Page 18 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

With dazzling clarity, the pieces fell into place in my head. “You sent me the dress and the invitation?” My words rang out, aghast.

“Of course. I thought you had already worked that part out.”

“Why would I… Why would you…” I stammered, my mind grasping desperately for anything that made sense of this. “You mean to tell me that you are my fairy godmother?”

For the first time since we had met, Nicholas Wynter looked disconcerted. “Your what?”

It was not a question I could answer though, because I was too busy laughing. I think it was some form of hysteria, but the idea that I had – for even a moment – considered the man in front of me to be my fairy godmother was, frankly, hilarious. The perplexed frown he wore did not help.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, finally getting a hold of myself. “What matters is that I’m afraid that I can’t help you. I have no idea why you would want to embroil anyone in such a plan, but I would never—”

I stopped.

Lord Wynter wanted to get the prince to propose to me.

If the prince proposed to me then he would not be proposing to Agatha, as it was increasingly clear everyone expected him to do.

And Helena’s humiliation would be absolute.

I liked that idea; I liked that idea very much.

Nicholas was still talking, saying something about renumeration and the sums he would pay me for my involvement.

“…enough to set up your own shop should you wish to do so, though, of course…”

“How would it work?” I interrupted him.

His eyebrows rose. “It is perfectly simple,” he said. “You will become Serena Fox, with the personal history that I have created for you. I will vouch for you as an old family friend and spread the story of your enormous wealth – no one will doubt my word.”

Arrogance dripped from every sentence, but I couldn’t argue with it. If anyone could control society’s opinion of me, it was Nicholas Wynter.

“It was clear to me from the start that you could pass for well-born – it’s in your voice and the way you stand.” He paused then, but if he was waiting for me to fill him in on my family history then he would be waiting a long, long while. Seeming to realize this, he continued. “I can help to polish you up, and we can pass any mistakes off as those of a sheltered heiress whose doting father has kept her in the country.”

“You think the fact that I’m an heiress will be enough to snare a prince?” I asked, incredulous.

“Prince Stefan has come to England with a single purpose,” Nicholas said. “In order to avoid marrying the lady his grandmother, the queen, has chosen for him, he must arrange an advantageous match, and fast. Stefan has expensive tastes. He’s here to catch a rich bride, one who can keep him in the manner to which he has become accustomed. I believe that, were he to think you wealthy, you would have no trouble succeeding with him. You are exactly his … type.” He gave something of a grimace.

“So Serena Fox doesn’t exist?” I asked.

“She will do – if you agree to become her for the next two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

A lock of his hair fell forward and he pushed it back with an impatient hand. “That’s how long the prince has left before his grandmother requires his presence at home. She was reluctant to allow him to come in the first place and if he doesn’t return with a respectable match arranged, then he must marry her choice of bride. A cousin of his, I believe – a woman of good standing, very wealthy – and entirely under her thumb. Prince Stefan has no desire for a wife whose fortune will be under his grandmother’s control.”

I watched him thoughtfully. I wondered what it was that Nicholas was not saying.

“Rumour has it that he is about to propose to Lady Scott-Holland’s daughter,” I said carefully.

“Precisely.” His eyes gleamed in the dark.

“So you want me to prevent him from finding an acceptable partner before the time runs out, by directing his interest towards me?”

“Correct. And then, when his interest is confirmed, when he has thrown over all others, I would also like you to reject him, publicly and in the most humiliating way possible.”

“But … why?” I asked.

His eyes shuttered. “That is not a matter for discussion,” he said coldly.