by Guy Antibes
Grianna pulled Sara aside. “My, my. Now you outrank me! Who would have ever thought a young girl from Shattuk Downs... I didn’t know you owned your own estate.”
“My mother inherited it and Ben…” she couldn’t bring herself to call Ben her father, “Featherwood remains the Squire at this time.”
“Your father.”
Sara only nodded. A waiter circulated with goblets of wine. She took one and sipped, but she felt like gulping down the entire amount. Klark flashed by and gave her a kiss on the cheek and whispered his congratulations as he hustled out of the room. What curse had the King just laid on her?
“Now you’ll have to make the rounds with me,” Grianna said.
Sara groaned inside. Her thoughts turned to Belting Hollow’s Sewing Circle and she remembered how ill at ease she felt going there for the first time. Now, even with her title, she knew they wouldn’t let her into their circle.
A flutter of ladies soon surrounded her. Grianna began to introduce her to these women who, just moments ago, pointedly ignored her. Now they laughed and congratulated her rise to the peerage.
They barely let Sara speak as they introduced themselves and informed her of their status. Most of them were married to Barons, which gave them the title of Lady. Lady Grianna had been married to Lord Worthy who was a Baron. Knights were lifetime peerages that weren’t inherited, but only were acquired through the army. Inherited nobles went from Baron to Earl to Count (again, there were currently none in Parthy), to Duke. Sara had thought that she would be named the daughter of an untitled Lady, the lowest level of peerage. It’s what Grianna had expected. Handy had left off any mention of a title in his letters.
She didn’t intend to let this setback to her personal image stop whatever she wanted to do. After all, she had less than 5,000 gold crowns to her name. She couldn’t expect anything out of Brightlings in the near future. That was for Enos and Seb.
“Senior member of the Goldagle family!” a Lady Heather said. “I am astounded. I thought you were all extinct. I thought old Hardwell was the last.”
“The last time I met Duke Goldfields he didn’t seem all that old and he’s not really a Goldagle,” Sara said.
The woman’s eyes opened wide. “You know the Duke?”
“The Grand Duke of Shattuk Downs and he conferred with me, when I passed through Stonebridge on the way to Parthy,” Sara said. She didn’t tell a lie, but she would play along with these arrogant people. None of them had seemed genuine and Sara worried that her new title might keep her away from meeting with regular Parthians, like Banna and Doctor Hedge. She nearly laughed out loud when she realized that no one would consider them ‘regular’.
Sara endured more of the practiced condescension of her peers. They no longer treated her as if she wasn’t there, but they dripped disdain from every pore as they referred to other nobles whom Sara didn’t know.
Sara didn’t want to become like these people. As she smiled and responded politely, her other mind whirled with thoughts of doing things and going places. None of these women even asked a single personal question of Sara, everything was a studied attempt to put themselves in a position to preen about themselves. Lady Grianna had shown some gumption, even if her causes might not be the right ones, at least she tried to think outside of herself.
The king came over to her. He was a little taller, but slimmer than his brother, Duke Northcross. All of the women curtseyed and then Sara followed.
“Countess Sara, would you join us for a moment?” Sara looked for others, but then realized that the King was employing the royal ‘we’.
Sara bowed again and took the proffered hand of the king. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she’d be given a private audience. She glanced around the court at the many eyes on them—perhaps not so private.
“Our brother thinks highly of you and your actions in the past year, Sara. We do too. He was somewhat rash in presenting you such a handsome reward for your actions in our behalf, but we concur with the merit of the award and will extend it with a personal royal stipend of two thousand gold crowns per year until you have married. As the only Countess in the realm, we can’t have you going around destitute.”
Sara bowed again, “Your majesty, I don’t deserve such generosity. I hope to make my own way in life.”
