“Very well, then, Miss Emberton. Say what you’ve come to say.”
Ella nodded her head. “It seems as though the charges against Max are as follows: That he aided the princess in leaving the kingdom, in direct opposition to the stated wishes of the king; that he, in granting that aid, lied and deceived the entire court, including your royal Majesty; and that he consorted with me while technically being engaged to your daughter.” The king just nodded, but the whispers in the court swelled. Ella had all but admitted that Max had taken her virtue; and the assemblage wanted to know why. “Let us address the final charge first. Simply put, there is no law of the realm that forbids Max from spending his time with whomever he pleases.”
“While that is true, Miss Emberton, Wellesley has indicated to us that his interest is in quite a bit more than ‘spending time.’”
“Be that as it may, your Majesty, he still has broken no laws.”
“It is illegal for a peer from any of the great families to marry without my consent.”
“Max and I are not married, your Majesty.”
King Regal raised his eyebrows. The girl in front of him must desperately want to free Christopher. She had basically just announced to all the peers of the realm that she was Max’s mistress, and though the stigma for her would be great, it did cast their relationship in a light that would make it difficult for the king to exact any punishment for it.
“You’re fine with being a strumpet, then?”
Ella’s spine stiffened. “If that’s what it takes.”
“Clever girl. Go on.”
“Very well. Your second charge, that Max knowingly deceived everyone, seems like the basest form of hypocrisy, your Majesty.” One of the onlookers hissed, but Ella remained firm. “The court is rife with deception and intrigue. Paramours lie about their whereabouts during their assignations, lords lie about their business interests, and courtiers lie to you, your Majesty, about their feelings regarding your rule.”
“Business deceptions, and white lies about my own bravery or wisdom hardly seem the same, Miss.”
“Perhaps they aren’t, your Majesty, but that speaks to Max’s intent. I have yet to speak about his intentions. I merely wish to clarify: if you judge that his core motivation was not criminal, then he cannot be held accountable for the lies he told.”
“Have you had some training as a barrister, Miss Emberton?”
“I have had experience in speaking clearly to those who wish to deny logic in favor of their desires, your Majesty.” Ella spoke with no inflection, but the king could hardly miss her point. The nobles didn’t miss it, either, judging by how deadly quiet they went.
“Speak on, then, Miss Emberton.” The king’s voice was dry, but he didn’t seem inclined to take immediate offense. Ella swallowed hard. Her third point was the hardest.
“First, your Majesty, I think it is worthwhile to point out that, in aiding Princess Vivienne, Max was following a royal command.”
“That hardly signifies. If a member of the royal family chooses to depose the rightful king, following orders that lead to that deposition is still unlawful, even if the orders come from royalty.”
“True, your Majesty, but that is because rebellion against the crown itself is unlawful. Max did not assist in an unlawful action. You had never actually commanded the princess to remain here.”
“He went against my wishes.”
“Forgive me, your Majesty, but going against your wishes is not unlawful, merely unwise.”
The court was silent. The king was silent. Max’s father was looking at her with surprise and speculation. Ella turned to the Dame, and found her beaming. At least someone was happy with her display of logic. When Ella heard the king clearing his throat she turned back to the throne.
“So what you’re saying,” King Regal spoke carefully, like a man holding himself strictly in check, “is that Christopher merely went against my wishes, which is not unlawful.”
“That is what I am saying, your Majesty.”
“And, your further implication is that, of course, I cannot punish him for merely going against my wishes.” The king’s emphasis worried Ella, but she wouldn’t turn aside now.
“Not if you are just, your Majesty.” She held his eyes for just a moment, and then sank back to the floor, lowering her head. She had made her best argument. Now she would wait. The king paused a long moment before he spoke.
“Your Goddaughter has the mind of a serpent, Madam,”
“Why, thank you, your Majesty.”
“Vivi would probably have liked her. I do not. I’ve never cared for anyone who disagreed with me. That she assisted in my daughter’s disappearance, and now has the gall to appear before me and insult me before the peerage, that is merely adding insult to injury.” King Regal’s voice was lazy, and dangerous. “What shall I do with this Goddaughter of yours, Fae? She has come here, and placed herself in my hands; should I not take the chance to wreak a little vengeance on her?”
“As my Goddaughter said; not if you are just, Regal.”
The stillness was profound. Ella trembled, but dared not raise her head. Just when she was starting to fear she’d collapse in a heap, the king spoke again.
“Go on, take her and get out.”
Dame Merriweather didn’t speak, merely gently helped Ella up and then turned and walked away. Once they were a few paces away, Ella spoke in an undertone.
“What will happen to Max?”
“Only time will tell, my darling. But the king was right about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You are a clever girl.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ella sighed and leaned back, stretching her sore muscles. She was at her writing desk trying to wrap up some paperwork—the lease, fabric purchase orders, and the like—but she just couldn’t concentrate. The early winter storm battering the windows might have had something to do with that, or the over-stoked fire in the grate that made everything unpleasantly warm, or the restless feeling she was getting from sitting still so long. Likely, though, it was the shrill chatter carrying down the hall from the parlor.
