They were bringing out dessert and drinks on trays, the first of which having been presented to the king. The unmistakable scent of chocolate made my mouth water and I gasped in astonishment.
“Chocolate?” I asked Tristan, grinning like a fool. “Really?”
“Ye’ve had it before?” he questioned, surprised.
“So many times. It’s one of my favorite treats.” I felt like bouncing in my seat as the waiter laid my own plate in front of me, immediately taking a bite as soon as they’d left. “It’s even better than I remember.”
Tristan chuckled, watching me, and took a bite himself. “Aye, it’s good. One of the better things about coming to Court, actually.”
A flurry of motion at the head of the table drew my attention then, as well as everyone else’s, as the King raised his glass, waiting for silence.
“Welcome,” he said warmly.
A tiny thrill shot through me at the sound of his voice. Being in the presence of someone who had made an important mark on history felt exciting, as nervous as it made me.
“It has come to my attention that some wish to practice dancing tonight, before the ball begins tomorrow. I find your enthusiasm heartening for the festivities.”
Everyone laughed, clapping, and I followed suit, not knowing exactly why we were doing it. On the other side of the room, King Louis smiled, pausing for silence once again.
“Instructors will attend you in the Rocaille Grove, where the ball will begin in all its glory.” He stood then, causing more of a conundrum as everyone moved to stand with him. I expected him to say more, but he simply turned and left, a line of people going with him.
“He won’t be going to lessons?” I asked Tristan as the party moved through the doors into another part of the palace.
“No. King Louis usually follows a very strict schedule. I imagine he has meetings and papers to attend to.”
Conversation resumed once His Majesty had departed, the courtiers and guests sitting back down to finish their meals.
“Lessons in the garden!” Gloria giggled, her face a bright pink and I suddenly wondered if she ever did anything but get excited about things.
Abella nodded politely, her hands folded in her lap, eyes fixed on the mirrors facing us. Looking into them myself, I could see some of the gardens in the dark, lights shining along the pathways. Again, I felt a tingle as I thought of where I was. Whenever I’d imagined running into famous people or places of the past before, I’d worried that I would somehow alter the future. This wasn’t like some science fiction movie, though. Right now, it felt like I could do or say whatever I wanted and it would still be the same. On the other hand, that wasn’t really a risk I was willing to take.
Dinner came to an end shortly after that. It quickly became apparent that a good majority of people in attendance had decided to take the offered dance lessons, making it seem like the ball might actually start tonight anyway. Their excitement was catching, and I soon found myself smiling and chatting with Madame Bevard happily as we made our way out of the palace and into the gardens.
I’d heard of the gardens at Versailles many times, but felt just as blown away as I had when I first saw the palace. Even in the dark, I could tell that the area was massive. Sectioned off into different areas of design, the foliage was in the full bloom of spring, torches lighting the way to the open air ballroom. Under the sounds of talking and laughter, I could hear the rustling of skirts, footsteps, and the air moving gently past us. Statues of some god-like person appeared in a few places, many of which I paused slightly to look at.
“It’s Apollo,” Tristan murmured, his lips brushing my hair just above my ear as he stopped with me.
“To match the Sun King,” I replied, catching on. “How very fitting.”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy to know ye approve.” Chuckling, he turned me to face him and kissed me softly before leading me down the path again. “I’ve missed ye, lass.”
“Me, too. It’s strange. Everything here is so not like it was before.” We were falling back from the group now, slowing our pace so we could talk in peace. It looked like others might have had the same kind of idea, slipping off down other paths. Lovers giggled as they made their escape. Did Tristan and I look like that, I wondered?
“We might not be here much longer,” he stated easily. “Since our meeting at the Temple, the Order has sent out scouts to find Randall. I shared yer concerns about the trip with the Grand Master, aye? He agreed that we should do all we can before taking a step such as that. Going to Arizona will be our last resort.”
“We’ll be leaving as soon as they find him, then?” Resting my head on his shoulder, I took a selfish moment to drink in his presence, his touch warm all around me, his clothes smelling of the chocolate we’d eaten at dinner.
“Not a moment later. I want this taken care of as soon as possible.” We stopped again, looking out over a fountain. Nearby, I could hear some music being played, mixed in with the sounds of the dance lessons.
“What will we do once Randall is . . . taken care of?” I couldn’t bring myself to say “dead.” Somewhere in my mind, I knew that was what Tristan’s end game was for the villain, but it was hard for me to think of him being the one who would carry that action out. I’d seen him kill before, but this felt different. Only one time had I seen him kill out of anger—the captain whom he’d found trying to rape me—and even then, his actions had served a higher purpose. The fight had happened legally, according to pirate laws, and it furthered his position in the Order. But killing Randall? It seemed like pure revenge to me. Tristan had been betrayed; he intended to take care of it in the most final way possible.
“Sam?”
Looking up at him, I realized he had said something to me and I’d missed it. “Sorry,” I replied, blushing. “I was thinking about something. What did you say?”
