by Kari Edgren
As we started from the drawing room, Cate placed a hand on Henry’s arm. He stopped and waited, with me at his side.
“Henry,” Cate said, dropping all pretenses of formality between them once the others were gone. “A letter was delivered here shortly before you arrived with Selah. I believe it requires your immediate attention.”
Henry gave her a quizzical look. “No one knew I was coming to your home today. I didn’t know myself until an hour ago. Unless...” he started, but then let his words trail off.
“Unless,” Cate persisted, “someone else learned of Selah’s arrival around the same time you did. Everyone knew she was to be my house guest, certainly any interested person would have guessed to contact you here regarding any urgent matters.” Cate pulled two letters from a pocket inside her gown, both bearing similar wax seals. Handing one to Henry, she tucked the other back into her gown.
Henry glanced at the seal, a dark shadow crossing his face. He broke the wax, and I watched the muscles tense in his jaw as he read the contents. “The princess has asked me to join her for a falconry hunt this afternoon and then to dine with her and her mother this evening.”
“I assumed it would be something of that nature,” Cate said. “She wasted no time in staking her claim. How does the old proverb go? A tame wolf wears a short leash.”
“I am no tame wolf,” Henry said tersely. “And I will not leave Selah. Please summon a servant for parchment and quill so I may send my regrets.”
Cate looked at him for a moment. “Maybe not tame,” she agreed, “but highly unwise if you intend to offend Amelia. Go to Kensington this afternoon, I shall keep Selah occupied.”
Henry put his arm around my waist, apparently unconcerned about showing her ladyship the nature of our relationship. “She just got here, Cate. Don’t ask me to leave her so soon.”
I leaned closer to him, in complete agreement with his decision.
“You are just as familiar as I am with the Hanovers’ monstrous pride,” Cate said. “Make an enemy of Amelia, and Selah will be shunned from every respectable drawing room in London. Is that what you want? To turn her into an outcast among your own people?”
“Amelia and I have been dear friends since childhood. She would never hurt me by disparaging Selah’s name.”
“Henry, do you know the saying, ‘heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned?’”
Henry smiled. “I assure you, Cate, there’s not a man in England who hasn’t committed that saying to memory since Congreve first penned the words.”
“Then I advise you not to let your emotions get in the way of your better judgment. At this point there is no reason to risk an irreparable rift between the Fitzalans and the Hanovers. Go to Amelia if for no other reason than to see how she is adjusting to the news that Selah’s ship has arrived safely. You are a reasonable man, surely you understand that by refusing her request you have nothing to gain and everything to lose.”
While she spoke, I studied her face, particularly her eyes. Though similar to my own in color, they seemed to hold a wisdom I could never dream of possessing so early in life. Maybe this had something to do with her being a widow. Regardless the reason, I decided right then that I liked her, and that Henry and I would do well to trust her judgment.
“Cate’s right,” I said, glancing up at Henry. “You should go see the princess.”
“And leave you so soon?” he asked. “Let me at least send my regrets for hunting. Then I can stay for a few more hours until it is time to dine.”
“You must honor the entire invitation,” I insisted. “At present, I know only three people in London other than Beth and the Goodwins.” And one of them already hates me. “Please go hunting so I can be spared from becoming the town pariah before the day is through.”
“You can always come back once you’ve dined,” Cate said cheerfully.
Exasperated, Henry ran his free hand across his forehead. “Amelia will do nothing of the sort, but I see there is no use trying to change either of your minds.” He guided me through the vestibule to the front door where he folded me in his arms and kissed me. “You had better be awake when I return,” he whispered into my ear.
His breath touched my neck, and I wanted nothing more than to pull him closer. “I promise.”
“Very well then.” He kissed me again on the tip of my nose and left.
With a sigh, I leaned against the closed door, forcing back the urge to cry. Less than thirty minutes together and he was already gone.
A swish of apple silk appeared in the vestibule. “He’ll be back soon,” Cate said.
So far, this day had presented one trial after another. “Do you really think the princess will speak against me?”
“Heavens, no,” Cate said with a small laugh. “Some say she’s a prickly sort, but Amelia is a steadfast friend and would never purposefully harm Henry or anyone he may love.”
I stared at her, confused by her apparent duplicity. “Then why did you send him away?”
She handed me the second letter from her pocket. “Because you have other matters to concern yourself with at present.”
My name was scrawled in big loopy letters across the front. Breaking the seal, I read the few sentences. Then I read them again, more slowly as my stomach began to twist. “The king has summoned me to the palace this evening.” I passed the note to her.
“So I feared,” she said, her face serious. “Be thankful Henry is preoccupied or he would insist on coming along, and this, Selah, is a battle we must fight alone. Go get cleaned up. We’ve a trying evening ahead of us.”
Sophie had returned from situating the Goodwins, and as I followed her upstairs, my stomach twisted further, going from general nervous tension to downright nausea for what lay ahead. I hadn’t planned on facing the king so soon and for the life of me, I couldn’t decide how to interpret his hasty summons. Cate had referred to the meeting as a battle, and having known me for all of ten minutes, she could have left me to face the man alone. But she hadn’t, and for that I felt grateful. She was obviously a devoted friend to Henry to involve herself in our troubles.
