by Aya Ling
“How come that you told others you were Katriona Bradshaw? I thought we had agreed that you are to pass off as Wellesley’s granddaughter.”
“Oh.” I look down on my hands. “I…er…I was an idiot.” I tell him about my trying to save Princess College by disguising as the princess and signing over the ownership to Elle, and how Bianca and Katriona arrived when I was at Spencer’s Sky-High Realty. Edward’s expression darkens and his grip on my waist grows painfully tight.
“If I were in the palace, promise me you’ll always come to me first. You should know you could ask me for help any time. I want you to need me as much as I need you."
The passion in his voice touches me, straight to the core. “Of course I do.” I look into his eyes, hoping my sincerity will convince him. “What else would I risk my life to come back to Athelia?”
"Good." He cuddles me close. "Your safety is my priority, Kat. Always remember that.”
The clock chimes. I yawn, as drowsiness settles heavily on my mind and body. I rarely had a moment of quality sleep in jail.
“I suppose it’s time you retire to bed,” Edward says, withdrawing his arm. “If you need anything, there’s a bell pull next to your bed. Do not hesitate to rouse me or the servants.” His tone becomes stern. “I might be able to forgive your running off to Spencer’s if you promise to gain all the weight you’ve lost.”
I nod. “I can’t wait until I can return to the palace with you.” Now that Edward has discovered Katriona Bradshaw’s Moryn husband, he should have no problem getting a divorce. Katriona Bradshaw would definitely be loathe to give up the throne, but if people knew she was in fact secretly married before she married Edward…let’s say the tabloids will have a field day. Then, another thought strikes me. “Did you say I could rouse you, not just the servants? Aren’t you returning to the palace?”
He shakes his head. “I’m staying here with you.”
“Are you serious? But your numerous duties…”
“I am not neglecting my duties,” he says calmly. “I told Bertram to bring me the books and documents in my office, and I asked Amelie to pack a supply of clothes for both of us. I am merely switching my workplace to here. If the prime minister, or any officer, wishes to see me, they can visit me downstairs.”
I blink. “Oh Edward, I really appreciate it, I do. But how about your parents? I know your father can’t be pleased that you’re moving out. Everyone will know you’ve left the legitimate princess and set up house with…with a mistress.”
“My reputation can go hang,” he continues in that deadly calm tone. “Do not feel guilty, love. It is my decision—in fact, I regret that I did not move out sooner.” He bends and kisses my forehead. “Until the divorce is finalized, and you and I are re-married, I will not return to the palace without you. My parents may fret, but your safety matters more to me. Besides, I believe that Mother will not object. She knows I haven’t been able to sleep well since Krev took you away.”
Before I melt into a puddle, my heart brimming with affection for him, someone knocks on the door. The brisk sound reminds me of a person I know well. But it can’t be—
“Amelie,” I say.
Edward opens the door. Sure enough, my maid is standing there, a large basket under her arm. Bertram towers behind her, a huge sack slung over his back like he’s a young version of Santa Claus.
Amelie gazes at me—emotion flickers across her face, and for a moment she seems vulnerable, like if I say something to her, she’ll break into tears. But then she smiles, a genuine heartfelt smile that lights up her pretty face.
“Princess Kat,” she says. “I’ve brought a change of clothes for you.” At Edward’s questioning glance, she adds, “I did not have all her clothes altered for the other lady. I kept a supply stashed away, in case Princess Kat was to return. And now she has.”
Edward smiles. “Thank you, Amelie.”
“I can take over caring for the princess now,” Amelie says, looking more like a protective mother hen than my maid. “It’s best you retire to your room, Your Highness. You barely had a rest after you returned.”
“Wait…” I say. “Amelie, are you also staying here?”
She doesn’t blink. “Yes.”
“But the palace…Katriona Bradshaw…”
“I resigned,” Amelie says simply. “Because I cannot simper and follow her every command.”
“But Mabel…how is she?”
Amelie looks guilty at that. “I am sorry that I left her with the other lady, but there are other servants. Mabel will be able to handle Lady Katriona.”
