by SL Figuhr
“Is she now?” A dangerous purr in his voice. “And what would she have to do with our disobedient newcomer?”
“I am to teach her ladyship manners. Our Majesty’s request.”
“Are you now? What kind of manners do you think you can teach her? The kind that drives your husband to find his comforts in the lowest sorts of whore houses?”
“Even you cannot deny the woman is a little too free in her ways. She needs polish. The countess knows what is due someone of her station.”
The advisor bit back what vileness he was about to spit, bowed the minimum required for a countess. “Forgive me, Lady Elizabeth, my cruel tongue. I know not what I say at times when I am disturbed.” He turned back to the king. “Our talk,” he prompted.
The king sanded his proclamation and gave it to Lady Elizabeth. “Aranthus, see she gets home safely whilst my advisor and I deal with other matters.” The chamberlain felt the hot, hateful gaze of the young man upon their backs until the door shut behind.
“You are my dearest, and most loyal of friends, Nicky. Should you ever enter my room again unbidden and behave in such a way before my nobles, I will have you stripped of lands, titles, and wealth, and given over to Rablias to learn humility. My father spared you when you were a little boy, an orphan,” he stressed, “because you warned him of danger. You have learned enough to pass as one of us, but you were not born noble. So remember I am your king. I am your better.”
The young man’s face darkened until it almost looked black but knew he had no choice but to kneel, bow his head, and apologize. I swear, you fat fuck, this is the last time you threaten me. Once my army is here, I’ll show you humility.
“My hasty actions and thoughtless words offended Your Grace and your guest. I let my damnable temper get the better of me. What may I do to atone?”
The king snorted as he seated himself. “Fetch food for us from the kitchens, and more wine,” he instructed a slave who hurried to do his bidding, before irritably yelling at Nicky, “Sit, damn you! Sit! You think I enjoy making threats against the only man I know who has my interests at heart? But damn if you don’t sorely try my patience.”
“My patience is also tried. You tell me I must investigate the sheriff because of complaints from this unknown, this so-called noblewoman of whom we know nothing. How do you think I should feel?”
Nicky’s look was enough to curdle milk. “I do not think it enough. Not when we still have assassins to fear. I have inquired of other court advisors in the countries she has professed to have lived in.”
The king waved a hand negligently. “I’m sure they will come back favorable, and if the countess does her job properly, she will be quite a prize. I may reinstate her title sooner if only to marry her myself. What has your investigation turned up if you are so concerned about her true motives?”
“I thought our lawman was beyond mistakes such as the one she wrote about. You assured me he had been properly instructed and trained.”
His friend took another sip, to give himself time to come up with a lie. “He has been instructed. When I am finished, I will present my findings to you and the court.”
“No.” Nicky paused a moment before continuing, “We have both heard what a strong-willed creature she is. I doubt many men could control her. Do you really want to marry her? What if she insists she be given rights to equal a man’s if the countess does not instill proper manners?”
The king shuddered in horror. “No woman will have more rights than men, nor rule my kingdom! Sons that my wife will bear me, yes, but not a woman; they are to provide comfort and family.”
Nicky buried his sudden sly smile. “I would hold off on thinking of marrying her, or reinstating her title, at least until after my inquiries come back and we see if Lady Elizabeth can teach her that women cannot and will not rule your kingdom.”
Nicky nearly choked on his wine. You bastard! I won’t have her trying to winkle any more favors out of you. I’ll make sure she refuses you.
Lady Meanna greeted her sister-in-law with a kiss on both cheeks, waiting for the woman to seat herself. She could see Elizabeth was upset, figuring it had to be one of three things: her brother Chadrick, the new foreign woman, or some moral slight. She reflected her father had certainly been right in his estimation of her. She would have made a better second wife to him than to her brother.
