I could not speak against Luther, even to one I had known as long as Marta. She worked in the palace now, as a kitchen maid, a position I had acquired for her. In the palace there were always listening ears around every corner. The maids heard more than anyone, and what they did not hear the guards did. Some knew how to keep their tongue between their teeth. Others did not. I had yet to discover where Marta stood on gossip.
Instead, we spoke of Marta’s month in the palace and how she was getting along with the other servants. She assured me that she was being well treated and that she was well liked. She had aspirations to rise from the kitchen to become a parlor maid, and perhaps one day a lady’s maid.
“One can become whatever they set their mind to, if they are willing to work and sacrifice for it,” she said. “You taught me that, Willem. Never did I expect that the boy that I worshiped would one day become a knight.” She looked down at our clasped hands and her lovely face reddened. “I should not be speaking so freely with someone so far above my station. Forgive me.” She made to release my hands, but I halted her with a tug on her hand. Placing my thumb beneath her chin, I lifted her face until she was looking into my eyes.
“You will never be beneath my notice, Marta.” Her expression brightened, until I went on. “We are childhood companions, after all.”
Her shoulders dropped a touch, but she recovered quickly, smiling. “That we are.”
We spoke for the next hour about the late king, and what he had been like, for she had never met him. And then we spoke of childhood memories, who she should avoid in the palace, and who she should befriend.
The grief of the people was great, and Marta had seen it all firsthand, for she had been living amongst them when news of the king’s death had spread. Every cottage door was decorated with a black ribbon or cloth. The conversations at the watering holes were all about the late king and his kindness, and how his son would be as the next king.
Marta whispered to me that everyone agreed. They were thankful that Eric was king and not Luther. Luther was not liked amongst the people. He had never done anything to try to get to know them. He had been away from Lutania for years, and, when he did return, he only traveled between the palace and the tavern.
After an hour, we rose. Marta could not be away from her duties any longer without losing her position, even if I did speak for her with the cooks. As we stood, Marta straightened my cravat.
Laughing, she gave my waistcoat a tug, and then stepped back. “We cannot have you looking as if you do not deserve your position, my lord.”
She was straightening my lapels when something beyond my shoulder captured her attention. It was only a fleeting glance before she rose upon the tips of her toes, tugged me down, and planted her lips firmly against mine. Her arms wrapped about my neck as she took a step back. I stumbled with her, planting my hands against the wall and trapping her against me.
It was only when I succeeded in pulling away did I notice the reason for her sudden display of affection.
Following her smiling gaze down the passage, my gaze met one filled with so much wrath that my gut lurched.
Eleanora tugged a smirking Luther away, but not before I saw the hurt that flashed in her eyes.
Turning toward Marta, she was smiling. “That should do it.” With that said, she sauntered off, humming a snatch of song decidedly off key.
Glancing from Marta’s retreating form to where Eleanora had been standing, I did not know what to think. But the truth was as clear as the wrath in Eleanora’s eyes. Marta had kissed me to annoy Eleanora, and annoy her she had. To what extent I was yet to discover.
CHAPTER 9
June 1794
After Eleanora caught me with Marta, she avoided me as best as she could. Every time I made an excuse to go to the queen’s salon, Eleanora was not present. What I did learn was that Eleanora and Luther were not formally betrothed, but they were spending time together. It burned within me to watch them walk amongst the flowers in the garden, or to spend an hour together in the library. They were always chaperoned, but I never let them from my sight when they were on one of their outings. After what happened with Ann, I was not willing to allow such a treacherous thing to be forced upon Eleanora.
Catching Eleanora alone in the library one day, I closed the door, blocking it with my body so that she could not escape me.
“Move,” she commanded.
“After I have my say, my lady.”
She huffed as she turned her back to me. Moving over to one of the many tables in the large library, she picked up a slim volume and began to peruse the pages.
“I want you to keep from Luther. He is not an honest man.” A despicable lout was what I wanted to call him.
Eleanora released a mirthless laugh. “Indeed? How do you know of this?”
“He has been known to act dastardly against the fairer sex when there is no one around to keep them from harm.” That was not too much information given, but enough to warn her that I spoke the truth.
She swirled around to face me, the volume clutched against her chest. “Someone like you?” One thin brow rose as she moved toward me with steps of a calculating creature. “I have seen you watching me … us. Shall I tell you what I see when I look at you?”
“All I require you to tell me is that you will keep away from Luther. Before you are harmed beyond repair.”
She scowled, gripping the edges of that book. “A pompous man of low birth who thinks himself so far above those who deserve his respect. Prince Luther has been nothing but a gentleman, a true man of good breeding.”
I willed her words not to affect me, but they stung all the same.
“Keep away from Luther. I will not warn you again.” Turning, I twisted the knob on the door.
Something hard struck my back and bounced off. Releasing the knob, I turned slowly, looking down at the floor. Her book lay upon the carpet. Glancing up, her fingers were covering her mouth, but I could detect her surprise. It shuttered as her gaze met mine.
“Keep your warnings for those who care what you have to say,” she hissed. “Though I cannot fathom who would heed a word that passes your lips.”
