“That would be half the men in London.”
“I’ll start with the first one,” said Liza. “Sir John has to suffer for what he did to her.”
“The Conroys of the world don’t suffer for the likes of Annie.” Will shook his head. “Liza, love, he’s out of reach.”
Liza was thinking furiously. “Except for the press. He can’t stop your broadsheets. You came to the monument for a story, Will. Let me write it for you.”
“There’s no profit in it,” he said. “A gentleman taking advantage of a maid is too common a tale.” Will took another sip of syrupy coffee.
“This ending isn’t. Nor are the players. A powerful man, close to the Princess, abusing his power over a poor maid until she destroys herself? Your readers would pay for that.”
He shrugged.
“Please? It’s the right thing to do, regardless of how many sheets you sell.”
Exasperated, he said, “We’re back to this. You want me to choose a side: Sir John’s profits or your justice.”
“Will,” Liza said simply, “you’ve already chosen.”
Liza slumped against the side of the carriage. She didn’t look up as the gravel of the Palace drive crunched under the horses’ hooves. Kensington Palace looked eerie and quiet. Could it only have been a few hours ago she had left Victoria in the park?
Simon jumped down and opened the door.
“Thank you for your help,” Liza said in a low voice.
He shook his head sadly. “What happened ought not to have. But there’s nothing more to be done for Annie now.”
“You might be surprised.” As Liza turned toward the servants’ entrance, she said, “Sir John may discover it’s a mistake to ruin a maid.”
Simon looked about and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Liza, watch yourself. Sir John is not a man to cross. The lass, God rest her soul, will still be dead.”
Liza raised the knocker on the servant’s door, but before she let it fall, the door swung open and a hand reached out and pulled her inside the Palace. Nell’s eyes glowed like a cat’s in the dim hallway. “They want to see you the moment you return.”
“Who?”
“Sir John, the Duchess, Mrs. Strode, and the Baroness,” Nell answered.
“Of course. And I want to see them.”
Looking sidelong at Liza, Nell noticed her skirt. “What happened to the Princess’s riding habit? Is that blood?”
Liza looked down at the soiled fabric. “There was…an accident.”
“Oh, Miss Liza,” Nell moaned, shaking her head.
On the family’s side of the green baize door, the rooms were blazing with light. Liza’s shadow preceded her in sharp relief, as though eager for the coming scene. Angry voices could be heard in the Duchess’ drawing room. Nell squeezed her hand and scurried away. Liza took a deep breath and opened the door.
The Duchess was pacing. Her face was flushed, and coils of hair were tumbling out of her elaborate coiffure. Mademoiselle Blanche stood in the corner, her lips curved in a sly smile, holding smelling salts at the ready. Mrs. Strode’s formidable head was cast down and her hands clasped together at her waist. The Baroness sat in the corner methodically chewing on caraway seeds. The Princess was nowhere to be seen.
Sir John, the one Liza most dreaded seeing, stood at the fireplace as though he owned the Palace. When she saw him, her stomach began churning and bile rose in her throat.
“You! You wicked girl,” The Duchess shrieked at Liza. For once, she remembered to speak English. “You let the Princess consort with a commoner!”
Before Liza could answer, the Duchess went on, “And if that wasn’t enough, the Princess wanted to go off on some adventure in the slums.” She jabbed a finger at Liza. “And you, Miss…Miss…would have let her go!”
“No, I didn’t—” Liza began.
“And you stole my carriage! I’ll have you jailed!”
Liza tried again. “The Princess lent it—”
“As if the Princess has any authority in this house!” The Duchess turned her ire on the Baroness. “Lehzen, you assured me the girl was of good moral fiber, but she’s a liar and a thief.”
“Your Grace, once again the Baroness has placed someone unsuitable around the Princess,” drawled Sir John. “Remember the previous maid? Lewd, she was. The Baroness lacks the necessary judgment to be Victoria’s governess.”
