“Réveillez-vous.” Nick’s voice surprised me. He enjoyed speaking French when we vacationed but his accent was never this good. He slipped the blanket down to expose my thighs.
I grabbed for it and pulled it back up to my waist, shivering. “Where are we?”
“Stop playing,” he cooed in my ear. I closed my eyes, my mind searching, trying to make sense of his voice and touch.
His voice grew deep and menacing as he stood up.
“Get out of bed, Sapphira! You try my patience.”
I looked up, but I could only make out a dark figure looming over me, pacing back and forth.
“I can’t see. There’s something wrong with my sight.”
When I didn’t respond further, he tweaked my nipple hard.
“Owww!” I howled, opening my eyes in time to watch his blurry shadowed form disappear from the room.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed to chase after him, but nothing seemed familiar or right. This was not our villa. Where was I? How did I get here? I remembered wandering up the hill. Oh my God! He’d proposed!
Wrapping a blanket tight to my chest to ward off the chill, I staggered out of bed and across the room. There were delicate, diamond panes of glass in the windows, floral patterns on the walls and dolls on a shelf. The nausea was overwhelming. I leaned my forehead against the cold marble of an oversized fireplace, trying to dredge up what had happened. We’d been gazing out over the cliff. His dad wanted us to move to Europe. But I’d said no. And he’d lost it!
I gripped the mantle more tightly. What had happened next?
Suddenly, I remembered the magnetic spinning cavern and dizziness overtook me. I opened my eyes to get away from the memory.
Bracing myself, I stared down into the face of an ugly, Marie-Antoinette-looking doll lying in a basket. The eyes bulged.
Had I really fallen?
If so, this was a pretty strange hospital. I ran my hands over my face and head. No cuts, although I did feel bruised, nauseous and dizzy.
As I contemplated that, a series of tiny knocks rapped at the door. I returned to the bedside just as a petite, dark-haired girl poked her head in.
“Oh good, mademoiselle, you’re up.” She signaled behind her, and two women marched in to open the drapes, unfold a food tray and hand me a cup of hot broth.
“She’s awake!” The dark-haired girl’s tiny, French voice cracked with excitement.
Sipping my broth, I moved to the window as they began to make the bed and assemble garments.
“Who are you?”
“Chloe!” she said, looking affronted.
I turned away from her and gazed out the French doors at the expanse of blue water. The villa must be built on a cliff.
“The water… I was drowning. Did I wash up here?” I sputtered, reminding myself of an amnesia patient I’d once seen on Gigi’s silly soap opera.
Chloe paused slightly and gave the other lady a strange look but she nodded her head yes.
How could Nick have dropped me off that cliff? That bastard! He must have dived in and saved me because I was alive, or at least partially alive. I felt like death. I remembered it all so clearly now. I must have washed up on shore somewhere along the French Riviera? Or were there other islands, perhaps a private island? This could be some eccentric millionaire’s mansion, which explained the elaborate bedroom.
“You don’t remember your fall?” Chloe asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“Mind yourself, Chloe,” scolded the tall, thin maid with the pinched face. “Lisabetta, come and look at the nasty bruise on her head.” She motioned rapidly for an older woman to come over.
“It’s nothing,” Lisabetta said. “The doctor has seen her. She’s fine. Thank God for that handsome Graf of Württemberg. Now get her dressed so the house can move on.”
No sooner had Lisabetta given the order than the tall skinny one threw my arms up and yanked the nightie over my head.
“What the hell are you doing?” I said, quickly throwing my hands over my breasts.
“Mademoiselle?” She questioned.
“Give me that!” I screeched, grabbing for the nightgown as she stepped back out of my reach.
“Who are you, and where the hell is Nick?”
I was not a shy person, but I was not used to being stripped by strangers.
She looked panicked, glancing from Lisabetta to me.
“Leave her,” Lisabetta said, calmly.
I wrapped the nightgown around me like a towel and marched over to the door that I’d seen Nick exit through. Where had he gone?
Then it occurred to me to be afraid. What if Nick didn’t jump in after me? What if I washed up somewhere alone?
