Royal Blood

by Rhys Bowen

  I arrived in the gallery outside the banqueting hall to find it brimming with people and even more decorations and jewels than the night before. And tiaras. Oh, Lord, I should have worn my tiara. I was wondering whether I’d have time to sprint back upstairs to fetch it when I was grabbed by Prince Siegfried.

  “You are looking enchanting, Lady Georgiana,” he said. “A most suitable gown, if you permit me to say so.”

  “I didn’t realize that tiaras were going to be worn,” I said. “I left mine in my room.”

  “It does not matter. You look delightfully refreshing, the way you are.”

  Why was he being so charming? Did he think that I knew something about him that he would not wish to be repeated?

  “Tonight you will allow me to escort you to dinner again?” he said and offered me his arm. I could hardly refuse and allowed myself to be led into the middle of the crowd. I was just wondering where his parents were when trumpets sounded. Dragomir, looking even more awe inspiring than ever, stepped forward. “The parents of the bride, Their Royal Majesties the king and queen of Romania, and the parents of the bridegroom, Their Royal Majesties the king and queen of Bulgaria,” he announced. The crowd parted and the royal couples, the queens dripping jewels and suitably crowned, processed down the middle, while those they passed curtsied and bowed. As they passed me I curtsied. The king of Romania held out his hand to me and gave me a warm smile. “So charming,” he said.

  The rest of us lined up to follow the monarchs into dinner. I was seated opposite Siegfried, not far from his parents. The seat beside me was empty and I looked around, realizing I hadn’t seen Matty. She came rushing in at the last minute, looking flustered.

  “Sorry, Mama, sorry, Papa. I overslept and that stupid maid didn’t wake me in time,” she said.

  Interesting, I thought. The maid had gone down in plenty of time. And the man I had heard her arguing with had not been her father. The meal started with a rich hunter’s soup. Matty took a sip or two then toyed with it. I was now intrigued. Who had been in her bedroom before dinner? I looked up and down the table at the various young counts and barons, trying to put a name to each face. Nicholas had introduced them one by one as he toasted them last night, but it seemed to me that most of them spoke German, not French. The only other option was that Matty had been speaking to someone like Dragomir; but would protocol permit that she allow a retainer into her bedroom, especially as I now knew that her maid hadn’t been present at that moment? Maybe Belinda had heard more and would be able to enlighten me, but my friend was now at the far end of the table, looking bored between two elderly gentlemen who were clearly both fascinated to be sitting next to her. Interestingly enough, my mother wore a similar expression at the other end of the table. Those two were so alike. It would have been much easier if Belinda had been her daughter instead of me.

  Matty’s unfinished soup was whisked away and a portion of trout was placed before us. The one good thing about this whole experience so far was that I had been eating good food again, but at this moment I was having as much trouble as Matty in eating anything much. Siegfried was saying something to me. I nodded and smiled, that knot of worry still in my stomach. Where the devil was Queenie? She couldn’t have left the castle, which meant she was somewhere and presumably safe. Knowing her, maybe she’d found a warm corner to curl up in and would have awoken feeling guilty by now.

  I glanced across at Matty, who was now trying to hide the trout under a lettuce leaf.

  “Is something wrong?” I whispered to her.

  “No, nothing at all. Why should anything be wrong?” she said. “But I just heard that the old man was poisoned. My maid told me.”

  “Your maid told you?” I asked with concern. “How did your maid find out?”

  “She overheard Patrascue talking.”

  “I see.” I wondered how many other people in the castle had overheard something and whether everyone now knew about the murder. So much for keeping it from Nicholas’s father if even servants knew about it.

  I observed her face. Just how much had her maid overheard? Did Matty really know that the poison was intended for Nicholas? She didn’t seem to and she went on, “It’s very upsetting. My whole wedding is turning into a nightmare. I don’t know why I thought it was such a good idea to come to the castle in the first place. Stupid of me. Stupid, stupid, stupid. We could have been at the palace in Bucharest, going to theaters and enjoying ourselves.”

