The Fairy Palace — Sue London

Left to his own devices in London with hardly a pence to his name, Lord Williams realizes he must distract himself before he causes more mischief and the duke cuts him off entirely. If he can't turn to the Mad Clan, his next best friend is sweet 'cousin' Melanie, ward to his dragon of an aunt. Mischief calls, however, with the chance to take Melanie on a whirlwind London visit before her planned engagement to an old goat. Can he pull off this caper without running afoul of the duke, the dragon, the goat, or Melanie herself?

The Mad Clan Series is Sue London's retelling of the Irish tales of the Fenian Cycle. 'The Fairy Palace of the Quicken Trees' is one of the myths that focuses on Oscar, who is our hero this time around. The original tale is used very metaphorically, however, because I can't have a Regency hero literally kill the King of the World.

Excerpt:
Oscar stared out the window, waiting for dawn to tint the sky. Earlier, Melanie and her maid chatted and giggled between themselves for a time, but sleep claimed them in the wee hours when the carriage was gently rocking and the sky was dark as ink. Usually he would sleep as well, but just now he was wondering what in the bloody hell he'd gotten himself into. It was perhaps unfortunate that his driver and valet were fairly well used to decamping in the middle of the night, and not even the two young ladies in tow had received so much as a blink. Was he known to be so craven that nothing was a surprise anymore? He had, for want of a better word, kidnapped a lady of gentle breeding for unknown purposes. By God, he would make sure that her next household would defend her with some aplomb. Not that the lady herself had put up any resistance to his plan, and he would grant that most servants would prefer not to cross a duke's son. But to let her be so casually abducted? Abominable.

It didn't pass his notice that he was criticizing the servants for not stopping him from something he could have chosen not to do. But dammit, Melanie deserved better than a husband that she couldn't even feign a liking for. He was aghast that willful, spirited Melanie sat there on her bed and spoke of growing up and leaving behind her dreams. Would Arthur give up on Camelot? Of course not. How, then, could she give up? He wouldn't let her. He had, in fact, irrevocably changed the course of her life this night, with no idea of how that might play out. All he knew was that this Mr. Hartley couldn't have her. Not if marriage to the man meant she gave up her dreams.

However, as the sky tinted with soft light and he could see her dozing on the opposite carriage bench, he began to doubt himself. What did he know of how to navigate polite society? Yes, he could be charming, and his last name opened a multitude of doors. But a young lady would need savvy to land a reasonable husband. She needed her reputation, flawless etiquette, and excellent sponsorship. God's blood, he couldn't spend five minutes without running afoul of polite rules! Primarily on purpose, but it still made him a poor gallant to escort an unmarried young lady. He should be protecting her reputation, not hying her off to London in the middle of the night.

She looked surprisingly sweet and innocent in sleep. Her dark lashes lay like tiny fans on her cheeks, and her mouth was curved in an enigmatic smile to rival Mona Lisa's. It was almost hard to believe that she could steal a whole tray of tarts, or climb trees for the express purpose of making Lady Eunomia demand she come down. He smiled as he remembered her youthful indiscretions. She was a mix of wild and sweet, like a potent elixir. He loved her. He loved her, and would not stand idly while she made a loveless match. He would not be able to live with himself if a marriage broke her spirit.