My hands were cold, but sweaty, as I clutched the knob. For a moment, I forgot the chill running down my spine, and I regarded my hand as though it belonged to someone else. Where was my vibrant yellow nail polish? Had the sea scrubbed it clean? Blue veins were visible through delicate flesh. I noticed Gigi’s ring. The jewels sparkled. My ring and my hands, yet much paler.
“Should I call for the doctor?”
I looked back to see which one had said that, of course it was the tall, thin maid with the pinched face.
“No,” Lisabetta clucked disapprovingly. “He’ll put her down again.”
“Put me down?” What am I a stray animal?
Lisabetta nodded, reaching a hand toward the nightgown I clutched around my body.
“Why are you dressing me?”
“Dinner,” Lisabetta said, motioning to Chloe. “Hand me the corset and bring the gold dress. Don’t forget the brooch this time.”
“That’s what I’m supposed to wear to dinner? Is this some sort of costume party? I really don’t want to take part. Don’t you have a cocktail dress I could wear instead?” I said, eyeing the three-quarter length sleeves and scoop neckline. “Besides, I’m not going to dinner.” My stomach took that inopportune moment to lurch. “And where’s Nick? I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.”
Lisabetta raised her eyebrow. “I would imagine he’s downstairs by now.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so,” I announced, grabbing the clean white dress from her hands. “Why am I putting on another nightgown?”
No one answered but the tall one smiled and held out stockings and garters.
I eyed her suspiciously and then motioned for them to turn around before I moved to put things on. “Fine.”
The ladies moved in once I was covered and began a process of adding layers to me.
First came the torturous corset. One of them instantly went to my back, tugging and squeezing until my chest bulged out the top.
“Ouch! What is that sticking me?”
She continued on, nipping and tucking me in as she yanked the laces tighter. I let out an exasperated moan, and she smiled back at me.
“Euhhhh, have no fear, Mademoiselle. We will get you into it, non?” She was soon squeezing me so tightly I thought I might pass out. Never mind the near drowning; this would be death by corset.
“What is this made of? Steel?”
“Non. I thought you preferred the whale bone.”
I shook my head. Why the hell would I want to wear a whale’s bones? “I’m just saying I don’t think an authentic gown is really necessary. You know they do make knock offs nowadays? Someone should inform your employer.”
She slipped a camisole over my head and finally I stood up straight, surrounded by a sea of bronzed gold.
Both women stood back, surveying their handiwork with satisfaction.
“One last thing,” The tall one said, pushing a powder puff into my face.
“Sei bellissima!” Lisabetta smiled and pinched my cheek.
I huffed. “Can we please go downstairs now? I must see Nick.”
First, we’d get the hell out of this place and then I’d give him a piece of my mind. No man would drop me from a cliff and get away with it.
NINE
T he maid led me th
rough a dozen multi-colored chambers with vaulted ceilings, past numerous tapestries and ornamental pillars, until at last we stood in an enormous grand hall that was breathtaking—full of sparkly chandeliers and elaborate cross ribs that arched high overhead that reminded me of the library’s reading room.
The party was just getting started, mind you it was not just any old party. The guests arriving were dressed like me, wearing costumes befitting a nineteenth-century ball.
I turned to Chloe. “So, how does this type of thing work? Do we watch the actors perform sort of like a dinner theater?”
The maid’s brow furrowed. She was too busy surveying the room to answer me. Now that I looked closely at her, I realized she was a nervous little thing, like a kitten in the hands of a toddler.
“Are you feeling okay, Chloe?”
The girl looked startled by my question but managed a nod.
“Are you looking for Nick? I’d really like to see him. I have a lot of questions.” I glanced about the room. Nick was nowhere in sight but there was a tall, handsome man standing on his own.
He was partially hidden by a massive staircase. He must have felt someone watching him, because he suddenly looked up. Catching my eyes, he smiled before bowing his head.
Ooh-la-la. Fancy.
I glanced at Chloe. “Who is that man by the stairs?”