At the second floor, Sophie turned down a wide corridor. Six doorways came into view, three on either side of us. An ornate alcove of sorts preceded each door, setting the chambers back several feet from the corridor for additional grandeur and privacy.
The grandeur continued into the chamber where Sophie led me. Rather than plain plaster, wooden panels covered the walls, painted a celadon green, and insets of gilded molding. Damask tapestry formed the canopy over the large bed, and sheltered the two windows facing the street. A fire burned in the stone hearth that stood opposite the bed, with an armchair perfectly situated for both reading and warmth. Sophie continued past the hearth to the far corner, and I nearly cried from joy when we passed into a private bathing room. Fragrant steam rose up from the tub that had been filled in anticipation of my arrival.
I hadn’t soaked in a tub up to my neck since Meredith House in Philadelphia the night before I boarded the Callisto. The sensation was heaven, even with one arm held aloft as I eyed the red welt that had appeared on the tender skin above my glove line. It still stung, though not so badly as when the young wretch first grabbed me. Blurred memories tumbled through my head of a pale dirty face, and the scrabble of small fingers up my arm.
I moved my arm closer and squinted at the mark. It looked like a burn of sorts, as though I had brushed the skin against a hot cauldron in my apothecary back home. Distracted by Henry, I hadn’t noticed a lantern or a coal box in the girl’s hands, or anything else capable of causing the wound. Stranger yet was the bitter cold that had accompanied her touch.
Confusion puckered my brow. “Impossible,” I breathed. Even if she had been carrying a handful of ice, frostbite would never have set in so quickly.
>
The door swung open, and Beth hustled in with a large towel draped over one arm. “Her ladyship asked that ye not dawdle for fear of upsetting the king.”
Nerves jolted me upright. Pushing to my feet, I stepped from the water, leaving all thoughts of the wretch behind.
Dressed in clean shift and stockings, I surveyed the various gowns that Beth had placed around the room at my request. Four were made of good silk and suitable for the occasion, if only they didn’t smell musty from being stored for so long in the bottom of my trunk. Four others were wool, much too informal for meeting the king, but having the distinct advantage of smelling much better.
I crossed the room to my favorite gown, ivory silk with a profusion of painted flowers. I sniffed one of the sleeves before dropping it in disgust. “Hang it all!” I huffed, “I’ve to choose between offending his majesty’s nose or his eyes!”
“This one’s not so bad,” Beth said, lifting a handful of rose silk. “I can sprinkle lavender water all over ye, and the king will think ye smell like a flower.”
I gave her a dark look. “More like a stink weed that has been left in the cellar for too long. Oh, very well, I’ve no other option. Bring it here and we’ll see what can be done.”
Beth was placing the last pins when someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” I called, my voice sounding as dispirited as I felt.
Cate appeared dressed in a coral silk gown, fitted over wide oval hoops. “Are you about ready?”
I nodded sullenly as Beth pushed in another pin. “Just this last bit, milady, and she’ll be done.”
With an appraising look, Cate crossed to where I stood. Mildew and lavender suffused the air around me, and I pretended not to notice when she leaned closer and wrinkled her delicate nose. “Gowns need time to air after being packed away for so long,” she said. “Not to mention a good pressing.”
I glanced down at my rumpled skirts. “Beth is still learning how to iron properly.” For once I thought Nora might have been right about my selection of maids.
“Hmmm.” Cate studied me as though I were part of an exhibit. Then she gave a mischievous smile. “He won’t like it, but I’m afraid desperate measures call for desperate actions. Come with me.” She turned, leaving me to follow in her wake as she marched down the hallway and into another room. Opening the door of an adjoining dressing room, she stepped inside, returning a moment later with her arms overflowing with gowns.
“Choose quickly,” she said, laying them out on the bed. “The king is not a patient man.”
There were five gowns in total, each one nicer than anything I currently—or had ever—owned. My pride bristled and I felt even more wrinkled, smelly, and just plain inadequate. Cate had already taken me into her home, the last thing I wanted was to wear her clothing. “You are very kind to offer one of your own gowns, but I should be able to find something of my own to wear. Maybe one of your maids can help Beth with the ironing.”
Cate laughed. “These are your gowns, Selah, not mine. Henry is sure to be cross with me for spoiling the surprise. He planned to show them to you himself this afternoon before he was called away.”
Dumbfounded, I looked at the pile of silk and brocade. “They can’t be mine,” I stammered. “Henry would know I couldn’t accept them yet.”
“Because such a gift is only appropriate for a wife?”
I nodded. No lady in her right mind would ever accept anything so intimate or expensive as clothing from a gentleman for the message it implied. “It’s not right. People will get the wrong impression.” They’ll think I’ve consented to be his mistress.
She placed a hand on my arm. “Selah, no one knows they are from Henry other than myself. He wrote down your measurements and the types of material to use and had me place the order under your name. He wanted you to be happy in London and not self-conscience while at court. I think he also enjoyed defying the king by doing something only a husband ought to do. It was a small way that he could begin preparing for your life together.”
