Should Monarchs Stumble (Bonnie Isles #3)

Chapter 4

Edward tugged on the lapel of his jacket and turned slightly to the left, tilting his head to look at his image in the burnished metal mirror.

"Does it not suit you, Majesty?" the tailor asked.

"Are you sure this is what they are wearing on the mainland?" he asked dubiously. "There's an awful lot of lace."

"Perhaps Your Majesty would prefer linen for this ensemble." The tailor removed the broad lace collar, then selected a length of white linen, which he artfully secured around Edward's neck.

"Better," he said. "The lace is very fine, but as I have yet to see this fashion on anyone at court, I do not wish to be a laughingstock for wearing what could be considered a woman's accessory."

"As you say, Majesty. I have seen it before, when introducing the newest fashions to more...remote kingdoms. It is best to make such changes slowly."

"Heaven knows this kingdom is ages behind when it comes to fashion." Edward turned to the right and smoothed his hands over the finely embroidered patterns lining the lapel, cuffs, and waist of the coat. "I swear my father held such things with complete disdain." He frowned in the mirror. "I shouldn't waste so much time on this myself, were it not for my search for a queen. How can I entice the best and most beautiful women without demonstrating that I can fit them with the latest fashions?"

"Just so, Majesty," a new voice agreed. Edward turned to see Alexander Conrad in the doorway. "Women are fickle creatures who must be drawn in with the honey their sensibilities understand."

"Ah, Conrad," he said, deferring his annoyance at the man's limiting view of women in favor of his fashion sense. Edward knew at least two women who were as strong if not stronger than most men, but he had yet to feel the need to correct the man for his arrogance "I'm glad you're here. What think you?"

"The royal blue suits you. It brings out the gold in your eyes, and the white embroidery is pristine."

"You don't think I look like a peasant in these breeches?"

"My king, you could never look like a peasant. My connections in London assure me breeches are all the rage there, and in Paris. Monsieur Arnaud comes highly recommended." Conrad nodded toward the tailor, who bowed and took his leave. "Are you sure you will not consider a wig, Majesty? No one could suggest you are anything less than a king if you wear one."

Edward cut his gaze to the table where three white wigs of varying length were perched upon wooden stands and shook his head in distaste. "The kings of the Bonnie Isles have never adorned their heads with anything other than a crown. That is one tradition I will not break, Conrad."

Conrad executed a short bow. "As you say, Majesty."

"Is all prepared for the banquet?"

"Very nearly. I have seen to much of it myself. The kitchen staff has prepared a resplendent meal and the decorators have outdone themselves, as usual. I have a very good feeling about tonight."

"Oh?" Edward asked, his attention piqued.

"Yes. A ship arrived this morning from Cantor bearing a special passenger. I feared the storm had delayed her, but she arrived safe and sound."

"Someone you know? You're from Cantor, are you not?"

"Yes, Majesty. Kind of you to remember. The young lady is an acquaintance of mine. Her father is Duke Francis of Greenlawn, and he and my father often hunted together."

"Greenlawn? That estate is my best producer of mutton and wool, is it not?"

"The very same. Lady Phillipa is the apple of Lord Francis' eye. He cherishes her beyond measure."