Oh my God. I cannot believe it. In a short time, I have gone from heaven to hell, and then back to heaven. Since Katriona Bradshaw is already married to a Moryn farmer, she’ll have no choice but agree to a divorce. And once Edward is free to remarry…we will achieve that elusive happy ending.
30
Kat
Bright sunlight streams through the window, filling the room with a golden liquid glow. Never before have I so appreciated a window in the room. And the polished floors, solid walls, well-maintained fireplace—all contribute to a warm, dry room that’s heavenly compared to the cell room I’ve spent in the past few days. Objectively speaking it was only a few days, but it seemed like a month. I’ve experienced Einstein’s theory of relativity firsthand.
The guest bedroom in Henry’s house is a bower of luxury, though it’s no comparison to my suite in the palace. It is the first comfortable bedroom I’ve occupied since I came back to Athelia this time, which is why I’ve slept in.
There’s a satin wrap the color of heliotropes draped over a chair. I pull it around my nightgown and pad across the bedroom. While Edward won’t approve of my wandering around the house in the wrap and nightgown, I need Amelie’s help if I am to wear my old clothes she brought from the palace.
Tiptoeing down the stairs, I wonder where Amelie is. The house is so quiet it seems unoccupied. I guess when Edward decided to borrow Henry’s place, he didn’t (or didn’t have time to) bring all the servants back. Knowing Edward, he’s unlikely to want an army of servants around—he’d use as few as we can manage.
A growl from my stomach makes me change my purpose: find the kitchen instead. Having being to Henry’s house quite a few times, especially since I got engaged to Edward, I have a fairly good idea where the kitchen is. I find the dining room first, and from there I call to my memory the direction where servants used to appear from, carrying wine and food, and in little time I approach a large room where pots and pans are hanging on the wall. Despite the gnawing hunger, I pause. Amelie and Bertram are in the kitchen. Alone.
What are they doing? Curious, I press my ear against the wall.
“No, you can’t have the last loaf of bread,” Amelie is saying, her tone exasperated. I bet she has her hands planted on her hips. “Princess Kat isn’t up yet, and she’ll want a nicely grilled ham-and-cheese sandwich when she’s awake. His Highness said she has a weakness for it.”
There’s the dull thunk of a knife landing on the table—maybe Bertram was prepared to saw off a slice of bread, but Amelie told him to stop. “Ah, of course.” He sounds sheepish. “Didn’t think of that—she used to breakfast with His Highness all the time. Hope she got a good rest, after what she’s been through.”
“I hope she’s staying for good.”
Bertram makes a surprised noise in his throat. “But she’s got to! Y’know, His Highness hasn’t been himself since she went away and that other lady took her place. That other lady can’t hold a candle to our Princess Kat. I’d be glad to see her gone, especially after how unkind she was to you.” He seems to gnash his teeth as he speaks. It’s a rare thing to hear Bertram sound so angry; he always is so cheerful. Anyone who doesn’t treat Amelie well is automatically an enemy of Bertram.
“To be fair, the other lady is not a tyrant,” Amelie says. “Princess Kat has spoiled me with her leniency. Most ladies expect complete deference and zero opinion in their servants
.”
“That’s why His Highness is clean gone on her,” Bertram says stoutly. “She ain’t like other ladies.”
Amelie doesn’t reply—I assume she just nods. A twinge of guilt pricks me for spying on them, and I am about to clear my throat, when Bertram coughs and his next sentence makes me shrink back against the wall. “Say, when His Highness gets back from Parliament, would you care for a drive with me in the park? Figure he’d want to be alone with Princess Kat.”
“Don’t you use His Highness as an excuse to neglect your duties.” Amelie’s voice is severe, but I think she isn’t against the idea. If she genuinely didn’t want to go out with Bertram, she would have refused him in an icy tone.
“They’d want us outta the way.”
My stomach chooses to rumble loudly at the moment; I wish it didn’t. I haven’t even heard Amelie give her reply to Bertram.
Amelie is by my side in a flash. “Let’s return to your room and get you dressed.” She puts a hand on the door knob, but not before telling Bertram, “Put the kettle on the stove. Ask Cook to prepare the sandwich and send it up to the princess’s room.”
