Will had gotten the idea from Emilia.

You've got to play it like he would.

The king had been threatening to expose Will's family to the public for over two years, and now Will was going to do the same. But he wasn't merely going to walk into Buckingham Palace and wave the letter incriminating Ernest in his face. No, he was going to do what the king would do.

Will pulled his friends into the hallway, away from the ears of his mother and Trevor. He then explained his plan before dictating everyone's roles. They all subsequently dispersed throughout the first floor of his home to figure out the details.

Lord Clemonte and Weston put their heads together in the parlor across the hall. They were trying to decide the most damning approach to expose the king: a tell-all about the monarch and his flirtation with treason. Lord Clemonte had the power to publish the article if it came to that, and Weston had the words to make it ruinous.

Lady Humphries was in the same room but sitting near the fire as it roared in its grate. Her head was bent in concentration over a piece of parchment as she tried to put her own spin on the story for Mischief in Mayfair. Will enjoyed watching Madame Mischief in her natural element, hard at work as she influenced the ton's sensations.

Occasionally, Will would peek through the door to see her leaning over to speak with Clemonte and Weston, and shortly after, he would usually hear their booming laughter float into the hallway.

Leo, on the other hand, was doing what Leo did best. Which was to say...very little of anything. But his presence was appreciated, and he continued to pop into the parlor to annoy the others as they attempted to work. Despite Leo's casual approach to life, he had a sharp mind in the ways of politics, and his input was valuable to Will.

Kingfield was not enjoying himself quite as much. He still sat in the corner of the study guarding Trevor. Only now, Will had added his mother to that jolly group as well.

Lady Trotten spent her time harassing Trevor, berating him for his failed operation in marrying Emilia. Not only that, but she was also irritated that he had come here afterward, thwarting her intentional efforts to arrive and persuade Will to leave Emilia alone.

Will wasn't sure what to do with the madwoman yet, but he did not want her messing up his plans with more of her meddling. She didn't seem pleased at the arrangement to sit in the corner, but she also didn't argue it overmuch.

Will reckoned that she was likely too afraid to cross Theo, who was now glaring violently at the two people responsible for his sister's ruin and misfortunes. Trevor had requested to leave but was denied. He eventually fell asleep, slumped over uncomfortably.

His mother, not one to stay quiet for long, kept trying to make conversation with the stony duke, only to be ignored. Well, at least she was neglected until she commented airily, "Have you met the new princess, Your Grace?"

Will jerked his head toward them, observing Theo's reaction as he turned sharply toward Will's mother. But Theo kept his silence.

"Well, I suppose she is not new, per se. But I have heard the most interesting things about her," his mother hummed, noting Theo's interest.

Theo did not take the bait.

"I heard you were also at Prince George's funeral, Your Grace. Did you hear what that man who shot the princess said?"

She waited until Theo bit out, "Yes."

"That she was a maid. Hiding from the king as a maid! I truly couldn't believe it, but then my friends told me that they believed it to be true."

Will saw Theo's jaw clench and wondered if he should intervene.

"In fact," his mother continued, "they think that she might have been their maid. I am simply not certain what to believe about that. How disgraceful for Her Highness if that is true. No wonder Ernest is not pleased with her arrival back at Buckingham." She was prattling on now, and Will walked toward them.

Veins were practically popping in Theo's neck as he whispered, "Your mother is killing me, Trotten."

Will tried not to laugh at that. "Mother," he said sharply. "Stop talking to His Grace. He has nothing to say to you, and you are interrupting my concentration."

Her eyes flashed with annoyance, but nevertheless, she ceased her jabbering.

Will spun back around, eyeing Emilia as she sat at his desk, one finger tapping her cheek as she was lost in thought. The two of them had been working together for the past hour as she helped Will decide the precise words he would use when he went to speak to the king. Her caustic tongue and quick thinking were precisely what he needed at the moment. As Will made his way back toward her, she stood, stretched, and then quickly slipped into the hallway. He followed her.

Emilia bustled away from him, and Will increased his speed to match her pace. By the time he reached her, they were halfway to the kitchens in a shadowy corridor.

"Where are you going?" Will whispered into Emilia's ear from behind. She startled a little, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. Will wrenched her against his chest, enjoying the low noise that escaped her when her backside hit his front.

"To ask the cook to prepare some food for everyone," she said breathlessly.

"Good idea," Will replied, brushing his lips against her ear lobe as he spoke. "You are amazing, Emilia."

She chuckled in his arms. "Because I am hungry and figured everyone else was too?"

"No." Will smiled. "Because you are so goddamn smart. And this is all because of you."

"What do you mean?"

"We're going to be free of him, and it is all because of you. God, if only I had told you sooner, maybe this could have happened years ago. You probably would have figured out that my mother was behind it right away."

Will had been feeling regret for years. It was ingrained within him, this feeling of remorse for the things he had done. But Will had never felt it as poignantly as he did now when the potential time loss was evident.

Emilia turned in his arms, so they were facing each other. "But you were right, too, Will."

"What do you mean?" he asked, repeating her words from a moment ago.

"What your mother was saying. It was dangerous for us to be together. And I think I finally understand why you did what you did."

Will nodded, acknowledging it. "I only wished for you to be safe. But after this, we will not have to worry about that any longer." He stroked her cheek. "I am sorry for the things my mother said," he added. "She's merely a bitter woman who only has a mind for one thing. She's blinded by the talk of people she doesn't know, caring too much for people who don't care about her. But most of all, my mother doesn't know you. She doesn't know us."

He grabbed her shoulders, smoothing his hands down the curves of her arms and trying not to look at the too-tight bodice. There was a small grin on her face as she tilted her head up, admiring him.