The Baroness said nothing, but her broad shoulders tensed from fear. Liza’s heart sank. She had expected to be blamed, and rightly so. Her friendship with Inside Boy and her curiosity about Annie had led her to this moment. But now her rashness had put Baroness Lehzen at risk, too. Sir John might find a way to get rid of the Baroness once and for all. Victoria would be left friendless and alone.
With Annie’s lifeblood on her skirt, Liza could not bear to let Sir John win again. She cleared her throat and said as firmly as she could, “It’s not the Baroness’s fault Sir John seduced Annie Mason.”
The room was silent.
Liza spoke quickly before Sir John could deny it. “Annie Mason was dismissed because she was carrying Sir John’s child.”
The Duchess’s mouth dropped open, and slowly her eyes turned from Liza to Sir John. The Baroness stared ahead fixedly. Mrs. Strode’s mouth moved as though she were praying.
“It’s a lie!” exploded Sir John. “The slut was thrown out; she’ll say anything to discredit the family.”
“It’s not a lie. She delivered the baby in November!”
Sir John stepped closer to Liza. “Lying piece of baggage!” He raised his hand as if to hit her in the face. Liza stood her ground. For the first time, her eyes were not afraid to meet his.
“Sir John!” The Duchess’s face paled. “There will be no violence in my drawing room!”
“I beg your pardon, Duchess, but these accusations are absurd.” With obvious effort, he brought his hand to his side and composed himself. “That baby could be anyone’s.”
“You deny you ruined her?” Liza asked. Her stomach ached with all of her anger.
“Of course I do.” He fidgeted under Liza’s stare. “And even if I did—what does it matter?”
Unexpectedly, the Duchess contradicted him. “It would matter to me,” she said. “Lehzen, what do you know of this?”
“Nothing, Your Grace. Mrs. Strode told me Annie was dismissed only after she was gone,” said the Baroness grimly. “I was not consulted.”
The Duchess’s face puckered in confusion. “Mrs. Strode—why did you dismiss her?”
“Sir John said it was necessary,” Mrs. Strode said in the intonation of the perfect servant. No one looked at Sir John.
The door opened and Nell came in. Everyone’s eyes followed her as she handed a folded note to Sir John. He slowly read it through. A smile crossed his lips before he controlled his face again. He shoved the note in his vest pocket.
“Let this Annie accuse me to my face,” he said smoothly.
The Duchess looked doubtful. “If she’s just had a baby, can she travel? When I had Victoria, I was laid up for months. The Duke made me come from Germany during the final month of my confinement so Victoria would be born in Britain. Sir John, do you remember?”
“Your Grace, I do recall.” Sir John closed his eyes for a moment. “But to the matter at hand, bring the girl here so everyone can see how ridiculous these charges are.”
Liza stared at him in dismay.
How does he know Annie can’t bear witness against him?
“She’s dead,” Liza muttered. Her hand touched the still moist blood on her skirt.
“What? What did you say?” asked the Duchess.
“Annie Mason killed herself today.”
“If she would do such a wicked thing, then she would not hesitate to lie about Sir John.” The Duchess glanced over at Sir John, looking for his agreement. His expression was so smug, Liza wanted to slap his face.
The Baroness spoke in her gravelly voice, “What about the child?”
“Well girl? What about this mythical baby?” asked the Duchess.
“Dead,” muttered Liza.
“No girl. No baby. Sir John is completely cleared.” The Duchess beamed. “The only thing left is to punish you for your wicked tale telling.”
“Your Grace, she cannot remain here,” said Sir John.
“I agree, Sir John. She’s a liar and a bad influence on the Princess. Mrs. Strode, send her packing.”
Liza had expected it, even thought she deserved it, but now it had happened. She was on the street. Like Annie.
Why don’t I care?
“Yes, Your Grace,” Mrs. Strode said.
“Very well.” The Duchess had lost interest. “Come, Sir John.” He placed her hand on his forearm and escorted her out. Mademoiselle Blanche followed her dutifully, but she could not resist giving Liza a triumphant smile on the way out.
