Amberley Chronicles Boxset II (Amberley Chronicles Box Sets Book 2)
Page 16
A small snort was the only reply from her noble visitor. Marianne was beginning to enjoy herself. “Do tell me what date you fix on for the engagement ball. George or I would not want to miss it, after having the Princess and Rook’s courtship begin right here in our house, so romantically.”
“Romantic? That does not sound like Rook.”
Marianne realised she had overdone it. “But the situation has romantic possibilities, wouldn’t you agree? A handsome young man and an unknown Royal bride … the only fly in the ointment is that claim by poor Miss Prentice that he is already married to her, but surely it will soon be forgotten. I confess I am worried about the girl. She’s still not found, as far as I know.”
“That has nothing to do with us,” Her Grace said dismissively. “I have never even met this foolish young woman.”
“And it looks unlikely now that you ever will,” Marianne said, recalled for the moment to the more serious side of life. “But let’s not mar this historic occasion, your first encounter with your future daughter-in-law, with such sad reflections. How gratifying for you to acquire a Royal Highness as a permanent part of your family! I really must extend my congratulations on this social coup.”
“Thank you, Marianne,” the Duchess said without enthusiasm. “How do Rook and the Princess get along, from your observations?”
“This is not the time and place to talk of it,” Marianne said, lowering her voice, “the Princess’s companion, Komtesse von Rosenfels, speaks perfect English. You will see how the young couple gets on at dinner tonight. I have only admiration for the way Rook is behaving, by the way.”
An hour later Marianne found her way to the nursery, to look in on her daughters and the other young guests.
Colin already had a visitor – his brother Rook. The two were talking earnestly in low voices, well away from the younger children. Colin had inherited his mother’s red hair, but the hazel eyes and tall build were all from the Breton side of the family. He looked too big for a nursery already.
“We missed you at tea,” Marianne said to Rook with a smile, “your step- mother met the Princess for the first time; a pity that you were not at hand.”
“How did they get on?” Rook glanced at Colin, who was listening avidly, and added, “Maybe you can tell me later.”
“The only problem was that your stepmother’s French is a little rusty. There was talk of an engagement ball to be given by your parents for you and the Princess in September. Something I said may have put the idea in your stepmother’s head.”
“I wish you hadn’t.” Rook shot her a reproachful look.
“It is necessary - you know that as well as I do - to keep up appearances. And with the preparations for the ball in between, the actual wedding is still at least three months away, by my estimate.”
“The dowry is not yet agreed,” Rook said, “who knows how long that will take, considering the distance between the north of England, and a principality in the south of Germany.”
“Exactly.” So Rook was still harbouring fantasies of escaping the noose. At least these extra months would give him time to resign himself to his fate.
“I’d like to meet this Princess of yours,” Colin said.
“She paid one visit to the nursery, but did not much care for it,” Marianne explained. “I’d rather not bring her back here. You can come down to tea tomorrow.”
“Mother won’t like it,” Colin said doubtfully. “She told my tutor to keep me away from the adult company.”
“Where is he, by the way?” Marianne had expected to find the boy at his lessons at this hour of the day.
Colin shrugged. “Taking down some letters from Father. Half the time he acts as his secretary, but he gives me assignments to complete in his absence.”
“You can accidentally meet us in the rose garden. I usually walk there in the afternoons with the Princess and her translator, the Komtesse,” Rook suggested. “Since she will be your sister-in-law as things look, you should certainly get to know her.”
“And you’ll be able to practice your French, which should please your tutor,” Marianne said, “I suspect you’ll need it a great deal in the years to come. The Princess is not willing to learn English, from what she has told me.”
Colin was appalled. “When she’s going to marry Rook? I know he’s good at languages, but does that not show a lack of commitment to him, to her new country?”
“She never wanted to come to England and marry me,” Rook said bleakly, “so I cannot expect any extraordinary commitment on her part. I do understand how she feels.”
