Amberley Chronicles Boxset II (Amberley Chronicles Box Sets Book 2)

by May Burnett

  His subterfuge was unworthy, he realised in these simple but solemn surroundings. He would speak frankly with Gisela, confess that he knew French, and see if they could come to some mutually acceptable solution – preferably one that did not involve marriage.

  Rook formulated a short but fervent prayer for liberation from the yoke of his unwanted betrothal, “in such a way that the Princess would not suffer or be humiliated,” he prudently added. He could not for the life of him see a way out, but the Lord in his infinite wisdom and power might yet help. Asking, and praying, would not hurt.

  When Mass ended he blinked at the sudden sunlight out in the churchyard. Waiting while the Amberleys greeted acquaintances and exchanged a few words with tenants, Rook felt distinctly more at ease, and even unreasonably hopeful.

  “A very pretty little church,” Gisela pronounced in her flawless French, to Lord Pell. “I suppose it is the duty of the local lord to encourage piety in the tenants by attending himself, and showing support for the Church of England.”

  “Just so,” Pell responded drily. “We must never forget to set a good example.”

  Rook caught the ironic look the Komtesse directed at the Princess, from the side, and changed his decision. He would try honesty with her first, and if possible convince the Princess’s companion to assist him in postponing or frustrating the wedding. If Anna was as clever as he believed, surely by now she had also come to the conclusion that his marriage to Gisela would only lead to mutual unhappiness.

  Chapter 24

  The Duke and Duchess of Ottway and their son, Lord Colin Breton, arrived the next day before Rook had found occasion to talk to Anna. The rest of Sunday had passed in dull contemplation and a short carriage ride in the afternoon, always under strict chaperonage.

  As soon as the ducal family descended from their travelling carriage, Lady Amberley appeared at their side, and offered to lead the new guests to their quarters. For once it would not be Amberley’s very best guest suite, occupied by the Princess, but the largest she still had available among the house’s thirty-six bedrooms.

  Young Colin was led off towards the nursery by his tutor as soon as he’d made his bows to the company, including Rook. The tutor, a sharp-faced man by name of Tolling, had ridden in the second coach of three. The boy looked mutinous but did not say a word in protest. At nearly twelve, he would be by far the oldest of the nursery’s inhabitants, and probably complain about the society of smaller children and babies. Rook would seek his brother out later – first he had a score to settle with his father.

  “Ma’am.” He bowed to his stepmother, who smiled at him – had he never noticed before that her smile did not reach her eyes? She was wearing a magnificent travelling cloak trimmed with fur, rather too warm for the season. The second Duchess had married his father in her early twenties, and was close to the Princess in age, possibly even a year or two the younger.

  “My dear boy,” her Grace said, “I look forward to meeting your betrothed. She is staying here, I understand?” She stood on tip-toes to sketch airy kisses in the general direction of his left and right cheeks, in the French fashion.

  “Indeed.” He was not going to argue with his stepmother here in front of Marianne and the servants, but suddenly his brothers’ suggestion that she was behind the unwanted betrothal seemed less outlandish. Her dear boy? When she was only a few years his senior? He could not recall her ever using the phrase before. He schooled his expression into impassivity. “You will meet her soon enough.”

  “Rook,” his father said, looking him over speculatively. “You look well.”

  “So do you, Father. We have to talk - privately, if you please.”

  His father’s hazel eyes, so similar to his own, met his in derisive acknowledgment. “As you please. Let’s meet in the billiards room in an hour.”

  Rook gave a short nod, and walked away. His father and he had only had a couple of minor skirmishes in recent years, as Ottway left his heir mostly to his own devices. There had not been anything like a real fight – the closest had been when he’d insisted on scratching Maratimba from the Oaks the previous year, while his father had insisted that the filly was fit to run. Rook had carried the day, absolutely sure of his horse sense, but the life of an expensive horse was trivial in comparison to the current conflict.

  Both men arrived in the deserted billiards room punctually. There was a slight bruise on his father’s cheek, as though he’d been hit by one of the cue sticks lining the wall. Who would have dared raise his hand against the duke? Likely it had just been a mishap, like running into a door.

  The Duke immediately went on the offensive. “I suppose that you are a little annoyed that I negotiated the marriage contract without involving you. It is your own fault, Rook, for dawdling so long over the matter.”

  “You still had no right.” Rook was glad that his voice sounded calm, almost mild. “But what’s done is done. I expected to receive a reply, however, to my questions about Princess Gisela’s dowry. Is there any problem about it?”

  The Duke regarded him incredulously from under his bushy brows. “I must say, you are taking this very calmly – so much the better, because we could not get out of the match without causing an international incident. As you say, what’s done is done, and Colin and his heirs will thank you for it in future years. As for the dowry, I did not reply at once because I am waiting for an answer myself, from the Prince of Obernberg. He is dragging his feet over the negotiations.”

  “Since that dowry is coming to me, you were taking a lot on yourself, to engage in actual negotiations without even informing me. I want to see the correspondence on the matter, and the agreement pertaining to the alliance itself, right away.”