Liza remained standing alone. The little security she had found after her parents’ death was gone. She barely heard Mrs. Strode conferring in whispers with the Baroness. Mrs. Strode left without a word, leaving the Baroness alone with Liza.
“Liza,” the Baroness said.
“Yes, Ma’am?” said Liza, her voice as tired as she felt.
“Are you certain it was Sir John who did this to Annie?”
“Yes. She told me so.”
Heaving herself out of her chair, the Baroness sighed. “Victoria told me you prevented her from accompanying you today. It cannot have been easy; she’s headstrong. I’ve prevailed upon Mrs. Strode to let you stay the night. And I’ll write you a good character.”
That was more than Annie had. Bitter and exhausted, Liza knew she needed to express some sort of gratitude. “Thank you, Baroness.”
“Get some sleep, child. Do you know where you will go?”
“No.” But she did know who would help her. Will would be relieved if she left the Palace. If only she didn’t feel as though she had failed everyone: Annie, Inside Boy, Victoria, and even Baroness Lehzen. “May I say goodbye to the Princess?”
“That would not be wise,” said the Baroness.
So Victoria was to lose another friend without a word of explanation.
“Goodbye, Liza.”
“Goodbye, Baroness.”
Liza forced herself to walk to her room. She removed the bloodstained riding jacket as quickly as she could undo the buttons. She couldn’t quite reach the hooks in the back of the skirt. A moan burst from her throat; the dress had become intolerable to her. Another angry tug and the fabric tore away from the hooks. She balled it up and threw it the corner where the slope of the gable met the floor.
Liza pulled out her trunk but couldn’t face packing. She threw herself on her narrow bed, pulled her blanket over her head and cried until she slept.
“Liza, wake up!” The Princess’s high-pitched voice pierced Liza’s sleep.
Liza tried burrowing deeper under the blanket, but the Princess wouldn’t give up. She knocked again. Liza stumbled to the door and slid back the bolt.
“Princess, leave me alone!” Liza’s aching body made her tactless.
Princess Victoria stood in the doorway, her eyes closed, counting silently.
“What are you doing?” asked Liza.
“Lehzen tells me to count to ten if I’m going to lose my temper. I’m up to twenty-five, Liza.”
Hearing the unmistakable royal warning, Liza asked wearily, “What do you want?”
“You’ve no idea of the trouble you caused,” the Princess said coming in and closing the door carefully behind her. “Mama and I have been fighting all day. I don’t know why I should suffer Mama’s temper while you have all the fun.”
Fun.
Liza sank back to her bed and began to cry silently. The Princess sat next to her and awkwardly placed her arm around Liza’s shoulder.
“Tell me what happened, Liza,” she insisted.
Liza shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”
“But I do. Tell me.” Even when the Princess was kind, she couldn’t help issuing orders. So Liza laid out the sordid tale for the Princess. Annie’s seduction by Sir John was no surprise. But when Liza began to talk of Annie’s life of prostitution, Victoria moved her arm away from Liza’s shoulder. Liza didn’t care. The more Liza spoke, the more outraged she became. She described in detail how Annie was beaten because she refused to abort the baby. Sir John’s baby.
“Liza, stop,” the Princess cried. “I’ve changed my mind, I don’t want to hear anymore.”
“Princess, you told me you liked Annie. You need to hear the end.” Liza described the Mary Magdalene house, and Annie’s dead child. The Princess clasped her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes tightly together. Past caution, Liza pulled the Princess’s hands away from her ears and recounted every awful moment until Annie’s body plummeted to the ground.
At the end, the Princess’s face was pale. She stood up and smoothed her nightdress. “Is there anything I can do for Annie now?”
“You’re too late,” Liza answered brutally.
“Why are you angry with me? I had nothing to do with Annie’s death.”
“She was your friend, but you never cared what happened to her. The day she asked you for money, you lost interest in her.”
“Everyone wants something from me!” the Princess cried. “Even you are working only for what I might do for you someday.”
Liza stared at her—wondering why she ever thought Princess Victoria was her friend. “Your Highness, rest easy. I’ll never ask you for anything again.”
