by Emma Newman
“Oh, come on.” Cathy wasn’t willing to be fobbed off. “I’m not stupid, Will. Your ancestor—your namesake—had that Tower built for a specific reason. It’s a statement.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Is it really the kind of statement you want to make? ‘The Iris family will crush any resistance just like the good old Normans did’ is a bit…I don’t know…brutal, isn’t it?”
“A strong statement is the best way to begin a new reign.”
“You don’t have to distance yourself from Bartholomew this much, though.” The brief creasing between his eyebrows showed her she’d struck a nerve. “It wasn’t your fault. If you’d known what that bastard Cornelius did, you never would have duelled Bartholomew. You only acted on the information you had at the time. You thought you were doing the right thing.”
“Did I?”
She found it hard to remember the warmth she’d seen in him. When he told her what the Whites had done, he’d shaken with rage, and he hadn’t been anything but tense since then.
“Will,” she said softly, leaning across the gap to take his hands, “why don’t we tell Margritte what happened? She has a right to know and you need to be free of this guilt. His name should be cleared.”
“We’ve been through this,” he said but he didn’t push her away. “If anyone else finds out what happened they could argue I have no right to the throne.”
“But it doesn’t change the fact you won the duel and that’s why you have the throne, not because of what you thought he did.”
“It changes the reason why I challenged him and then I’d be known as the fool who’s easy to trick. And not only me; Lord Iris would be seen as fallible too and that is simply unacceptable. He wants me to rule here and that’s what I must do. He didn’t want me to just take the throne, Cathy, he wants me to keep it.” He squeezed her hands. “Don’t tell anyone. Swear it to me.”
“I just don’t think that—”
“Swear it!”
She saw the fear in his eyes and felt the desperation in his touch. The guilt was chewing him up inside. It wasn’t the time to talk about Bartholomew’s honour. “I won’t tell anyone,” she said, but there was no relief in his eyes. “You can trust me, Will.”
“Can I?”
She knew that feeling. She’d tasted that fear, that need to have someone on her side and how bitter it was to be alone. A thousand times in her childhood she’d looked for someone who’d stop her father’s violence but there was no one willing to help her. Tom was just as frightened of him, and her mother and sister didn’t care. She knew the loneliness of struggling to find a way out, not being able to tell a soul of her plans and the sheer terror of seeing them through. He didn’t want to be Duke, she could see that, no matter how hard he tried to look like he was born into the role. He was only avoiding Lord Iris’ wrath, as they all were. The system held him as tightly as it held her and she didn’t want him to feel that he was just as alone as she had felt.
“Will, I want to tell you something but I don’t want you to freak out or anything until I’ve finished, all right?”
He gave a single nod, still holding her hands as tightly as she held his.
“I was planning to leave you. I was trying to find a way back to Mundanus with enough protections so that Iris couldn’t find me. I managed to hide from Poppy before, for a couple of years before the engagement was announced. That’s why everything was so tense at the first ball in Aquae Sulis; my family only just managed to get me back before you came home. I wanted to do it again. That’s why I was so angry with you for wanting to marry sooner. But I’m not going to try to run away again.”
He felt like he was really there with her for the first time since they left the house, staring deep into her eyes as if searching for something. “Why not?”
“Because I want to change Society rather than run away from it. And I’ve been thinking about being Duchess and it scares the living shit out of me and I’d rather go and live with my parents again than have to be on show in the Court but I’ve started to think this might be a chance to change things.”
“What things?”
“How women are treated, for a start. Look, in Mundanus everything changed in the last hundred years or so because of external factors like the world wars and the industrial revolution and all kinds of other stuff. But in the Nether there aren’t the same pressures. It’s a closed system that endlessly propagates itself, do you see? People aren’t supposed to live for hundreds of years and the way they think isn’t supposed to dominate for as long as it does here. It’s a stagnant pond, so we have to change it from within. We could do that. Together.”
She held her breath as she waited for his response. She hadn’t planned to raise it then even though she’d tried to think of a way to bring up the topic so many times and in so many different ways.
He kissed her gloves, closing his eyes as he did so. “I don’t want you to leave me. I can’t do this by myself and I can’t keep worrying that you’re not on my side.”
“But I am, Will. I can see you’re not like the others. You’ve respected my wishes and not forced yourself on me and I really do appreciate that, I do. I’ve met Iris, I know how scary he is and I know he’s putting you under pressure too.”
He pulled a hand away to curl it behind her neck, pulling her in to kiss her. “I haven’t been a perfect husband. I’ll try harder. And thank you for being honest with me.”
“If we can’t trust each other this is all going to fall apart,” she said. “I’m not sure I even know how to really be with you, but I want to try now. I want to make things different and I need you to be on my side too. Are you?”
This time she was searching his face for something to cling to. He broke eye contact, bringing her hands together in her lap and closing his own over them to hold them tight. “We can’t do anything radical. Not yet, Cathy. We have to establish ourselves, we have to have a child and we have to survive. We can’t do anything outside of what’s expected of us or we’ll draw even more attention and we don’t need that now.”
