I woke up next morning with a plan formed ready in my mind. And, oh, what a beautifully diabolical plan it was. Lying in my warm bed, gazing up at the portraits of fat little cherubs on the ceiling, I smiled. Poor Karim... He had no idea what I had in store for him.

Rising, I slipped into my female guise and, whistling merrily, stepped out of the room. Karim was already awaiting me and followed on my heels as I made my way down to breakfast. And when I say 'on my heels', that was less of a metaphor than I would have liked it to be. More than once I had to suppress a yelp of pain as the tips of his shoes stabbed into my ankles.

Patience, Lilly. Patience. Vengeance shall be thine.

When I entered the breakfast parlour still whistling and smiling, Mr Ambrose threw me a suspicious glance. But what could he say? You look suspiciously happy this morning. What are you up to?

Not the kind of thing you ask a lady in front of your mother and two dozen guests.

'You look suspiciously happy this morning. What are you up to?'

Unless your name is Rikkard Ambrose, of course.

'Rick!' From across the table Lady Samantha sent her son a reproachful look, which he completely ignored. I gave him a friendly smile.

'Oh, nothing. I guess I'm just in a good mood this fine morning. Good as in "positive" or "buoyant". In case you'd like to find out the meaning of those words, you'll find them under p and b in the dictionary.'

Several of the gentlemen at the table chuckled. The ladies didn't, but then again, you can't really expect hyenas to laugh at an antelope's joke. Unless maybe it starts with 'A lame antelope came into a bar full of hyenas waiting for their dinner, and...'

Breakfast passed without any major events. Now and then, Mr Rikkard Ambrose threw me a suspicious look or two, but since he did the same with the lady next to him, who was trying to get his attention through giggling and eyelash-batting, I wasn't particularly worried he was suspecting something. Oh no, he felt secure in the knowledge that his big, bearded bulldog would follow me wherever I went.

Big mistake.

After breakfast, the gentlemen departed. Most to go shooting or riding, a few, like Mr Ambrose, to burrow into their happy world of paperwork and business correspondence, from which this inconvenient Christmas invitation had so cruelly torn them. Only we ladies remained behind. Soon, most were engaged in activities traditionally associated with the fair sex – needlework, mindless little musicales, and general undermining of the feminist cause. Only one little detail didn't quite fit into the homely idyll...

'Um...what is he doing here?' Adaira whispered, leaning over to me and, as inconspicuously as possible, pointing at Karim. The giant Mohammedan was standing in one corner of the room, arms crossed, spearing a young lady doing her needlework with a glare so fierce, you'd think he suspected her of planning an assassination by needle-stabbing, or maybe yarn-garrotting.

I pulled a face. 'Haven't you heard? Since my little adventure in Newcastle, I have my own personal bodyguard. He follows me everywhere.'

'Everywhere? Even to the–'

'Yes.'

'Inside?'

'If he tries that, I'll stab him with my parasol.'

'Good for you!'

I sighed. 'But it's bad enough as it is. I stumble over him everywhere I go. I hardly have a moment's peace anymore. And it's all so unreasonable! I'm perfectly safe here. I don't know why he insists on it! Your brother–'

The two little magic words worked like a charm.

Your brother.

Slumping back in her armchair, Adaira covered her face with a pillow. 'Don't get me started on him! He's the most stubborn–'

'–unreasonable–'

'–cold, calculating–'

'–block of ice you could find–'

'–south of the North Pole.'

Slowly, Adaira pulled the cushion from her face, just far enough for me to see the smile that was tugging at the corners of her mouth. 'You know...it really is wonderful to be talking with a sensible girl for a change. I have a feeling that the two of us could become friends. We seem to understand each other on such a deep, basic level.'

I grinned back. 'My thoughts exactly.'

Adaira's eyes slid back to Karim. 'You know...in the spirit of friendship...'

'Yes?'

'If there's something I could do to help...'

This was what I had been waiting for.

'Yes,' I told her. 'Actually, there is.'

*~*~**~*~*

Giggling like little girls, Adaira and I sank onto a sofa only a few feet away from a pack of the most vicious hyenas, Lady Eveline, Caroline and Dorothea among them. They ignored us – or at least me – with disdain worthy of three grand duchesses. But as we kept giggling, whispering, and every now and again throwing glances over our shoulders at Karim, standing in the corner, you could practically feel curiosity beginning to gnaw at them.

Finally, they snapped. Literally.

'Pardon me!' Lady Caroline snapped at me. 'We are engaged in serious pursuits. Please quiet your stupid antics, or at least share what it is that you find so highly entertaining.'

