The Blood Is the Life

by Sharon K Gilbert

  Beth smiled. “I’ll see what I can do, Mary. Thank you. What time is it?”

  “Already half eight,” Wilsham answered as she helped the duchess to a soft chair, where she might eat the meal. “Did ya hear the finches singin’ this mornin’? I used ta set out seeds for ‘em back at the old house. They’d sing fer hours sometimes.”

  “Is it warmer, then?” Beth asked as Alicia began to lay out the clothing on the bed.

  “It’s cold but sunny,” Wilsham answered. “Here now, Lady Della, let me help you with your hair whilst your cousin eats.”

  Mary Wilsham had never raised a daughter, but always wished for one. She and Adele had grown quite close. “Very well, Aunt Mary,” the girl answered sweetly. “Could you arrange my hair just like Elizabeth’s? And with my little coronet, too, please!”

  Alicia looked up from her work. “I think yours is called a tiara, Lady Della. The Branham coronet is what my lady wears, but yours is ever so pretty.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” the girl said dreamily. “And I may meet my handsome prince today at the wedding, so I must look my very best. Oh, Cousin Beth, I’m so happy!”

  Elizabeth sipped the weak tea, praying the nausea wouldn’t overwhelm her on this day—of all days. “I’m glad, Della, but if I do not dress, then there will be no wedding, and that would break my poor Captain’s heart, would it not?”

  Della grew serious. “Oh, we mustn’t do that. Poor Cousin Charles would be forever sad. You must finish quickly, and I’ll see you downstairs.”

  The child bounced out of the room, and Mary Wilsham shut the door.

  “I’m sure Aggie MacGowan can tend to Lady Della. She’s turned into a real good lady’s maid,” she told Beth. “Is there aught I can fetch for ya?”

  “No, thank you, Mary. If I can keep this down, then I’ll be fine. Thank you for thinking of me. Oh, I do hope I can fit into that gown without a corset! Either Madam du Monde’s measuring tape is faulty, or else my waistline expands almost daily. Is this rate of growth normal?”

  “Some ladies grow quick, others do not,” Wilsham replied as she sat in the other chair. “I hardly showed at all wiv my first boy, bu’ the second pushed me out somethin’ fierce.”

  Hoping to help, Alicia made a suggestion. “We can try the dress without it first, if it makes it more comfortable. I’m not inclined to wear them either, but most gentlemen seem to prefer the way they make me look. Not that I’ve had that any young men court me, of course.”

  “Your day’ll come, Alicia,” Mary said, helping Beth to her feet. “Here now, let’s do the bath, and then consider our options for the dress.”

  Downstairs, Victoria had already breakfasted and dressed for the day. She’d promised to meet her friend Maisie Churchill at the chapel by nine. The morning papers were filled with news about the nuptials, listing all the peers who would be attending, most notably the queen. The service was to begin at ten, and afterward, the duke was hosting a reception for five hundred in the ballroom of his home. Had the wedding been in the warmer months, the celebration would have been outdoors, but colder air and the promise of snow made indoors a requirement.

  “Paul, I shall leave without you, if you do not hurry!” Victoria called as Miles helped her into a coat. “Nephew! Are you coming or not?”

  Aubrey bounded down the steps, still fastening the left cufflink. Even when at home, the earl seldom used a valet, but today he’d employed Baxter’s expert assistance. However, one of the collar buttons had popped off, requiring repair, and then, the right cufflink refused to remain latched. “Sorry, Tory. We ran into a few snags, but I’m all yours.”

  The elder Stuart frowned. “I thought you’d promised to cut your hair.”

  Aubrey laughed, his chestnut locks bouncing. “Beth said she prefers it this length.”

  “Yes, so she’s said many times. I thought she also liked the beard, yet you’ve shaved. Does this mean your Egypt adventure is off?”

  “For the present.”

  “I see,” Tory answered flatly. “Then, you’re still going?”

  “Eventually, I must, but let’s not speak of it today, all right? This is Elizabeth’s day, and I’ll not spoil it. Shall we away to Drummond Chapel?”

  “Yes, I think so. Is Elizabeth on time, do you think? She slept in far too late, in my opinion. She should have risen at six.”

