“I'd have thought Lord Warren would have had something to say.”
“He did; he transferred a hundred thousand into Beth's accounts and handed all control of her fortune over to her.”
“At last.”
“They've cut her off though.” Caro grimaced at the injustice.
“Ah; it's fortunate the Countess took her in.” Sarah said.
“Countess De Narvel wouldn't let her god-daughter suffer. She fostered with her before Beth went to School.” Lizzy told her Lady-in-Waiting.
“How on earth did a new family like the Warrens get a daughter fostered with the De Narvel's?” Caro asked.
“Hey, my family are 'new', you know.” Sarah protested.
“Service to the Crown for several generations counts, I've never heard it said the Warrens did anything other than lend my great grandfather cash during the second civil war.”
Sarah snorted, “It was enough to get them a knighthood and work up from there.”
“Fair enough; I'm going to have to remember things like that aren't I? It was so much easier when I could be happily ignorant and just play the game my uncle taught me.”
Caro looked pointedly at Sarah.
“It's okay, I'm one of his agents.”
“I see. That explains why you're her Lady-in-Waiting.”
“I'm still in the room, you know.”
“We know, but sometimes you get in the way.”
“Thanks ever so, the pair of you.”
The tea was brought in and the women were silent as they imbibed.
“So, how went the property search?”
“Nothing.”
“Not in the city at least. I think we should look at the monastery the High Curate mentioned. Master Thompson did say he thought it was a good investment.” The subject had come up during the various meetings Lizzy had had in the previous days and her estates manager was enthusiastic about the property, an abandoned monastery that the Curates had been hoping to reopen for fifty years and had failed to do so.
“It's out in the wilds.”
“Hardly! It's just off the main road ten miles out of the city.”
“The land would be valuable too. Does it come with much?”
“A thousand acres.”
“Wow, I'm surprised they haven't sold it to developers, that'd be a nice country estate close to the city.”
“They were hoping to restore the Sanctuary.”
“Ah.”
“The new High Curate seems like a fairly sensible, modern man. Better than that martinet who bullied everyone before.”
“I suppose there may be hope for us yet.”
“They do keep complaining that hardly anyone enters the Seminaries anymore and Lastday service attendance is down.”
“It's been falling since the second civil war, in the cities at least.”
Lizzy and Caro looked at this unexpected statement from Sarah.
“What? I did a study during my training for the Investigations Office. If you look at the pre- and post-war registers you'll see a marked decrease in Seminary entrants, and a marked increase in those with an exemption from Observance. I show you if you want, there's copies in the Royal Library.”
“Well, that's news to me. I was always told if we didn't go to Chapel we'd be fined and imprisoned.”
“Without an exemption you could, two hundred years ago. The laws were repealed by the king's father.”
“Good man, my Granddad.”
“Yes, and unobservant.”
“He was not! I remember him being very clear sighted.”
“Now you're just being silly.”
“Someone has to. And the last few days have been so serious. Send a messenger to Thompson and the High Curate, we'll get the details of the monastery and visit, but not tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow you're supposed to be visiting the Old Guards.”
“What time?” Lizzy sighed.
“Mid-afternoon, for an inspection.”
“Really, can't I have a day off? I want to see my friends.”
“You'll see them at Court tonight. But don't get too drunk.”
Lizzy bashed her head on the table with a thud, the tea cups and spoons rattling with the impact.
“You're being a little dramatic.”
“I haven't started yet.”
“It'll slow down in a few weeks, everyone wants to see the new Princess Royal.”
“I have other things to do.”
“Like what?”
“The paper?”
“Runs itself quite happily now, actually you're making quite a profit on it. They like your 'Maggie Harford' pieces but don't need them every day, there's all sorts of things happening to write about.”
“I think ‘Maggie’ might be coming for a visit, to interview the new Princess though, and to talk about the school she's founding.” Caro suggested.
“Is that such a good idea?” Lizzy wasn't sure, her uncle had been quite adamant about keeping her role in the arrest of Maggie Richards a secret.
“Yes, there needs to be a small announcement anyway, or people will make things up for themselves.”
Time, being the contrary creature it was, passed incredibly quickly and the long summer turned into blustery fall-of-leaves quickly, and before she knew what was happening Lizzy was officially opening 'The Princess Elizabeth School and Refuge for Unfortunates Escaping Illegal Indenture', generally known as The Princess's School. The wind whipped her coat about as she climbed down from the carriage with her father and brothers. The children who hadn't been returned to their parents and the women who needed somewhere safe to live had been installed a month before, teachers, nursing staff and a Matron had been employed and lessons had already.
The Court had reluctantly travelled out of the city for the opening; they were huddled in cloaks and coats around the steps leading up to the main doors. A lectern had been erected and the High Curate was performing a service for the residents and any visitors who cared to listen. Most of the younger members of Court and a few of the older Unbelievers huddled together waiting for the royal party to arrive. When the Duke stepped down from his carriage with his wife and children to meet the King, the waiting courtiers tidied themselves up and followed them to the doors.