“But we’ll be the most powerful couple in Londinium—who better to lead by example? Who better to start a dialogue and bring these issues into the public consciousness than us?”
He shook his head. “No. The Patroon wouldn’t support this and neither would the Dame.”
“Fuck them!” Cathy balled her fists beneath his hands as he winced. “They’re part of the system—of course they won’t like it. That’s the point!”
“Cathy, listen to me. We need to secure our position here. We need to make alliances and deal with the mess I made—that Cornelius made. We can’t think about anything else and we can’t make it harder by bringing in another agenda that will alienate the very people we need to bring on side. There’s too much to lose.”
“But that’s exactly why nothing ever changes here—because people are scared. Don’t you see what we could gain by having a Society with women contributing as much as men? We’re wasted on bloody embroidery and taught to worry about what we look like all the sodding time. And it sucks for the men too! You don’t have any real freedom either. It could be so much better.”
“I agree, but we have to protect our own interests. If we try to change things like this without being in a strong position then we’ll destroy ourselves without achieving anything.”
She took a breath to argue back but reconsidered. They were on their way to the first test of his Dukedom, it wasn’t the right time. She’d find a way to bring him round and in the meantime she had the other names in Miss Rainer’s file to track down. There were allies out there, she was certain.
Will was still holding her hands, their foreheads were almost touching. He smelt of vanilla and musk and she wanted to kiss him but she didn’t dare. “I admire your ambition and your passion but you need to redirect it, my love,” he said. “We mustn’t forget that Iris expects a son in the first year of our marriage.”
“Haven�
�t you wondered why?”
“He always wants sons in every generation. Everyone does.”
“But why the rush? We’re going to be together for hundreds of years. It’s not like we’re racing the menopause.”
“I…I don’t know.”
“And why were we paired off in the first place? I mean, it’s madness. If this was just about sealing an alliance between the Papavers and Irises, they’d have married Nathaniel to my sister. They’re perfect for each other. You’re leagues above me. When you were eligible they could have married any daughter they wanted into your line. Someone beautiful, someone hugely wealthy or strategically important but no, they marry you to me. The misfit. The ugliest girl in Aquae Sulis.”
“Cathy—”
“No, it’s true. There has to be a reason and it’s something to do with the child we’d have together, I’d bet money on it. Why else do it?”
He frowned to himself and then shook his head. “I don’t know. But it doesn’t change anything. And surely it wasn’t so bad before?”
She leaned back. “It isn’t that I don’t want you, Will, really.” She tried not to laugh. “That’s not the problem. I just can’t allow myself to get pregnant.”
“Why? Every woman—”
“No,” she cut in. “Don’t you dare say that’s what every woman wants. My father said that on the morning of our wedding and I could’ve punched him. I just don’t see myself as a mother and besides, there’s no way in hell I’d want to bring a child into our Society.”
“Why ever not? Our child would want for nothing.”
“Except the freedom to do whatever they want. Come on, Will, think about it. I’m not going to bring a girl into this world to be sold off as property and I’m not going to raise a son to think that’s all women are good for. It just isn’t right.”
“It doesn’t matter how we might feel about it. Consider the consequences of disobeying Lord Iris.”
“But what are the real consequences of giving him what he wants? For all we know, he may have plans for any son we might have.”
“But he’ll get what he wants, one way or another. There are a hundred different ways he could force this to happen. Let’s not open ourselves to that kind of misery.” He released her hands and cupped her face in his. His kiss was tender and deep. “Let’s make a child the right way, without anything else interfering.”
Cathy cursed the way her body betrayed her, and the fact that he wasn’t listening to her. He didn’t really understand why she didn’t want it to happen. He was just frightened of Iris and, whilst she was too, she was determined to keep her body her own for as long as she could.
The carriage was slowing down. “Oh, shit,” she whispered. “We’re there.”
9
As soon as they entered the room, Will knew he’d made the right decision in moving the Court’s location. The ducal thrones had been reupholstered to the Iris blue and a golden fleur-de-lys was set into the top of the chair backs. The room was smaller than the one at Somerset House but it was still large enough for the assembled and there were many other rooms in the White Tower more suited to dances and dinners. He was even considering moving the family there. The thick stone walls were reassuring and it felt right to be in a place created by the man he’d been named after. It had a different sense of grandeur, one older and with more gravitas than the stuccoed reminders of Empire. These walls had seen over a thousand years of power and it felt right to weave his reign into that ongoing history.
He cast his eye over the room as people relaxed and conversed after the tight formality of the ceremony. All had gone to plan. Tom had hidden his nerves well and actually looked the part. He had the same military posture as his father, even though Tom had never served. As far as Will knew he hadn’t even been on his Grand Tour.
Lucy, his wife, seemed happy and supportive and in fact the only one of their family who seemed utterly delighted with Tom’s change in status. He watched her accompany Tom around the room, moving from introduction to introduction with ease and warmth.