“You don’t remember him? Graf Conrad Alexander Ferdinand of Württemberg.”
“That’s quite the mouthful,” I joked. “All he needs is some pickled peppers.”
“Why would he need those?” Chloe asked.
I bit my lip. “Never mind.”
Her gaze returned to the room, settling on a couple that had just wandered close to us. A clean-shaven young man with light brown hair and glasses who was speaking with a commanding, older woman in a cherry red gown. The dress was the most elaborate in the room, not counting mine—squared across the bust and trimmed with lace.
Her black hair was parted in the center, pulled back from her face and topped by a crown. Despite being a few inches shorter than the man, it was easy to see this woman had an important role to play.
Chloe seemed to shrink back at their appearance especially as a dowdy, thin-faced woman appeared to join them. A cap covered her dark hair. She was wearing a rose gown that seemed to swallow her whole, but her back was ramrod straight as she glared about the room, disapprovingly, reminding me of a watchdog. I didn’t blame her one bit—she’d probably been forced into this little soiree, as well.
Chloe took one last look and fled back through the crowd from which we’d come.
I glanced at the remainder of the room, curious as to what was so intimidating. The party looked civilized enough. If only I could find Nick, I might be able to relax and enjoy some champagne before getting the hell out. I mean we’d attended Halloween parties before even a ball once, but where were the Jack O’ Lanterns and barrels of apples for bobbing.
I could feel more and more curious glances sliding my way. Forget the booze, I needed to find Nick and escape.
“Princess Maria, I am afraid we must settle the problem of what to do with your daughter,” the man in the glasses said, rather loudly to the woman beside him.
So, the woman in red was playing a Princess; that explained her commanding presence.
Princess Maria glanced up at him with an annoyed look. Her face matching the red of her gown.
“I rather think we’re already working on that, Henry.”
He colored, slightly. “Of course.” He stole a look around the room. “She is just so difficult. Something must be decided.”
The thin faced woman pursed her lips together as she seemed to finally take notice of me. She leaned over toward Princess Maria, and whispered something under her breath. Whatever she said caused the princess to stiffen and turn in my direction.
“There you are!” The princess motioned for me to come forward. When I didn’t move, she approached me. The man followed her, practically shadowing her movements.
“Princess Sapphira,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
I glanced behind. How many Princesses were in this play?
A woman in green flew up to us, interrupting and curtsying.
“Thank you so much for inviting me, your highness,” she chirped.
“Don’t thank me. It was Henri’s suggestion,” Maria replied.
“Ahh, Comte de Chalais,” she said, kissing Henri on both cheeks in an overdramatic fashion.
“And look at this lovely, exotic creature. Is this your daughter?” the woman in green asked, turning in my direction.
I waited for Princess Maria to correct her but, instead, she nodded and put her hand on my shoulder. “Yes, this is our fair Princess.”
I pulled away.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
The Comte de Chalais and Princess Maria exchanged a look and the overly excitable woman in the green dress arched her right brow.
I faked a smile, suddenly ashamed by my own rudeness.
“I’m sorry, but I’d just like to find Nick and be on my way.”
All eyes were on me now.
“Sapphira,” Maria whispered. Her eye twitched at a rapid pace. I had a bad feeling about this woman.
“Why are you saying my name like that? It’s Sophia.”
She gritted her teeth and turned toward the dowdy woman.
“Alastríona, call for the doctor. She’s worsened.”
“No. Please. Just… if you’ll give me the phone… I’ll call my boyfriend and be out of your hair.”
The woman scurried through the crowd, returning with a silver-haired gentleman whom I assumed was the doctor.
“Please forgive her,” Maria said to the room. “We’ve allowed her out of bed too soon.”
No one moved.
I caught my reflection in a gilded, floor-length mirror. It was me and yet it wasn’t. Pale, with rosy red, plump lips… but something else wasn’t right. I marched closer, realizing my hair was the color of toast—a mane full of blonde ringlets pinned to my head. I studied the reflection. Sure, I’d highlighted my hair but this was different. The sun couldn’t have lightened it that much and it didn’t feel like a wig. They dyed my hair and possibly permed it! What the hell was going on here?
