Amberley Chronicles Boxset II (Amberley Chronicles Box Sets Book 2)

by May Burnett

  Rook continued his enquiries for another two hours, until the increasing warmth of the day tired his horse, and his own hunger was no longer to be repressed; he had missed breakfast, his favourite meal of the day. He stopped in a picturesque lakeside inn for lunch, while his horse was fed, watered, and rested before a slow ride back to Amberley. He talked to at least a dozen people on the way back, once again without the slightest result. By the time the weary horse and rider returned to Amberley it was close to five, and Rook was convinced that unless Miss Prentice possessed the power to turn invisible, she had not travelled on that road when she left. Maybe one of the other searchers had been more successful than he?

  Alas, they had been equally frustrated. Anthony had returned only an hour earlier, and reported failure as well. Seventeen grooms had scoured every hamlet and house in the vicinity, and every road and path in the neighbourhood, but to no avail.

  “How did the Princess take the news?” Rook asked George, who had come out to greet him as Charger was led away to a well-deserved repast and thorough brushing.

  “She wants to see you as soon as possible,” his host said, shaking his head. “You’d better come in.”

  Chapter 14

  Anna woke up with a stiff neck and a slight headache, which persisted even after the breakfast she took in her room. The Princess had commanded her presence for ten, and had also elected to break her fast in privacy; the maids were efficiently removing the cups and plates from the table in her sitting room when Anna arrived.

  She curtseyed and waited till the servants had left. “Your Royal Highness, have you been informed that the foolish girl who lied about marriage to the Marquess yesterday evening has gone missing overnight?”

  “Run away?” Gisela clearly had not heard of the matter before. “How odd.”

  “All the men are out and about looking for her. There is a concern that she might have drowned herself out of disappointed love.”

  “Surely not,” the Princess commented with distaste. “I daresay she just wants to add to the drama she treated us to last night.”

  “I hope you are right.” Miss Prentice was foolish indeed, but it was a good thing nobody from this English household was here to observe the Princess’s reaction. “It might be best to pretend a minimum of concern, if I might suggest, Your Royal Highness. Your bridegroom has gone out searching for the girl on that big horse of his, and I hear the servants are inclined to regard us as the interlopers who have precipitated what might be a tragedy. Your father, the Prince, would not appreciate negative comments in the English press.”

  “You really think there is such a possibility? The girl is not even titled. And who cares what the servants think?”

  “A tragedy involving a pretty, rich young Englishwoman and a foreign Princess might be of great interest to the sensational papers,” Anna insisted, though she could see the Princess’s mouth turning downwards in denial. “This is not Obernberg, where nobody would dare to print anything critical of your family. The English press is notorious for its merciless lampooning of selected victims from the upper class. Even George IV, during his regency, was a favourite victim.”

  “What a disorderly state of affairs,” Gisela complained. “You know the country better than I – is there really such a danger?”

  “A very real one, in my judgement, Your Royal Highness.”

  “Then let’s hope the chit is found quickly, and none the worse for wear.” The Princess now looked faintly upset. “Quite apart from this unpleasant incident, I suppose these papers might write scurrilous articles about me – about my family – in future as well?”

  “It is a circumstance with which all famous and distinguished persons in the country must make their peace, unfortunately.”

  The Princess did not reply, but from her expression it was easy to deduce what she thought of a country which could not keep its scribbling classes under proper control.

  “They particularly like to report on your betrothed’s doings,” Anna added. ”He is known to all readers of the country’s gossip sheets and there has been much speculation about his future bride, almost as much as if he were a member of the royal family.”

  “I suppose he is very good-looking,” Gisela said grudgingly, “if you like blond hair, that is. What would you call that eye-colour of his?”

  “Hazel,” Anna said, not having to think about it for a moment.

  “I prefer blue or brown, more definite colours.” The Princess took up her embroidery. “Please read to me, Komtesse.” She gestured towards the Goethe novel, still unfinished even after the long carriage ride.

  “Willingly,” Anna lied, “but might we not read outdoors on such a splendid summer day as this?”

  “What for?”

  “Healthful exercise,” Anna suggested. She refrained from adding that all the other ladies in Amberley were slim and energetic, as she was herself; it might do the Princess good to bestir herself every now and then.