  “She had a difficult night,” the earl said, stifling a yawn. “And when all this is over, I shall spend at least a week sleeping myself. Is it snowing yet?”

  Miles walked the pair to the main doors, where the duke’s carriage awaited to take them to the church. “Not yet, sir, but there are suspicious clouds overhead,” the butler said, handing the earl his top hat. “I’ve taken the liberty of placing a warm blanket and two umbrellas inside the coach, just in case.”

  “Good thinking, Miles,” Aubrey said happily, offering his arm to his aunt. “Lady Victoria?”

  She put her arm through Paul’s, and the two made their way to the black brougham. “Maisie will be cross. Ah well, it cannot be helped.”

  She stepped into the coach with the footman’s assistance, and Paul followed. As they drove the short distance to the duke’s estate, Aubrey gazed out the window.

  “I hope you’re not moping, Nephew,” Victoria said, her eyes sharp. “This was to be your wedding once.”

  Paul sighed, brushing the hair back behind his left ear. “I’ve decided to let it go, Tory. And I’m beginning to succeed, though I’d be lying if I said my heart is fully healed. I doubt that wound will ever mend completely. No man could love her more than Charles does. He deserves her, Tory. He really does.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say it. Now, just what were you doing with that auburn-haired woman last night? Oh, yes, I saw you, my dear. Who is she?”

  “One of Redwing’s softer ranks,” he explained. “Only this one is subtler than most. Dr. MacKey isn’t the first female operative I’ve encountered, nor will she be the last I imagine, but she is persistent,” he said, smiling. “Despite her rushed departure from Drummond castle on a stolen horse, she’s found a way to explain her behaviour to me. Can you believe it? I think she is friend to this Romanian prince, too, for I saw him speaking with her last night in the garden after Uncle James and Charles left with Beth. Alexei is a deceiver, if ever I’ve seen one. It was all I could manage not to throttle the man!”

  Victoria buttoned her gloves. “You know, this battle is about far more than an earthly realm. It is about heavenly rewards, too. Siding with God’s enemy leaves one damned for all eternity. Do you think this woman is worth our prayers?”

  “I’ve already begun petitioning the Lord on her behalf, Tory,” he said, and she could see deep emotion in his face. “It’s why I plan to meet her tonight. If there is any chance at all that she might jump from that hellish ship, then I’d like to help.”

  “Be careful, Paul. A drowning woman might just as easily pull you under with her. Well, I see we’re here. I must find Maisie. Beware of feminine traps. Keep on the whole armour of God at all times.”

  “I do, and I will, Victoria. Now, I’m off to find our groom. I’ll see you inside.”

  Charles Sinclair had been waiting in the chapel’s vestry for half an hour, kept company by Martin Kepelheim. The groom wore a beautifully tailored formal suit, specially made for him by Martin’s loving and talented hands. The trousers were of black-dyed Merino wool that broke at just the right spot upon the gleaming, black leather boots. He wore a white silk shirt and a white, double-breasted waistcoat made of the finest silk, embroidered in gold thread forming the inner circle’s trademark symbol: a P crossed by an S, enclosed within a gold ring.

  “Subtle, but it makes a statement, does it not?” Kepelheim said as Charles noticed the needlework.

  “It’s beautiful, Martin. I don’t think anyone ever explained what our symbol actual
ly represents. I presume the P stands for Plantagenet, but what of the S?”

  Kepelheim laughed. “You are most likely correct as regards the P, although some have joked that the initials actually refer to Paul Stuart, since he’s been our leader in the field for so long. Yes, it goes back to the Plantagenet twins, of course. The two sons of Henry the Fifth and Catherine.”

  “Wait, you just said ‘most likely correct’ about what the P stands for. I cannot let that pass, Martin. If not Plantagenet, then what?”

  “Allow me to defer that conversation until after your wedding, my friend. I stand amongst a minority within the circle who’ve begun to consider another possibility, but it is based on scant—though mounting—evidence, so allow me to pass for now.”

  “Very well, but only if you give me a hint.”

  “No, for if I do, it would be impossible for you to let it drop, Charles. If you will set it aside in your remarkable mind for the present, I shall tell you all I know tonight.”

