“Yes, my lord.”

“Thank you. I must be dressed. I will visit his true Highness, Prince George, this morning.”

“Is he expecting you?”

“Well, no, not at all. In fact, I am sure I am one of the last he would expect to show up at his home today.”

“Then, might I suggest you send a card first, to see if the prince is amenable to visitors?”

Matteo felt grateful for this saving bit of advice. “Yes, very good. Will you ask someone to take care of that for me?” He splashed water on his face at the basin.

After he was dressed and Prince George had sent back a card welcoming him for a visit, he set out in the carriage to Carlton House.

Today, the prince received him in a room outside his bedchamber.

“Come in, come in, Comte Durand.” The room was still dark, and the prince sat on a low settee, holding a cloth on his head. “I have a pounding headache and find the light disturbing. I hope you don’t mind the dark?”

“Not at all. I regret that I have a similar sensation in my own head.”

“Do you?” The prince raised an eyebrow. He waved a hand to the closest servant. “Please bring a cool cloth for Prince Matteo.”

Matteo shook his head but chose to let the matter of his new title drop. “Your Highness, I am sorry you are unwell. I wonder, do you feel up to a conversation of a grave nature?”

Prince George waved his hand at a chair near him. “Certainly. You talk. I’ll listen. If much more is required, I don’t know that I am capable yet. It is dashedly early in the morning the day after your very late and exciting wedding ball. I fear I drank too much.”

Matteo placed an offered cloth on his own head, enjoying the cool sensation for a moment. “I am happy you enjoyed yourself. But I come because here it is, the day after my wedding, as you say, and Scarlet has left, visiting her aunt again.”

Prince George nodded then winced. “Left already, has she? You will both need to talk through some things. I am not sure what has come amuck between you, but it’s nothing a few conversations and full evenings in bed cannot solve.”

Matteo would think of that later. “The worst I am about to tell you. I come to you, placing my life and the lives of many French families in your hands.”

The prince pinched his eyes closed and placed a hand on his forehead. “Oh, come. It cannot be as bad as you make it sound. You are a dramatic one, now I remember, trying to talk politics with me at a ball.” He leaned his head back farther on the settee.

“I am being blackmailed.”

The prince opened one eye. “Mademoiselle Duplay?”