“This had better wash out,” I said, turning around and holding up a lock.
“What is she playing at now?” Maria responded, loud enough for me to overhear.
“I’m not sure, Your Highness,” Alastríona said, eyeing me.
I opened my mouth to retort, and then bit the words off sharply. Instead, I turned back to the mirror, my pale creamy complexion mocking me.
Sighing, Maria glanced about the room. “When will Charles be back?”
“We haven’t heard,” Alastríona replied.
“I handed the power over to my son too late, and now his efforts are doomed,” Maria said. This last part was whispered but still I caught it. “I’m feeling melancholy. Where is Nico?”
My ears pricked up.
“He should deal with—” Maria paused, waving her limp wrist at me as if I were a mess to be swept from the floor, “—this.”
“He’s not here. He’s assisting with the rebellion, Your Highness.” Alastríona turned to me. “Allow me to handle your daughter.”
I tilted my head defiantly. “Handle me? Excuse me. I don’t care about your little game—I want to see Nick this minute!”
“Get hold of yourself,” Maria said, disdain pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Or perhaps you require another visit from the doctor.”
“I require nothing from you except Nick.”
“Shall I give her something to sleep?” The silver-haired man rifled through his black bag.
I reached out for the man’s hand. “To hell you can! Get away from me, weirdo.”
He looked to Alastríona and then to Maria. “The Princess sustained quite a bump on the head, perhaps some tea and quiet time.”
Maria
shook her head. “She’s a princess and she can act like it.” She turned and whispered to me in a hushed tone. “I’ll excuse this behavior for now, but one more outburst and you’ll find yourself behind lock and key.”
The thought of obeying this woman assaulted every rebellious bone in my body, but something was seriously off about her and this situation.
I glanced about the room for a sympathetic eye—someone, anyone willing to break character. Nope, nada. I was on my own. Well, I wasn’t going to find Nick or get off looney tune island if they drugged and locked me away. Perhaps playing along was the answer. Gigi did always say that you’d catch more flies with honey than vinegar —although I had the feeling, I was the lowly fly in a room full of spiders.
I nodded politely, and the eyes began to turn away.
When the chatter rose once again, Maria took my arm, and introduced me to several people as if nothing had happened. As the introductions went on, I realized everyone believed I was this other woman, this Princess Maria’s daughter. If this weren’t a play then where was the real Princess Sapphira and why was everyone content to believe I was her? No, this had to be some sort of murder mystery game or costume theatre. They all had titles and spoke so formally, and many seemed to be visiting from other countries. It seemed odd to me that so many would travel for a dinner theatre, but the rich could be eccentric. I just hoped it wasn’t one of those rich games where they hunt people for sport.
After fifteen minutes of fake smiles and boring names I’d forgotten, I was introduced to Graf Conrad Alexander Ferdinand of Württemberg. Pretty sure I was gonna forget mouthful too so instead I dubbed him Vic. He stood about six foot two, with shiny black hair and green eyes that I knew I would never forget. This was the handsome stranger I’d exchanged smiles with earlier.
“Prinzessin, it is an honor to be in your company tonight.” He raised my hand to his lips.
I nodded, the wheels of my brain turning. This man would help me.
As time ticked by as people fluttered about, I went into detective mode and discovered that the Graf who was here for dinner had found me after a tumble down the stairs. No wonder I liked him. The topic of my rescue, much to my dismay, was changed by Alastríona every time I brought it up. She seemed intent on keeping us apart. Total buzzkill, that one. I tried to lose her but her Velcro abilities were better than Betty’s. Still I kept trying. If I could convince him of my identity then I could get the hell out of here. He was my best shot. A visitor to this odd little island, probably only here for that dinner theatre. Just as I was about to ask for his help, Princess Maria appeared and swept him away, depositing the Comte de Chalais in his place. An unsatisfactory trade if you asked me, or any other woman in the room.
Cursed be the Crown (Cruel Fortunes Book 1) Page 5