Amelie ushers me upstairs in haste, and I’m reminded of the day after Edward and I were married for the first time. I had emerged from my room, ran into a male servant, and Amelie had rushed to me and said I should not appear in my nightgown in front of other menfolk.
“Has Edward already gone out?”
Amelie nods, bringing out a lovely cream-colored gown. “He said he must process the divorce papers without delay.”
“Divorce?” It takes me a second before I realize that she is talking about Edward divorcing Katriona. My brain must have gone to mush since I entered prison.
Amelie laces up my back with her usual efficiency. She has chosen a tea gown, which means I don’t have to wear a corset, thankfully. While my corsets are all custom-made and designed with maximum comfort, nothing beats having a padded gown.
“When I helped the other lady dress,” Amelie grabs the brush on the table and starts fluffing my hair, “she never had a kind word for me. She would complain that the dresses were too simple, the hairstyles unflattering, and I should always speak in deference to her wishes.”
Katriona sounds like what Bianca usually behaves. Despite their obvious differences in appearance, they may be more similar in character than one might expect.
“Do you know how long it might take for Edward to divorce her?”
Amelie pauses, brush in hand. “My sister’s divorce took a year.” At my widening eyes, she quickly adds, “But that’s because her husband put up a tenacious resistance. He kept arguing that his acts of violence weren’t done on purpose, he was inebriated, and the child would suffer from the loss of a father. It was also rare for a lower-class woman like Mary to be granted a divorce—those are more likely to happen to upper-class people who had the means to hire attorneys. In Mary’s case, she had the entire family’s support, plus His Highness.”
Heavy footfalls sound on the stairs, followed by a resounding knock on the door.
“Pardon me, Princess Kat,” Bertram says. “But your friends have come and they’re waiting downstairs.”
I fly down the stairs, my spirits rising. Poppy and Elle are seated in the parlor. Their faces light up when I approach.
“Oh Kat!” Poppy says, rushing over and engulfing me in a bear-like hug. “Oh Kat, I am SO glad you’re safe and sound. When Elle said you were locked away in prison without even a trial, I couldn’t believe my ears.” She draws back and regards me with a stern look. “How could you be so careless, disguising yourself as Katriona Bradshaw?” Already, she’s sounding like a mother admonishing a child. Only in this case, I’m not Sébastien or Little Katherine.
“It’s also my fault,” Elle intervenes. “I should never have agreed to this plan. If I didn’t lend Kat a gown of mine, she couldn’t have masqueraded the other lady.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” I blurt. “I was so sure I could do it, I practically forced you to go along with me.”
“But you’re the one who suffered for the consequences.” Elle hugs me, and a tear trickles down her face. “After all you’ve done for me, I put you in jeopardy for the school. Never again, Kat. You’re my dearest friend and I will never let you risk something like this again.”
“Elle, stop it,” I mumble. She looks like she owes me her life. “I’ve told you a thousand times that it was my idea and I wanted to do it. Anyway, I’m out of prison now and in one piece, so there’s no need to berate yourself over it.”
“Now that His Highness is living with her, Kat’s unlikely to risk herself again,” Poppy says, smiling. “He’ll divorce Katriona and Kat will be princess again. Things will be back to normal.”
Elle lets me go, a frown on her pretty face. “Haven’t you read the papers this morning?”
Poppy shakes her head. “The twins kept me until Jonathan returned…” Poppy trails off. “What was in the papers that got you worried?”
“Sit down,” I say, unconsciously reverting to princess mode. I signal to Thomas, who’s hovering in the entryway. “A pot of hot tea, please. And blueberry scones, if there’s any available. Oh, and hot cinnamon buns would be lovely as well.” Poppy’s fond of blueberry scones, while Elle is partial to hot cinnamon buns. She occasionally allowed herself the luxury of a bun when the weather turned cold.
Thomas nods and disappears promptly, as any well-trained butler does. I take an upholstered chair across the sofa where Poppy and Elle sit, and cuddle the fat, squishy cushion on the chair instead of leaning back into it. I kick off my shoes and tuck my feet under my bum. I’m with my friends, not at a state banquet.
