His eyes narrowed, his mouth flattening into a jealous slant. “And where did you meet Garrett, Your Grace? It wouldn’t have been with Grandmama’s approval.”
Queen Majel laughed softly and clapped her hands. “Oh, Blackmyre, I had no idea that you’d provide such entertainment or I would have called on you more often. However, I’m regretfully not here for my own amusement. Unless you’d rather die, of course. I do typically find such final struggles at least somewhat entertaining.”
“Of course not.” Violet studied the Queen, trying to gauge how hard she ought to push. Sometimes a preemptive strike was courageous; other times, disastrous. The puissance wall loomed before her, unknown darkness threatening on all sides. My favorite kind of jump.
“Dottie, Dr. Miles, please take my men to the other room.”
Dottie opened her mouth like she’d protest, but a look from Majel sent the ladies scurrying to the door. Cole went because he’d always obey her orders.
Arthur gripped her hand and refused to be moved. To save him face, Violet pretended to ignore his presence. I just hope he doesn’t hear something for which Majel decides he needs to be silenced. The Dowager will turn over in her grave if I’m forced to lift a hand against the Queen.
“I hope your leak has been appropriately silenced, Your Majesty, though I admit displeasure that my life hangs in the balance so you could ferret out whoever was passing information to MIGS.”
Majel smiled and Violet’s nape crawled. Chills crept down her spine that had absolutely nothing to do with her illness. “Said leak is very effectively plugged, Blackmyre.”
“And MIGS?” Violet fought to keep her voice from shaking as badly as her hands. “I’m assuming they didn’t approve of me for Field Marshal, which is why I had such an unfortunate physical exam the very next day.”
“They feared you might be too effective in that regard and finally put an end to this intolerably long war, which would negate my willingness to look the other way while they drain my coffers to fund prohibitively expensive research projects. Though I may find MIGS useful yet.” Queen Majel opened the reticule on her lap and pulled out a simple-looking silver trinket box. “If I may, I believe I can resolve your unnatural case of consumption.”
Waiting, evidently, for Violet’s approval, the Queen simply held the object up before her.
Do I trust her?
If I have any hope at all of living to enjoy everything Arthur and Cole offer, then I have no choice.
“Your Majesty, I greatly appreciate any assistance you can provide against this horrible illness.”
Queen Majel stood and came closer. Holding her breath, Violet watched with not a small amount of trepidation as the box lowered to her chest. She braced for pain, lights, something…
Majel sat back down and continued to chat. “I believe you’ve been infected with a very small kind of programmable robot initially created by the late Royal Physician, the Duchess of Wyre.”
Violet had to concentrate very hard not to react to the infamous name. Wyre had disappeared, certainly, but no one truly believed she was dead, no matter how hard the Queen tried to convince them otherwise.
“She intended her invention to be used for significant healing, but naturally MIGS used the opportunity to create a virtually undetectable weapon. These miniscule robots have been tearing apart your lung tissue, but now I’m reprogramming them to heal the damage they’ve caused instead.”
The thought of tiny robots roaming around in her sent a lazor-sharp chill straight to her marrow. “That’s very kind of you, Your Majesty, but will you also be able to remove them once their job is done? I don’t care to have them roaming about my body indefinitely.”
“I believe so, but I admit that you’ll be the first person upon which I’ve attempted such an extraction. We must wait several days, at least, to ensure your health has been returned. I can only hope that MIGS hasn’t implemented new security procedures that will prevent the reprogramming, let alone the extraction.”
Violet closed her eyes a moment and listened to her body, trying to tell if anything was changing or moving inside her. How small are these things? Shouldn’t I be able to feel them burrowing into my tissues?
She shuddered and Arthur patted her shoulder soothingly.
“How will I know if you’ve been successful?” she asked faintly.
