Masquerade

by Felicity Harper

  Delphi smiled. “Well then - that’s that!” she said, relieved nothing worse had happened.

  “I haven’t finished.”

  “Oh!” Delphi said with a sense of foreboding. Tears were streaming down Astrid’s face faster than the small handkerchief could cope. “Here,” she said quietly, handing Astrid another hanky. “Tell me the rest.”

  “Oh, Delphi! He - he said that, now he had met her, he wants her! And her pert bottom!” she hiccupped through the tears. “I think he’s f-falling in l-love with h-her.”

  Delphi put her arm around her sister’s shoulder and stroked her hair. “Astrid,” she said, “I’m going to tell you this because you’re my sister and I love you.”

  Astrid muttered something against her shoulder that sounded like, ‘Oh no’ but Delphi did not let that deter her. “There are times, like now, when I am astounded you are my older sister and even more astonished that I actually look up to you.”

  Astrid pulled away and glared at her. “How can you be so mean, Delphi?”

  “No, Astrid: how can you be so stupid? Prince Roman isn’t falling in love with the Contessa! He’s falling in love with you - because you are the Contessa!”

  “You’re wrong, Delphi. The Contessa is just an act!”

  “Is she? Then tell me something that you did as the Contessa that you wouldn’t do as you if you were but allowed.”

  Astrid shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose. But that’s not all. Queen Isadora said Roman is very proud and doesn’t like to be made a fool. If he finds out I was the Contessa, he will hate me.”

  “The don’t tell him. Show him you are the Contessa.”

  “How?”

  “Come now, Astrid! I have never known you to be without a scheme!”

  Astrid had a plan.

  For her ride out with Roman, she had dressed in a striking jade riding habit which was even more stunning than the one she had worn to the Hunt. Her grand scheme was to outdo the Contessa in every possible respect and so banish her from Roman’s thoughts forever. To begin with, she planned to show off her skills as a horsewoman.

  Or, at least, that had been the idea - until she saw her mother descend the staircase resplendent in her own dove-grey riding habit.

  “Mother! I hand’t realised you were also going riding!”

  “How many times must I tell you not to bellow at me, Astrid? Wait until I am standing next to you.” The Duchess swept aside the skirts of her dress and allowed her lady’s maid to finish arranging the plume of feathers that decorated her hat. “I suggested to the Duke that it might be a good idea,” she continued, turning away from the maid and holding out her hand for her crop. “I thought it might afford me the opportunity to enquire discreetly about that wretched Contessa.”

  Astrid chewed worriedly at her bottom lip. “I heard that she has gone now - for good.” She plonked her own, unembellished hat atop her head and secured it with a thin strap beneath her chin. “I would appreciate it if you said nothing about her, for fear of embarrassing us all.” This last she added as the only argument that might persuade her mother from interfering.

  “We shall see. Now, do I need to remind you there is to be no wildness: no galloping off; no jumping hedges? This is a sedate family ride, not a chance for you to show off.”

  “Of course it is.”

  “Your tone, Astrid!” The Duchess rebuked her and Astrid rolled her eyes.

  “I had the grey saddled for you.”

  Roman was standing at the mare’s side, ready to help Astrid into the saddle. The imperious presence of the Duchess gave her daughter pause. The thought of her and the mare having to ensure a plodding gait while they both fizzed with the need to gallop seemed most unfair, particularly on the poor horse.

  “Do you not have a more placid horse I might ride?”

  “Why in heaven’s name would you want a placid horse, Astrid?” her father asked. He had either missed the venomous look the Duchess was giving him or was choosing to ignore it.

  “After hearing the Duke’s commendation of your skills, I am keen to witness them for myself.” Roman said, sounding duly impressed.

  “You did?” Astrid asked her father in wonder.

  “You did!” the Duchess exclaimed furiously.

  “Of course I did,” the Duke said gruffly. “You are the finest horsewoman I have seen!”