The High Curate smiled at his congregation and ended his sermon, bowing to the King as he arrived. Lizzy had held his arm all the way to the lectern, now he loosened her death grip and pointed her in the approximate direction of the crowd.
“Good afternoon, I won't keep you long, the weather is awful and those children look eager to go in and get at the food.” There was a giggle from the audience. Lizzy felt herself gain some confidence, “The circumstances that lead to the founding of this school have as you all know, been fully reported by the papers, and resulted in the arrest of several terrible people. I am far from believing that there are no other such slavery rings operating in our city and our country. I can only wish that this school and refuge were not necessary, however as they are then I hope this place will provide sanctuary for those who escape such horrors. And with that, allow me to welcome you to The Princess Elizabeth School and Refuge for Those Escaping Illegal Indenture.” Lizzy looked around to her father, “We really should have come up with a shorted name, Father.”
She stepped back as a pair of servants removed the lectern and led the children and women resident at the School towards the doors. Another servant handed her a pair of scissors; she cut the purple and green ribbon – which matched the children's uniform – and pushed open the doors. As expected, the children high-tailed it to the dining room. Lizzy and the Matron, a small, smiling woman in a severe dress, called Agatha Binns, shook hands with the courtiers who came in to look around.
Tired but happy, Lizzy eventually left, pleading her exhausted brothers who fell asleep at the dining table. There had been compliments from even the most conservative courtiers regarding the restoration and conversion of the monastery into a school. The children were p
ronounced poor, dear little things and Lord Summerton celebrated finally getting his Watch Houses back.
Chapter 17
Summer A.E. 1334
“Well, this is a disaster.” Lizzy said to her cousins at the Residency a day after they received the news that the High Lord of Sumoast had died. Her brothers had joined her on the visit and Michael, at fourteen, was convinced he was an adult and therefore joined their conversation in the parlour. John and Elenor were far too busy helping Catherine to make decorations for an important Umari festival the Duchess was hosting in her temple in a fortnight. Adults, they decided were very silly and worried about the wrong things.
“Why?”
“Don't exaggerate Lizzy. You'll upset the children.” Catherine scolded.
“I'm not a child, father says kings don't get to have a childhood.”
“Of course Michael. And it's a disaster because your mother hates me.”
“Does she? I can't imagine why?”
“I couldn't when I was your age, but since I'm responsible for her being sent home in disgrace for four years, I think we can agree that she probably has good reason to now.”
“It's not your fault Lizzy, she tried to have you killed.”
“But she hasn't tried since. Maybe she's mellowed?” Michael suggested hopefully.
Alex and Lawrence looked at each other. Lizzy caught the look, “What?”
“Yeah, about that, not so much.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know how uncle has had you on official duty for four years?”
“Yes, four incredibly dull years. Some days I never want to hear another fake compliment or attend another gala until I die.”
“Yes, well, we've been dealing with a few potential assassins. The Queen, or someone in Sumoast, sends at least three a year. The king wanted you in plain sight until we dealt with them all.”
Lizzy paled at the thought, although it did explain why she'd been kept out of Investigations.
“Oh, there haven't been any sent for six months, it's a record. We think she's planning something now that she's able to return.”
“Talking of, I though her exile was permanent?”
“Uncle had to renegotiate to stop old Lord Holmgard sending his fleets. Some of the northern Sumoasti are nasty fighters. We wouldn't have won.”
“So now my mother's grandfather is dead she's coming back?”
“'Fraid so little brother. And your mother's uncle is High Lord of Sumoast now.”
“Yes, I know.” The teenager looked thoughtful. “He has a daughter and a son, and mother’s mother and he have another brother, younger, who only has one son?”
“That's right. I heard that the Holmgards aren't a particularly pleasant family, but the youngest married some lord’s daughter in the north so he could escape the family.” Lizzy wracked her brain for information about her enemy's family.
“Is that true Alex?” Michael liked the idea of a cousin brave enough to argue with the war-like Holmgards.
“Oh yes, he was sent on a diplomatic mission, and ended up married. But not to Lord Arun’s daughter.”
“No, his son.” Lawrence laughed at the blush on his royal cousin's cheeks. That sort of thing was not allowed in Albon; the Curates had long disapproved of same-sex attraction and the Moot still refused to acknowledge such partnerships as legal entities.
“Stop teasing my brother; you're embarrassing him.”
“I'm not embarrassed, I'm confused. How is that legal?”
“They have different laws in Sumoast, though I hear Lord Holmgard is not amused.”
“He never is; the entire clan are miserable wretches.”
“That's my family you're talking about.”
“You've never met them.”
“So, technically they're family.”
“Unfortunately they are. Hopefully the Queen won't feel the need to bring any of her cousins back with her.”
“She won't; the Holmgards are busy fighting a minor civil war with their northern and eastern provinces.”