Smirking, I stepped closer to her. To my surprise, she did not retreat. “You cannot? I have been told that my words could soothe even the darkest of temperaments.”
“Someone has been spreading tales. Most probably one of your kitchen doxies.”
The moment the words passed her lips, she gasped. She had not meant to surrender so much knowledge. That she cared who I spoke with gave me renewed hope. I had not yet lost her.
Luther’s untimely entrance to the library cut short what I would have said to her.
When I discovered from Lars, one of the other guards, that my comings and goings were being secretly reported to Eleanora, I decided that I, too, could play her game. It had occurred to me while watching one of their sojourns in the library that Eleanora did not best like Luther. Indeed, she seemed to only tolerate his ridiculous attempts at a flirtation.
At the times when I knew Eleanora to be with the queen and not Luther, I spent time with Marta. The cooks and I had known each other from the time that I first arrived at the palace as a young boy. They did not mind my presence in the kitchens, and often offered me a sweet morsel as I snatched a few minutes with Marta. There had been a moment of guilt at first, but it quickly dissipated when I learned that one of the other guards had caught Marta’s eye. She had come right out and asked me why I was so suddenly visiting her often. After my confession, she laughingly agreed to assist me.
For a month, I juggled my time between my duties for Eric, following Luther and Eleanora, spending a few moments with Marta, and following Luther on the few nights that he left the palace. It was still my conviction that Luther was responsible for my father’s death, but I had no proof.
In the days that had followed the king’s death, we had investigated every shipping vessel, searching for the bandits, but we never found a sign of them. The
conviction that they were none other than Luther’s lackeys was strong within me. Luther could not forever keep his men quiet. Sometime, somewhere, one of them was sure to utter the truth. All that was required of me was to wait for them to stumble.
After a month of courting, Luther was becoming anxious. According to his drunk rumblings in the tavern, he wanted the deed done. He was vexed with constantly having a chaperone. It was when he said that he would have her with or without her consent that I lost all sense or reason. If it had not been for the town drunk stumbling into my path, I would have charged across the taproom and struck Luther.
The following days after that night, I followed Luther constantly, going so far as to neglect all other duties. There were other guards to watch over Eric, and to me nothing mattered but keeping Eleanora safe.
In the middle of June, Luther was granted his wish. Eleanora agreed to accompany him on a picnic by the sea, a good distance from the safety of the palace walls. She was not to go alone, for it was said that Luther had arranged for a group of guards to accompany them, as well as Eleanora’s chaperone. When I had asked amongst the guards who Luther had attending him, none of them had been requested.
On my horse, I followed Luther’s open carriage at a good distance, until it halted beside Sordensen Forest. There was a path that could be taken on foot to reach a secluded area of beach beside the sea. Hiding myself and my horse in a copse of trees, I watched as Luther, his lackeys, Eleanora, and her chaperone descended from the carriage and their horses. Luther and Eleanora, speaking in companionable good nature, went on ahead of the others. Once they disappeared into the forest, Luther’s lackeys halted Eleanora’s chaperone. That was all the motivation that I required to reveal myself. When I reached the lackeys, they were fighting to keep control of the chaperone as she struck against them valiantly. She was screaming curses in Swedish, some of which I had learned, others I had not.
Leaping from my horse, I struck three lackeys, landing against them. One of them broke free from my attack and tried to get to his feet, but I jerked him back down by the tail of his coat. His fist connected with my jaw and my head snapped back, but that only spurred my own fists into flying harder, faster. I broke his nose, knocked one of the others unconscious, and broke the thumb of the third. Climbing to my feet, I turned toward the final two, but my head tilted as surprise filtered through my thoughts.
The chaperone, a woman in her early forties, was striking against the two guards, dancing with the footwork of an expert swordsman. In her hand was a thin, black iron with a black ball on the end. She used the ball to strike against one man’s face when he made to capture her hands. He stumbled back as blood poured from his nose. She turned her weapon upon the second man when he touched her arm. Striking against his temple, and then popping the ball up under his chin, was enough to send him to his knees. With a spin that could be found during a dance in a ballroom, she swung around and struck his head.
When he fell, she turned toward me, huffing a little, but straightening her pale blue dress.
“Magnificent,” I told her, but did not think that she could understand me because I spoke in Danish.
Having been taught Swedish by Eric’s tutor, I spoke to her in Swedish, telling her to remain with the carriage. Pulling out my pistol, I handed it to her. “To protect yourself against this lot.”
She took the pistol without a qualm. Before I could turn toward the forest, she halted me.
“Take this to protect yourself. The devil is in that one.” She held out her black iron, and then motioned toward the forest, meaning Luther was filled with the devil. I believed her.
Thanking her, I turned and ran into the forest. Listening to all around me, it did not take me long to find Eleanora, for she was shouting. Following her voice, my body was tense, my thoughts a riot of shouts, my heart pumping my rage. Eleanora was shouting at Luther to cease whatever he was doing.
Following her voice led me off of the path toward the sea, and deeper into the forest. The echo of her scream surrounded me and I had to halt to try and discover her direction. Cursing myself for the pause, I forced myself to listen for her.