“Other than the fact that you haven’t yet expired?” Majel gave her a wry smile. “It will take a few days, but I’m confident in the person who provided this device, else I wouldn’t have risked your life. I need you in the war against Francia too much. Speaking of which, I’m not pleased in the slightest that you deprived Wellington of her grandson. We’ve lost too much ground on Iberia as a result.”
Queen Majel pinned Arthur with her gaze. “You must return to Wellington at once. I shan’t risk the entire Empire while you prance around with Blackmyre.”
The Queen’s choice of words made Arthur clamp his hand down harder on Violet’s, but his voice rang with determination. “I have absolutely no intention of ever returning to Wellington. She made it very clear that I am no longer welcome in our House.”
“Nonsense,” Queen Majel retorted. “She’s been looking for you frantically for days. And, by the way, she used her new temporary power as Field Marshal to see that the private school she sent you to was closed earlier this week after she discovered your disappearance. I myself can only commend whoever eliminated the treacherous schoolmistress who participated in sending free Britannian citizens to a slave auction.”
At least there’d be no repercussions against Arthur for killing the woman. Keeping her voice soft, Violet dared a delicate push to determine exactly how much Majel knew. “And the auction house where he was tortured?”
Majel’s head jerked around and she snapped, “’Tis no concern of yours, Blackmyre. I’ll see to that myself.”
The Queen’s spy network must be as tremendous and far-reaching as rumored. No wonder Dottie whispered every time she had a negative thing to say.
“Of course, Your Majesty. I fully trust your ability to mete out justice in this matter.”
However, Queen Majel wasn’t entirely appeased. “While you take command of my army and bring me Iberia.”
We’re not out of the woods yet. Violet held the Queen’s gaze steadily without showing any weakness. I might be on my deathbed, but the last thing I’m going to let you do is rob Arthur of his honor and House in one fell swoop. Even if his Grandmama is a heartless bitch.
“I believe Mr. Wellesley was commanding your army quite well, Your Majesty, whether he bore the formal title or not.”
Arthur made a small sound that didn’t even draw Majel’s gaze. After the days in the ring, Violet knew he’d gasped with shock. That she knew so much about his true identity, or that she intended to see his honor returned? She didn’t dare turn to look at his face and try to discern the truth, not until they were alone where she could reassure him.
Queen Majel smiled like a cat torn between eating the mouse or the canary first. She settled back in her chair. “Entertain me with your suggestions, Blackmyre. I’m feeling magnanimous today.”
“I think you should make his promotion official.” Arthur leapt to his feet, but she kept a firm grip on his hand and silenced him with such a fierce look that he immediately sat back down on the bed without saying a word. Though his glare promised that later he’d have plenty to say about it in private. I welcome the fight, pet. “He’s earned it.”
“Do you mean to suggest that I ought to name a man from a minor House the commander of the finest army in the known universe?”
“His grandmother was good enough to promote and she wasn’t even the one making the orders.”
“I know that, Blackmyre,” Majel said testily. “Else why do you think I promoted the damned fool in the first place? Wellington has no warfare experience, let alone a proven leadership record, much as your dearly departed mother.”
Refusing to be baited, V
iolet replied, “But my father did an admirable job for Blackmyre, didn’t he? He certainly helped her win your Cross, even if he wasn’t good enough to have the title of command. No, that honor went to my mother, even when he saved the battalion from her mistakes.”
“It was a different time.” Majel softened somewhat. “As well, your father was from a much less desirable background.”
“Which is more important to you—appearances or ability?”
“You know very well my answer to that, Blackmyre, or I wouldn’t be here to ensure Wellesley returns to his service. However, appearances do matter as well. I can’t snap my fingers and change centuries of tradition and law in one millisecond, no matter how much I may wish otherwise.”