“I asked if ye thought ye could be happy on land, away from all the excitement of the sea and her ships? I cannot rightly tell if you like where we are now. I’d hoped . . . that is, after Randall is gone . . . I want to settle down and be with my wife. I want to have children to hold on my knee and tell them stories—to have a home that I live in every day and a garden to tend. But, if ye were to want none of that, I would go to the end of the earth with ye. Wherever ye are, that is where I have to be.”
Tears stung my eyes as he shared his feelings with me and I laughed, stopping to throw my arms around him properly. “Of course I can be happy. I’d be happy anywhere as long as we are together. You are my home, remember?”
Clutching me tightly in his embrace, he rested his chin on top of my head, not saying anything. He didn’t have to, though; we didn’t need words to express how we made each other feel all the time. It was enough to just hold one another and be who we were. After a few moments, we broke apart, taking each other’s hands, and continued our slow walk down the path.
“Do ye want to go to the lesson?” he asked, watching as I stifled a yawn. “Or would ye rather go back to our room?”
“I should probably go to the lessons.” Grinning, I thought back to our handfasting and the celebration we’d taken part in afterword. To this day, I still hadn’t experienced anything quite like a pirate party in a whorehouse on Madagascar. There had been lots of dancing—and drinking—and Tristan had pulled me around the room with ease. But, a formal ball was a different occasion. Secretly, I hoped it would be as rowdy and fun as our wedding. If it was, I could relax and forget about how nervous I was to be among royals.
“Ye’re not so bad a dancer as ye think,” he said, the look on his face telling me he was thinking of the same occasion. “I’d say ye’re a right vision, in fact.”
“And I’d say you were blinded by love,” I retorted, laughing all the same.
“Aye,” he agreed, his tone teasing. “I lost my eyes from the moment I first saw ye.”
“So you’ve said.”
“Come back to the room with me,” he stated huskily, his tho
ughts obviously moving on to what had happened after our wedding celebration. “I can lead ye in the dances well enough tomorrow.”
“What if someone else asks me to dance?” I asked innocently, toying with him. “Will they know how to lead me as well?”
“Ye know damn well that no one can lead ye as well as I,” he replied fiercely, joining in on the game with me.
I’d missed him so much. Apparently, judging by his playfulness, he really had missed me, too. We’d never had time that was just for us before. It was always busy, always dangerous. Now that we had time to relax, well . . .
“I’m afraid that I’m not feeling well and have to go back to our room,” I told him evenly. “I’m very sorry.”
“And I’m afraid I’ll have to escort ye back and make sure ye’re not disturbed,” he replied just as seriously, his eyes twinkling.
Turning me around, he set off at a much faster pace than we’d been going, chuckling under his breath.
“You know,” I began, trying to keep up with him without jogging. “They say that Marie Antoinette used to meet her lovers out here for her secret affairs. She’s a future queen of France,” I added as an afterthought, realizing he would have no idea who I was talking about. “These gardens are notorious for things like that.”
Pausing, he looked at me, surprise written in his features. “Ye mean, ye want to do it here?” he asked, looking around. “With all these people?”
“I’m sure we’re not the only ones who snuck off to be together.” Smiling, I nodded for him to keep going. “But you’re right. I would much rather go back to the room than have someone like Madame Bevard come across us.”
Laughing loudly, he began tugging me along with him again. “Ye’d never hear the end of it, lass. Ye’d probably make her whole year.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, I woke up at a decent hour and with Tristan still beside me, his eyes closed in peaceful slumber. The room we’d been given at the palace was elegant, as expected, but larger than I’d thought it would be. This was more like an upgraded suite, with a separate sitting and receiving area, a dining space, and the bedroom all being part of our “small” accommodations, as well as an extra, added on place for Abella to stay. It was all decorated in yellow and purple, the latter of which I’d been told was a color reserved specifically for royalty and was a special treat to see. Fresh flowers sat on almost every surface and a fire burned in the hearths of each room, even though it wasn’t even the slightest bit cold.
Servants wandered in and out after we got up, most of the time almost completely unnoticed. They tended to the warming flames, brought in food, made the beds, got rid of aging plants in favor of new ones, and all other sorts of chores. As I’d expected, being waited on made me even more uncomfortable, but there was nothing to be done about it here. The best I could do was make sure I didn’t mess anything up that they would have to take care of.
“What do you have planned for the day?” Abella asked as she tightened the back of the jacket I wore with today’s gown. “Or are we staying inside until the ball starts?”
“I thought we might do some exploring,” I told her, smiling into the mirror across from the foot of my bed. “There’s a lot here that I would like to see. Do you know when mass is?”
Surprised, she paused in her workings to stare at me with wide eyes. “You want to go to church?”
“Father Torres told me that the chapel here was beautiful.” Laughing, I watched as she recovered herself and went back to the lacings. “I thought I would go see it, so I can tell him about it the next time I visit him.”
“That would be very nice.” She sounded like she would have believed I worshiped Satan before I ever said I wanted to go to church. “Do you mind my asking how you and the Father met? You seemed very close when he brought us together.”
“He helped me out of a . . . sticky situation, before I was married to Tristan.” He actually helped me get onto a ship disguised as a man and told a crew of pirates that I had my tongue cut out by aborigines and couldn’t talk, but that was beside the point.
