put his hand under her glass and lifted it to his nose. He sniffed. “Potent,” he said. “This punch, darling, is generously mixed with la fée verte, a French spirit that will give you nightmares if you drink too much of it. It is also called absinthe.”
Hollis and Caroline gaped at him. Leopold shrugged. “I spent a bit of time in Paris.”
“Well, now I must try it,” Caroline said. “I would never recommend drinking from any bowl that Douglas has brought, but then again, he was always very diverting, wasn’t he?”
“Too diverting,” Hollis reminded her. “He locked you in a closet.”
“We were children,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“You were seventeen.”
“Nevertheless, I shall try his drink in the spirit of the season,” Caroline said, and turned to her husband. “Shall we?”
“Please,” he said, and nodded in the direction of the sideboard, where very large silver serving bowls held the absinthe punch, and two footmen worked furiously to fill cups.
“Perfect,” Caroline said. “I had hoped for an opportunity to walk through this great throng so that everyone who still speaks ill of me can see my dress.” She winked at Hollis.
Leopold held out his arm to Hollis, but she didn’t move.
“What? Aren’t you coming?”
“I mean to find Lord Douglas and extend my warm wishes.” Which meant, more precisely, that she was going to look for Mr. Brendan.
“Ha!” Caroline countered. She paused and put a hand on Hollis’s arm. “Don’t start a war with Mr. Shoreham. I told Beck he was asking for trouble with that one.”
“What do you mean? I would never!” Hollis said. Not without a bit of punch in her, she wouldn’t.
She moved on, sipping the drink. She found the second sip wasn’t as foul as the first, and the third even better. It traced a lovely warm path down the middle of her body.
She reached the end of the room in her search for Mr. Brendan and took a spot by a wall near the tree. She was leaning to her right, trying to see farther behind the thing, when someone tapped on her shoulder. She spun around, certain she’d find Mr. Brendan.
It was not Mr. Brendan.
Alas, it was William Douglas, the Marquess of Douglas, the future Duke of Hamilton. It never failed to amuse her that the boy she’d known would be a duke, as he seemed more suited for roughhousing in the stables. He still had that look about him in spite of his tailored clothing—he was tall, with dark hair carelessly tousled, and a sparkle in his gray eyes that made one think he was a scoundrel.
“Fortune smiles on me today, does it no’, for here is the lovely Hollis Tricklebank, as I live and breathe.”
“Honeycutt,” she corrected him, the rotten bounder. He knew very well her last name.
“Ah, yes, you married the fellow, didn’t you?”
“You attended my wedding, sir.”
“Did I?” He feigned confusion. “I can’t possibly remember all the weddings I’ve attended. There have been many in the last few years.”
“And yet, never your own wedding. Your mother must be beside herself with grief.”
He chuckled. “As I have explained to my dear, grieving mother, how can I possibly marry when the best ones have been taken? You appear to have mourned your husband very well indeed, madam,” he said, his gaze deliberately skimming over her.
“Oh, William. You were a rake when you were a lad and still are.” She laughed.
“Och, Mrs. Honeycutt—I am not a rake, but an ardent admirer of feminine beauty.”
“That’s what all rakes say.” She lifted the glass with the pale green drink. She’d had a few more sips of it and she was beginning to feel a little fuzzy. “Did you really contribute this to the evening?”
“I did, indeed. I’ve just come from France with it.”
“Did you bring it on your big new ship, Captain Douglas?”
“Aye, madam. I should like to invite you onboard. Allow me to spirit you away,” he said with a flourish of his hand. “Would you like to see India?”
“I would. But I’d heard that you’d been ordered home after your purchase.”
“Who, me?” He smiled again...but he was looking past her.
Hollis wanted to ask him about the soldiers. She wasn’t quite certain how to bring it up and to tell him she knew they were aboard his ship. And she’d lost the moment—he had clearly lost interest in her, and she turned to see what had caught his eye. He was looking at Princess Justine. She was dressed in a beautiful blue gown with