  “Of course,” the Duke said, “I brought copies with me.” He regarded Rook with barely veiled derision. “You won’t be able to find fault with them, you know; everything is tied up right and tight, no loopholes anywhere.”

  “May I ask,” Rook still maintained his control, though with an internal effort, “why you did it? I cannot believe that Colin’s interest is so much more important than mine. Consider that my children will carry on the line. You have impressed upon me, I don’t know how often, that my choice of wife is crucial for the future of our House. Yet now you pick a woman who is in most respects completely unsuitable, and whose main recommendation is her rank – from a small foreign country, which will not do our descendants the slightest good. Eight years older than myself! Have you even met Princess Gisela?”

  For the first time, the Duke’s eyes slid briefly aside. “Not yet,” he said. “I was assured she is in good health, which is really all that matters. I trusted you to understand the advantages of the match eventually, and not to come to me with maudlin reproaches.”

  “If that were true, you would not have conducted the negotiations behind my back.”

  “Your generation is so full of stupid illusions, I could not be sure you would not have balked,” the Duke admitted without the least sign of compunction. “From your reaction now, I was quite right in my estimate. Is the Princess so objectionable? Remember, Rook, in the night all cats are grey – it hardly matters when you tup a woman how she looks and who she is. You cannot tell me that you would have problems in bedding any reasonably normal female. The age difference is not that important. If you can breed a son on her, well and good; if not, chances are that you’ll survive her to marry again.”

  “That is vulgar and extremely offensive,” Rook said, fighting his temper, “both towards myself and the Princess, who I consider another victim of your underhanded manoeuvres. I can see no hope for any domestic happiness and peace either for her or myself, in this extremely ill-assorted match you have saddled us with.”

  The Duke shrugged. “You can find love and passion and all that other nonsense easily enough outside of marriage. Most of your peers do so sooner or later, even if they enter their marriage mooning and writing love poems. The most beautiful and glamorous women in England will be
glad enough to be your mistress, whether married or not. As long as you are reasonably discreet, you can do whatever you want.”

  “Speak for yourself - I have no desire to live my whole life as a libertine, Father. You will rue the day you embarked on this course.”

  “Threats, Rook? Forgive me if I don’t take them seriously. Do remember who holds the purse strings. Your whole life, the horses you love so much, your home, all depend on my goodwill. Of course I felt I had the right to arrange your life, in view of that circumstance. And a very little reflection will show you that you have little choice but to acquiesce.”

  “So we have come to that.” Rook suddenly felt tired, and for the first time in his life, contemptuous of his father. “The purse strings, as you call them, are not as all-important as you believe. I see there is little purpose in prolonging this discussion, you are clearly determined to be unreasonable. It is as though we spoke different languages, with no chance of understanding each other. Be so good as to send the documents you mentioned over to my room. Please excuse me, I don’t have the stomach right now for any more of your nauseating advice.”

  “Wait a moment. Is there the slightest truth about this ridiculous article in the Society Argus, that you are secretly married to that widgeon, Miss Prentice?”

  “Of course not,” Rook said impatiently. “Don’t tell me you believed that nonsense for a moment. But then it seems you know me as little as I a find I know you.”

  “Even so, how could you allow the silly chit to go around telling all and sundry – and that scandal rag, - such a story, involving our family?” The Duke’s voice was coldly accusing.

  “Since I have no authority over the young lady, you must take that question up with her parents, who have just left for London.”

  Rook turned on his heels and left the billiards room. That had not gone well. Whatever happened, he would distance himself from his treacherous father, whether or not he ended up married to Princess Gisela. She would have to share his exile from the ancestral estates if she wanted to go ahead with the wedding – presumably her dowry would at least be substantial enough to tide them over for the next few years, though Rook hated the very idea of living on Gisela’s money. Maybe the prospect of poverty would turn her against the match? He might as well go and sound her out on the subject.

  ***

  The Princess being at her interminable correspondence, Rook only found the Komtesse to talk to. She was reading a book on a bench outdoors.

  “You look very serious,” Anna said, “is anything the matter?”

  “Nothing of major import. My Father and stepmother have arrived, with my young half-brother. You will meet them presently.”

  “Is the Duchess aware,” Anna enquired after a momentary hesitation, “that the Princess will retain her rank, and still outrank her after you are married?”

  “She will not like that,” Rook said in perfect comprehension. “I wonder if my stepmother has been told of this provision. Feel free to mention it to her, the sooner she accustoms herself to the notion, the better.”

  “Is the Duchess an amiable person?”

  “I hardly know, since I have not spent much time in her company since she and my father married. I was at school, and then after university had my own lodgings. You will have to form your own conclusions.”

  “Your evasive answer is clear enough. It only takes a few minutes, in my experience, to judge if another person is amiable or not.”

  “I disagree,” Rook said, “I did not consider you amiable when we first met, and yet now I wonder if my first impression was not mistaken.” He observed the shadow of a smile on her face, quickly suppressed.

  “That is a matter of complete indifference to me,” Anna said severely. “My own impression of your behaviour has yet to be modified. But it hardly matters either, since it is the Princess you must please, not me.”

