by M. J. Haag
I recalled the wife who had looked so much like me and nodded in understanding.
“And anger?”
“The lies and games that are a part of my life every day.” The words were laced with the emotion of which he spoke.
I stopped walking and put my hand upon his arm.
“I’m sorry for judging you so harshly. That day in the dungeon…”
“It was an unfortunate way to meet. I had no choice but to question you to the degree that I did. I had to ensure the kingdom’s safety. After all, a pretty face does not mean innocence.”
“No, it does not.” I thought of the women in my home as I agreed with his assessment.
“Will you dine with me tomorrow evening?” he asked suddenly.
“You honor me with the invitation—”
“Speak freely,” he said. “Tell me your true thoughts of dining with me.”
“My stepmother will not permit it without her as a chaperone.”
He smiled.
“That’s to be expected. But what are your thoughts? Do you want to dine with me?”
I smiled, my heart aching.
“I do.”
He exhaled slowly in return and looked at the castle.
“The hour grows late. I should return you to the court before the ball ends.”
“When does it end?”
“At the stroke of midnight. Father insisted, saying that only in silence can he sleep.”
Again I thought of the bird’s twelve taps.
“I cannot return. Is there a side gate by which I can leave?” I asked, looking around.
“I assure you that Kaven will not be angry that you spent time with me. There is no need to run.” His eyes twinkled with amusement.
“I do not seek to avoid Kaven but my family. I begged my stepmother to not force my attendance. She doesn’t know I’m here.”
His grey eyes studied me for a long moment through the mask.
“Do you think she would disapprove of the time you spent with me?”
“No. She would heartily approve, but she would want to know who I danced with before you.”
“Ah. You do not want to admit you danced with Kaven.”
“She’s made her opposition to him clear,” I said.
“I see.” He veered to the left. “There is a gate just here. I will only allow you to slip away if you promise to attend the next ball.”
“I cannot make such a promise. But I swear I will try to attend.”
He smiled, kissed the back of my hand, and nodded to the guard to open the gate for me.
As soon as I was free from the garden, I lifted my skirts and ran. Thankfully, the streets were empty, the majority of Towdown’s populace either abed or at the ball. I had made it a fair distance when the castle’s clock sounded the first strike of the twelfth hour. My dress began to shimmer. I looked down in astonishment at the outline of my legs through the material.
“No,” I groaned, understanding what was happening. The magic was fading.
I ran faster, weaving through streets in my desperation to reach the outskirts of town. I’d barely made it when the final bell rang and the last wisps of magic that made up my dress, shoes, and mask disappeared to leave me in my underclothes.
Whatever magic the tree had used to allow me to escape the estate seemed to hold though because I felt no illness.
Ducking into the woods, I continued on, grateful I hadn’t stripped bare to wear the gown. As I moved, I plucked at my hair, removing the birds’ work.
A warm tingle ran under my skin and faded the moment I crossed over the boundary of the estate’s land, and I knew the spell allowing me to leave had been spent. I thought of the Prince’s invitation and knew the tree’s magic hadn’t been wasted.
The house was quiet with a candle burning in the window near the door. Knowing I didn’t have much time before Maeve returned, I circled the house, retrieved my clothes, then snuck inside.
I’d only just locked myself back in the attic when I heard the carriage roll into the yard. I hurried to wash my muddied feet then sat in the chair by the top of the stairs so I could hear what Cecilia and Porcia had to say as they undressed.
The horses nickered outside, and the carriage moved again. However, the house remained quiet. Without warning, the door to the attic opened. Surprise drove me to my feet and gave Maeve pause.
“You’re awake,” she said. With a lit candle guiding her, she climbed the steps and looked around the open space suspiciously.
“Why are you still awake, Eloise?”
My mind raced, and I almost smiled as I found the perfect reason.
“I went to sleep during the last ball. You woke me and said you expected me awake and waiting after the next one.”
“You remembered when I did not.”
I faked my confusion.
“If you are not here for my attendance, why did you come? Not that I ever mind your attention.”
“It’s no longer important. As long as you’re awake, come downstairs with me.”
I followed her to the sitting room where Cecilia paced and Porcia sat, watching her sister warily.
“We must find out who she is,” Cecilia said as soon as we entered.
“Calm yourself,” Maeve said, blowing out the candle. It wasn’t needed in the sitting room. Not only were the lamps lit, but the glow of the fire was strong enough to see the heavy makeup coating Maeve’s face. She noticed my stare.
“A necessary measure,” she said. “While I wash, Cecilia and Porcia will tell you what happened.”
She left the room as I sat beside Porcia. She studied me closely then looked at Cecilia.
“I’m not sure who she is. But she danced with only two men in the main ballroom. First, some boy with a homespun coat and self-made mask, then with a man as devastatingly handsome as the Prince.”
“Why are you concerned with this girl?” I asked.
“She captured the Prince’s interest so thoroughly that he did not dance with another maiden.” At my lack of reaction, she stomped her foot. “He did not dance with me, Eloise. I stood in that line for hours because he allowed the common trash in an hour before the ball was due to start. Hours wasted. When the King asked to look upon her, I wish she would have removed her mask so we might know her face.”