  “Thank you, Father,” Astrid said, truly touched by the Duke’s praise. She hand’t realised he thought so highly of her riding skills. She crossed the yard to the waiting horse, ignoring the Duchess’ whispered condemnation of her husband. The Prince held out his cupped hands and Astrid placed her foot in and allowed him to boost her into the saddle. The Duke hoisted his wife up onto a patient bay and then the two men mounted up. The four set out, taking the path to the Royal Park where they could enjoy some privacy. Roman led the way, pointing out various landmarks or wildlife they might have missed.

  “Your Highness, I hear you and Astrid will be taking up residence at Hunningdale Lodge after you are wed?” The Prince glanced past the Duchess to Astrid, whose expression clearly indicated that this was the first she had heard of it. Hunningdale Lodge was a large house set in its own grounds but still part of the Royal Estates. Astrid thought it a perfect place to start married life.

  “We will be there only for as long as it takes to decide where will best suit our needs,” Roman told Astrid. She nodded shyly. The Duchess was not so easily satisfied.

  “You do not know where your full time residence will be?”

  “I had thought to summer near the coast. I have an estate there that looks out over the sea. But the decision is not mine alone.”

  The Duchess tittered. “A wife’s duty is to go where she is instructed, your Highness. Astrid understands this.”

  “Mother, please!” Astrid spoke sharply, no longer able to hold her tongue. “This is neither the time nor the place for such discussions.”

  The Duchess raised her eyebrows reprovingly. “I disagree - and I’ll thank you to hold your tongue.” She turned back to the Prince.

  “I, too, have plans that must be made. Astrid will, of course, want her mother nearby while she settles in to Royal life.”

  Astrid gasped, horrified at her mother’s audacity. She looked across to Roman and saw his face was set angrily. “Mother, there will be no need for you to ….”

  “I thank you for your concern, Lady Rothshire,“ Roman cut in indignantly, “but my wife will have plenty of assistance when it comes to settling in. I am sure your presence is needed far more at home with your husband and younger daughter.”

  “Oh no, Delphi .…”

  “This way, my dear.” The Duke leaned over. Ignoring the obvious fury of the Duchess, he took hold of the bay’s bridle and turned the horse’s head. “We have an appointment that must be kept.” He nodded respectfully to Prince Roman. “Enjoy your ride.”

  Once they were out of earshot, Astrid turned to Roman. “I’m so sorry for my Mother’s presumption …” she began but Roman cut her off.

  “If you wish to have your Mother living nearby ….”

  “Good God, no!” Astrid shrieked and then quickly added, “Not that there would be anything too terrible in that of course.”

  “Indeed not. I find the same holds true when being thrown from a horse. It has yet to kill me but I still do my best to avoid it happening again.”

  Astrid burst into gales of laughter. “How wicked!” she spluttered. “I couldn’t have put it better myself!”

  Roman’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Calm yourself, my Lady, or I might run away with the impression you are not as refined as I have been led to believe.” He spoke in his sternest voice but could not quite hide the tell-tale smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  “Oh but I am! The Duchess will have it no other way!”

  “Well, she is not here now so we may throw refinement to the winds,” Roman replied. He gee’d his h
orse, letting it bolt, and Astrid gave a hoot of sheer delight and chased after him.

  Roman turned to look at his betrothed. Their ride had left her hair windswept and loose about her shoulders and her cheeks were red from the exertion but it was her blue eyes, shining with laughter, that held his attention. He smiled to himself.

  “Your look, at this moment, can only be described as smug, your Highness.”

  “Smug? No, Lady Astrid, I was merely reminded of another noblewoman I saw riding the grey not long ago. She, too, handled her horse as if she was born in the saddle.”

  “How interesting.” Astrid broke eye contact and pointed at a bird taking flight. “Is that a kite?”

  “No, a buzzard.” Roman said, never taking his eyes from his betrothed. “You are an unusual woman, Astrid.”