  “I shall walk for half an hour when the Marquess returns from his search,” Gisela decided. “Make sure that he comes to me right away.”

  “As you please.” That would be many hours yet, Anna calculated, resigning herself to a day of dreary captivity.

  She had not read more than five pages, however, before a message from Lady Amberley was delivered, inviting them to join her for a visit to the nursery, followed by tea in the winter garden, to while away the hours until luncheon was served.

  “I suppose we have to go,” Gisela said reluctantly. “I hope this nursery is not too full and noisy.”

  “Most mothers dote on their children,” Anna warned. “They believe that others will be as enchanted with their little darlings, as they are themselves.”

  “It’s not the first nursery I visit.”

  The butler conducted them two floors upwards, towards a set of rooms overlooking the gardens at the back of the house. Even from the distance, excited children’s voices could be heard.

  “Your Royal Highness – I am so glad you decided to join us here this morning,” Lady Amberley said in French, with a friendly smile, “And you too, Komtesse.” She was flanked by Lady Minerva, whose expression was polite but not cordial. “My little Verena has been so curious to see a real life princess, I am happy I do not have to disappoint her.”

  Ignoring the Princess’s lack of response she led the group into the large room from which the childish noises came. Anna stopped short at the threshold, charmed at the picture of three five-year-olds playing siege with a toy castle, a tiny black-and-white dog encouraging the game with excited yips.

  Gisela stopped dead. “There it is again – that dog!”

  The smallest of the children, a brown-haired sprite, came to curtsey and greet the Princess and Anna. Gisela’s baleful stare at the little animal disconcerted her for a moment. Anna could not help herself – she smiled at the child behind Gisela’s back, and followed the smile up with a funny face. The child regained her confidence in a moment, and giggled as she completed her curtsey.

  “My daughter Verena,” the Countess said, pride and love in her voice.

  “You allow her to keep a dog here in the nursery?” The Princess looked at her hostess with keen reproach. “You know that I do not like them. I cannot imagine it is sanitary for a child to have an animal around all the time.”

  “Brandon is my friend,” Verena said, taking the dog into her thin arms in a posture that proclaimed her readiness to defend him to the death. “You do not look like a princess, just as Rook said.” Anna breathed a sigh of relief that the child was speaking in English.

  “Here in England, we do things differently, you will find,” Lady Amberley quickly said to the Princess. Her smile was distinctly less friendly than it had been only a minute ago.

  Anna would have liked to know what else Rook had said to young Verena. Was the Marquess in the habit of talking frankly to small children? It was not a wise thing to do, but it showed him in an unexpected, almost likeable light.
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  The other two children approached, and introduced themselves in correct French with a bow and curtsey. They were twins, Roger and Violet Ellsworthy, the niece and nephew of the earl. Several anxious nannies observed the scene.

  “And in here are the babies,” Lady Amberley said, opening a door to another room. There were three altogether, one sleeping in a cot and the two others crawling around and putting various toys into their mouths.

  “This is my younger daughter Amelia,” Lady Amberley said, pointing to one of the crawling infants. The baby had fuzzy chestnut hair and greenish eyes, and immediately stretched out her fat rosy arms to be taken up and hugged by her doting mother. The Countess looked lovely with her babe in her arms, but the sight did not affect Gisela, who only said, “Quite a nice-looking child,” with a bored expression.

  Lady Amberley and Lady Minerva exchanged a look that made Anna’s heart sink. Princess Gisela had just acquired two enemies – and she was completely unaware of the fact, or how this could affect her as the wife of the young Marquess. These would be the women among whom she was expected to move for the rest of her life. Had Gisela not understood yet that this betrothal made it advisable, indeed necessary, to look for allies among her new milieu?

  “I do hope that at least you keep the dog out of this place, with its smaller children,” the Princess observed. “It cannot be healthy if they should breathe in any of its hairs.”

  “Don’t worry,” Lady Minerva replied, “the children are safe enough.”

  Tea in the winter garden, an oasis of green, was pleasant enough. The wide-open French door, close to which Anna chose to sit, was almost as good as being outdoors. They were joined by Mrs. Ellsworthy, wearing an elegant light blue morning dress.

  “Is there any news of poor Miss Prentice?” Anna asked Mrs. Ellsworthy in a low voice, while the Princess and Countess were comparing, somewhat stiffly, childcare practices in Obernberg and England.

