Alan watched as an almost wistful expression passed over the prince’s pudgy features, as if he might have liked knowing that a gorgeous actress had ended her existence for his sake.
“We’ve been nothin’ but friends for years,” the ruler conceded. He straightened his shoulders. “And I can’t afford another…that is, any scandal just now. We’ve got to get rid of the thing.”
“We, sir?” Alan asked, his heart sinking.
“I’ll be of whatever help I can,” the prince answered stoutly.
“You are asking me to—”
“Man of science,” interrupted the monarch. “Just the ticket. I won’t have some interfering priest in here with bells and books and mumbo jumbo. This ain’t a theater, by God, it’s my home. That’s why you’re the perfect man for the job.”
“Sir, I don’t think—”
“You’ll know how to go on at Carlton House, fit right in,” the prince continued, ignoring Alan’s growing desperation. “I won’t have a pack of commoners wandering about the place, sticking their noses into things they won’t understand.”
“But, sir, I—”
“She keeps appearing at evening parties,” the prince told him in a deeply aggrieved tone. “Don’t see how she could do this to me.”
“Sir, surely you don’t believe that this is actually, er, the dead woman.”
“Bess,” supplied the prince. “Don’t know what to believe. Looks devilishly like her.”
“But, sir, ghosts do not exist.”
“Splendid. You come along and tell her so.”
“I—”
“I’ve ordered rooms prepared for you here. Best to be on the scene, eh? You can attend meals and all my entertainments.”
“Sir, I have important work in Oxford, which I cannot—”
“More important than a request from your sovereign?” was the suddenly haughty reply.
Alan thought with despair of the various experiments he had in train, and of the meticulous plans he had made for the next few weeks. “Of course not, Your Majesty,” he answered in a heavy voice.
“Good.” The prince rubbed his hands together again. “We’ll send someone for your things. You may as well move in at once, eh? No time to waste.” He made an imperious gesture, and a footman materialized at Alan’s elbow. “Take him to his rooms,” was the command. “See you at dinner, my boy.”
Now days later all he had to show for his efforts was the embarrassment of getting locked in a cupboard. Something struck Alan sharply in the ribs. “Are you subject to fits?” demanded Ariel Harding out of the darkness. “What is the matter with you?”
“Nothing,” retorted Alan, acutely conscious of his surroundings once more.
“Oh? Do you often drift off in the middle of a conversation? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone in this house seems to be”—she appeared to search for a suitable word—“preoccupied with themselves.”
“I am not part of the Carlton House set,” repeated Alan, revolted. He despised those who hung about the fringes of the court waiting to offer the jaded monarch some new dissipation. He did not even desire to join his parents and brothers in dazzling the haut ton or vying for preferment. Quite the contrary.
“Well…?” said Ariel impatiently.
“What?”
“You were going to tell me why the prince chose you to hunt down my mother?”
“It is not your—”
“Or whoever it is!” interrupted the girl. “You don’t seem to me like a very good choice. You can’t seem to keep a train of thought in your head for more than a minute.”
It took Alan a moment to gather the shreds of his temper. “I am a man of science,” he answered through clenched teeth. “I am affiliated with the university at Oxford. I am conducting a series of important experiments into the nature and properties of light.”
“Light?” She sounded astonished. “You mean sunlight or lamplight?”
“All types of light.”
“But what is there to—”
“You wouldn’t understand. The prince chose me because of my scientific interests and education. He thought that my training in the principles of investigation would allow me to uncover the hoax quickly and efficiently.” That was putting the best possible face on it, he thought bitterly. No need to mention that their ruler thought he was enduring a supernatural visitation, which had nothing whatever to do with science.
“Well, it all sounds very odd to me,” declared Ariel. “I thought lords spent their time hunting and going to balls and that sort of thing. Why would the son of a duke, who can do as he pleases, choose to stay in school forever?”
She pronounced the word “school” with deep repugnance. “My work has absolutely no relation to the pap they offer in girls’ schools,” he replied curtly. “And since you are constitutionally incapable of understanding