  “As to that, will you be very angry if I confess that I speak French tolerably well?”

  Anna shrugged. “I already knew that.”

  “Through your maid, I imagine,” Rook said. “She likely knows much more English than she let on.”

  “It will be awkward to tell the Princess that you have suddenly mastered French,” Anna said thoughtfully. “Unless you care to stumble and pretend you are still learning?”

  “No, I’d better not do that. I am done with pretence. I am telling you this, Komtesse, because I need to talk frankly with the Princess about this engagement neither of us truly wanted.”

  “I understand better, now, why you would feel like that,” Anna said. “When I berated you that first day, I had no idea the marriage had been sprung on you so recently, without previous warning. You were understandably resentful, but some of the things you said then …”

  “I only said the most outrageous things to irritate you, after I realised that you would not translate them properly. Even in my annoyance I had to admire your skill in keeping our talk civilised. You are a most accomplished liar and actress, Komtesse.”

  “Thank you,” she said, unembarrassed, as though it had been a high compliment. “It is the diplomatic training from my father. Talking of him, you don’t happen to speak Russian, by any chance? I want to know at least a few useful phrases before I leave.”

  “No, and does your question mean you are really serious about this mad plan of travelling to Russia? What about your wedding to an Obernberg Colonel, that the Princess mentioned?”

  “It will not take place.” From the resolute tone and lack of regret in Anna’s voice, Rook felt momentary pity for the hapless fiancé who had clearly fallen short of the lady’s requirements.

  “I do not know the circumstances, but I am sure it is for the best,” he said. “He should never have let you come to England without him, to change your mind. It sounds as though he was laggard in love, and merits his lonely fate.”

  She nodded in agreement. “More than you can know.”

  Chapter 25

  The first meeting between Princess Gisela and her future mother-in-law took place at teatime. Marianne noted the slightly creased brow of the Duchess when she was introduced to the Princess, rather than the other way round. The Duchess was not quite as fluent in French as Marianne and Minerva, and visibly had to search for the correct words as she replied to Gisela’s polite enquiry as to her health, and that of the rest of the family.

  Her Grace of Ottway had never been among Marianne’s favourites. “Now that you are here, Duchess,” Marianne said bracingly, “plans for a wedding celebration and the future of the bridal couple will at last be able to go ahead. When are you planning to give a ball to celebrate the engagement? I assume the Princess will be staying with you after our house party ends at the end of July, until the wedding ceremony? Have you reserved St. George’s yet? But I suppose it will first be necessary to co-ordinate dates with the Royal Family, and Her Royal Highness’s own family, who will surely want to attend.” She looked at the Duchess in limpid enquiry.

  The Duchess blinked at this long list of activities spelled out to her in rapid French.

  “Such a ball would indeed be highly appropriate,” the Komtesse said before the Duchess had gathered her French words, and Lady Minerva nodded her agreement. “Everyone will expect it.”

  “Aren’t you already giving a ball at the end of this house party?” The Duchess was casting about for some acceptable excuse. “I thought that was your usual practice?”

  “It’s not the same, and besides our own ball is in honour of my daughter Verena’s sixth birthday.” That birthday was not due until November, but the Duchess was unlikely to know the exact date.

  Princess Gisela said nothing. She merely fixed her pale blue eyes on those of the Duchess, and waited in stolid silence. The two women were close in age, but in all other respects - height, appearance, background, - they were very different indeed. The red-haired Duchess was known to indulge in tantrums when things did not go her way, something that was hard to imagine on the part of the Ge
rman Princess. The one thing they had in common, Marianne reflected, was an ineradicable sense of what was due to their rank.

  “I shall have to discuss it with Ottway,” the Duchess said reluctantly, “I suppose some date in September would be the best time.”

  “I’m sure it will be a memorable occasion,” Anna said, and the Princess nodded, but with an indifferent air, as though a ball in her honour was too far beneath her notice to comment upon.

  “Will the young couple live with you after the marriage?” Marianne asked the Duchess in English, when the Princess was diverted by another guest. “I own I would not feel comfortable with a daughter-in-law who outranked me in the same house, but your good nature will surely be equal to the challenge.”

  “What do you mean?” The Duchess looked faintly alarmed.

  “Oh, were you not aware of the provision in the settlements, that the Princess would retain her royal rank for her lifetime?”

  Her Grace was silent for a few moments, as this unwelcome fact sank in. Marianne put an expression of false solicitude on her face. “If you want any pointers on how to cater to the Princess’s very precise requirements on protocol, feel free to consult me. In these last few weeks, I have gained some insight into the subject.”

  Before the Duchess could reply to this amiable offer, she was addressed by the Princess in French, and had to gather her wits to formulate a reply. A few minutes later she turned to Marianne again. “Does Princess Gisela have no English at all? I was not aware of this circumstance.”

  “No, I gather she considers our language ugly and barbaric.” Marianne smiled sympathetically. “Maybe you can change her mind. Look on the bright side - having her in the house provides excellent practice for our own foreign language skills. Princess Gisela speaks Italian and some Russian as well as her native German.”