Cecilia ripped her own mask from her face and crossed the room to throw it in the fire.
“The Prince and the King weren’t the only ones infatuated with her,” Porcia said softly. “Every man there watched her.”
“Perhaps it was the mystery of her identity,” I said.
Cecilia made a derisive sound.
“We were all wearing masks, Eloise. The rest of us didn’t garner the same attention as she did.”
“Describe her to me,” I said. “Was she fair or dark? Did any features that you could see stand out to you?”
“Yes,” she said brightening. “You know the people here.”
“Not well,” I said quickly. “Mother kept us to the estate unless escorted by—”
I couldn’t say the names of those now dead.
“It matters not if you know the girl,” Maeve said as she re-entered the room. “We will find her and remove her. There is time until the next ball. And since Cecilia never danced with the Prince, there’s no need for you to pretend you were there.” She sat beside me with a weary sigh. “It’s a pity we no longer have my mirror. We would already know the face of our adversary.”
“I’m so sorry, Mama,” I said quickly.
She patted my hand.
“I do not hold you to blame.”
Cecilia flinched and averted her gaze.
“We’ve all had a long night. It’s time for us to retire.” She turned to look at me. “Send Heather and Catherine to us. They can assist…with our dresses.”
I stood and nodded, not fooled for a moment as to her true intentions.
Chapter Ten
Dressed for the day, I went to sit at my table but pau
sed at the sight of the open attic door. I listened, but the house was quiet. I cautiously descended, wondering what Maeve’s new game might be. Did she simply expect me to prepare breakfast now that she no longer had servants to do so? Trying not to think of the fate of the maids, I made my way to the kitchen. When I entered the room, I froze in shock at the sight of Catherine and Heather preparing the morning meal.
Staring at the pair, I tried to see if Maeve had done something to them.
“Good morning, miss,” Catherine said in a chipper voice.
“We’ll have your breakfast ready in just a moment,” Heather added. “If you would like to sit in the dining room, I’ll bring your morning tea straight away.”
I turned and left the kitchen without acknowledging them. I met Maeve as she was just entering the dining room.
“Good. I’m glad you’re joining us again,” she said.
“As am I. Why, though?”
“You said boredom and seclusion were robbing you of your social skills. That is not something I can allow. You’re needed.”
Cecilia entered just then.
“Needed for what, Mama?” she asked sharply.
Maeve turned her head slowly, cowing her daughter with a single, cold look.
“Do not mistake your place.”
“I’m sorry, Mama.” Cecilia sat quickly. Though she tried to appear contrite, the flush of anger stealing into her cheeks, along with her tight jaw, contradicted her effort.
Porcia entered the room last while tying off the end of her braid.
“Good morning, Mama,” she said, taking the seat beside Cecilia.
The normalcy of the scene cut me deeply. How dim was the memory of the days when Kellen sat across from me at the table in the kitchen? Of her serious face as I caused some sort of mischief? I hadn’t forgotten her, but neither had I thought of her in far too long.
The dining room door swung open, and Catherine entered with a tea set while Heather followed with a tray laden with bowls. They served us quickly and quietly but with good cheer.
“Thank you,” Maeve said. “I will call if we need anything else.” She waited until they withdrew before addressing us.
“We have one more chance. One more ball in which to impress the Prince. How do you plan to ensure he will choose you as his bride?” She pointedly looked at Cecilia.
“I will not wait for the ball. Each day, from now until the ball, I will invent reasons to go to the estate.”
“That is bold and dangerous,” Maeve said.
“And we are running out of time.”
“The reasons need to be infallible.”
“The patch of briarberries is on his land. I will take a basket today to collect anything that remains. When I’m done, I will go to his kitchen to offer them a portion, which is only right now that they are in residence and the bounty is from his land.”
“Good.” Maeve looked at Porcia next. “How do you plan to ensure he will choose you as his bride?”
Porcia’s eyes widened in surprise, and she looked at Cecilia.
“The time for putting all our dreams on only one of you is past,” Maeve said coldly. “Do not look at Cecilia to prevent our plans from falling to ruin. What do you plan to do to keep that from happening?”
“I will—”
The dining room door opened.
“Excuse me, mistress. A man just delivered this to me while I was outside.”
She handed a letter to Maeve and quickly withdrew.
Maeve broke the King’s seal. As she read the note, a smile spread.
“It would seem fortune agrees with Cecilia’s plan to find reason to visit the Prince in his home. We’ve been invited to dinner again.”
Porcia visibly sagged in relief.
Nerves twisted my stomach as the carriage bumped along the short expanse of road to the Royal Retreat. Surely the Prince would remember that my family knew nothing of my attendance at the ball and would stay silent about the matter. If not, I would have greater concerns than that of Maeve’s desire to use me to lure the Prince if Cecilia failed tonight.
