- LILLY -

Thank God! I had been saved! I would no longer need to go to the royal ball!

Then, I mentally strung together the sentence I had never believed myself capable of forming: I am so grateful for a man's rescue!

Well, I hadn't really been rescued, per se. More of the opposite, really. But the distraction I had created by causing a mass commotion of screaming, shouting, and more or less behaving like a human hurricane, which had allowed my sisters and aunt to escape--wasn't I selfless?--had also allowed me to be bound to an utter stranger, and not have to attend a royal ball.

The utter stranger in question coughed, probably trying to get the taste of the gag out of his mouth. I, too, had an unpleasant ball of dirty cotton shoved into my esophagus, but I was too busy looking on the bright side of the situation to care about my gag, or the cold, hard, unpleasant ground I was sitting on, or the equally cold, hard, and unpleasant man I had been roped to. Finally, after some persistent-sounding choking noises, the stranger spewed out his gag and began talking. "What are females doing at Battlewood Castle?"

I frowned silently. Did this man have no manners? If so, that did not explain his dignified sounding accent or his regal diction. He didn't seem like a gentleman, yet he sounded like one. Although, a gentleman would be a man of leisure, therefore not possessing the very firm, rigid muscles I was currently pressed against--not at all by choice, of course. I, Lilly Linton, was a feminist! Feminists did not willingly bind themselves in close proximity to such rude and arrogant men!

In response to his question, I let out a muffled answer to which he had no reply. After some equally persistent coughing, I managed to release myself from my gag as well.

"None of your business!" I snapped finally, a rancid taste of fish oil clinging to my tongue. "What are you doing at Battlewood Castle, anyways? There's a ball tonight, but I thought the queen only invited young ladies of genteel breeding, not young men of questionable backgrounds!"

"I--" For the first time since we had been begun conversing, he seemed to be at a loss for words. I imagined in the dark, his mouth agape and his face slack with shock. "What ball?"

"You weren't informed? The queen invited all young maidens, eligible maidens that is, between the ages of sixteen and twenty, to attend a royal ball! All in an attempt to convince the crown prince to marry." I wouldn't have known it myself, but Anne and Maria had spoken of nothing else since the invitation had arrived in the post.

"Nonsense! I would have known about this. I am... I am..."

And who might you be, sir?"

"I am a business magnate, seeking a secretary."

"What kind of business man looks for a secretary at a royal ball? Unless you believe you could find one by wandering out in the dark... or you wanted a woman as your secretary?"

"What sort of nonsense do you keep talking about? There's no royal ball, I would have heard about it! After all, I am the p—"

"Pain in my derrière? Yes, I quite agree." I snorted at my own joke. To be fair, it was rather hilarious. "But jests aside... You genuinely did not know of this ball?"

"I did not hear a word of it."

"Have you been out of the country? Are you foreign? Are you Scottish?" My questions were all ignored.

"No, madam. I live very, very close to Battlewood castle, and I have never heard an inkling of any ball."

I scoffed. But his answer gave me more confusion. He didn't seem like a servant—his voice was highly aristocratic—and a servant would have been preparing for the ball, anyways. Maybe he was a very, very reclusive lord who did business on the side?

"What were you doing out here alone in the dark, anyways?" I interrogated. "Searching for a rock to add to your collection?"

Actually, he himself seemed to be made of some kind of stone. Perhaps he had lost one of his limbs and was looking for a replacement from one of the many rocks scattered all around us.

"I do not collect rocks. It would be a waste of time, Miss...?" Even asking for my name, he sounded like it was a demand and I was a servant or an inferior. The arrogant son of a bachelor!

"Miss Linton," I edged out between gritted teeth. "Now, enough small talk. Shouldn't we be finding a way to get out of here before those thieves steal any of our things?"

Sounding very long-suffering, he replied, "I suppose you are correct, Miss Linton. For a female, you do have adequate intelligence."

I bristled at his words. I bristled so much, a porcupine would have envied my bristling skills. "How dare you imply that the majority of females have less than adequate intelligence? We females are perfectly capable of directing our thoughts in a logical manner and—"

"Then why are you speaking so loudly that you have attracted the highwaymen's attention, causing them to approach us with their weapons?" He asked, somehow managing to sound icily blank as well as extremely smug.

But the men walking towards us carrying rifles, who looked dangerous and terrible and fierce, turned out to be palace guards, not highwaymen.

And when they opened their mouths to speak, it became clear that I was tied to the crown prince of Battlewood... not a simple business magnate.