Her childhood home had changed much since her parents had lived there. The portraits of Sydney ancestors hung in the main corridors but the countess had replaced Lady Meanna’s mother’s comfortable furniture with ostentatiously carved wooden pieces, the airy frilly window hangings with rich brocades, and the secular bric-a-brac with religious icons. Over the years, all the old Sydney slaves had become dour and humorless like their mistress, or been sold if they could not conform.
The two women exchanged the usual pleasantries. “Dear Meanna, thank the spirit that you, of all your father’s children, inherited his sensible mien. I have received the worst possible news from the palace.” Her bosom heaved as she drew breath. “Our Majesty is commanding Sydney and me to sponsor that ill-bred duchess. I am to teach her our customs and manners! Can you imagine? It’s a disgrace! I will have to be seen consorting with a foreigner! One denied use of her title!”
“Teach her our laws. I told him in no uncertain terms he is not to be in her company. He can have his steward substitute. I won’t have her trying to get her claws into him.”
You mean you don’t trust my brother not to be seduced by a beautiful woman despite the promises he made you. “A wise decision, my dear. I have seen her, and the types of things she considers clothing. She is hardly better than a whore.”
“I’m glad you understand. I have refused to visit her, and let our peers know while what they do is up to them, I certainly don’t consider it a good idea. Now I will look a fool, and all because of our king’s command!”
Her sister-in-law shook her head. “The less powerful are already visiting her at the inn. The merchants are rumored to be fawning over her. It’s quite a disgrace.”
“I should say so, but they lack power because they support the wrong people. I don’t care how enamored the king is of the whore. We both know it won’t last long.” The countess accepted a cup from her slave and took a sip.
“It is said she wrote to the advisor about her rebel slave.” The viscountess gave a nasty laugh. “She may bring about her downfall much sooner than she realizes.”
“Clearly she hasn’t a brain in her head. Have you heard? She bought the old Fishton Mansion. A cursed, tumbledown ruin. How long do you think she will last in it before being driven out by the ghosts of the murdered Fishtons? It’s too delicious to think of.”
“I’m glad my girls are more sensible, although I do hope Caroline would find another husband, preferably one who won’t go and get himself killed in battle.”
“I know you want her to marry a man of good position, but have you considered one of the lesser peers you can direct and raise to power, who will do as you wish?” Meanna inquired delicately.
She watched as her sister-in-law’s thin lips pulled tight in a grimace, and her demeanor grew frosty. The woman was too picky. The kind of men she wanted for her daughters didn’t exist anymore, having been accused of treason and executed. Lady Sydney had scoffed at all of Meanna’s suggestions; she’d have two spinsters on her hands if she wasn’t careful.
Elizabeth replied sharply, “I have heard Lady Anne is ailing again, and not expected to live much longer. I believe Caroline has a good shot at marrying the marquis when he becomes free.”
“The children prove my daughter is fertile. If he agrees to marry, I will include a caveat in the contract that my husband and I will raise her offspring from the first union, and they relinquish all claim on his title or property.” The countess wore a smug smile. “All she must do is birth a living son, something his other wives have been unable to do.”
The countess’s face twitched in annoyance. “Exagger
ations. Caroline will reform him of any bad habits. He needs a woman with a firm hand and a strong backbone. It is true he prefers them young, but I’m sure he will see a lady of Caroline’s ilk much more suitable for breeding.”
“Yes, she has turned out to be more biddable than her elder sister, and a credit to her upbringing. I do believe she could change Lord Nicky’s mind about marriage when he sees what an accomplished young lady she has become.”
Meanna’s brows raised to her hairline; though she adored her nieces and nephew, she had no illusion they could make the matches their mother dreamed of.
The viscountess chose her words carefully. “Do you mean to have them perform the entire time? They will become exhausted and have no energy for mingling with the men.”
“I have requested some of the younger, married ladies who wish to be socially acknowledged undertake the divertissements. My girls will not have competition for the hands of the single gentlemen present, and the husbands will make sure their wives don’t try to enter any liaisons. I expect by the Royal Harvest Ball, at least one of my daughters will be engaged.” Lady Sydney had a superior look upon her face.