  Astrid turned back to look at him. “How so?”

  “It is a rare woman who does not ask to whom her fiancée has compared her.”

  “Then I own I am an unusual woman, Roman, because I do not care to know her name.”

  Roman gave her a steely look and shook his head. “Very well.” He kneed his horse and galloped back towards the Palace. As they approached the stables, Roman lifted his hand in acknowledgement of a gentleman who was standing there. “My apologies, Astrid, Sir Olivier awaits me. Let Randall take your horse and I shall see you this evening.”

  “Yes, I look forward to it.”

  Apart from his mention of the Contessa, Astrid had enjoyed their ride and hoped the evening would give her a chance to play the flirt with Roman. She still intended him to see she could be every bit as seductive as the Contessa. Smiling as she planned what she would wear for the evening, Astrid handed the grey over to the stable lad and started back towards the Lodge. She was about to turn the corner at the end of the stable block when she heard voices.

  “And you are sure it is her?” Roman was asking.

  “Absolutely. Though she would say only that she was the Contessa and refused to reveal her real name.”

  Before she could stop herself, Astrid gasped aloud. The men paused and Astrid held her breath. A long moment passed and then the men continued their conversation. Trembling with relief, she slowly released her breath.

  “And she agreed to meet me?”

  “Yes, your Highness, at the Pavilion on the stroke of midnight.”

  “Good work, Olivier. Remember: no one must hear of this.”

  Astrid watched the two men leave. Who was this woman pretending to be the Contessa? How dare someone do such a thing!

  Chapter Six

  “All I’m asking is that you come home with me.”

  “So you aren’t expecting me to lie?”

  Astrid chewed on her bottom lip. “Hopefully not - but, if Mother does ask after me, you’ll need to say I’m in bed with a headache.”

  “You know I hate lying, Astrid! And suppose she comes to check on you anyway?”

  Astrid pulled a face at her sister. “Hardly likely, don’t you think?”

  “Are you at least going to tell me what this is all about? It hardly seems fair that I am to going to be complicit in one of your schemes without knowing what it is.”

  “I told you: I just need to take care of something before tomorrow.”

  “Is this something to do with the wedding? Because you are leaving it awfully late if it is!”

  “I know but, this time tomorrow, I am supposed to be married and I cannot blindly go ahead without first reassuring myself that Roman isn’t being unfaithful!”

  Delphi gasped. “You think he is seeing another woman so close to his wedding?”

  Astrid immediately regretted her words. “I’m not sure. Not really: which is why I must sneak away tonight.” Astrid could not tell Delphi about the counterfeit Contessa. Her sister would only give her the ‘I told you so’ speech and Astrid didn’t want to hear it right at this moment.

  “Oh Astrid! I find it hard to believe Prince Roman would behave so abominably!”

  “Really, Delphi? Even though you know he has been seeing a Contessa in the lead-up to our wedding?

  Delphi shook her head in despair of her sister. “My goodness, Astrid, you certainly know how to complicate your life!”

  “After all this time, I can hardly believe the wedding is finally upon us,” Queen Isadora said through happy tears.

  “It seems a shame so few will be able to attend, your Highness. Had it been held in Kendall, the City bells could have rung and everyone would have known the Prince had finally married.”

  “Tradition, Lady Rothshire!” King Maxim boomed. “The Royal Heir has always married here in the family chapel. Fear not though, the bells will still toll and street parties have been laid on all across the city. The day will not go uncelebrated!”

  “Of course not, your Highness,” the Duchess said obsequiously. “It will be a day all will remember.”

  “Ah - and here is the blushing bride!” King Maxim waved Astrid and Delphi over. “You are looking remarkably lovely this evening, Lady Astrid, and you of course, Lady Delphi.”

  “Thank you, your Highness,. Your words are doubly kind as I fear I must look rather washed out with the headache under which I suffer.”