“Nonsense. We are aware of your personal situation. Our brother knows all and sees all, even if it makes us somewhat uncomfortable at times, he is where he serves the Kingdom best. A stipend shall free you from making decisions that you may regret if you are trying to eke out a life as a single unattached woman. We are not too removed from our subjects to be oblivious of life in the realm. You may be as discreet as you wish about the stipend; it will be our secret and will be deposited in your account annually. The first installment was transferred from the Royal Treasury this morning. Obed tells me that you know about our time in Obridge.” His eyes seemed far away for a few seconds, but then he gave her an amiable stare. “Serve us well, Countess Sara.”
The king bent over Sara’s hand and kissed it. He gave the chamberlain a nod and left the Court.
Her audience with the King so dazzled her that she forgot completely about mentioning the Women’s College.
~
“I don’t suppose a Countess will want to continue to pursue our project?” Grianna said as they traveled back to her house.
“I’m still Sara Featherwood. What am I Countess of? Brightlings is hardly a County-level estate. It’s a farm with enough land to link it to mines in the mountains. Handy has played a trick on me and the King played along. I still believe in the Women’s College and perhaps my new title along with yours might make the project more of a reality.”
Grianna clapped her hands. “I do believe you’re right. It’s wonderful!” She grinned and looked very pleased. The woman’s emotions were always on display and Sara found it endearing except for the fact that West had influenced her before she did.
“I do have to warn you again about Duke Northcross. He is a terrible man. People he seeks can disappear and he has a string of human dogs to do his dirty work.” Grianna shivered. “He would come into our home to discuss unpleasant things with Lord Worthy.”
Sara would have none of it since Klark barked for the Duke. “He is aloof, serious and perhaps too inwardly focused on his own grandeur, but Duke Northcross is a dedicated man devoted to his brother. I’ve seen him at work. He is intimidating, I’ll grant you, but he acts quickly and decisively. I had some trouble in Shattuk Downs working on something with Doctor Hedge and when the situation turned bad, he was right there.”
“Doctor Hedge? The Duke’s scientist? You know him?”
Sara had opened her mouth a little too far. “I knew him at Obridge, where he was a professor. He had me perform a few errands for him. My friend in the palace grounds? He shares a house with him.” Sara had to turn the conversation. “How do you know him? I thought few people knew he was in Parth?”
“I, uh, a friend of mine. Former acquaintance told me of him and his work. His wife is Banna Thresher, you know.”
“Yes, I know. I spent Winter’s Rise in Doctor Hedge’s house. She came up to visit him.” Banna would be safely en route to Shattuk Downs by now. “They like to keep their marriage known to few.”
Grianna nodded. “Of course. Discretion. You’ve been discreet and now I see part of the connection. But Duke Northcross?”
“He went by an assumed name when I met him. Lord Pearstone.” Sara shrugged.
Laughter filled the air in the carriage. “Lord Pearstone? He’s got more of a sense of humor than I gave him credit for. Lord Pearstone is a mythical noble who is silly, supercilious and totally unaware that his fellow peers laugh at him behind his back. Duke Northcross is no Lord Pearstone, even if he assumes the name in the provinces.”
“I didn’t know.” So Northcross and the King were prancing around Shattuk Downs with a joke for a name. Sara could only shake her head, so that was what amused Ob
ed Handy. She tried to see the levity, but it was lost on her. It seemed utterly condescending.
“Here we are, Countess,” Grianna said as the carriage stopped at her house. Excitement filled her eyes. Perhaps Grianna might forget the conversation. Sara hoped so.
~
Lady Grianna invited Sara to accompany her to a party that night, but Sara didn’t desire to enter society. She dragged herself up to her room. Willa wanted to know every detail of her Court experience and wouldn’t leave until Sara gave her a full un-edited version.
The lights of the city, carriages with lamps and servants carrying torches to light the way for their masters and mistresses played across her ceiling, mixing with the flickering of flames in her fireplace. Sara’s eyes wouldn’t droop. She wanted to sleep, but the day’s big event wouldn’t permit drowsiness.
