“Well, my dears,” the busybody began, “it seems that this morning, Christopher Wellesley threw himself into the lion’s jaws. Apparently he suffered a crisis of conscience…”
Ella listened in a daze.
“…and he marched right into the audience hall, right in front of the king, and his father, and all the Lords Advisory, and…” the list went on. Ella lost track of the conversation. Max had gone to the king? What did he say? When was this blathering woman going to tell her what he said?
“…I simply cannot credit it! To think that the princess has set out on her own through the mountains with only her horse…” Oh. He’d told about the escape plan. He’d told? That seemed… foolish, to say the least. Max had actually gone and told the king that he’d purposefully defied him and snuck his daughter out of the kingdom? Why? What on earth…
“… the king said he had thought she ran away because of the shame, and then Lord Wellesley spoke about our Ella, claiming she knew nothing, that she’d just been caught up in his plotting with the princess…” Ella went utterly still, and ignored what Mrs. Pritchett was saying. He had told so that everyone would know it wasn’t her fault that Vivienne left. And he had done it in front of the whole court so that word would spread, and the whole kingdom would know. He had told… for her.
“…and then the guards just dragged him off. I heard they’re talking of banishment.”
Ella’s attention snapped back to the conversation. Banishment? The sudden realization of what this could cost Max came crashing over Ella. She sat, mute and numb, until Mrs. Pritchett left to spread the news. Then tears began to slip down her cheeks, slowly at first, and then faster and faster, until she was huddled over in the window seat, sobbing.
Millicent and the girls flew to her side in a flurry of anxiety. All three had been supportive of her when the kingdom turned against her—they staunchly believed her when she said she’d had no idea of who or what he was. She had never been forthcoming with the details, though, and none of them had any idea of her true feelings.
Until she started crying among the tea remnants.
“Eleanor, darling, whatever is the matter?” Millicent fluttered her hands.
“Aren’t you happy, Ella? It sounds like soon everyone will know this wasn’t your fault.” Prudence was down on one knee, patting Ella’s fingers gently.
Beatrice was more direct. “So what, you fancy him, then?”
Ella only answered with a wail. The three women comforted her in a variety of ineffectual ways, until there came, again, a knock at the door. Ella dried her tears and attended to their next guest, Mrs. Geardry, who was determined to tell them the same story, all over again.
So went the afternoon. They had caller after caller, all of whom wanted to bring them the news that Max had spoken out on Ella’s behalf, and been locked away by the king. Ella sat, white-faced with horror, as each successive visitor spoke about his possible fate. Some, telling the story, said he would be banished. Some mentioned flogging. The first time execution was mentioned Ella thought she would be sick. She rushed from the room only to slump on the second flight of stairs, sobbing her heart out. Eventually her tears ran dry and, wiping her face, she walked right down the stairs and out the front door. A carriage was waiting, as she had known it would be, and she climbed in and bid the driver to go.
***
The door opened a crack and a guard spoke to Max.
“Your father is here.”
Max sat up and tried to comb his hair roughly with his fingers. His father hadn’t come to see him yesterday, and Max was starting to worry that he wouldn’t come at all. It was a relief to finally see him, but the look on the Duke’s face wasn’t comforting.
“Hello, Max.” Duke Nathaniel said it heavily, as though even greeting his son was a huge effort.
“Sir.”
“I want you to know, I would have come to visit yesterday, but the king commanded that I organize the search for the princess.”
“You’ll never find her. She’s on the other side of the mountains by now.”
“I know, but the king has commanded I send out searchers, and so I do. Now would be a very bad time for another Wellesley to defy the king.”
Max hung his head. “I’m sorry, father, I can honestly say it never occurred to me that you might be blamed for my actions.”
“I know, boy, I know.” The duke sighed. “You’ve always been one to put a good joke before common sense, any day.”
“Be fair, Father.” Max’s voice held indignation. “I didn’t do it for the joke, I did it for Vivi.”
“Oh, I’m well aware. As is the king. In fact, it’s probably only your loyalty to his daughter that is keeping the king from declaring your acts treasonous.”
Max snorted. “Last time I checked, assisting the princess was considered a duty, not treason.”
“Not if it means defying your king. And then, of course, there’s the fact that you’ve been lying through your teeth for months now. I’m fairly sure the king can have you banished for ‘speaking an untrue word unto your sovereign.’”
“That law is antiquated.”
“But on the books.”
“So what is going to happen to me?”
“If you want to know what the king’s plans are for you, I really don’t know. His courtiers are suggesting all kinds of unpleasant things. Would you care to give me your preferences, in case I have to speak out on your behalf?” The duke’s voice was calm, but Max could tell that anger roiled just beneath the surface.
“What are my options?”
“Well, for instance, would you prefer being flogged, or left in the stocks for three days?”
“Ah…”
“Banished or locked away in a tower?” Duke Nathaniel put some heat into this question.
“I suppose banis—”
“How about your preferred method of execution? If it comes to that, would you prefer to be beheaded, or would you want to fall on your own sword?” Max’s father was clearly angry now, snapping out his words and snarling at Max.
“Perhaps I’ll just let you do it.” Max was getting angry himself.