  A headache?” the King bellowed, causing Astrid to be grateful hers was merely fictitious. “Can’t have that now! Not the day before the wedding!”

  “You’re quite right, King Maxim. I think I might be forced to retire early in the hope of it being gone by the morning.”

  “It’s likely just nervous tension, my dear,” the Queen said kindly. “Some warm milk and a quiet room will see you in fine fettle for your big day.”

  “My dear,” the Duchess cried unconvincingly, “should I come with you?”

  Much to her mother’s relief, Astrid shook her head. “Thank you, Mother, but Delphi has offered to come with me so I shall wish you a goodnight.”

  Astrid and Delphi made their leave, passing through the crush of guests and saying their farewells as they left.

  “My Lady Astrid,” Roman said, taking her hand, “you are leaving so soon?”

  “Prince Roman, I thought you weren’t going to make an appearance.” Astrid couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice. The knowledge that he had probably been too busy making plans to meet his floozy to attend his own wedding supper infuriated her.

  “I had some business to attend to but I’m here now.”

  “I’m afraid it’s a little late if your intention was to share the evening with your betrothed. I am leaving.”

  “Surely it is early yet for you to be leaving?”

  “No, not really,” Astrid said carelessly. “I have a headache and need to rest.”

  The Prince gave her an inscrutable look. “Strange. I was just thinking how well you looked. Do you suffer with many headaches that come on so swiftly?”

  Astrid narrowed her eyes angrily. “Yes! Many of them. I find they stop me enjoying all sorts of pleasures!”

  To her immense irritation, Prince Roman, clearly understanding her implied threat, merely burst into laughter.

  “Come Delphi!” Astrid grabbed her startled sister’s hand and stormed away from her betrothed.

  Astrid hid behind the wall of the pavilion and waited. By her estimation, she still had roughly quarter of an hour to midnight. She bent down and peered around the wall.

  “Are you looking for something?”

  Astrid jumped. His voice was very close behind her. She pulled her cap low over her face and turned. “Your Highness! You startled me.”

  “I beg your pardon, Contessa. I had been led to believe you were expecting me.”

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” Astrid floundered. “I was merely concerned we might be seen.” She could hardly tell him she was actually here to spy on him and another Contessa.

  “Oh I doubt that. There aren’t too many reasons someone would wander around here in the dark.”

  “No, of course no
t.” Astrid glanced around.

  “Are you sure you aren’t looking for something - or someone, perhaps?” Roman asked mockingly.

  Astrid glared at him. “Should I be, Roman?” she snapped. “Perhaps it is you who is looking for someone.”

  “Now who might I be looking for, Contessa, when it was you I came here to meet?”

  Astrid cringed. What could she say without making a complete cake of herself or admitting she had taken him for a fool all along? But then she reminded herself it was he who was sneaking around, making secret assignations with another woman the night before their wedding.

  “Yes, about that. I thought I had made it quite clear I did not wish to see you again.”

  “And yet, here you are,” he countered, seemingly enjoying himself. “I admit I was surprised you agreed to meet me again.”

  “Yes, well I - I had no choice.” Where on earth was this wretched other Contessa? As the victim of Roman’s supposed skulduggery, Astrid was keen to get out of there before the entire fiasco blew up in her face. She tried to ignore the little voice in her head. It sounded awfully like Delphi telling her this was actually all her mess.

  “Really? Do tell!” Roman drawled.

  But what could she say? That she had been spying at the stables and learned there wasn’t just one but two fake Contessas? No: better to lay the blame at his door. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, you … you philanderer!” she spluttered.

  “Really, Contessa, I cannot imagine what has upset you now,” Roman laughed. “Just tell me why you agreed to come and meet me.”

  Astrid narrowed eyes he could not see in the dark. “How can you laugh so, you unfeeling brute!” she cried angrily. “I feel sorry for your poor fiancée!”