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“We might as well sit down,” Alexander said with amusement lacing his tone. “We’re going to be here a while.”

I turned to see him take a seat on a wooden bench, and I sat next to him. “It’s like that, huh?”

“Yes. We’ll be here at least twenty minutes, and I suspect she’ll only leave because she wants to see the sharks get fed.” He peered over at me with a smile. “And that’s why she can’t have pet jellyfish. She’d never get anything done.”

I dipped my head and laughed quietly. “That makes a lot of sense.” I looked back up at her—she hadn’t moved an inch.

For a child who could never sit still, it was quite remarkable.

“What are your plans for the weekend?” Alex asked, drawing my attention back to him.

“Mine? Oh, I’m not sure. I think Eva was going to try to get the train up on Sunday if she could get off work. Gabi said she might join her after Charlotte Howard’s charity gala this weekend.”

Alexander grunted.

“What? Are you not a fan of charity galas?”

“Neither the galas nor Charlotte Howard,” he replied dryly. “It’s not even her gala. It’s Fredrick’s, but it’s not as if that’s ever stopped her making it all about her.”

“Meow. Someone’s feeling catty.”

Alex shot me a look. “Were you not invited?”

“Goodness, no. And I couldn’t be happier about it.” I sniffed. “I’d imagine she was in charge of the guest list, and Eva and I have never gotten along with her. Gabi only does for the sake of keeping up appearances. You’re not the only one who thinks she’s too big for her boots, you know.”

He inclined his head in my direction. “It’s hardly surprising that Fredrick finally proposed to her. I rather think she wore him down.”

“I think everyone knows she wore him down. It’s not a secret that her mother is a catastrophic social climber, especially since her father went to jail for embezzlement.”

“I suppose they both want to get back to where they believe they belong. Socially speaking, of course.”

“Yes, but if the wedding happens, Charlotte will be a future countess. A solid few steps above just having a little money, isn’t it?”

“Now who’s being catty?”

“I’m a woman. I’m supposed to be catty. Especially when it’s someone as vile as Charlotte digging her claws into someone as lovely as Fredrick.”

“Are you jealous, Adelaide?”

“Of Charlotte? I should think not, and I’d thank you to keep those thoughts to yourself next time.”

He chuckled. “Fred is quite the catch, and a very good friend of mine. He’s the only reason I’ll be attending this weekend. God only knows I have no desire to hear Charlotte remind everyone how she’s related to Katherine Howard.”

“Ugh. Don’t. The woman was queen for five minutes before she was beheaded. If you ask me, it was a fitting punishment. I wish I could behead the bas—buggers—who have cheated on me.” I leaned back and crossed my legs.

What?

I bet people would be a lot more faithful in relationships if they knew it could literally cost them their head.

We didn’t utilise swords nearly enough these days.

“Oh, please. There was no proof either Anne Boleyn or Katherine Howard cheated on Henry. Besides, he never should have been King.”

“Actually, there is proof that Katherine Howard was conducting an affair with her cousin and wasn’t even a virgin when they married.”

Then, I paused.

“He never should have been King.”

Oh, dear.

Slowly, I turned to look at Alex. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’re a Yorkist.”

“Oh, God. You’re a Lancastrian, aren’t you?”

I held up my hands. “If you believe a man who killed two children just to become King of England was worthy of the title, then I’m not sure I can even talk to you.”

“There’s absolutely no proof Richard killed the princes in the tower.”

“There’s absolutely no proof he didn’t.”

“I like the theory Margaret Beaufort had a hand in it. It worked out arguably better for her, didn’t it?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on. Margaret Beaufort was many things—a dirty turncoat among them—but a murderer? How would she have even gotten into the tower to kill them?”

“Assassins. She had allies in Richard’s camp.”

“You’ve been spending too much time on the Internet and not in actual history books.”

Alex shrugged. “I didn’t say I thought she did it, just that I like the theory. You have to admit, it’s one of the more fascinating ones.”

He was right. Of all the theories, it was one of the more exciting ones, but it was such a loose and hole-filled theory. The idea that Henry the seventh’s mother killed the princes in the tower was rather dramatic, but it simply didn’t make sense.

Talk about playing the long game.

I know the Plantagenets and the Tudors were a bloody bunch, but even that one seemed a little far-fetched.

“I’ll give you that,” I said slowly. “But I can’t give you anything else. Richard was a terrible King and deserved to be overthrown.”


Tags: Emma Hart The Aristocrat Diaries Romance