We looked at her, then looked at Karim, and burst into another excited fit of giggles. Eyebrows raised – they never would have gone so far as to actually frown and put wrinkles onto those perfect faces of theirs – the ladies followed our glances and took in the huge, turban-wearing stranger in the corner.

'Unbelievable.' Lady Eveline shook her head. 'What can there possibly be that could be so fascinating to a proper lady about a savage like that?'

I had to admit, I was impressed. Twice now, she had fished for information, both times without posing a direct question to either me or Adaira.

But she wouldn't need to.

'Well...' Adaira began, just as we had discussed.

'Don't tell them!' I hissed at her, sending her a quite impressive glare, if I do say so myself. 'They don't deserve to know!'

'What don't we deserve to know?' Eveline's voice was sharp as a knife. Her eyes narrowed into slits.

'That–'

'Don't!' I interrupted Adaira again, shaking my head. But the three hyenas glared at me, and I shut up. How could I not be intimidated by three pampered society beauties? It was such a terror to behold.

'Tell us,' Lady Caroline commanded – never mind that she was a guest in Adaira's house.

Adaira's eyes flashed for a moment, betraying her real feelings – but just for a moment. The next she was smiling an impressively genuine 'oh, I'm just a silly little girl' smile, and leaned forward conspiratorially.

'You know, I shouldn't tell you this, but...'

'Adaira, no!' Jumping up, I took a few dramatic steps back. 'How could you? I thought you were my friend!'

And, whirling around, I marched away.

But not all the way away. Instead, I slid behind a screen, still within comfortable hearing distance.

'What is the matter with her?' Lady Caroline asked.

'Oh, she is just worried she'll get some competition.' Another silly girlish giggle from Adaira. Dear me, that girl was good. She should try getting a job as an actress.

'Competition?' Now, Lady Caroline sounded truly interested. 'For Lord Ambrose?'

'What, my brother?' Adaira gave a dismissive snort. Somehow I had a feeling that this time, she wasn't acting. 'No, he's old news.'

'Old news?'

'Yes. Who cares about a little lordling–' conspiratorially, she lowered her voice, '–when there's a prince to catch?'

Stunned silence filled the room. Absolute, complete silence. The talent must lie in the Ambrose family.

'A...a prince?'

Lady Dorothea sounded only slightly breathless. Impressive. One might almost think that she wasn't salivating.

'You didn't know?'

Adaira's voice contained just the right amount of surprise and delight. 'Well, I suppose you wouldn't. He is remaining incognito for very good reasons, after all. Even I found out only yesterday.'

'Who?' Caroline demanded, sounding as if she were ready to tear the secret out of Adaira if she didn't give it willingly. 'Who is a prince? Where is he?'

'Why, right over there.'

Cautiously, I leaned forward just enough to peek around the screen – just in time to see Adaira raise a hand and point one delicate finger straight at Karim, who was still grimly contemplating needle and thread as a possible murder weapon and didn't notice a thing.

'Him?'

'You must be joking!'

'I...I thought he was supposed to be your brother's bodyguard!'

Smiling the smile of the all-knowing, Adaira leaned back. 'That's what he would like everyone to believe. He's running around, posing as my brother's bodyguard under the name of Karim. But honestly! Look at him. Don't you see the nobility in his eyes? Haven't you noticed his commanding posture? A bodyguard? Honestly, I ask you!'

'Well...' Caroline murmured, 'now that you mention it, I have to admit...'

'His true name is Utairah Jafri fi al Qurram Qumrah III, heir to the principality of Bakavāsa in India. He is here to negotiate a business agreement with my brother.'

'Is that so?'

'Oh yes. British goods in exchange for tons of Bakavāsian gold and ivory.'

The ladies' eyes went big. 'Tons, you say?'

'Yes. The prince is quite eager to have all the most modern conveniences in his five palaces, and that does not come cheap.'

'I would imagine so. Five palaces?'

'Five.'

'I say! And that little vixen wanted him all for himself. Well...' Rising to her feet, Caroline let her fan snap open. 'That ends here and now.'

'What do you mean?' Lady Dorothea sprang to her feet.

'I mean, of course, that I am going to make the acquaintance of His Highness the Prince.'

'I saw him first!'

'No, I did!'

A brief struggle ensued. By the time it was over, five other ladies had already noticed what was going on. The news spread through the room like the plague, only much, much more dangerous: a prince! There was a prince in the room!

'Your Royal Highness?'

Karim stood there, staring grimly ahead, arms folded, unaware of the approaching doom in silk and satin.

'Your Royal Highness?'