Chapter Fifteen
T he sun was a slowly sinking red orb in the sky when I awoke. Unlocking my door, I called for my maid, searching through the growing pile of clothes Emilee and Brent sent over. I paid my bills in full with gold and jewels, unlike the nobles who all maintained monstrously large accounts, which they slowly paid. The adage money talked meant the husband and wife had set three-quarters of their workers to sewing my outfits.
They waited for my instructions as I took the few missives sent to me during the day. The royal tax collector sent the title to the former Fishton mansion. The builders’ guild sent contracts to be signed so they could begin repairing and building. A few people in need of money begged me to consider loaning them funds. Lady Sydney was hosting a dinner tonight, but it was Lord Sydney requesting the pleasure of my company.
My eyebrow raised, wondering how he dared to ignore her wrath. After only a few lessons with her, I could well believe the gossip that she was the power in the marriage; clearly the slaves’ gossip was true that she refused all contact outside our lessons until I’d learned proper noblewoman’s behavior. I tapped the note thoughtfully against my hand. The countess had made no mention of the party to me earlier when we met. I had a feeling it was a last-minute invitation. If I planned on accepting, I had to get ready, and swiftly, or fashionably late would turn into unforgivably late, and as the earl had no doubt gone out of his way, I didn’t want to offend him by not showing.
“Rolf, I shall require you to be my link-boy tonight, tell Domiano to have my mount ready for my usual ride.” Translation: I would go bandit hunting in the wee smalls. “And also tell him and Eron we will delay our outing until tomorrow.”
He bolted out the door, feet thumping on the stair as he jumped from step to step. “Lord Sydney has invited me to a supper party at his mansion tonight.” I couldn’t help the brief smirk crossing my face.
“Do not be surprised if she is still affronted by your gown. She is always advocating for high collars, long skirts and sleeves. You should have ordered Rolf to rent a carriage. Shall I see if Master Nathan will let you borrow the inn’s coach?”
I could tell when she slowly closed her eyes then opened them, I had committed another no-no. “Ladies never walk, no matter the distance.”
Susafan hesitated a moment as she mentally ran through my wardrobe. “The black or the purple; they show the least amount of skin, my lady.”
Two strips of satin-weave silk circled the dress, one at the neckline, one at the waist, framing the silver vine-patterned embroidery on the bodice. Brilliants accented the dress. Eight ornate diamond and silver clips between my waist and upper thighs gathered the full skirt up into a pretty design of soft folds and drapes. A row of tiny buttons held the dress closed in back. My earrings were three diamond drops. I wore a diamond collar and wide cuff, along with my signet ring on my right hand, and a large, square-cut diamond on my left middle finger.
As Susafan predicted, the purple mostly covered my breasts, except for the swell from the tops. I dabbed scented oil upon myself, catching sight of the girl when I handed the bottle back to my maid. She was silently crying, keeping her eyes on the floor. I looked toward my maid, who couldn’t help but roll her eyes, grimacing.
“The black fur drape and muff." I turned to address Mary Elana quietly. “You asked me for help. If I could have given it in a manner allowing you to remain freeborn and safe from your family’s clutches, I would have.”
I saw the jerk her whole body gave at my words, although she remained staring at the floor. Susafan handed the garments to me as I carelessly tossed the drape over one shoulder and held the muff with one hand as I exited the room.
The inn’s common room was full of minor nobles, knights and a few wealthy merchants. Most of the men stopped to watch as I made my way across the room, to the displeasure of the few wives present.
“A walk in the crisp night air will be refreshing. Rolf, careful with the lantern; you don’t want to spill the oil.” I turned to my remaining slaves. “I trust you will have everything ready for our move on the morrow.” They nodded as my maid gave a long-suffering sigh as we set out.
True to her word, our walk garnered much attention as carriages slowed in passing, the occupants hanging out of windows to gape at us. Susafan held her head up so high I thought she might trip. A spot of red dotted each cheek. I inclined my head to each gawking person if I happened to catch their eyes as I strolled along.