Ella tried to ignore it and keep on with her stretches. This was at least their seventh caller intent on hashing over the news. Their seventh caller today. Unfortunately, she couldn’t block her ears. She kept waiting for the one that would know how it all ended, but so far they all stopped at the same point in the story. It had been two days since her visit to the king, and no one yet had heard a word of what was going to happen to Max.
Their friends were calling again, the wedding planning had commenced in earnest, and life looked like it was returning to normal. All except for Ella. She spent her days immersed in work or pacing the floor. For the most part her family had left her strictly alone, preferring to talk about the great “love story” with their neighbors rather than experience the effect it was having on Ella.
There was a knock on the front door, and Ella heard Prudence offer to answer it. With the upcoming wedding preparations they were going to have to do something about a doorman, or at least a housekeeper. They would all be far too busy to keep running to the door. At least hiring a doorman was possible, now that...
An uproar began at the front of the house and was quickly taken up in the parlor. Ella sat stock still, staring across her desk at the closed study door. News. News had finally come, and she was petrified of it. She couldn’t move. Then the door banged open, and for a moment Ella felt sure she was dreaming, for instead of a neighbor with the latest broadsheet, there stood Max.
His clothing looked slept in and he obviously hadn’t shaved in days, and he was the most glorious thing Ella had ever seen in her life. She never could remember how she got around her desk and across the room, but for the rest of her life she remembered the feeling of being wrapped in Max’s arms, knowing that he was neither dead nor banished, but here, with her, where he belonged.
“Ella!”
“Max!” Tears were stre
aming down her face, and she burrowed into his chest. “Your head’s still there. I’m so glad. I would have hated... I mean, I wouldn’t have... I mean... It’s just so much more attractive on your shoulders.”
He didn’t laugh, because she was so obviously distressed, but he wanted to. As soon as he was free he had rushed over here, but he hadn’t been sure what reception awaited him. Given the way Ella was clinging to him and her relief at his non-headless state, he assumed she had forgiven him. Still, there was something that needed to be said.
“Ella, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Her confusion was adorable, clearly she hadn’t been expecting an apology.
“Yes, you know, the thing that you are when you feel remorse?”
“Oh Max...” Ella’s eyes were shining through the tears. “I’m sorry, too. I heard what had happened, and I realized that you had gone and told everyone so that I wouldn’t have to give up my shop, and my dreams, and everything. But when no one knew where you were, or what was going to happen to you I thought... I thought...” her voice caught. “I thought I might never see you again. And then I realized that none of the other things mattered, that I never should have tossed you out.”
Max was relieved. He’d been prepared to grovel, and here she was, apologizing to him. He started to say something kind, and forgiving, but then her eyes narrowed. Uh oh. First one small fist lifted, and then the other, and before he could stop her both were beating furiously on his chest.
Ah. Maybe groveling was in order after all.
“I’m sorry.”
“You fool!”
“I said I’m sorry!”
“You idiot!”
“Ella!”
“I—am—very—mad—at—you!”
Max caught her hands in his own.
“Ella, Ella, Ella... I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am sorry I am an idiot, and I am sorry I wasn’t truthful. I am sorry I risked my well being and I am sorry I worried you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. If you will forgive me I will promise to never do any of it ever again. Except be an idiot. I can’t seem to help that. Especially when I am around you.”
He looked at her. When he saw her start to smile he threw back his head and laughed, and then grabbed her and spun her around. As they came to a stop he dipped his head down to kiss her, but the sound of someone clearing their throat stopped him.
“Ahem... Ella? Would you introduce us to your caller?
***
Max was ensconced in the great chair in the parlor. He had maneuvered to sit next to Ella on the couch, but the lady of the house had bustled and rearranged until he was seated before all the others like a player before the audience. It was clear he was stuck until he had given them all what they wanted, so without further ado he had launched into his tale. He was just getting to the bit they were all most fervent about.
“... and when he said that I just lost my temper. I told him that Ella had helped us the night of the ball out of loyalty to Vivienne and loyalty to me, and if he was going to object to loyalty then he would soon find himself king of no one.
“That’s when he had the guards take me away. They just locked me in a guest room. One of the pages brought me some food and a note from the king saying he had to think about what to do with me, and I was bloody well to stay in that bloody room until he bloody said otherwise. So, I sat around for a few days, pulling my hair out. This morning another note was delivered. Here, I’ll read it to you.” Max pulled the crumpled paper from his jacket pocket.
“Wellesley,
As a father, I’m glad Vivienne has a friend like you. As a king I have to say you make an abysmal subject, but as your Miss Emberton has pointed out to me, you have not broken any law of the land. As a father I would like to wring your neck, and since I am king no one would stop me.