'Prince Utairah?'

Finally, after the third time that a female right next to him addressed the air with royal titles, it began to dawn on the Mohammedan that maybe, just maybe, they were not addressing the air. Maybe they were talking to him. Slowly, he turned his head and surveyed the two females before him.

'Hrm?'

That was what the noise he made sounded like. A bit like the noise a tiger would make when he means to enquire 'Should I eat you now?'

The ladies giggled.

Two more joined them. One put a hand on his arm. Karim looked down at it as if it were a slimy snail, which didn't seem to put the lady off.

'Prince Utairah, we know we're not supposed to know who you are, but I just have to know...how is life in Bakavāsa?'

Karim's mighty brow furrowed. 'What are you speaking of, woman?'

The ladies giggled as if he had made a hilarious joke.

'So mysterious,' one whispered.

'So strong,' another added.

Five more ladies joined the group, whispering and giggling. Karim's eyes swivelled from right to left, looking for a way to escape. There was none.

'What is this?' he demanded.

'Oh, Prince Utairah,' sighed a girl right next to him. 'I knew there was something special about you from the first moment I saw you.'

'So did I,' whispered another one who had somehow managed to squeeze into the corner and sneak up on the bodyguard from behind. He jumped when her hair brushed his face. 'Your disguise didn't fool me for a moment. You're such a powerful man, so strong, so commanding...'

'What is this? Leave! Avaunt!'

The ladies giggled again, and moved closer.

'Isn't he wonderful?' sighed one.

'Simply incredible,' murmured another, reaching up to stroke his beard.

'Ah! Stop! Don't you–'

'Why don't you come with me for a little stroll in the winter garden, Prince Utairah? It is so beautiful this time of day.'

'I don't think–' Karim began, but he didn't get any further.

'Don't listen to her, Your Royal Highness!' another one cut him off. 'Come with me. I'm Lady Francine, Daughter of the Duke of Northumberland. What does she matter? She's just a baronet's niece!'

'You...you...! Don't you listen, to her, Prince Utairah! Her father is a gambler and has lost his entire fortune!'

'And yours never had one to begin with! Come with me, Prince. I promise you won't regret it!'

'Cease touching me! Step back, women! It is not proper–'

But what exactly was not proper, I never found out. The rest of the women had heard the word 'prince'. The moment they realised what prospects were hiding behind that rough, hairy, weaponised exterior, things really started to get interesting.

'Prince? Did I hear someone say prince?'

'How big is your palace, Prince?'

'Are you still unmarried?'

'Should we play some music, Prince? Would you like to dance?'

'Come dance with me!'

'No, me!'

'Me!'

Slowly but surely, Karim was swallowed up by a jungle of hoop skirts, waving fans and dance cards. When the noise level had reached ear-damaging proportions, I snuck to the door and slipped out of the room. Nobody noticed. Nobody, that is, except for Adaira, who joined me a few moments later.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

'Prince Utairah Jafri fi al Qurram Qumrah III, heir to the principality of Bakavāsa?'

She shrugged. 'My governess was very thorough. Besides French and German, she insisted on oriental language training.'

Her voice was very nonchalant, but there was a little devil dancing in her eyes.

'Adaira?'

'Yes?'

'What does that name mean, exactly?'

She managed to keep up her nonchalant front for about two more seconds – then burst into laughter and ducked back into the room to avoid the barrage of questions I was about to fire at her.

Oh dear.

That couldn't be a good sign. What exactly had she cooked up in that brain of hers?

Well, I'd get to the bottom of it later. Now it was time for a little rebellion!

I made my way back towards my room to fetch a cloak, just in case my search for Captain Carter led me outside the house. But, as it turned out, a search wasn't necessary. The captain was standing in front of my door, just raising his hand to knock as I approached.

'Miss Linton? Miss Linton, are you in there?'

'No,' I told him, and he jumped, whirling around.

'Shouldn't a soldier be a little more on guard?' I teased. 'I could have been a Frenchman, preparing to stab you in the back.'

'We currently are at peace with France, I believe, Miss Linton. I met with their ambassador only a few weeks ago. He invited me to have dinner with him, sometime soon.'

'Even more reason to be on your guard, Captain. Just one word: snails.'

That got a small smile out of him, but it was gone almost immediately. He was still in the same unusually serious mood I remembered from our last meeting. And in his eyes I could see that the subject he wanted to discuss hadn't changed, either.

'Can we have a talk, Miss Linton?' he enquired, his voice soft. 'In private? There's something I have to discuss with you.'

'Certainly.' I extended an arm. 'Shall we take a little walk together?'