She had come to Parth to be useful and explore the city, see Klark, and be on her own. Now with her title and stipend, she felt more confined when she should have felt more free. Could she renounce the title? Practically speaking, she didn’t want to lose the stipend since it meant independence for an indefinite period. She could buy a tiny estate with a house the size of Brightlings with that money. Perhaps she could start a school, but Sara still didn’t perceive of herself as a teacher. Once she thought she’d like to travel around Shattuk Downs as a traveling scholar like Anton, but now that she knew more of what he did, the travel didn’t appeal. She had visions of every man in the area fawning over her like every girl fawned over Anton.
No, she felt like she had just lost control over her life. She looked on her dresser at the white square that was Duke Northcross’ card, reminding her that she was linked to him in more ways than one—she was even linked to the king! After her audience, the King plainly knew her origins and Sara viewed them as barriers like bars in a cell or like hedges in a maze that might confine her actions. Even her decision to travel to Parth seemed to be pre-ordained by some higher power that led Sara’s every move.
Options. She needed options and choices. She supposed she had some, but she couldn’t imagine not delivering the West version of the college proposal to Northcross. The king’s intimation of service made her think that Northcross could draft her into some scheme of his. She’d been there before and her Spring Break last year didn’t turn out very well. She shivered at the memory.
Ben Featherstone and dealing with Brightlings seemed to be a dilemma that now crossed over into Sara’s full control. No one else cared what happened to her home in Belting Hollow. Even with the town turned against her, Sara could do anything she wanted when she was twenty—even her new title would help legitimize her claim. She felt her anger build as she thought of her erstwhile father and found herself fantasizing about another horrid confrontation. She created a flame that burned above the fire in her fireplace. It seemed to take the sting out of her anger.
~~~
Chapter Eleven
Dangerous Encounter
Although Grianna wanted to celebrate with lunch and shopping, Sara couldn’t get the Duke’s card out of her mind. She had Willa call for a carriage and they bundled up the old proposal. Sara didn’t even use her new title as the carriage drove into the palace grounds. She didn’t feel like a countess before the audience with the king and she didn’t feel like a countess now.
Doctor Hedge opened the door to the house, with a napkin tucked under his chin. “A bit of lunch, you know,” he said, reddening a bit. He pulled it off when Sara stepped into his house.
“Did you forget to give me another Winter’s Rise gift?” he said, making Sara laugh.
“No. I have something for Duke Northcross.”
“I heard a rumor about you, young lady,” Doctor Hedge said. “Something about an audience with the King?”
“Something like that. It seems that I am now a countess.”
“Ah, an ‘Excellency’ title. You have come up in the world,” he sighed dramatically, “never again to touch an alcohol burner.”
“Don’t rule me out yet, Doctor Hedge. I just need a little more space from last summer. That assayer put me right off of lab work.”
Hedge offered Sara a pastry and some tea. “Whenever you wish to resume, just let me know. Now that you are the only countess in all of Parthy, I’m sure you can get dirty and stinky by my side again, if you will it, your Excellency.” He bowed.
Sara smiled. “I’d like that, but not now. These papers are to go to the Duke. Doctor West wrote them.”
“Oh, the College Proposal, of course. Klark has left town for a few days and this is more of his thing than mine. I’ll see that the Duke gets them.”
They talked of Banna and how the Tarrey Abbey College and Women’s School fared. She left Hedge’s house after finishing her pastry and tea, easily resisting the temptation to tuck a napkin underneath her chin like Hedge had done.
~
“Her ladyship would like to start on your new plan, if you have the time this afternoon, your Excellency.”
Sara growled and Willa gave her a rueful smile. “I know how you think about your new title, but be gracious when people address you properly. You owe it to them, Sara.”
“I suppose so.” Sara took off her coat and gloves and walked into the library.
“So where do we go from here?” Grianna walked in. “We weren’t able to talk to the king, your Excellency.”