  She broke off as her father, the king, rose to his feet. Dragomir rapped on the table with his gavel. “Pray silence for His Majesty King Michael.”

  The king proceeded to welcome all his guests, especially the bridegroom and his parents, and raised his glass in a toast to friendship between the two nations forever. We drank—those of us who were in the know a little tentatively, our eyes watching everyone else. Nobody keeled over, however, and the king went on.

  “As we share in the joy of our daughter’s nuptials, I am delighted to announce that there will soon be a second celebration to follow this one. My son has informed me that he too will take a bride.” Murmurs of approval from around the table. “And we shall be most delighted to welcome another descendant of our esteemed Queen Victoria into the family. Her father was my good friend, and I look forward to having her as my daughter.”

  I had been looking up and down the table to see who he was talking about.

  He picked up his glass. “So I ask us all to be upstanding and raise our glasses in a toast to my son, Siegfried, and his bride-to-be, Lady Georgiana.”

  Everyone was on their feet. I felt as if I were falling down a deep well shaft. I wanted to scream “No-o-o-o!” but everyone was smiling and raising their glasses to me.

  “You sly one. You didn’t tell me.” Matty embraced me and kissed me on both cheeks. “I can’t say I’d want Siegfried, but I’m so glad you’re going to be my sister.”

  What could I do? I had been brought up with etiquette rammed down my throat. A lady would never make a fuss at a banquet. A lady would never contradict a king. But this lady would never marry Prince Siegfried in a million years. Siegfried was raising his glass to me, pursing his cod lips in a kiss. Oh, God—please don’t say I’ve got to kiss him. The company sat down again. I hastened to sit before any kiss might be required. I hadn’t realized that the steward had pulled my chair out for me. One second I was standing, glass in hand; the next I was sitting on nothing and had disappeared under the table with a startled cry. Of course then all heads turned back to me again. I was hastily rescued from my undignified position, my face burning with embarrassment, and placed in my chair. Everyone around made a fuss of me, hoping that I wasn’t injured and pressing glasses of champagne at me. I heard murmurs of “Too much champagne going to her head” and “Attack of nerves, poor little thing.”

  Believe me, if I could have crawled under the table and escaped at that moment, I would have done so. But there were too many legs around. I was profoundly grateful when the next course was brought in—a Hungarian delicacy of flaming meats on a sword. It was applauded with oohs and aahs. I watched it as if I were looking at a film of someone else’s life. This couldn’t really be happening to me. When had I ever given Siegfried any indication that I might marry him? I felt a cold sweat creeping over me. I had actually come close to flirting with him last night. I had begged him to dance with me to keep him from paying a visit to Field Marshal Pirin’s room. And he’d taken that as a sign that I’d changed my mind. And this evening he had asked me something that I hadn’t quite heard and I’d nodded and smiled. Oh, golly—had he asked me if I’d changed my mind then? I thought he was only talking about the food or the weather. Doomed, that’s what I was. The words “producing an heir” echoed around my head. Followed by Belinda’s laughing suggestion that I lie back, close my eyes and think of England.

  That was never going to happen, if I had to throw myself off one of the turrets first. Well, maybe not quite as dramatic as that. Run away to Argentina, disgui
sed as a peasant, perhaps, or even go and live with Granddad in Essex. I wasn’t going to marry Siegfried, but I’d have to find a way out without anyone losing face. Maybe I could just happen to discover that he was more attracted to men than women and let his parents know that I could never condone such behavior. That ought to do it. Only not tonight. Not now. At this moment I had to be Siegfried’s intended.

  The meal finished with no more deaths, accidents or surprises and we ladies were escorted through to the withdrawing room for coffee and liquors. I was looking around to see if I could slip away unnoticed when the queen of Romania stood before me with open arms.

  “My dear child,” she said. “I can’t tell you how happy this has made me. It was our dearest wish and that of your royal cousins too.” And she embraced me.