“Keep away from me!” she screamed, and I knew where she was.
Gripping the iron, I ran straight through a wall of hedges, bursting upon a small clearing. Luther twisted his head toward me from where he had Eleanora pinned against a tree.
Eric had once asked me if I ever saw black when I was in one of my dark moods. I had told him that I only ever saw red.
Charging forward, I did not think of what could happen to me if I struck a prince. My only thought was to destroy the animal who dared to harm my lady.
“You!” Luther spat.
Raising the iron, I struck his shoulder, sending him spinning toward me. He howled and clutched his arm, but I did not halt. Nothing could halt me now. Coming in beneath his arm, I threw my fist against his gut, again and again, until he was sputtering and using me to keep himself on his feet. Shoving him away from me, his back hit a tree and he slid down to land on his backside. Stomping forward, I grabbed his hair and pulled his head up. He screamed as my nails dug into his scalp. Raising the iron, I was prepared to break every bone in his face, but the unexpected occurred.
“Willem, please,” Eleanora was saying as she tugged at my raised arm.
Moving my eyes away from Luther, they rested upon Eleanora’s blue gaze. Her black hair was askew, as if Luther had pulled at it, and I lost my momentary connection with her. Turning back to Luther, I gripped the iron tighter, wanting to strike him until he was nothing but a puddle of broken bones and blood. Eleanora pulled my arm and I stumbled back a step. Luther cried out as he was pulled with me, by his hair.
“Willem, I need for you to release Luther and escort me back to the palace.” It was said in a quiet but authoritative tone. As if she was issuing an order. “Please,” she whispered, and I released Luther at once.
Luther scurried away on his hands and knees, cowering behind a tree.
Eleanora placed her hand in mine and pulled me with her away from Luther. Without a glance back to Luther, I walked with Eleanora until we reached the path. At the path, I released her hand and leaned over, resting my hands against my knees and breathing deep.
She had nearly been ravaged. My lady superior. My Eleanora. If I had not been in time, if I had paused longer, Luther could have… My thoughts trailed away at that point for all that I wanted to do was to go back and throw Luther from the cliff overlooking the sea.
A small hand rubbed against my back in a circular motion. “All is well. All is well.”
“Is it?” I asked, not removing my gaze from the ground.
“He did not harm more of me than my hair.”
Inhaling deep, I sent up a prayer of thanks. “I should have torn every hair from his head,” I told her as I rose to my height.
She smiled a little and we continued upon the path. It did not take us long to reach the road and see Eleanora’s chaperone. Some of the men were no longer upon the ground, but two were still unconscious.
“They ran off,” the woman said after she had hugged Eleanora.
“Then they will not protest our use of their carriage. If you will, my ladies.” Holding out my hand, I assisted each of them into the carriage. At the door, I tried to give the chaperone her weapon, but she refused.
“Consider it a gift for your kind rescue of my dear Eleanora.”
After tying my horse to the back of the carriage, I climbed onto the box seat.
When we arrived back at the palace, Eleanora and her companion went in one direction and I went in another, seeking out Eric. I found him in the council chambers.
“Your brother is a cad,” were the first words out of my mouth.
Eric’s gaze rose from the documents before him, and then his brows rose. “What has he done now?”
“He attacked Eleanora in the forest.”
After a silent moment, Eric sighed as he leaned back in his chair, resting
his forehead against his hand. “Was she harmed?”
“Not as much as she could have been. His dastardly actions must be halted. At once!” I had not told Eric about Luther’s attack upon Ann, but Eric knew enough about his brother to know that I could mean any number of occasions. The whole of the palace knew why Luther had come home to Lutania, and it was not to celebrate his brother’s marriage.
“Did you not halt them yourself?” His gaze was piercing, and I nearly squirmed under the heat coming from him.
“I may have struck him a time or two.”
Eric shook his head, appearing beyond annoyed. He was angry. “Does my brother still live?”
“Give me a little merit for common sense, Eric, I beg.” Throwing myself into the chair across the table from Eric, I slung my leg over the arm of the chair.
“Where Luther is concerned, common sense is not one of your strengths.” Eric pushed to his feet. “I shall speak with Lady Eleanora, and if her retelling matches yours I shall deal with Luther accordingly.” He walked toward the door.
I wanted to retort that my word should have been enough for him, but that was not my place. He was my king, and his word was law. Rising, I followed him from the chamber. When we reached the queen’s chambers, he ordered me to stand outside the door.
When he returned, he nodded and motioned for me to walk with him. “I am to understand that this is not the first attack upon a maiden that you have halted. Elisabeth tells me that the Lady Ann was similarly attacked when I was upon my wedding trip.”
“She was.”
Eric said nothing for the length of two corridors. When he did speak, there was a mixture of sadness and resignation in his voice. “I shall summon a few of the council members, and you will have to give your testimony against Luther before them. As will Eleanora.”
Expecting nothing less, I agreed. An hour later, Eleanora, her chaperone, and I had given our testimonies. They had not allowed me to be present when the ladies spoke, but our paths crossed as they were let out of the council chamber. Eleanora tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. After what she had endured, and then having to retell it more than once, I did not fault her for her grimace.
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