“Perhaps that would be a pleasure.”
“Why are you so angry?!”
“Because!” The duke exploded. “Because you are my only son and heir, and you have done this ridiculous thing! Because you didn’t think! Because you never think! Did it occur to you that there are hundreds—hundreds—of farmers and shepherds and crofters that all count on you to hold the duchy of Yarrow safe for the next generation? That you have let all of them down? That you have let me down?”
“So, you would have preferred if I refused to help my oldest friend?” Max was getting angry himself, now.
“Yes! I understand why you did it, boy, but you have responsibilities. You can’t just let your own feelings affect the lives of all that are beholden to you. If you cannot take my title who will? Your useless cousin? Alistair couldn’t govern with a whole council of wise men at his back. What will happen to Yarrow?”
“What would happen to the realm if an insipid fop sat on the throne beside Vivienne?”
The duke checked. “Fair enough, Max. But your engagement didn’t have to be a sham. You could have married, for all the reasons you gave the king, and lived as friends and partners all your lives. Then the realm would have been safe, and her highness wouldn’t be lost in the wilds of the mountains!”
“I couldn’t have married Vivi, I don’t love her. Maybe that wouldn’t have mattered before, but now…”
“Now what? Now you’ve met your little dressmaker and the demands of your office don’t matter anymore?”
“Of course they matter! But Ella—”
“Don’t say her name to me. It hasn’t escaped my notice that you and the princess actually managed to pull off your mad scheme, after a fashion. If you hadn’t felt compelled to go and defend that girl to the whole court then she would still be in disgrace, but you would be safe and sound.
And you would still be my heir.”
“How can you even suggest— What do you mean, still your heir?”
The duke’s voice was full of a great sadness. “I mean, my boy, that I have publicly disowned you.”
“What? Why?”
“Because,” Max’s father slumped in on himself, “one of us must look to Yarrow’s future. If you are banished or… or beheaded, the lands that are yours could be seized by the crown and distributed to anyone. This way, if things go ill, our tenants and farmers will remain under Yarrow’s purview.”
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. I have done what my duty and my office demand of me. But Max,” Duke Nathaniel leaned in and clasped his son behind the neck, drawing their foreheads together, “never doubt that I love you, boy. I will do everything I can to keep your head off the chopping block. But I’m very afraid it might not be enough.”
***
The Dame’s carriage drove Ella back to her old neighborhood, and in the lovely rose garden she found her Godmother waiting.
“Godmother…”
“What is it dear?”
“Have you ever discovered, once it was too late to change anything, that you had been a fool?”
“More times that I can count, my darling.”
“I told him I loved him more than my shop or my work, and then I… then I…”
“Then you got angry at him for ruining both. It was a natural response, dear.”
“But I knew he didn’t do it on purpose. And I told him to get out. I told him I never wanted to see him again. I drove him away because I was angry, and now he’s gone and done this… this…”
“He’s gone and told the truth, that’s all.”
“But he could be banished! Or beheaded. And then I truly would never see him again. And for all that I love my work, and I love my shop, I would not have traded Max’s life to keep either.”
“He’s still alive, darling, don’t give him up yet.”
“But the king has him imprisoned! He’s done this for me, and now I can’t help him at all!”
“Why ever not?”
“Oh, do you suggest I just stroll in the palace and demand that the king release Max?”
“Well, I wouldn’t demand anything, dear, the king tends to take it poorly when people order him about. Kings are like that. But you could certainly go plead your case.”
“How? I doubt the guards would even let me in.”
“Nonsense, I’ll get you an audience for tomorrow.”
Ella stared at her Godmother. She certainly seemed serious.
“Will the late morning do well?”
On the other hand, the Dame was known to be a bit batty.
“I’ll take your silence as assent. Tomorrow it is.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ella stared into her mother’s mirror, turning this way and that. She had spent the evening before altering one of her dresses, so that it would be suitable for court. She was nervous, and wanted to look her best. After all, it wouldn’t do to give the impression that Max had thrown away his reputation to save some slovenly little shop girl. On the other hand, she didn’t want to appear seductive in the least. No good would come of reinforcing the opinion that she was some sort of temptress. So she’d replaced all the trimming and sewn a fichu in place on the bodice, and then topped it all with a very demure bonnet. The effect made her look well bred and exceedingly modest. At least, she hoped it did.
“Eleanor!” Millicent bustled into her room. “My goodness, Ella, what are you all spruced up for?”
“Have you forgotten? Dame Merriweather is taking me to… to…” Words failed her. Ella was going to have to get over her nerves before she was actually before the king. It would be hard to plead her case eloquently if she couldn’t even speak.
“Oh, of course! It flew right out of my head for a moment, that’s all. You absolutely must come downstairs this instant, Ella.”
“I had been planning to, Stepmother. The Dame will be here in a moment and I must leave promptly for my audience.”
“Oh no, dear, not for that. You have to come talk to Mr. Snibbs.”
“Who is Mr. Snibbs?”
“Well, dear, you remember a few years ago when I wanted you all to take dancing lessons?”