  Suddenly I saw clearly: this whole excursion had been a plot to get me to marry Siegfried. I was never Matty’s dear friend at school. The queen could more properly have sent her own daughter to the wedding and not me. I was, as they say in American gangster films, set up. Framed. Duped. Ladies swarmed around me, patting me and offering congratulations. Even my mother came to peck me on the cheek. “Very sensible,” she whispered in my ear. “You’ll have a lovely dress allowance and he won’t bother you. A little difficult about future babies that Darcy has dark hair, but so does Siegfried’s mother, so that’s all right.”

  I looked up to see Belinda looking at me with wonder and amusement on her face. As soon as she could she dragged me aside. “Have you lost your mind?” she demanded. “You can’t be that desperate.”

  “I’m not and I haven’t,” I hissed back. “It’s all a horrible misunderstanding. I never said that I would marry him, but I had to humor him last night and he took it the wrong way. What on earth am I going to do, Belinda?”

  “Can I be a bridesmaid?” she asked, mirth bubbling up again.

  “That is not funny,” I snapped. “You’ve got to help me.”

  “You could let him know you’re not a virgin,” she said. “I gather that rather matters to people like Siegfried.”

  “But you know I am.”

  “Then remedy it rapidly.”

  “Thanks!” I laughed nervously. “And how am I supposed to do that? Darcy has gone away again, and I’m not desperate enough to want to remedy it with anybody else.”

  “I could lend you Anton, I suppose,” she said as if we were talking about gloves.

  “Belinda, you’re not taking this seriously.”

  “You have to admit it is too, too delicious for words, darling. You becoming Mrs. Fishface. At least you’ll be a princess and Fig will have to curtsy to you.”

  “I hardly think that makes up for being married to Fishface,” I said. “This is turning into the worst day of my life. Speaking of which, you haven’t seen my maid, have you?”

  “Probably sneaking off again to get at the cakes,” Belinda said.

  “No, I asked and she wasn’t below stairs. And she wasn’t in her room, either. I’m worried about her, given everything that’s happened.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked and I remembered that she wasn’t in on Pirin’s murder.

  “The vampires and everything,” I said, making her laugh again.

  “Sweetie pie, you don’t really still believe there are vampires in the castle, do you?”

  “In a castle like this it’s easy to believe in anything,” I said.

  “My lady, I believe congratulations are in order,” said a deep voice right behind me. I spun around to see Count Dragomir standing there. He bowed low. “I look forward to serving you as my princess.”

  As he went to withdraw I remembered my worry. “Count Dragomir, if you have a moment.”

  “Of course, Your Highness.” He put his hand to his breast and bowed. So I’d now been elevated to Highness in anticipation, had I?

  I beckoned him to one side. “Count Dragomir, I am concerned because my maid seems to have disappeared. She didn’t come to dress me for dinner and she is not in her room. I wondered if you could ask the other servants if they had seen her and perhaps even send out a search party to look for her for me. She may have taken a wrong turn and fallen down some dark staircase.”

  “You are right,” he said, “there are plenty of dangerous spots in a castle like this for those who wander where they shouldn’t. But do not concern yourself, my lady. I will set servants to the task immediately. We will find her for you.” He was about to move off again when I spotted Lady Middlesex and Miss Deer-Harte, who had come into the room together. I decided to ask one more question.

  “Count Dragomir. The English lady over there—she tells me that she observed a young man creeping about the hallways at night, and then the same young man hiding in one of the archways, watching the banquet on the first evening. I just wondered if you had any idea who that might be, or if it was possible that a stranger is hiding out in the castle.”

  “How can a stranger have come into the castle, my lady?” Dragomir asked. “You have seen for yourself—there is only one gate and it is guarded at all times. The only other way in would be to fly.”

  “Or climb up the wall?” I suggested.

  He laughed. “You have been listening to the rumors of vampires, have you not? No man in his right mind would attempt to climb the castle wall.”

  “So none of the servants has reported seeing a strange young man—pale, with fair hair?”