“But—”
“Don’t you think I would rather my brilliant and talented son inherit the throne rather than my wicked eldest daughter? Or how about my firstborn son who died in the Kali Kata uprising? Surely he was more honorable, brave and deserving than the rest of my spoiled females, but his courage saw him dead before he was barely twenty. Even if I disown Jane on grounds of insanity—thus tainting House Krowe for all time—I’m left with daughters sired by a traitorous rebel.” Bitterness lined the Queen’s face, as well as untold heartaches. “And if one word of this is whispered outside these walls, I’ll see House Blackmyre extinguished so quickly and thoroughly that no one will even remember that you existed. If you receive any further information about these auctions, you shall contact me immediately and cease any further contact with them.”
Shaken, Violet simply stared at the Queen for a moment. It was easy to forget that beneath all the power and responsibility, Majel was still human, a woman and a mother, with the same difficulties countless other mothers faced with their children.
She could almost forget that Queen Majel had devastated countless planets in order to reap their resources for her own coffers. Hundreds of millions of other species had been killed during their assimilation into her great Empire. Her threat to wipe out House Blackmyre wasn’t idle. It’d been done countless times before in order to keep her crown secure.
She must sincerely regret my near death to divulge so many personal secrets. So use that to our advantage. “You could make him the First Duke of Wellington in his own right, inheritable by his sons. Granted, it’s a rare honor, but you have precedence and he’s more than earned it. That will elevate his personal rank and earn you some favor with the bluestockings demanding more men’s rights. Wellington won’t protest since she has no surviving heirs. Her only other hope to keep the duchy in her bloodline is for one of her grandsons to marry and have a daughter before her death.”
“I could…” As if deep in thought, Majel drummed her fingers on the arms of the chair. A smile flitted across her face that was almost playful, sending Violet’s alarms screaming with urgency. “Then he could provide heirs for your House as well as his own.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Arthur retorted. When both ladies arched a brow at him, he blushed and added, “Your Majesty, I beg your pardon, but surely you don’t intend for Her Grace to offer for my hand in marriage.”
It was all Violet could do not to climb out of bed and find her whip so she could drive him around the ring until he fell at her feet, exhausted, and begged her to marry him. I must be feeling better.
Majel held up a hand to silence whatever protest Violet might voice. “Whyever not, young man? You’ve been compromised by none other than the Black Duchess herself. You’ve been in her House without supervision for weeks now. There’ll be scandal,” she whispered in a perfectly shocked and titillated voice that made Violet crack a smile. “Kitty Parkenham wouldn’t offer for you before. She certainly won’t marry goods tainted by Blackmyre.”
“Don’t you want to marry me, Arthur?”
He kept his shoulders squared, head high, and avoided looking at her. “I only just began speaking to you, Your Grace. You certainly haven’t courted me formally.”
“If you’re going into maidenly protests and declarations of love, then I’ll take my leave.” Queen Majel stood and retrieved the silver box from Violet’s chest. Violet had forgotten it was even there. “The programming should have taken effect. Your color’s already improved, although due in part, no doubt, to your impending nuptials. I expect to hear the formal announcements shortly from you and Wellington. Only then shall I give your young man his dukedom.”
Arthur vibrated with tension, his entire body aching to explode into action. “Don’t I have any say in this?”
“Of course you do, pet.” Violet stroked his hand soothingly. “Yes, Mistress” is the appropriate response. “And the Field Marshal promotion?”
“If the Duchess of Blackmyre takes House Wellington’s newly appointed heir as her husband, then the Field Marshal position shall belong to you both jointly. That’s the best I can do at the moment, though I fear I may need a new admiral in the months ahead. How do you feel about flying the latest and greatest starship, Blackmyre?”
“It will be an honor, Your Majesty.”
Although the Queen had left, silence still weighed heavily in Her Grace’s bedchamber. Arthur held himself stiff and aloof, waiting to see what she would say.
Would she order him as the mistress to accept her hand in marriage?
Would she punish him if he refused?
Could they possibly continue to play pony games if they were married? Why would she even want to?
“I do believe I’m feeling better, though perhaps it’s psychological.” She stroked her fingers in circles on the back of his hand. “I hope you can forgive me, Arthur.”