Sir Iris had said his goodbyes after the ceremony was over, leaving Dame Iris to stay for the rest of the evening. Whilst Cathy had barely been able to hide her dismay at the news the Dame would be staying, Will was glad. The Dame would no doubt dissect the evening with Cathy at one of their meetings and help her to read the politics of the room. He was glad his Patroon had elected to make his excuses. It was an awkward situation; Will was the most powerful man in the city and now one of the highest-status Irises in Albion—above even his father—but the Patroon was still the head of the family. It was hard to be deferential to his authority whilst trying to stamp his own on the room and he appreciated the tact demonstrated by leaving him as the only high-ranking male Iris there. The Dame, whilst still someone he would obey without question, didn’t cause the same problems with visible pecking order.
Dame Iris was talking to Georgiana, Freddy Viola’s wife, who was doing her best to extricate herself from the inevitable social disaster he would cause when drunk. Will recalled his appalling behaviour at the dinner party the Tulipas hosted when they first moved to Londinium, and Cathy’s fork-based solution.
He glanced at Cathy and checked that she was managing her nerves. She was gripping the arms of her throne rather tightly but no one else would be able to see that and thankfully her presumably white knuckles were hidden by her gloves. They only had to sit there for a few minutes longer before they could leave the dais and mingle. Not that it would be a consolation to her, but being stuck there with everyone watching was rather odd.
He’d offered the room the opportunity to come and speak with them with any pressing matters that were of importance to the city as a whole before the proceedings became less formal. No one had approached them yet and he hoped no one would. He just wanted this evening to be simple so that Cathy could see that nothing terrifying would happen. Over time she’d get used to it, he was certain. At least she was trying her best; if she hadn’t had the change of heart she’d confessed in the carriage it could be so much worse. He brushed the baby finger of her right hand and she looked at him, alert and ready to be tested. He just smiled and with palpable relief she returned it. If you meant what you said in the carriage, he thought, we could not only survive this, we could thrive.
Then Freddy’s voice cut through the moment. “That’s terrible!” he boomed. He’d been relatively quiet up until that point and in all the places Will expected him to cause trouble he’d been mercifully silent. But now there was a glass of wine in his hand and a familiar red flush across his nose and cheeks.
He was talking to Mr Lutea-Digitalis, the former Marquis. He’d seemed relieved to be released from the post, knowing it would be a difficult position to hold in a hostile Court. Had he planned to cause trouble with Freddy?
Freddy’s younger brother crossed the room swiftly and spoke to his elder. Will noted how different they were and how hard the younger was working to try and contain Freddy’s outburst. He watched the room divide between those who thought it best to ignore Viola’s latest bout of hot air and those who enjoyed good social sport. Georgiana excused herself from Dame Iris and went over as Freddy said, “But this is something you should take to the Duke. This is something that affects all of us!”
When Georgiana tried to speak to him he brushed her off and then told his younger brother to leave it all to him. Freddy planted a hand between Digitalis’ shoulders and propelled him through the parting crowd to the foot of the dais.
“Something you need to hear. Your Grace,” he added a beat later.
Will looked expectantly at Digitalis. “Is there something wrong?”
“My wife and I were robbed yesterday whilst travelling on the Nether road between Somerset House and our residence.”
Now everyone was paying attention. “Were you hurt?” Cathy asked.
“No, your Grace, thankfully,” he replied as his wife joined his side, as crimson as her dress. “When I saw their weap
ons I decided it was best to hand over what they demanded so we would be left with our lives.”
“Our driver was struck,” his wife said. She looked quite distressed at the memory of it. “He has a black eye, poor chap.”
“I’m very sorry to hear of this,” Will said.
“Being sorry doesn’t do any bloody good,” Freddy said.
“It isn’t the Duke’s fault, Freddy,” Digitalis hissed. “Thank you, your Grace.”
“He might not have been the robber but he’s responsible for our safety, isn’t he?” Freddy turned to address the room. “That includes the roads, surely?”
Tom stepped forwards. “Actually, it does not. There are no edicts, documents or records of any previous Dukes adopting responsibility for the roads between Nether properties and the location of the Court.”
“Oh, read them all, have you?” Freddy scoffed.
“Actually I have,” Tom replied, impressively calm. “As Marquis, it’s my role to know such things, as I’m sure Mr Digitalis is aware.”
“Yes, I am very aware of it,” Digitalis spoke with obvious irritation towards Freddy. “Do stop making such a fuss. There have been highwaymen preying upon Londinium for hundreds of years and the Duke has only just taken office. It seems rather unreasonable to expect him to remove a problem the Rosas couldn’t solve in all that time.”
The old faultlines in the Court were being laid bare; the Violas were rich but they weren’t socially successful, thanks to Freddy’s lack of self-control. Will noted the younger brother’s baleful stare at the back of Freddy’s head.
It seemed Freddy hadn’t anticipated the lack of support either. “Well, seeing as everything’s changing, why not make another?” He turned back to look at Will. “Of course the Rosas didn’t solve the problem, they were lazy, corrupt and didn’t give a toss about anyone except themselves. I was pleased to see a new Duke on the throne. Someone I knew could make the kind of changes Londinium has needed for hundreds of years.”