Go find your seamstress. Tell her I’m sorry about calling her a strumpet. It’s not her fault you’re an idiot. Don’t come back to court until I calm down. I can’t say whether I’m more a king or a father.”
The room was silent for a moment, then one by one the callers made their farewells and left. Parlors in the city would soon doubtless be filled with the news. Millicent left to go find Sir Henry, and Beatrice and Prudence, with one look at each other, made a very obtrusive exit to go “do something upstairs.” Soon Max and Ella were sitting alone in the parlor.
Ella looked at Max. “So I’m your seamstress, am I?”
“Perhaps he was speaking in the literal sense. You have done some sewing for me.”
“After the way you confessed to save me, and then defended me to him? I think not.” She said it so quietly, but decidedly. Max felt a rush of love. His seamstress. His Ella. His.
“Does that mean that I’m your Max?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come off it, Ella. I know you went to the king and pleaded for me. You defended me as much as I defended you.”
“I suppose I did. Yes, I guess that makes you my Max.” She blushed. Max thought it looked wonderful.
“I have an important question to ask you, but before I do, in the interest of full disclosure I should probably tell you that I may never be readmitted to the court.”
“I’m sorry, Max. Do you regret it?”
“I don’t see how I could. I’ve helped Vivienne have her wish and I’ve found you; what could I regret?”
“Losing your place at court? Losing the king’s regard? Angering your father?”
“Court was never that entertaining, and I assure you that your regard means much more to me than his Majesty’s.” Ella smiled. “My father will come around. I hope. After all, he loves me. But he is very angry. He’s disowned me.”
“Does that mean you’re penniless?”
“Almost.”
“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I have such a thriving business, isn’t it?”
“Thriving?”
“Apparently my part in the recent scandal has made my designs the most recent “must have” item among the gentry. I’ve leased a bigger space and ordered reams of cloth. I’m even going to have to hire an assistant.”
“Maybe you could teach me to sew?”
“Was that your question?”
“No.”
Max dropped to both knees in front of Ella. He put his hands over her own, which were resting on her knees, and leaned forward so that he could look up into her face.
“Ella, I don’t know when I first started to love you, but I suspect it was the moment you told me how you truly felt about goose liver.” Ella gave a small giggle, but didn’t interrupt. “I want to spend my whole life with you, even if it means I have to learn how to sew. Would you do me the very great honor of agreeing to marry me?”
Ella slid forward off the couch.
“I suppose you do need someone to take care of you.”
“Indeed. I’m hopeless.”
She twined her arms around his neck, drawing him down.
“And you have excellent color sense.”
“I would be a brilliant assistant, I’m sure.”
Her mouth brushed his, once, twice, and then hovered, giving her just enough space to reply.
“Then I shall marry you. But you will have to promise to keep me happy.”
Max gave her a long lingering kiss. Another would follow, and then another, and another, but first he had an answer.
“Indeed I will. Ever after.”
EPILOGUE
Max and Ella sat beside the fireplace in Max’s study, each reading a letter. Ella had called Clara back to serve as their cook, and a plate of her divine cookies sat between them; Greta had delivered them along with the tea. Max’s letter was from his father. Duke Wellesley was writing to tell Max about the filly he was breaking. He had presented the filly to Ella as a gift this yuletide, and was planning on giving her riding lessons when they went to the country estate in the spring. Max grinned. His wife had completely charmed his father, to the point where the old duke would stoutly decla
re to anyone who’d listen that she was a lady worth defying a king for.
Sadly, the king hadn’t come around yet. With the duke once more staunchly behind his heir, it was assumed that eventually she would be invited to be presented at court, but thus far no invitation had arrived. When Duke Nathaniel had written to request permission for his son to marry, a very brief note had been sent back, granting the permission, but warning that neither heir nor wife were welcome at the palace. The missive Ella held, in fact, was addressing that very topic.
Don’t fret, my darling. You and Max have each other. His father adores you and everyone adores your work. Be patient. His royal stubbornness will come around. I am writing him as well, and you may rest assured I have not held my tongue on the subject of his silly grudge. I suspect that all he really needs is to see his daughter again, and then he will let bygones be bygones, but no one has been able to find Vivienne, and the mountains are nigh impassable this winter.
Since I specialize in the impossible I have decided to go and fetch the headstrong girl. It means I shall be out of town for a while, but never fear. Should you need me you have only to call, and I will come. In the meantime, make sure you and Max take fine care of one another, and know that I send you all my love.
Your Godmother
“What does the Dame say?”
“Be patient and love one another.”
“You know my dear, I believe that is an excellent suggestion.”
Both letters dropped, forgotten for a time, by the fireplace, while Max and Ella very thoroughly followed her Godmother’s advice.
Dear Reader,
Well, you’ve reached the end. If you’re anxious to find out what happened to Vivienne, never fear, book two is on the way.
Before the Midnight Bells Page 19