“He is a kind man.” Her voice was soft and contemplative, and I suddenly wondered what it was she was thinking about. The air of sadness was a feeling that I suddenly didn’t want to have anything to do with right now.
“What do you want to do today?” I asked, moving away to inspect my reflection after she was finished. I was in pink, with white lace accents. The sleeves gathered at my elbow, the frilly cuffs spilling down to my wrists in elegant loops. A low neckline accented my breasts as always, and the skirt made my hips look at least twenty times larger than they actually were. I liked this dress quite a bit, though, and smiled at my image. I didn’t often feel pretty, instead thinking that I looked like a cream puff, but today felt different. I’d curled my hair—an exercise in patience without electricity to heat up the rod evenly—and pinned it up as I’d seen many women do last night, deciding against powdering it. It seemed I was a little tanner, possibly from my time in the sun on the way here, and I didn’t want to cover it up with the latest fashion.
“You are positively glowing,” Abella said from behind me, having been inspecting her work as well. “There won’t be a person in Court who won’t think so.”
Smiling, I opened my mouth to respond and then blanched, my face obviously going white in the glass in front of me.
“What is it?” Abella asked in alarm, grabbing my arm as if I were falling over.
“What is today?” I inquired weakly, feeling like my head was spinning.
She told me, still holding onto my arm tightly. “Should I call for Monsieur O’Rourke?”
“No!” I’d kind of snapped at her, catching her by surprise, and she let go, stepping away. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, giving her a small smile. “You didn’t do anything. Could I have a moment alone? Maybe go see if breakfast is ready?”
She nodded, obvious distress on her face, and left, no doubt to get Tristan from the other room anyway.
Catching a glimpse of her simple blue dress passing through the doorway, I sighed as the latch closed instantly behind her.
Forcing myself into some type of calm, I slowly counted the days back, feeling an uneasiness growing in the pit of my stomach.
Except, if I was counting and remembering right, that wasn’t the only thing growing in my abdomen.
Slowly, all of my episodes of suddenly feeling sick or faint were making sense. I’d been more tired than usual the past couple days, but pushed through it because we had so much to do. Even today, as Abella had been tightening my corset, I’d felt like my breasts were extra tender, but attributed it to Tristan being somewhat rough with them the night before.
Fearfully, I placed my hands over my stomach. My period was more than a week late and I’d never even noticed. With all that had been going on, I’d focused on just trying to get used to my new routine.
Maybe I was off because of all the changes? That happened, right? Things could change in your life and it could mess with your cycle.
But it hadn’t. Ever since I’d first started menstruating, I’d always started on the same day every month, almost down to the hour even. Why would it change now, after over ten years of regularity?
Tears gathering in my eyes, I blinked hard, not knowing what to do. There was no test for pregnancy in this time other than to wait and see if I ever started bleeding. It would be at least another week or two before I would feel confident enough that there was a baby. How far would that make me then? Seven or eight weeks along? Did I see a midwife regularly, or was I on my own until delivery?
“No,” I whispered, closing my eyes as a tear rolled down my face. Fisting my hands over my stomach, I tried to keep from shaking. I couldn’t be pregnant now, not when Tristan needed me to go with him and find Randall. This wasn’t part of the plan! We were waiting until the danger had passed, till we could settle down somewhere and stay forever. I’d taken the herbs I’d been given every day, witho
ut fail.
Yet, there was still obviously something going on, and my intuition told me what I desperately wanted to not be true.
Tristan and I were going to be parents much sooner than we wanted.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to open my eyes and stare at my reflection again. “There is no way to know, yet,” I said firmly, my face somewhat fierce. “No way. You will keep it together. It could be a false alarm. No one needs to know anything.”
After another minute, I felt I’d calmed down enough and reached up, wiping the tear from my cheek.
“Samantha?”
Abella’s voice was small and barely discernable, but I turned anyway, motioning her in. Her expression was guarded and made me feel even guiltier for snapping at her.
“I’m sorry,” I replied evenly, smiling. “I hadn’t realized the date and it caught me by surprise. Today is the anniversary of my father’s death. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”
Visibly relaxing, she seemed to accept my excuse without question. “I am so sorry. How did he die?”
“In a work accident.” The real anniversary wasn’t for another month or two, but that didn’t matter. As long as she didn’t say anything to Tristan about it, my white lie would go unnoticed.
An awkward silence stretched between us, myself wondering just how long I would have to go before I really knew if I was pregnant or not.
“Breakfast is ready,” she finally stated, her eyes betraying how uncomfortable she felt. In that moment, I was her employer and she was nothing other than a servant. The sight made my heart hurt.
“I’m sorry, Abella. Really.”
Sighing, she seemed to stand up taller. “You don’t need to apologize for feeling, Sam. I understand. I would have done the same thing if I’d remembered something unpleasant like that suddenly. I am, however, starving. Are you ready to eat? Monsieur O’Rourke is waiting for us. He looked like he was ready to faint from hunger.”
Laughing, I nodded, letting her lead the way out of the suite, glancing back at my form in the mirror once.
Carried Away (The Swept Away Saga Book 2) Page 12