Elle’s mouth quirks, though she remains sitting properly, hands folded and her back ramrod straight, like a debutante. But the tiny smile disappears when she begins to speak. “I stopped by Mr. Wellesley’s this morning, and he mentioned the paper had sold out this morning—he couldn’t remember the last time a paper sold this fast. It featured your trial yesterday.”
My insides grow cold at the memory of me standing forlornly in front of the judges, my body stinking and my hair a mess, while Bianca and Katriona looked upon me with the eyes of an executioner. Nevertheless, I try to keep my tone light. “It can’t be too flattering. I was a fright to behold.”
“The story was awful,” Elle says, a miserable look on her face. “The writer called you a power-hungry seductress who bewitched the prince. He said in the history of Athelia, while scores of kings have taken mistresses, none behaved as outrageously as His Highness did. He said everyone was rendered speechless when His Highness carried you out of the courtroom, leaving his lawful wife all alone on her bench.”
“She wasn’t alone,” I mutter. “Bianca was sitting by her side.”
“The point is, the story painted you as a...a home wrecker, but in truth it’s the other way round,” Elle says. “Mr. Wellesley is asking me about it. I’ve explained everything to him, but thousands of readers are going to think badly of you, Kat.”
Somehow, my wedding day comes back to mind. Throngs of people were cheering and waving at me as I rode through the city in the royal carriage with Edward. I imagine those eager, enthusiastic faces turning into ones of hatred and contempt, and I tighten my arms around the cushion, as though it were Edward’s body. I will always be grateful to Edward for saving me at the trial, and I don’t regret moving out with him, but the price we’ve paid is hard to swallow. Even if I don’t care about my reputation, I’d hate it if the people turn against Edward.
“What did His Highness say?” Poppy asks. She reaches out and pats my arm. “Surely he has read the story already, if the paper sold out this morning.”
“I don’t know yet.” I tell them about Edward going to proceed the divorce with Katriona. Both Elle and Poppy look pleased, yet surprised at the same time.
“Lady Katriona is willing to divorce His Highness?” Elle says incredulously.
I promised Edward that
I’d keep Katriona’s Moryn husband a secret, so all I can say is something like, Katriona felt remorse about throwing me into prison and invoking Edward’s wrath.
“I see.” Elle still looks anxious. “But with that horrid story about you being spread far and wide, do you think the court will grant His Highness the divorce?”
“I’ll ask Jonathan,” Poppy says eagerly. “He’ll come up with something to help His Highness argue his case.”
I smile, infected by her optimism. Yet my instincts tell me it won’t be that easy. Everything I’ve tried to achieve in Athelia has always met with obstacles, and I strongly suspect that this will be no exception.
31
Edward
I shut the door of the suite and start down the marble corridor, my step considerably lighter. I cannot wait to reach Henry’s house, to Kat’s side. I had sent in the petition for divorce once I discovered Katriona Bradshaw had a husband in Moryn. Today I have received an acknowledgment of service form and a notice of proceedings form, which I have given to Katriona Bradshaw to fill in. I’m carrying both forms in a large brown paper envelope, and I shall ask George to personally deliver the forms to High Court. Once they approve, I will be granted a decree nisi, and then three months later, I can apply for a decree absolute. That is when I will be a free man.
Three months at the very least, until I can have Kat back as my lawful wife. I pray fervently that no infuriating obstacle shall stand in our way.
Katriona Bradshaw seems subdued when she signed the forms and returned me the copies. There is a slight twinge of remorse in my heart, but it disappears in an instant when I remember that day I saw Kat at the trial. There were occasions I had seen her fragile and vulnerable—especially during the days following up to her second departure from Athelia—but even during that period she could find optimism and comfort me. This time, she was pale, thin and visibly shaken, clinging to me like a broken doll, her usual fiery spirit completely snuffed. Were I not a law-abiding man, I would have attempted to plot the murder of both Bradshaw sisters, for causing such pain and suffering to my Kat.