“Well, I don’t,” Colin said. “I already hate her.”
“It’s not her fault, Colin,” Rook admonished his sibling. ”And she has a very able interpreter with her, the Komtesse Anna von Rosenfels.”
“But when you are married, she won’t be there to translate, will she? It would be funny to have another person sharing the breakfast table with you.” Colin grinned at the picture.
“Since I know French and some German, that won’t be necessary. This is a good example why it is important to attend to your language studies, Colin, you never know when they will become useful, or indeed necessary in later life.”
“I’ll marry an English girl, so it won’t be an issue,” Colin confidently asserted. “If I marry at all.”
“You’ll be expected to, if your Grandfather’s title is revived for you,” Rook said, “just as I am expected to marry, and carry on Father’s title, whether I want to or not.”
“Don’t you want to marry this Princess?” Colin asked anxiously. “I have heard some of the nursery maids gossip about it…”
“I will do whatever I have to do, as will you. Be glad that for you, such a decision is as yet at least ten years in the future. By then you may feel very differently about the matter, and find girls more interesting than you do now.”
“Oh, I already find them interesting,” Colin confessed with a slight blush. Marianne was hard put not to laugh at him. “But if you marry you have to forget all others, don’t you? That strikes me as impossible, with so many pretty girls in the world.”
“I see what you mean,” Marianne said, with a ribald glance at Rook, who had a strange look on his face. “Colin, it sounds like you are in danger of becoming a libertine, but most people tire of variety eventually. Then you’ll find the one girl who makes you forget all others, and it won’t feel like a sacrifice. Such things do happen, at least to lucky people.”
“Like George and you,” Rook said in a low voice, looking at her. “But if you are already engaged or married at the time, what then?”
“Rook? What do you mean?” Colin asked.
Rook gave a slightly constricted smile. “Oh, nothing of importance, Colin. I just thought of something that I cannot have. It can happen to anyone. As for your future wife, I advise you not to worry your head about it now, and let the future take care of itself. In the end it comes down to luck as much as anything else.” He turned to Marianne. “I’d better go attend to my fiancée.”
She nodded and watched his tall form leave the nursery, then went on to her own two darlings, relieved to find them in perfect health and spirits. She’d make very sure they never faced an unhappy match, the way poor Rook – and Gisela too, in her way – were doing at this very moment.
Chapter 26
Despite what he’d told Marianne and Colin, Rook did not go immediately to the Princess. While talking to his young brother he had managed to tamp down his fury with their father, but now it came out again, boiling hot like lava from a volcano, and not likely to burn out any time soon.
He fetched Jarl and went tramping about Amberley’s spacious grounds. It helped to be physically active, though a brisk walk was really not adequate to this particular situation. Rook would have like to charge at an enemy on his horse, as a medieval knight would have been able to do – at a giant, preferably. His ancestor Morel de Breton had once hacked off three bandits’ heads with a single stroke of hi
s huge sword, now hanging in a place of honour in their ancestral castle. These degenerate, too civilized times did not offer any such relief. In town Rook could have gone to Jackson’s boxing saloon for a bout of fisticuffs, but here at Amberley, who was even up to his weight? The only man who came close was his father. Rook was a shade taller than the Duke, a fact that gave him secret satisfaction. But against social convention and the demands of honour, his size and strength were completely useless. He was like Gulliver, tied down securely by a multitude of fine but unbreakable strings.
To Rook’s fury at his father’s callousness came another source of irritation: when Marianne had spoken to Colin about forgetting all other women, and marrying only the one, he had suddenly seen the face of his ideal wife before him … a face he saw at every meal at Amberley. A fine time to make this discovery, when he was bound to another! It was bad enough having to marry a woman you did not love and barely liked. Doing so while enamoured of another was unbearable.