  “You do realise that I shan’t forget.”

  Kepelheim grinned, deep dimples creasing his fleshy face. “Yes, Superintendent, I’m aware of your dogged nature and that you’ll pursue questions on this topic without mercy, therefore I promise not to leave the city.”

  Both men laughed, and Sinclair looked once more at the exquisite workmanship on both the tie and waistcoat. “And the S?”

  “Well, the S does stand for Stuart, according to current thought, but some—even as lately as a hundred years ago—believed it stood for Sinclair.”

  “Do you refer to the meeting at Rose House? The one I overheard?” Charles asked.

  The tailor nodded, making sure his protégé’s shoulders fit correctly. “Yes, but Stuart and Sinclair may both be correct, for our duchess will soon possess both those names, and you very nearly did. When your grandfather married into the Stuart clan, your great-grandfather—I think he would have been the 9th Lord Aubrey—insisted that as part of the marriage contract, any issue would take the name Stuart-Sinclair, but the Sinclairs refused, hence your unhyphenated surname. So perhaps both theories have merit. Elizabeth embodies both twins, the Branham and Drummond lines, and she is a Stuart. However, she is about to marry the other ‘S’, becoming Elizabeth Stuart Sinclair. Here, let me tie this cravat. The knot is all wrong. You are nothing but thumbs today, my friend.”

  Kepelheim expertly knotted the bespoke tie—gold silk with narrow white and black stripes—and he brushed at the cutaway coat to make sure the groom looked perfect.

  “You are every inch a marquess,” the tailor said proudly. “Our duchess will swoon, when she sees her Captain in his new attire; will she not, Lord Aubrey?”

  Paul had entered the room, dressed in a matching suit, but with a black striped cravat and gold waistcoat. “Martin’s right, Cousin. You look quite handsome. No looking in the mirror now. You’ll have plenty of time to admire yourself later. It’s nearly ten, and I’ve a few things to tell you before the ceremony.”

  “About Lorena?” he asked his cousin.

  “Yes, how did you…oh, your detective skills, I suppose. I managed to corner her for half an hour after you and James left with Beth. As I was leaving, I noticed her talking with the Romanian.”

  “Alexei?”

  “Yes, though it’s hard to tell from a distance. He and Romanov bear a striking resemblance to one another.”

  “What excuse did Lorena give for fleeing the castle?” Sinclair asked.

  Aubrey laughed. “A feeble one. She claimed that she left the castle because she feared the wolf!”

  Charles’s brows rose high. “Oh, really?”

  Paul nodded, smiling. “Yes, I know. She is brazen, is she not? Lorena claimed she’d seen it approach the house whilst she was out walking—though walking at that hour sounds suspicious in itself—and that she panicked and ran to the mews, where the wolf then followed her. She told me that the horses were startled by the animal, so she hastened towards the first horse she found and quickly saddled it—again, so she claims—and that she’d ridden halfway to Glasgow before the wolf left off chase.”

  Charles could hardly believe his ears. “Did she honestly expect you to believe any part of that?”

  “Of course, she did. I smiled and nodded during the entire performance, but all the while, I perceived a kind of sadness in her voice. Charles, I think Lorena regrets leaving us.”

  “You think her a possible traitor to Redwing? If so, Paul, then we must find a way to help. I’d not want any woman to suffer the way Morgan did.”

  “Nor would I, which is why I’m meeting her tonight at ten.”

  “Paul, I wish you wouldn’t. Postpone until I can go with you, will you? Beth is still worried that you’re in danger.”

  “Cousin, I’ve lived most of my life in danger of one kind or another. I’ll be perfectly safe. Your only worry today is making sure you don’t trip on Beth’s skirts, when you walk beside her.”

  Sinclair smiled, placing his hand on the earl’s arm. “You are a truly good man, Paul Stuart. Another man would search for ways to ruin this day for me, but instead you find ways to ease it. Thank you, Cousin. Thank you, but promise to be careful. The thrill of danger can be a harsh and addictive mistress. I say it as someone who’s experienced that lady’s charms. Besides, we need you in our lives. Beth and I.”

