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  “It can be done in the morning and I’ll help you,” he said.

  The idea of a crown prince on garbage detail almost made her laugh, but it would be rude to say so. Besides, now that the band was gone and the guests were leaving, Toby felt the tiredness that she’d been fighting. For days she’d been working on adrenaline and little else. Tonight, if it hadn’t been for Graydon, she wouldn’t have had any dinner.

  “All right,” she said. “I’m ready to go.”

  He motioned toward the tent door, where Jilly and Ken were waiting for them. Jilly looked from Graydon to Toby and back again, but she said nothing.

  As soon as Ken started the engine, Toby fell asleep in the back of the big SUV, and her head leaned against Graydon’s shoulder. When he put his hand on her cheek to steady her, she snuggled closer to him.

  Jilly turned in the front seat and looked at Toby, then at Graydon. She couldn’t quite keep the frown off her face.

  “Trust me,” Graydon said softly. “I won’t hurt her.”

  Jilly turned back around and Ken squeezed her hand. Minutes later, they stopped in front of a small house.

  “This is it,” Jilly said, looking back at them. “Maybe Ken should—”

  “Oh! I think I fell asleep,” Toby said as the car light came on, and she sat up straight.

  “You’re exhausted,” Ken said as he got out and opened the door for Toby. He put his hands on her arms. “I can’t thank you enough for today. You did a wonderful job. Everything was perfect.”

  “Victoria wants me to plan a wedding for her and Dr. Huntley,” Toby blurted out.

  “Does she?” Ken said, and he knew Toby was warning him. Sometimes men reacted strangely about the remarriage of their ex-wives. “I’m glad for her,” he said, “and you’ll do a great job.” Bending, he kissed her cheek and whispered, “Will you plan my wedding to Jilly? Our secret? At least until I ask her.”

  Toby nodded.

  Ken got back in the car, Toby waved to Jilly, and they drove away. She turned to Graydon. It was dark around them, with only the porch light on. “Mind if we go around to the back? The front stairs lead past Lexie’s bedroom and I don’t want to wake her.”

  “I’ll follow you,” Graydon said.

  They went around the far side and there were only a few feet between the house and the fence. A narrow stone path went between shrubs and flowers and a couple of small overhanging trees. At the end, the vista opened up to reveal the shadows of what looked to be several raised beds full of flowers, a greenhouse, and a tall ironwork gazebo. It was all lit very subtly, with soft golden spots that made the garden look like a place of enchantment.

  “This is beautiful,” Graydon said. “Did you design this?”

  “Heavens, no! Jared did. Lexie and I had to nag him for months but he did it.”

  “I can see why he’s famous.”

  Toby opened the back door to the house and they stepped inside. She switched on the light by the door and he saw a very pleasant—and very old—room. The ceiling was low. Another few inches and his head would graze the overhead beams. White plaster was between them. There were some built-in cupboards that he guessed to be original. “Early 1700s?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Toby said, pleased by his knowledge. “Jared bought the house with his first commission as an architect and he restored it on weekends. He’s a firm believer of ‘gut fish, not houses.’ ”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nantucket’s historical commission is fierce on keeping the exteriors of the old houses intact, but you can tear out the inside and replace it with anything you want, even if that means stainless steel and Plexiglass.”

  “I take it you like the old things?”

  “Yes,” Toby said, “I do.” She started up the stairs with Graydon behind her.

  “My favorite part of my house was built in the 1200s,” he said. “I even found some furniture from then. It has a lot of sword cuts on it.”

  “That vanadium certainly is useful.”

  “It is, or else my ancestors were bad marksmen. ‘Brocan! Strike your fellow Lanconian, not the table.’ ”

  Toby laughed. At the top of the stairs, she pointed to a door and whispered, “Lexie is sleeping in there.”

  Graydon nodded. They turned the corner and saw a pile of luggage left by Rory.

  “My goodness,” Toby said softly as she looked at the stack, four high, three deep. It took up half the wall against the stairs. There were two leather cases big enough to transport a person, several duffel bags, a couple of attaché cases, three thick garment bags, and things on the bottom that she couldn’t see.

  “My brother doesn’t travel lightly,” Graydon said.

  “What about you? What do you usually travel with?”

  “Half an army,” he said with a grimace.

  She looked at him. “How did you get away?”

  “By lying. Right now all my staff except for my head bodyguard believe I’m locked away with a highly contagious virus. One of my Montgomery doctor cousins verified it. If I’m found out, it won’t be pleasant.”

  “You risked all that just to come to a wedding?”

  “It was more to get away from scrutiny for a few days.” He smiled, his eyes having a faraway look. “But to think of an entire week! It’s more than I thought possible and it’s all because of your extreme generosity. I can never thank you enough.”

  Toby was a bit embarrassed by his praise.

  “I can certainly never fully repay you,” he said, his voice soft and so low it was more of a feeling than a sound.

  Toby realized that it was turning into an awkward moment. A very attractive man, the dim light … “Invite me to your wedding,” she said.

  “I would be honored. Front row?”

  “Perfect,” she answered. The reminder of who and what he was cleared the air. He helped to remove the cushions from the big old couch and pull out the bed. They halted once when it let out a loud squeak, but it was silent behind Lexie’s door so they continued. There were clean sheets on the bed, and Toby got a couple of blankets out of the closet.

  “Sorry, but you and I share a bathroom,” she said. “Lexie has a private one, but mine opens into this room.”

  “I spent three years in the Royal Guard and I shared the baths with hundreds of men.”

  “I hope I’m not quite as bad as that,” Toby said.

  Graydon’s instinct was to say something flirtatious, flattering, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to ruin this before it started. He’d made promises to his brother and to his aunt Jilly, and he meant to keep them.

  “All right,” she said when the bed was ready. “I’ll go first.” She nodded toward the bathroom.

  “Of course,” he said politely.

  Toby took a shower, washed away all the sprays and foams the hairdresser had put into her hair for the wedding, and scrubbed the layers of makeup off her face. She took longer than she meant to, but it felt good to get clean. She dried off, then put on lots of moisturizer and a freshly laundered nightgown.

  She wasn’t sure what to do next. What was the proper way to tell a prince that the bathroom was free? She told herself she was being ridiculous. Prince or not, he was still a human being. She opened the door into the sitting room a bit and looked out.

  He was sitting in the old wing chair in a far corner of the room. The reading lamp was on and he had a book open. It was one of Nat Philbrick’s exciting nonfiction accounts of Nantucket.

  Toby didn’t say anything, but looked at Graydon. Even when he was alone he sat up very straight, and even though he’d removed his jacket, his shirt was buttoned almost to the collar.

  At first glance, he seemed very formal, but there was something about him that made her able to imagine him with a rough fur thrown across his shoulders and wielding a heavy sword. Maybe it was what his brother had said about Graydon doing anything for his country. If saving it meant brandishing a sword, that’s what he’d do.

  He looke