Ella remembered. It was one of her stepmother’s few whims that she had enjoyed. It had come during a flurry of home improvements, as well, and Ella had been glad to go out and escape the plaster dust for a while.
“Well, we didn’t actually have the ready funds for the lessons, but dancing is so important to a young lady. And we needed to have a few things done around the house, as well…”
Ella wouldn’t have put it quite that way. The plaster frescos hadn’t really been a necessary addition to the dining room. She actually found the cherubs a little grotesque.
“So I took out a little mortgage—”
“What!” Ella focused on what Millicent was saying. “You mean our mortgage, the one you can’t pay, the one that has almost lost us our house, you took it out so we could have fat, naked babies leer at us while we eat?!”
“I think the cherubs are adorable.”
“That is completely not the point!” Ella checked herself. “Never mind. I have to go. What is it you wanted from me?”
“You needn’t be so abrupt, Eleanor.”
“Actually, Stepmother, I am merely trying to be quick. I believe I heard a carriage pull up outside.” Indeed she had, for even as she spoke Beatrice’s voice came floating up the stairs.
“Ella! The Dame is here!”
“Oh no, no, no, dear, you can’t go yet.” Millicent wrung her hands. “You need to come speak to Mr. Snibbs. Mr. Snibbs holds our mortgage, and it’s the remotest possibility that he’s here to collect rather a… a large sum.”
Ella thought quickly. Yes, the next payment was due. “Ask him if we can have one more day.”
“Oh I can’t ask him, Ella! I can never be firm, like you. Really, you must take a moment and speak with him yourself.”
Ella started to give in; what was a moment, really? Then she thought of Max. Locked up somewhere, awaiting who knew what punishment? This was her chance to help him, and she was not going to let her family’s constant neediness get in the way.
“I am sorry, Stepmother, but I cannot.” Ella headed for the stairs and the front door, but Millicent must have heard the regret in her voice, for she followed all the way.
“Really, dear, it would just take a moment.”
“I don’t think the king is in the habit of waiting when he has granted someone an audience.”
“Well, really, he would understand if you would explain it to him.”
“You want me to explain to the king that I was delayed because I had to meet with a back-alley userer?
“You needn’t put it precisely like that, Eleanor, and I’m sure he would understand that your family needed y—”
Ella’s temper snapped. She had made it to the door, but she whirled around and faced her stepmother, and there was anger in her voice when she spoke.
“I have to go now.”
“But Ella, dear—”
“Stepmother, I have one chance to help Max, and I am going to take it, whether we lose this house or not. However, if you will grab hold of your spine, and go tell that man we need another day, I believe you can save the house, while I am off saving Max!”
Ella marched over and climbed into the Dame’s carriage, while behind her Millicent stared wonderingly at her stepdaughter.
***
Ella thought surely she would throw up. Or faint. Or perhaps both, in succession. Her Godmother led the way through the palace with a clear sense of where they were headed, and Ella followed numbly behind. Finally they stepped into a great hall, with massive vaulted ceilings and a lush crimson rug running from the door down the length of the hall. On the imposing stone walls hung banners denoting all the province
s of Albion, and above each was mounted an ornate white and gold rose, wrought from mountain gold and coastal pearls. Ella’s knees went weak as an onslaught of fear hit her. She hadn’t realized the Dame was escorting her to the official throne room.
At the far end of the room, the king sat upon the throne. He was attended by a fussy-looking man in robes, and a handsome older man with noble bearing and a sad face. The Dame identified them as the Chancellor and the Duke of Yarrow. Ella swallowed hard when she realized she’d be addressing not only the king, but also Max’s father.
It didn’t help that all along the walls crowded what seemed like every person in the kingdom who could weasel their way into the throne room. Obviously the court was very interested in what Ella had to say.
Dame Merriweather held her head high, walking a few paces before Ella, until she stood directly below the throne. She gave a graceful curtsy, neither deep nor long, but somehow still full of respect. Ella sank to the floor and stayed there. She didn’t know by what right the Dame made such a brief obeisance, but she knew, whatever it was, it didn’t apply to her.
“Your Majesty, my Goddaughter, Miss Eleanor Emberton.”
“So I see. I hadn’t been aware she was your Goddaughter, Madam.”
“I didn’t see that it was relevant to the situation, your Majesty. Ella has a great deal of value, but I assure you, she has earned it on her own. She does not need her connection to me to be considered worthwhile.” The court was so silent you could hear a pin drop. Ella wasn’t sure, but it sounded to her like her Godmother had just subtly chastised the king. What on earth was going on?
“Very well, then. If you don’t wish me to consider her connection to you, I shall treat her as I would any other grasping jade who came before me.” Ella felt the anger radiating off her Godmother, but the Dame stayed silent. That was fine with her—the king’s words had sparked an answering anger in her that drove out her fear and nerves. “Stand up and speak, then, chit. Tell me why you dare to show your face here after your part in my daughter’s disappearance.”
Ella slowly stood up and raised her head high. She took one deep breath, and then began to speak.
“Your Majesty, I am here today to plead on behalf of Max—Christopher Wellesley.”
Once Upon a Romance 01 - Before the Midnight Bells Page 18