  “No, my lady. None of the servants has seen any kind of stranger in the castle. They would have reported to me instantly if they had. I’m afraid your English lady friend is letting her imagination run away with her. Remember how upset she was when she first arrived here. Of course His Highness, your betrothed, has light hair. Perhaps she saw him.”

  I wrestled with taking this one stage further and telling him that I had seen the young man myself and his portrait had hung in my room until it was mysteriously changed for another one. But Dragomir decided this for me by saying, “Pardon me, Highness, but I am wanted elsewhere.” And he backed away from me.

  I was just considering how strange it would be if I really were a princess and people had to back away from my presence, when Lady Middlesex came over to me, with Miss Deer-Harte in tow.

  “Well, there’s a turnup for the books,” she said. “I see you’ve made a good match for yourself. The queen will be pleased. My congratulations.”

  I managed a weak smile and nod. “I asked Dragomir if any of the servants had reported seeing Miss Deer-Harte’s young man, but he dismissed the idea that there could be a stranger in the castle.”

  “I know what I saw,” Miss Deer-Harte said emphatically. “And I’m going to prove to you all that I was right. He can’t escape in this weather so I’ll spot him eventually and I’m wearing my whistle. As soon as I see him I’ll blow it to attract attention.”

  “Watch what you’re saying, Deer-Harte—here comes that awful man.” Lady Middlesex glanced over her shoulder. And sure enough, Patrascue, with a couple of his men in tow, had entered the drawing room. Although everyone else was dressed for the evening, he was still in a black street coat with the collar turned up. He stood in the doorway, looking around. It was as if an icy blast had entered the room. The women froze in midconversation. Patrascue waved his hand lazily. “Do not let me disturb you, Majesties. Pray continue.”

  He spotted me and women stepped aside for him as he made a beeline for me. “I hear that congratulations are in order. So you changed your mind and accepted his offer, did you, English Lady Georgiana? Soon you will be one of my people. I look forward to that day.”

  Again I felt the threat: soon I will have control over you. But I managed a gracious nod and words of thanks.

  “The men have not yet left the dinner table, Mr. Patrascue,” the queen said in her clear French voice. “I suggest you leave us ladies to finish our coffee and brandy in peace.”

  “Majesty.” Patrascue managed a semipolite nod and retreated again. I heaved a sigh of relief.

&n
bsp; “Don’t let that man upset you, my dear,” the queen said, extending her hand to me. “I can’t think why he is so interested in you, but ignore him. We all do. Come and have a glass of cognac. You look quite pale.” And she led me back into the fold.

  Soon after, the men joined us. Siegfried and Nicholas came over to us. Siegfried took my hand and pressed his cold fish-lips against it. Uck. If it was that bad against my hand, I dared not think what it would feel like actually kissing him.

  “You are a very wise girl,” he said. “May I congratulate you on your good taste. You will lead a happy life.”

  I couldn’t think of a thing to say back. I merely tried to force a smile and wished that the floor would open up and swallow me. Fortunately Matty didn’t suggest dancing again so I wasn’t forced to dance with Siegfried. Instead a roulette wheel was brought out and what seemed to me like large sums of money were soon being wagered.

  “How old are you now, Georgiana?” Siegfried asked me.

  I told him I was twenty-two. He placed a stack of chips on twenty-two. “In your honor,” he said. “I feel sure you will bring me luck.” And sure enough, the wretched wheel landed on the number the very next spin. Siegfried smiled and pushed a mound of chips over to me. I put random chips on the board, without the slightest idea what I was doing, and it seemed that I couldn’t lose. I noticed that both Patrascue and Dragomir had entered the room and were standing watching in the shadows.

  “I think I had better give you back your chips before my luck turns,” I said when I could stand the tension no longer.

  “Your luck will not turn while you are with me,” he said, “and of course the winnings are yours to keep. You will need to start preparing your trousseau.”

  When I went to cash them in I was amazed and delighted to find that I had apparently won several hundred pounds. On any other occasion this unexpected windfall would have brought relief and jubilation. Tonight it was like a condemned man hearing that his horse came up on the Derby.