We approached the brightly lighted façade of the Sydney mansion. A large covered carriage with several outriders bore down upon us. A slave ran before, shouting, “Make way for the king!”
Hell and Damnation! He hated for anyone to arrive after him. If I ignored him and went before, he would think I thought myself more important than he.
“There is no help for it, either way he shall be displeased,” I replied as we approached the entrance. The royal coach pulled up at the carriage block, ignored by both the royal and Sydney slaves who were gawking at my approach.
Aranthus poked his head out, spotting us, but a furious roar from the king had the chamberlain hissing at the royal slaves to open the door and lower the step.
His Majesty alighted, glancing our way.
“What the hell is this?”
“Bring her here!” the king demanded, overhearing my explanation as slaves hovered around, uncertain if they should grant entrance to someone who arrived in such an unconventional manner.
I laid my fingers on his arm. He escorted me up the short flight of stairs as a different slave held the door for us. I knew word was already spreading to the house slaves inside.
Oil lamps flickered and candles flamed throughout the hall, but still a sense of gloom reigned. Dark carved wood paneling covered the walls up to head height. Dark portraits of unknown ancestors hung above. I left my furs with Susafan as she followed a slave to another part of the house, Rolf having been taken around to another entrance. The Sydney slaves greeted us, bowing low.
“Gloomy, is it not?” Maceanas said, “The old earl was a loyal friend of my father’s. A very rigid man who I always found dour and humorless. Chadrick, the current Earl, is his middle son.”
“Two, and a sister, were all who survived to adulthood. The sister is a close friend of Elizabeth; they are like peas in a pod. The brothers . . . we will not speak of them.”
It meant they had done something to anger the king, exiled if alive but probably dead. He transferred my hand to the crook of his arm, keeping his left hand over mine as we continued down the hall. “I understand my advisor has finally met you?”
“Yes, Your Grace. He was kind enough to help me with a terrible entanglement and explained the slave laws to me. I am most grateful for his compassion and sensitivity for my gaffe.”
“I fear her ladyship is most displeased with me. I find the
history fascinating while some of the customs and dress are vexing to learn and memorize; I am trying to do my best for you.” My progress satisfies you, I whispered in his mind.
He gave me a piercing look. “You should try a little harder to conform. I have been receiving reports from the countess. She is most unhappy.” The woman has not ceased to complain—rolls and rolls of parchment, more than the damn council ever sends me.
Conformity is boring, you enjoy the spice added to an otherwise dull existence. “As you wish, Majesty,” I lied, barely managing to keep the amused smirk off my face as he waved Aranthus to begin announcing us when the hall opened into a large reception area.
Each end held a fireplace, between which groupings of uncomfortable-looking chairs and sofas had been arranged. The paneling continued into the room. The upper walls had been hung with all manner of weapons. Heraldic banners hung down limply. Lord Sydney towered above most of the gathering, talking with three other men.
A silence slowly rippled across the room as we were spotted. The butler pounded his staff against the dark wood floor and didn’t stop until the crowd was facing us and the whispers died out.
Aranthus bawled out, “His Royal Majesty, King Reginald Warren Maceanas and companion, the Lady Illyria Sasha Caladonea Maison du Corbeau.”
All the assembled guests slowly sank down in curtsies or bowed low and didn’t rise until the king gave them leave. Earl Sydney came forward. “Your Majesty, thank you for gracing my home with your presence.”
The chamberlain bowed, shifting to stand behind me, saying just loud enough for those nearest to overhear, “If Lord Nicky doesn’t want the honor, you could marry her yourself.”
The earl appeared embarrassed, remaining silent as his countess made her way toward us, her eyes shooting daggers at me, mouth crimped tight in anger. Her two daughters and another woman trailed, as the king patted my hand idly. A move not lost on those who overheard the chamberlain.