He passed Lady Ariadne Saxon, rendering a clump of beeches with watercolours while her mother offered critical remarks. He had to stop to exchange a few polite remarks with the ladies and compliment the quality of the sketch, which was indeed a notch above most amateur efforts he’d been called to admire in the past.
“You look a little out of sorts,” Lady Gossing said, “I hope it is nothing serious.”
“Not at all, ma’am.” He was hardly going to unburden himself to the woman. Ariadne sent him a sympathetic look, but said nothing. Now that she was no longer batting her lashes at him, he found himself liking her better. Once she was married to someone else, they might even be friends in some distant future. After all, they ran in the same circles and would meet for hundreds of times yet.
“I must not distract you from your artistic efforts,” he told Lady Ariadne and went on. Maybe indoors he might find a quiet spot to think through his new predicament.
In the library he came across none other than the Komtesse, kneeling in front of a bookcase and looking through the heavy tomes on the bottom shelf in frowning concentration. She was wearing a light blue dress and looked enchanting; if he’d had the right, he’d have pulled her up for a kiss. Alas, all he could do was dream.
“Good morning. Are you interested in political economy, by any chance?” The book she was holding open reminded him of the volume of Adam Smith another pretty young woman had read to him the previous year, which he’d found rather dry.
“Political economy? Not particularly, at least at the moment,” the Komtesse – Anna – replied in her musical voice. “These are all the books I can find on Russia and Russian. A grammar is especially useful, but it does not adequately explain the pronunciation. I have found that it is dangerous to learn a language without hearing it spoken at all, one may so easily go wrong.”
“Indeed, it would be best to find a native Russian, or at least someone fluent in the language, from the beginning. Why are you planning to study Russian at all? Even if you go there, all educated people will be able to speak French.”
“Why not? Besides, one has to talk to simple people sometimes. And I like to keep my brain busy.”
“George has some good books on mathematics, -“
“No thanks, I know as much as I need, and was thankful when my governess stopped plaguing me with higher calculus. At least with a language there is a good chance that you’ll be able to use it sooner or later.”
Rook wanted to point out that mathematics also had many practical applications, but realised in time that most of those would not be open to a young female.
“That’s all I can find,” she said, getting up with an easy movement, still holding the book. “I’d better carry them to my room.”
“Let me help you,” Rook offered. She had pulled out eight books in all, and at least four looked very heavy. “You must be a very fast reader, since the house party will be over at the end of July.”
“I scan rapidly and linger on the more interesting parts – at least with travel descriptions like most of these,” Anna said. She handed him the pile of eight books. “I gladly accept your offer, since it is far, and you are much stronger than I. Thank you, kind Sir.”
As they passed the half-closed door to Marianne’s winter garden they heard what sounded like a muffled shriek. After exchanging a quick look with Anna, Rook dropped the heavy books down on a side table and pushed open the door.
The sight that met their surprised gazes was of Anthony half sitting, half prone in Marianne’s chaise longue, a book he had apparently been reading fallen to the floor next to him – or dropped, as he was grappling with a small but determined blonde, Lady Chloe. Had they been kissing? Rook met Anthony’s appalled and horrified gaze and immediately guessed the nature of the situation. Yet another of them trapped into an unwelcome engagement?
“Oh, I am so glad you two came in!” Chloe gasped. Her hair was slightly mussed. “Anthony was getting quite uncontrollable in his attentions!”
“Are you implying that Lord Pell compromised you, Lady Chloe?” Anna eyed the younger woman sceptically. “What were you doing in here with him?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Lady Chloe said, gnawing on her lips nervously. “We are in love – “
“No,” Anthony growled. “At least spare me the lies.”
“Nothing happened,” Rook decided, frowning at Chloe. “Anthony has spent the last hour in my company, playing billiards. There will be no engagement, at least not under such dubious circumstances.”
“But-,“ Lady Chloe pouted. “I am compromised!”
