, luck might be with him, and that pretty dark-haired wench could be the one he was looking for. She was dressed respectably, though not fashionably, in a warm cloak with a dull-green-colored gown underneath, ankle length so as not to gather mud. Her basket was covered with a clean cloth, but in appearance, she could be a country wife rather than the granddaughter of a king, albeit a disgraced one.

Julius wrenched his thoughts back to the second letter. The outer part was scarred and creased. It had come a long way to find him. He broke the seal. This was from his brother Augustus.

My dear Julius.

What we suspected is, indeed, the case. Good luck in the hunt.

I trust this finds you well. I will be with you in England before the end of the month, if the weather stays fine.

Yours, etc.

Augustus.

The cryptic communication accompanied a letter he had in his pocket. He pulled it out now and read it again. This was entirely in the code Julius used with his brother, but he had transcribed it.

Here is the information you were looking for. I discovered this letter in the ruins of a house, and I have hopes of finding more. This copy is damaged by fire, so we only have two further names.

Julius had made it his mission to seek out and make safe all the legitimate children of the Old Pretender. They were not, as many supposed, the Young Pretender and his brother, Cardinal Henry Stuart, but the children of an earlier, secret marriage. The son of the last Stuart King of Britain had undergone a clandestine marriage to Maria Rubio, and after his short-lived official marriage, had returned to Maria.

They were political explosions waiting to happen.

Maria had given her children away at birth, either to secure their safety or to keep them hidden or both. She had chosen British tourists to Rome, of which there were legion, and Julius had had the devil of a job tracking them down. Now he had clues to the identity of one more.

Augustus had copied the relevant parts of the letter. It contained names they already knew plus two others. The one Julius was tracing here was from a man who was an academic at Oxford but had married and accepted a modest living in Appleton, Somerset, a few miles away from the inn Julius stood in. He glanced out of the window again. The woman had gone.

Ten miles from the village, Julius’s cousin Alex had taken a house, so that his wife could undergo her confinement in peace. Julius’s plan was to visit Alex, congratulate him on the birth of his son, and then travel on to his family home, to collect his sister and his daughter. During his visit, he could check the existence of the reverend and his family, ensure the child was cared for, and that nobody knew about her real identity.

But the sight of the woman unnerved him. Who else might be watching for her? And wouldn’t a visit from a real life duke’s heir cause some comment and cause the very fuss he was anxious to avoid?

Julius changed his plans. He would become Mr. Nobody of Nowhere for a week or two. He would still visit Alex, but he would not reveal his identity to the villagers. The child was a girl, Miss Eve Merton, purportedly the daughter of the Reverend and Mrs. Merton of Appleton. The thrill of the chase stirred inside him. He had a job to do, and by God he would do it before he walked into his mother’s trap.

He snapped out his orders in French. “Pack a saddlebag with everything I will need for the next day or two.”

“My lord?” Now Lamaire sounded confused, as well he might be.

Julius tipped back his head, closed his eyes, and drew air into his lungs, plans rapidly ordering themselves in his mind. “Go downstairs and hire me a horse. In the morning, use one of my coats and leave as if you are me. Go to my cousin’s house. I will give you a note for him.”