“Why does nobody tell me this stuff?”
“We didn't want to worry you.”
“You were busy.”
“Poor excuses.”
“Probably. But Father was adamant you weren't to get involved.”
“He's so overprotective at times.”
“We know. He took the key to the wine cellar off us when he left for the north.”
“Cruel. Cruel indeed.”
“Incredibly.”
“We've been sober for a week. It's terrible.”
“I'm sure you'll survive another week until he gets back.”
“I don't think we will; take us out won't you?”
“Even I can't afford your bar tab.”
“Oh but Lizzy.”
“Oh but nothing. You kept me in the dark about attempts on my life. I suppose my Lady-in-Waiting is a bodyguard?”
“Well, you knew she was from the Investigations Office.”
“I did; she told me the first time we met.”
“Why did you think Father sent one of his Officers to be your Lady-in-Waiting?”
“Because he's nosy and over-protective.”
The children stopped playing their games with paint and pens to watch the three of them fighting. Michael sat in his chair, quietly observing his sister and cousins. The atmosphere became tense as the argument continued. Finally, the Duchess interrupted.
“What's done is done, Lizzy, there's no need to keep on about it. You know now and that's all there is to it. Michael did what he thought was best and so did your father; you can't blame them for wanting to give you a few years of peace. Now, supper will be served soon, and I want there to be no fighting or shouting. John, Elenor, tidy up, then go and wash your hands.”
The two eleven year olds reluctantly put their creations in a box, desperately jealous of Michael who got to stay and hear the rest of the conversation.
“Hurry, or you'll be late to supper.”
The children nodded at the Duchess and rushed out of the room. The faster they washed their hands the faster they would get back to the parlour.
“Now, I think we all need to take a deep breath.” Catherine returned to her seat, and started picking up the bits of material John and Elenor had left on the floor and table.
“Yes auntie.” “Yes mother.” “Of course, mother.”
Michael smirked to see his sister and cousins so roundly defeated, until Lizzy glared at him.
Chapter 18
Winter A.E. 1334
“Father.” Lizzy dozed in her comfortable chair in the family parlour at the palace. The boys were out playing in the gardens. A fall of snow overnight had turned them into heaven for children (though Michael was adamant he was just keeping an eye on John). Lizzy had had a late night; Caro had announced her engagement to an innkeeper called Robert and there had been a free bar; Lizzy was suffering.
“Yes, my love?” The king had been up late with his council discussing the Sumoast situation, and was also dozing, and waiting for his lunch.
“I want to go on the Belenos trip with uncle and the twins.” Lizzy cracked an eye open to see how her father reacted to her request.
“But you've got so much to do next summer.”
“Really? Jocinta will be back before then, and quite honestly I don't think I can stand being around her for too long.”
“Ahh, yes I see. Look, I know you two don't have the best relationship.”
“She keeps trying to have me killed.”
“Yes, I know. I'm going to speak to her about that.”
“The stupid Sumoasti bitch won't listen.”
“Lizzy, that is my wife you're talking about.”
“So, it doesn't change anything.”
“Try, for once, to understand the position I'm in. She is my wife, the mother of my sons, your brothers. I can't divorce her because Lord Holmgard will declare war if I do, I can't keep sending her into exile,
because Lord Holmgard will declare war if I do, and I can't send you away because I love you.”
“Well? Have her done in, it's not as though she's popular here.”
“No Lizzy, because, Lord Holmgard will' Declare war?”
“Yes! At last, you get it. We're in a bind, that, at the moment, there is no way of escaping. Until we do, you play nicely with the queen. I understand your hatred. To be entirely honest I find the woman impossibly difficult to live with too, but we are in a difficult position.”
“We have allies.”
“The Umari are too far away to help and the Calmani won't disrupt their trade network for us, unless they're getting something out of it.”
He'd been through all the possible options with his Council a dozen times in the six months since the news that Jocinta would be returning after her period of mourning. He personally considered it lucky that the coming of winter had extended the time frame available. Wait and see had become the only possible response after the Sumoasti fleet had sailed into Albon waters; their own fleet was nowhere near large enough to defeat the interlopers.
The Council meeting had been fraught with debate, the night before. Now Lizzy was arguing with him too.
“Am I the King here or not?”
“Of course you are father.”
“Then why does everyone keep arguing with me?”
“Who else is arguing?”
“The Council. For hours, and hours.”
“What about?”
“Fleet wants new ships; Foreign Office doesn't want to provoke our enemies.”
“They don't have to find out?”
“How do you mean?”
“We have ship yards all ‘round the coast, not all of them belong to Fleet.”
“Civilian yards?”
“Why not? The Marsh yards build new ships all the time, how would anyone find out of the ship was a merchantman or a man-o-war?”
“It's an idea. I'll suggest it at the next meeting.”
“When's that?”
“Next Fifthday.”
Hidden Fire (The FIRE series Book 1) Page 9