The Princess noticed Liza’s trunk. “Where are you going?” she asked in a small voice.
“Sir John has sent me packing.”
“He can’t dismiss you!” The Princess’s whisper became a wail. “You work for me.”
“I leave at first light. And if you don’t mind, I still have a lot to do.”
“Liza, I need you.”
“You found a new Annie. You’ll find a new Liza.”
The Princess stomped her foot. “I don’t want a new Liza, I want you. Sir John had no right to fire you. You weren’t foolish enough to let Sir John seduce you.”
“He forced her!” Liza cried.
“How do you know? I saw how she smiled at him. He’s very attractive in his sinister way—my mother thinks so. So do you.”
Liza didn’t deny it. But it didn’t change anything. She placed her few books and journal at the bottom of the trunk.
“Once Annie gave in to him, her days were numbered,” said the Princess. “I couldn’t help her. But I can help you. I told Sir John you were under my protection.”
Liza slowly straightened up and stared at the Princess. “You said that, Princess?”
“I did!” Victoria said drawing herself up to her full height. “When I was sick, you stayed by me and protected me from Sir John. Even today, you only went to see Annie for my sake. We both know what you have risked for me.” She paused, then said, “In private, you may call me Victoria. Friends should not stand on ceremony.”
Liza sank down on her bed, touched. Victoria didn’t have many ways to reward loyalty.
“Thank you, but in the morning I’ll be gone.”
Victoria placed her small hands on the bed, and pushed herself upright—only her lack of inches saved her head from brushing against the sloped ceiling. “I won’t permit it.”
“Victoria,” Liza relished saying the Princess’s name out loud. “You saw what happened this morning: the guards followed his orders, not yours.”
“Leave it to me, Liza.” Victoria held out her arms. After a moment, Liza realized the Princess wanted to embrace her. She stepped forward and Victoria hugged her clumsily.
“Don’t worry.” As the Princess turned to leave, she saw the crumpled riding habit in the corner. “I hope you don’t treat all my old clothes so shabbily.” She walked
out.
Liza shook her head, full of exasperation and affection. Victoria was deluding herself; she was as powerless as Liza. There would be no reprieve. But before she packed her bags, she would show Sir John he couldn’t throw people away like so much rubbish.
Liza pulled out a piece of foolscap paper and dipped her pen in the inkwell. Her father’s watch said it was two o’clock. She had plenty of time to write before getting thrown out of Kensington Palace in the morning.
21
In Which Liza Taunts a Tyrant
“Your breakfast, Miss,” said Nell.
Liza’s body ached from fatigue. She had written a draft of her article while her anger was fresh. Then she had forced herself to finish packing. Only when the trunk was tied with twine had she slept. She sat up and sniffed. “Is that hot chocolate?”
“Yes, Miss.” Nell handed Liza a cup of the coveted beverage. “None of us dare say so, but we all feel so terrible for what happened.” Her face was troubled.
Liza accepted the offering from below stairs and took a sip. “Thank you.”
“Miss, where will you go?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, with more confidence than she felt.
First things, first. Get out of Kensington Palace with my dignity.
“The Princess’s riding dress is in the corner; I don’t know if it can be salvaged,” Liza said.
“I’ll do what I can,” Nell said miserably.
“That’s all we can hope for,” said Liza. “Nell, thank you for everything.”
“Here’s your wages and a character from the Baroness.” Nell handed over an envelope.
Liza tucked it away in her reticule. “It’s more than Annie got.”
Nell wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Take care, Miss.”
Half an hour later, Simon knocked on her door, his wig freshly powdered and his green livery immaculate. “Miss, your hansom cab is waiting.”
Liza pulled her cloak around her shoulders against the chill of the April morning. She followed Simon downstairs as he carried her trunk on his back, awkwardly maneuvering the narrow stairs.
“Where is everyone?” Liza asked, her voice sounding loud in the empty hallway. She couldn’t admit to herself she was looking for Victoria.
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