  Aubrey’s eyes—so similar to Haimsbury’s—began to tear up as well. “Charles, you’re as dear to me as any brother. I will never allow harm to befall you or your bride.”

  “Well, well,” a strong male voice called from the entrance to the vestry. “Are my nephews going to spend the entire morning talking, or shall we have a wedding?”

  Charles put his arms around his uncle, giving him a great hug. “James, you are making me the happiest man on this earth! I cannot tell you all that’s in my heart; it’s so full. I’m actually overwhelmed with joy!”

  James touched Charles’s face. “I know, son. I do know it, and all I ask is that you make Beth happy and keep her safe. Well, Nephews, shall we drink to this union? I know it’s early, but I’ve had Booth mix champagne into a bit of apple juice, so we can share a private toast.” The sober-eyed butler entered the cramped room, carrying a silver pitcher, from which he poured a sparkling concoction into four crystal flûtes.

  Drummond raised his glass high. “To my remarkable nephews, Charles and Paul. May the love you feel for one another today never falter. May your minds be ever sharp, and may you always look to Christ for His divine guidance.”

  “Amen,” both young men said in response as all four clinked glasses. Charles wiped his eyes and looked up just as Edward MacPherson entered.

  “Champagne so early in the day? Ah, well, it is a special occasion, after all. The archbishop has arrived, so it looks as though we’re ready. Benson’s invariably longwinded, but I’ve asked him to keep it brief. We’ll see how well he complies.”

  “Yes, my uncle told me as much. If it pleases Her Majesty, then I’m happy to oblige,” Sinclair replied with a wide smile.

  “Gentlemen, if I may offer a prayer before we leave?”

  The duke, Sinclair, Stuart, and Kepelheim bowed their heads along with MacPherson, whose soft voice rose up into the vestry’s high ceiling. “Saviour of all who claim your precious blood, you and you alone have created the worlds, both seen and unseen. You raise up and you tear down. Your elevate some to positions of great authority, and others you reduce to the lowest of the low. How you choose to use Charles Sinclair is up to you, but I pray that no matter where you might lead him and his new bride following this service, that you will strengthen them both for the task. Equip them and guide them for each phase of their journey. Whether that journey be filled with joys, triumphs, tears, or sorrow, it all begins today. Thank you, Lord, for the honour you have bestowed upon me to pronounce them as one. Thank you for the lives they will now share with a
ll of us. In your name, we ask it; even the name of Christ Almighty. Amen.”

  “Well, son,” MacPherson said to Charles, “put on your best smile and get ready to greet your bride.”

  Lorena MacKey watched from a position across the street from Drummond chapel. Trent stood beside her, dressed in his finest clothes, tapping a rosewood cane against the palm of his gloved hand. “Do you know what to do?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course. It’s as simple as a maiden’s thoughts,” she said. “And my reward?”

  “You will learn all the wonderful tricks of form and function which you so desire, my dear. So long as you obey only my commands. Remember that traitors meet very dark ends.”

  “Why would I betray you, when you promise such gifts?”

  “That is wise, my dear,” he said, touching her hair. “You’re very pretty, Lorena. ‘twould be a shame to ruin such a face.”

  Fearing that any reply to the threat might reveal her true feelings, MacKey forced a smile. “I’ll leave now to make sure the mirror is ready. Arrive no earlier than nine, for these parties go on far into the evening.”

  “Excellent, my dear,” he answered, still playing with her hair. “Do not fail me. I offer no second chances.”

  Lorena prayed inwardly to God, wondering if he cared—if he even noticed her predicament, for fear raked at her heart with clawed hands. She bowed her head to Trent and forced a smile, and then departed for Queen Anne House.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The chimes of Westminster proclaimed the hour of ten, and the main door to Drummond Chapel opened. Charles waited near the altar with Paul to his left, and he anxiously watched the doorway for the first sign of Adele and Beth. The chapel was packed to overflowing, forcing those who arrived late to remain in their coaches or stand outside in the morning chill, in order to witness this rare, peerage event. News reporters and photographers from all of Europe’s major papers waited near their carriages, though a few lucky ones sat inside the chapel, near the back.