I stared down at the bed, unsure what to think. Half of me couldn’t wait to try them all. The other half ached with hurt pride and impropriety. I was the sole owner of the largest wheat farm in Pennsylvania. I might not be as wealthy as the Duke of Norland, but certainly I could keep myself in proper clothing.
“Don’t reject his gift, Selah. You’ll break his heart.” She reached down and lifted up a gown of brown silk interwoven with large cream-colored flowers. “This should do for tonight,” she said, holding it up to me. “I was surprised Henry would pick such a dark color for a young lady, but he said it was the color you wore when you two married in the Colonies and that he would see it on you again.”
I whipped my head up, startled that she knew the details of my past with Henry.
“Well,” she said, her eyes sparkling playfully, “married might not be the right word since he was only pretending to be your cousin at the time. I guess fulfilling a mutual bargain is closer to the truth.”
“What else did he tell you?”
“Henry was very frank about your time together, but don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
I stared at her, trying to gauge exactly what she meant by my secret. There were secrets that I preferred to keep quiet due to their embarrassing nature. Then there were secrets that would compromise my life. Certainly, Henry hadn’t told her about Brigid and my power to heal.
Cate placed the gown in my arms, effectively ending any further thoughts on the subject. “Put this on,” she said, “and I’ll call for the carriage.”
The sky glowed a dingy orange when we set off for Kensington Palace. Most of the short journey passed in silence while I fidgeted nervously with my gloves and resisted the urge to tug at my bodice, which had been cut low and tight to meet London fashion. Cate stared out the window at the passing landscape, her face a picture of serenity that contrasted sharply with the nervous anxiety coursing through my body. I envied her detached position. Though she had offered to accompany me, there was no use pretending that she had anything to lose tonight.
The carriage came to a stop and a footman hurried from his rear perch to open the door. Cate went out first, smoothing her skirts as I followed. Glancing around, I realized that we had bypassed the front of the palace, stopping instead outside an arched metal door built into a high brick wall.
“Where are we?” I asked.
She knocked on the door, the force of her gloved hand barely resonating against the thick metal. “A private entrance to the king’s apartments. Every tongue within a mile is sure to be wagging about your arrival and I would prefer to draw as little attention as possible. And judging by the hour, Henry has probably returned from hunting. It would be best for him not to know that we are here.”
The heavy door swung open. A solidly built guard stepped forward, well-armed and glowering. Seeing Cate, his stern face broke into a smile. “Good evening, my lady,” he said with a bow. “His majesty thought you would be accompanying Miss Kilbrid tonight. I am to bring you right up.” The man moved aside, and we stepped through the doorway into a large courtyard where I saw several more guards milling about.
“Good evening, Peter,” Cate said. “How is your little girl? Much improved, I hope.”
“Yes, my lady, thanks to the tonic you brought over. The fever broke soon after you left and the cough is not a bother anymore. My wife says it will be good as gone in a few more days. We’re most thankful for everything you did for us.”
“I’m very glad to hear it,” Cate said, then glanced across the courtyard toward another door. “Did you happen to notice his majesty’s mood tonight? Should I prepare for the lamb or the lion?”
Peter gave me a furtive look. “The lion, I’m afraid, my lady. The king’s temper turned black as coal once word reached the palace of Miss Kilbrid’s safe arrival.”
Cate sighed. “Well, we best get it done with. Would you be so kind to lead the way, Peter?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Inside, the heavy shadows called for a candle, and I was barely able to see the stairs to avoid tripping. We stopped at a large wooden door, flanked on either side by two more guards.
“Miss Kilbrid and Lady Dinley to see his majesty,” Peter said.
One of the guards knocked on the door and disappeared inside.
“Best of luck to you, my lady,” Peter said, bowing again before he slipped back down the hallway toward the stairs.
Cate placed a hand on my arm and leaned close to whisper in my ear. “Do not sit in his presence,” she warned me. “And let him speak first. When it is your turn, keep your tongue well curbed no matter what he may say. Together, we may be able to tame the lion this evening.”
The door opened again, giving me a limited view of what looked like a study. Candles had been lit and their soft, yellow light mixed with the last rays of the setting sun. From what I could see, books lined the expansive walls from floor to ceiling, and those not fitting on the shelves were stacked haphazardly in one corner. Directly across from us, I glimpsed a man sitting behind an expansive desk, scratching a quill across a sheet of parchment.
“His majesty the king will see you now, my lady,” the guard said to Cate while ignoring me altogether.
Cate swept into the room first, her silk gown swaying slightly from the movement. I followed, stopping at her side about ten paces from the desk. We curtseyed together, so deeply my knees nearly brushed the floor before we returned to full height.
The man behind the desk remained silent, content to just stare at me. Bulging blue eyes rivaled the proud nose as the most prominent feature on his face. He wore a gray powdered wig, combed back in the middle, the ponytail secured in a black silk bag at his shoulders. His coat was magenta velvet, which he wore over a brocaded goldenrod waistcoat.