“Nonsense,” Anna said, “you were in the library with me, Lady Chloe. Nothing happened in here. Surely you are sufficiently careful of your good name not to proclaim that you were compromised, when all three witnesses say it never happened?”
Chloe looked around, and stamped her foot in frustration. “You are all the same – I hate you!” They waited in silence till she had left.
“Rook,” Anthony said, “and Lady Anna, I will owe you to the end of my days.”
“It could so easily have been me,” Rook said, thinking back to the way Lady Chloe had tried to charm him until his engagement. “It is dangerous for a titled young gentleman to be single. Just don’t fall into the same trap again. What exactly happened?”
“I was reading a book about China,” Anthony said, “she came in, and of course I rose – she waved me back down, and sat on that chair over there, prattling about the plants. I was getting uneasy and about to excuse myself, when we heard your steps outside, and she threw herself upon my bosom, and – err – began to kiss me. For a couple of seconds I was paralyzed with surprise, and before I could disengage myself from under her you had arrived. I saw my whole future flash before my eyes, tied to that devious baggage.”
“That devious baggage is a distant cousin of mine,” Rook said gloomily. “But how could she know someone was going to pass by?”
Just as he had spoken, Lord Tembley, Chloe’s father, arrived at the door, slightly out of breath. “Where is Chloe? I received a note asking me to come here quickly, she was in need of me.”
“A false alarm,” Rook said. “She is not here; all I know is that she was in the library with the Komtesse until recently.”
Lord Tembley looked at the three of them in puzzlement. “Then what was the message about?”
“An error, I believe” Anthony said. “You had best ask your daughter about it.”
“All right, I will do that – I’ll be off then.”
Once the earl was gone, Anthony said, “Rook, if there’s anything I can do for you in exchange for this last-moment reprieve, you have only to name it. You too, Komtesse.”
“You are welcome,” Anna said with a smile. “I have met young ladies like Lady Chloe before. They act as though butter wouldn’t melt in their mouth, but it pays to beware when they go after something they want.”
“She has been very particular in her attentions to you,” Rook remarked. “Were you not attracted
at all?”
“Chloe is pretty enough,” Anthony agreed, “but the way she instantly switched from you to me would have put me off in any case. I would like to be my future wife’s first choice, not just a stopgap when her preferred groom became unavailable. And after this ploy, I shall avoid her like the plague for the rest of my time here. I’m thinking of travelling abroad – by the time I return, with any luck, she’ll have snared some other fellow.”
“She’s not likely to wait for you, after this little scene,” Rook agreed. He turned back to Anna. “We still have some books to carry upstairs.”
When they arrived at their destination, Rook politely took his leave outside, and went off to his own room in search of solitude. Being so close to a girl he could not kiss was taxing his self-control. But his ancestor Timothy Breton had joined a monastery after his wife’s death and lived out sixty years in strict celibacy, by credible accounts. Rook would manage.
He could still think and dream freely, at least… as Timothy had probably done also, celibate or not.
Anna. Anna. Anna. It was such a simple name. A palindrome, spelled the same from the front and the back. Anna had a long and proud tradition, beginning with the Bible - Anna was relative of Mary. It was a royal name too – Anne had been a Queen of England just a few generations ago. In Mozart’s Don Giovanni, the virtuous heroine was named Dona Anna – Lady Anna. Why had he never realized that of all female names, Anna was the most interesting?
She was strong and clever and devious, the only attractive woman he had met in many months willing to give as good as she got. And her lovely voice, as strong in song as in argument… What magnificent quarrels one could have with a woman like her! And even more magnificent reconciliations… but that was dangerous territory. Dreaming was all he could allow himself with respect to Anna. Even saying the name out loud was dangerous.
Chapter 27
“The Breton family is almost complete,” Mr. Beecham said to Anna with a quizzical look, during the first course of another delicious dinner. “How lucky for us. When Minerva and I accepted Marianne’s invitation, we never expected such august company as your Princess, and a ducal couple.”