"Come here so I can taste that smile," Will said, though he didn't wait for her to come to him. Instead, he captured her face between his palms and seized her lips with his. And then he tasted every part of her mouth, feeling her smile grow between his kisses.

He had meant for it to be playful and light, but the moment Emilia began kissing him back, Will's control slipped. He propelled her further into the darkened corner of the hall until her back collided with the wall. Their lips never left each other as they moved. Emilia's tongue darted into his mouth, stroking him. Will growled in response and reciprocated the action.

Usually, Will felt there was an art to kissing. But tonight, in this hallway with Emilia, he lost all ability for finesse. He devoured her, his hands not letting go of her alluring face, her skin warm and smooth beneath his fingers. They were finally unhindered, free from untruths and distrust, and Will needed her.

His hands fell to her teasing flesh that had been distracting him all day. Will yanked on her bodice, exposing her perfect breasts only briefly before his hands covered her. And then, his mouth.

"Will!" Emilia gasped, straining against him. Her hands dove into his hair, switching between pulling at the strands on his head and gripping them tightly, holding him to her chest. Will's tongue flicked over her skin, and he groaned in pleasure, loving the feel of her in his mouth.

Emilia abruptly tugged on his head, urging his mouth back to hers. Will kissed her fiercely, slamming his body against her own, trapping her beneath him. She didn't seem to mind.

"Let me stay here tonight," Emilia whispered into his mouth, causing a low growl to be released from him.

"You do not know how much I want that, darling," Will managed to say between breaths. It had grown late; midnight had likely come and gone, and all Will wanted to do was crawl into his bed and drag Emilia with him.

"But I doubt Theo will let that happen. And I do not have the energy to argue with your brother tonight."

She smirked and rested her forehead against his. "Neither do I. And tomorrow, you have to face the King of England."

Will exhaled shakily and regretfully readjusted her top for her. "There is that, I suppose."

"I could come with you?" she offered, though she seemed uncertain. Will smiled.

"No, I have to do this alone." He kissed the top of her head before resting his chin on it. "But thank you."

"You'll be careful, right?" Emilia asked in a small voice.

"Of course," Will replied firmly. He wasn't frightened of Ernest. But he was anxious to have the whole ordeal over with. "There is something important I must return for tomorrow," he added. "I wouldn't wish to be late for our wedding."

Emilia laughed, and the sound was magical. "Surely tomorrow is no longer ideal for a wedding."

Will groaned. "I have to wait?"

"Not long," Emilia promised. "But we would need the special license, anyway."

"Which is why I sent a message about that earlier," Will admitted. "I simply need to pick it up."

"You did?" She tilted her head up so she could look at him, and his chin was forced from its resting place.

"Of course I did," Will said, smiling. He had done it at the same time that he had sent missives to their friends.

"Well, still," Emilia maintained. She rested her head back down, this time leaning against his chest. Her ear was pressed to him, and she could likely hear the beat of his heart. Will could only imagine how rapidly it was beating. "I would like to prepare for it. Just a little bit, that is."

"When would you like to get married?" Will asked gently.

"Could we wait until next month?"

Will sighed. "I have been waiting forever for this already, Emilia."

"Me too," she said, pushing off his chest to gaze up at him. "And I want it to be perfect."

"And so it will be," Will replied, brushing his lips across hers gently. "So it will be." He grabbed her hand, tugging her further down the corridor. "Let us go get some food. And maybe Cook knows which servants are on my mother's payroll. They are doubtless responsible for letting her and Trevor inside tonight."

Emilia agreed with a light laugh. "Smart thinking. We do not need any more surprise visitors."

Will shook his head, still in disbelief of all that had happened today. And yesterday. And the day before that.

"God no, we certainly do not," he said. "I am done with surprises."

After arranging for sandwiches to be brought round to their guests, Will and Emilia made it back toward the study. His hand rested upon the small of her back, the simple touch bringing him such joy.

"Will," Andrew's voice cut in from behind him. Will looked back at him, and Andrew jerked his head, indicating his desire to speak privately. Emilia slipped quietly into the room, leaving them in the hallway.

"Yes?" Will asked, walking toward Andrew. Despite the chaotic scene the older duke had walked into, he had maintained his calm, stable presence. As usual, nothing seemed to be able to shock him.

"We've prepared the article," Weston said simply.

"Thank you," Will said meaningfully. "I've never had a way with words like you do. Nor am I as comfortable with overthrowing monarchies."

Half of Weston's mouth tilted up in a smile. "It seems to me that you're handling it just fine." He paused, his head cocking to the side. "However, if you should require back-up..." He raised a brow. "It wouldn't be the first time Ernest and I went head to head."

Will smiled, laughing lightly. "I do not deserve any of you." Bemusement filtered through Andrew's expression, and Will explained, "Emilia just offered the same thing. And I know what everyone is risking simply by taking part in this."

"Ah," Weston replied, grinning slyly. "I would argue that we risk more by not taking part. Do you not agree?"

Will considered that. "I am not sure, but I do know that I wouldn't dare argue with you on anything."  

"Well, I'm merely not a proponent of complacency, Lord Trotten."

Will sobered, thinking about how long he had gone on being Ernest's lapdog. "I've been complacent for far too long."

Running a hand along his chin, Andrew said solemnly, "I cannot think of much I would have done differently if I had been in your shoes. You shouldn't continue this self retribution."

Will appreciated his words, but he wasn't quite at that point yet. He likely wouldn't be for a long time.

And yet, Weston—the powerful, political icon that he was—validating the decisions Will had made was more comforting than he would have thought.

"Thank you, Weston." Will stuck his hand out for the duke to shake. He grasped it firmly, "But I can handle Ernest from here. You've helped enough."

The Duke of Weston gave him a succinct nod. "You're welcome. Now, it is time for the king's comeuppance."

"Indeed, it is, Your Grace."