I stared out the window, my thoughts in a tangle along with my nerves. There was no escape for me. If Cecilia did succeed in gaining the Prince’s interest tonight, I would still need to prevent the marriage from happening by forcing his attentions to me. There was a vast difference between throwing myself at the Prince of my own volition or under Maeve’s command, though. Once Maeve committed to using me in full, I felt certain she would cast further spells to control me. My freedoms to thwart her were already far too limited, and I refused to become more of a puppet.
The carriage rolled to a stop, and the door opened. Kaven, backlit and larger than life, waited for us. My heart gave a painful beat at the sight of him.
“Good evening, ladies,” he greeted. “His Majesty is waiting for you.”
As I was the last to enter, he walked beside me. He didn’t speak, but I felt his gaze on me. When I glanced up at him, there was no playful wink. Instead, a look filled with yearning stole my breath.
“I’m delighted you were able to join me tonight,” the Prince said the moment we entered his sitting room. Once again, he struck a practiced pose by the fireplace. Though I liked him a little better after our conversation the night before, he still annoyed me.
We curtsied and waited for his invitation to sit in his presence. As soon as we did, Kaven left to fetch our drinks.
The Prince caught my gaze and grinned slightly. Panic laced its way up my throat, constricting my ability to breathe.
“I must say,” he said, looking at Cecilia then Porcia, “I was very disappointed not to see any of you at last night’s dance.”
“We were there, Your Majesty.” Cecilia graced him with a beatific smile. “I was standing in line to dance with you. Unfortunately, another swept you away for the rest of the evening. I can’t say I recognized her. Who was she?”
“A maiden of mystery, it would seem,” he said. “Hopefully, we can all learn more about her at the next ball.”
“You wish to see her again?” I asked. “Why?”
“She intrigued me.”
“In what way?”
He smiled slightly.
“Her need for mystery.”
I wanted to kick him.
“That’s no basis for true interest, only mild curiosity.”
“Surely you didn’t invite us here to speak of another woman,” Cecilia said.
He turned toward her and gave an acknowledging bow.
“I assuredly did not. While the balls are my father’s idea of a social gathering, I find they leave little room for conversation, which I crave.”
After Kaven returned with our drinks, I sipped mine while listening to Cecilia deftly guide the conversation between her and the Prince. Whenever he politely tried to include Porcia or me, she answered on our behalves with a laugh. I glanced at Maeve, who watched it all with an impassivity I knew belied what she truly felt.
“Dinner awaits your command,” Kaven said when Cecilia paused to breathe.
“Very good. Will you escort Mistress Cartwright while I escort Porcia?”
Kaven gave a bow and went to Maeve to offer his arm. If she didn’t like it, she gave no hint. With a polite smile, she took his arm and let him lead her from the dining room, following Porcia and the Prince. Cecilia looked positively livid as she glared after her sister.
“Why her?” she hissed at me.
“He’s being polite and rotating who he escorts,” I said. “Or perhaps he noted the way you were cutting everyone else out of the conversation.”
She turned her glare on me, and I shrugged.
“If you would rather I tell you idle puffery to the truth, I will gladly do so. You only need to state your preference.”
She took a calming breath, smoothed her skirt, and gestured toward the dining room.
“Come, sister. Let us escort one another.”
As I walked beside her, I noted her tight jaw and flu
shed neck. As with Maeve, I walked a fine line with Cecilia. If Maeve didn’t decide to openly pit us against one another, I hoped that playing Cecilia’s supporter would keep her from targeting me as her competition.
Kaven held out a chair for me beside Maeve’s, and another servant helped Cecilia with hers. She seemed mollified by the seating arrangement which placed her to the Prince’s right and Maeve to the Prince’s left.
“Porcia mentioned there was quite a crush in the main ballroom last night,” Cecilia said as the first course was served. “Barely enough room to move. Isn’t that right, sister?”
Porcia quickly recovered from her surprise.
“That’s right. The number in attendance was astounding. People were making use of your gardens to escape the crowd and provide more room for the dancers.”
“Were you able to find suitable partners among the masked throng?” the Prince asked her, making me bristle.
“Yes, Your Majesty. A mask cannot hide one’s wealth or standing with the Crown.”
His gaze shifted to me, a hint of knowing amusement glinting in the depths of his eyes.
“And what did you think of the ball?” he asked.
My heart gave a violent lurch.
“I did not attend, Your Highness.”
He frowned.
“Did you not receive my invitation specifically requesting your presence?”
“We did, Your Grace,” Maeve said smoothly. “While we regret Eloise’s absence last eve, we hope she will be able to attend the final ball.”
He nodded to Maeve and set his soup aside only half eaten. Kaven quickly removed the dish. I wondered if the Prince’s attitude frustrated Kaven as much as it did me.
“Will there be a theme for the final ball?” Cecilia asked, seizing the lull in conversation.
“I hadn’t yet considered one. Do you have suggestions?”
“Something more intimate would give you an opportunity for conversation such as this,” she said. “Perhaps a ball where attendees must offer a gold coin tribute to the Crown. The coins collected could then be used to improve the lives of those unable to attend.”
I wondered if she could even hear herself. The servants cleared the rest of the first course and prepared for the next as the Prince answered.