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“You laugh at me,” she accused.

“No, I was laughing at my naivety. I suppose I hoped my kiss had left a deeper impression than it did.”

She raised a brow. “People have kissed my hand before.”

He smiled. “I do not doubt it. But I was hoping that I was more charming than other people.”

She frowned. “My apologies then. But I am sick, so I might not recognize the full potential of your charm. Also, you might be a dream, I am not quite sure. I feel slightly dizzy.”

William smiled. “I am not a dream, be certain of that.” He smirked and gave her a sidelong glance. “Perhaps a nightmare.”

It was her turn to laugh.

“Let me escort you to the servants’ entrance. Someone will lead you to your room without the guests noticing.”

She nodded and pushed off the wall. “Thank you.”

William took her arm, and she instantly leaned against his side. “That’s what a gentleman is supposed to do, isn’t it?”

She shrugged. “You’re a duke’s son. You should know better than me.”

William should have corrected her. He was a duke’s son. But he was far from a gentleman. However, she was weak and did not need the sad story of a duke’s bastard. Or perhaps, he just didn’t want to ruin this lovely evening. She was the first person aside from Roth to treat him as an equal at this damn house party.

They stopped by the door to the servants’ entrance, and he peeked his head in. “I need a footman to escort a lady to her room,” he barked and peeked back out. “Well, I shall take my leave now.”

“Will I see you again?” she asked before he stepped away.

“You can be certain,” William said as he dipped his head, “I shall return for my handkerchief.”

Chapter 30

The knock on the door pulled Victoria out of her sleep. She sat up and immediately glanced at the window.

No. Not William.

She must have fallen asleep, waiting for William to come to her like she did every night.

Another knock. Victoria stood gingerly and rubbed her bleary eyes. “Come in.”

The butler appeared at the door, bowing low. “You instructed me to wake you up as soon as the morning paper arrived.” He’d been saying the same thing every morning for the past week.

“Yes, thank you!” Victoria snatched the paper from his hands, searching for any mention of her husband. She didn’t have to search for long. One of the first articles on the page sent ice flowing through Victoria’s veins. The introductory sentence stated: The bastard, the princess’s husband, and a murderer—one man’s incredible fall from grace.

Victoria skimmed the contents of the article, a few bits and pieces jumping out at her: “The bastard was arrested,” “convicted for the murder of an aristocrat,” “sentenced to death.”

Victoria’s hands shook as she read the last phrase. She didn’t believe her own eyes. This couldn’t be true. Her knees wobbled as she walked toward an armchair a few feet away and leaned against it lest she fell.

“Where’s Caroline?” she asked the butler with a shaking voice.

“She is sleeping, Your Highness,” he answered meekly.

Victoria raised her eyes to the loyal servant, her gaze incinerating. “Then wake her up! I need her to get me to see my husband.”

As the butler bowed out, she reread the contents of the paper more carefully, to make certain she hadn’t missed anything, that she hadn’t misunderstood anything.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t.

William was to hang in three days.