His heartbeat quickened uneasily. “For what, Your Grace?”
“I knew who you were but said nothing. If Wellington has truly been trying to find you, then I’ve caused her upset by withholding information about your whereabouts. I was too selfish. I wanted to keep you as long as I could.”
His ears thundered with the frantic beating of his heart. “So that means you’ll let me go?”
“If that’s your wish, absolutely.”
“It would probably be for the best.” Then why does my stomach feel like a horse kicked me with both rear hooves?
“Why would you say that, pet?”
He pushed to his feet, unable to sit beside her any longer. “For many reasons.”
“I am known as the Black Duchess after all. Your grandmother will probably put a price on my head as soon as she finds out I’ve compromised you. I hope she can afford Lord Regret to assassinate me. Maybe then I’d be as famous as Lady Doctor Wyre.”
“That’s not what I was thinking at all.”
“No? Then surely you must be concerned about the Queen’s decision not only to name you co-commander of the army but also to make you an heir in your own right. That’s quite a heaping pile of responsibility and honor to be dumped on your head at once.”
“Of course I’m honored, Your Grace, but not at the expense of our freedom.”
“Oh, it’s freedom you want? I suppose you’re afraid I’d keep my husband locked in the stable.”
He forced out a shocked gasp of mock horror, but she had to know all too well that he wouldn’t mind getting locked in her stable on occasion. Especially if she gives me that blasted tail.
She laughed softly. “I suppose the servants would think me rather eccentric. Of course, the Queen’s cure might fail and you’ll find yourself a widower with my huge fortune at your disposal. That would be rather inconvenient, I suppose. You’d be swarmed by greedy titled ladies desperate to fill their Houses’ coffers.”
The thought of her death made his knees tremble enough that he knelt beside her bed and allowed her to take his hands in hers once more.
“Dearest Arthur, surely you know that I’ve come to love you during these days of training and play. That I would see to your every need and ensure your happiness with my utmost ability.”
He closed his eyes and bowed over her hands, pressing his forehead to her knuckles. “Why
would you wish such a crippled, violent man for a husband, Your Grace?”
“You challenge me. You’ve pushed me to become a better mistress, which makes me a better person. You’ve grown too. You’ve faced the darker side of yourself and embraced it. Only then can you be complete and whole. You were crippled before you came to me, Arthur. Now you’re on the verge of galloping in all your fierce glory. I only have one lingering concern.”
He brought his head up to meet her gaze. “Cole.”
“Yes. I love him too. If I survive this illness, I won’t give him up for any reason.”
“I’d never ask you to do so.”
She held his gaze. “But he wants you too, Arthur. He brought you to me because he wants us to share him. How do you feel about that?”
He avoided the question by asking one of his own. “You would do that?”
Her eyes widened. “Of course. I’d do anything to make him—and you—happy.”
“But…” He felt his ears charring again but the open candor in her eyes gave him the courage to continue. “What would make you happy? How could you find any enjoyment in knowing your husband might be dallying with another man?”
Heat darkened her eyes and softened her lips, inviting him closer so she could whisper in his ear. “When you took Cole before, did you enjoy it?”
Unable to speak around his heart that had somehow lodged in his throat, Arthur merely nodded.
“Were you sweaty and hot with need, Arthur? Did you grunt and groan with ecstasy as you rutted on him? Did he scream out his release when you climaxed in him?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, his face flaming at the memory. “God, yes. I was afraid I’d hurt him, but I couldn’t stop.”
“Then I’ll enjoy it a great deal, pet.” She laughed softly and combed her fingers through his hair. “As long as you allow me to watch, I will be very happy indeed. This is why it was so important that you begin to talk to me. I couldn’t ensure our mutual happiness without it. Is there anything else you’d like to ask me?”
He buried his face against her chest. “I want that bloody tail. I want it so badly I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t sleep. I keep dreaming the most scandalous horrible things but I can’t seem to help myself.”
Her Grace's Stable: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 2 Page 13