Sara shook her head. “I’m only eighteen and can’t be called ‘Excellency’ the rest of my life. You can call me Sara like you did yesterday morning.”
“And you don’t have to call me Lady Grianna anymore. After all, those with rank can call each other by their first names… peers, you know.” Her eyes sparkled and Sara could see how attractive her hostess could be when she shed her supercilious shell.
“Good. Now let’s just let things sit for a bit. It’s always good to think about things for a while, as Doctor Hedge used to say. If you have an idea, just come in and make a note on the board.”
“Yes the mysterious Doctor Hedge. You said you worked closely with him?”
“I assisted him in some work last year,” Sara said. Grianna had already forgotten their conversation from yesterday.
“In his alchemical lab? Making gold from iron?”
“You can’t do that, but I helped him in his lab, like I told you.” Sara didn’t like the prying. Perhaps she spoke too soon about Grianna being attractive. Right now Sara felt like she was being interrogated.
Grianna peered into Sara’s eyes. “Discretion. I remember.” And she ended that topic.
Willa entered the room. “A summons for her Excellency.” She crossed the room and gave a note to Sara. Duke Northcross wanted to see her, but the note was unsigned. A little pear was drawn in after the message. Lord Pearstone. She wanted to ask him about that. Since the letter said at her earliest convenience she assumed it would include dinner.
“Oh. An admirer?”
“I am summoned to the palace. No name. I suppose I just give this to the guard?” Sara’s heart began to beat harder with an impending meeting with Lord Northcross, especially armed with the new information about their relationship.
“Yes, yes! Perhaps the King or it could be anyone. Not Doctor Hedge?”
“He would put his name on a note.”
“Well go by all means. No mention of a royal presentation?” Grianna bit her lip. “Wear one of your nicer dresses, a new one with a tighter skirt. Willa can pile up your hair.”
“Very well. Then I better get ready immediately.”
“I’ll accompany you upstairs, your Excellency.”
“‘Miss’ or “Miss Sara’ is fine in the house, Willa.” Sara gave her friend a squint of displeasure.
“Yes, Miss.” Willa pursed her lips and squinted back.
Sara sighed. The title had already become a tedious burden. It gave her a respite from her nerves, but then they cropped up again and her breathing raced ahead of her heartbeat.
~
Duke Northcr
oss’ office was located in its own building but attached to the King’s palace on one side. A man dressed in black and walking with a pronounced limp, led her through dismal halls to the Duke’s office—actually it was more than an office, having the feel of an apartment.
“Countess Sara, come in and sit,” the Duke said with half of a smile and pointed to a chair. At least he had addressed her by her title. He wore a wig and simple black and gray clothes. “I don’t know which is more bothersome, Countess Sara or Miss Featherwood.”
“A simple Sara would do nicely, your Excellency.”
“Ah, we could ‘Excellency each other, couldn’t we?” the Duke sat back, “Sara, then. I’ve had my men start on West’s proposal. You were right on the embezzlement scheme. We are continuing to look for threads to his activities here and in Shattuk Downs.”
“Lady Grianna had taken him on as one of her ‘projects’.”
“That woman. She means well, but she’s in way over her head with people who will ultimately do her harm. Is that how you see her?”
“I do—feckless in regard to her judgment about people. She can shed her shell and contribute. I worked with her all afternoon and she is smarter than she acts, although her ‘fecklessness’ is not an act. She’s impressionable and could use someone to mentor her.”
The Duke peered at Sara.
“Not me. I’m only eighteen.” She couldn’t take on such a role, at least not formally.
“Chronologically, Sara. Your mind is still growing, but you think like an older person.”
Sara didn’t know if she should have taken that as a compliment or as a general condemnation of eighteen olds everywhere. “I noticed the pear on your note.”
“Yes, yes. A little joke to myself. Do you know who Lord Pearstone was?”
“I found out yesterday.”