  “Not yet,” Mrs. Ellsworthy said tersely. “I do hope the girl is found safe and sound. She is so very young – just eighteen.”

  “Old enough to know better,” Anna said, “but passions are so strong in some people, that age is of little importance. If there is anything I can do to help, let me know.”

  “You?” Mrs. Ellsworthy’s look suggested astonishment.

  “I was eighteen too, not all that long ago. I can sympathize, even if I cannot understand what would drive any girl to scare her poor parents like that. It seems selfish beyond belief.”

  “Young people in love can be appallingly selfish, that is true.”

  Anna turned the subject. “Those twins of yours are charming, and the girl looks very much like you. Was one of the babies yours also?”

  “Yes, little George. He is a slug who likes to sleep the day away. The other boy is Minerva’s Oscar.”

  Lady Minerva, who had been sipping tea in silence to their left, turned her head and stared at Anna. “Your Princess does not seem much fonder of children than she is of dogs,” she said coolly. “Is there any kind of creature she does like?”

  “Minerva!” Mrs. Ellsworthy sounded like a mother chiding her misbehaving daughter. “Remember that the Princess and Komtesse are guests in Marianne’s house.”

  “It is not something we are likely to forget for a moment,” Lady Minerva said. “I beg your pardon if I have offended you, Komtesse. My question was quite serious, however. If your Princess is to marry Rook, whom I consider a friend, an indifferent attitude towards children is not a good sign.”

  “Many women are exclusively interested in their own children,” Anna said. “Princesses are raised not to show their emotions openly. What might seem indifference, is not necessarily so.” She felt like the world’s worst hypocrite, defending what she herself censured internally. Where did the loyalty she owed the House of Obernberg end? She was close to the limit, lying to these ladies like this.

  “At any rate, I found the children enchanting. Tell me more about Lady Verena’s little dog. It is a King Charles’ spaniel, isn’t it?”

  It did not take her long to engage them in polite, civilized small talk. But out of the corner of her eyes she kept looking at Princess Gisela. and the Countess of Amberley’s increasingly rigid smile. Did she herself look like that when she had to spend long periods alone with Princess Gisela?

  And did the Marquess deserve this fate for the rest of his life? Despite herself, Anna felt an unwelcome twinge of pity for the young man.

  Chapter 15

  “The Princess will just have to wait,” Rook said impatiently. “Has there been any trace of Miss Prentice? I am sure that she did not take the road to the lake, and I talked to dozens of people over the day. How are her parents coping with the situation?”

  “They are nearly out of their minds with worry,” George told Rook, “and I suspect anger at their daughter, that they cannot express just now. Under the circumstances they are not participating in our meals, but will remain here at Amberley until we know for sure what happened, one way or the other.”

  “James, Anthony, the grooms, did they find anything?”

  “There was one possible trace,” George said, “a young female in a shabby cloak boarded the mail coach at Kendal, paying cash for a ticket, with no previous reservation. But it was dark, and nobody saw her face clearly enough to be sure it was Miss Prentice.”

  “At what hour?”

  “Around two in the morning. She would have had to walk for at least two hours and know exactly where to go. I would have supposed she was too distraught for that sort of planning, but what do I know? That girl’s whole behaviour is incomprehensible to a sober fellow like me.”

  “Indeed,” Rook said. “Has anyone gone after the mail coach?”

  “It would have arrived in London well before anyone could catch up with it, but James has left already, to make inquiries in town.”

  “Good,” Rook said. “I can’t think of anything else to do just now, except report to the parents that she almost certainly did not drown herself, whatever nonsense she may have spouted to Minerva. Will you do that? I fear they blame me for the girl’s actions, and don’t want to upset them.”

  “Certainly. I have already been relaying all the other reports to them.”

  “Then I’ll bathe and change and face the Princess. Does she also blame me for Miss Prentice’s disappearance?”

  “I don’t know. She just looks unhappy, and Marianne also. A visit to the nursery was not a success, I gather. Maybe the Komtesse can tell you exactly what your betrothed now finds to complain about.”

  “I’m sorry to hear you so harassed,” Rook said. “It must have been a difficult day for you as well.”

  “Indeed. I have been co-ordinating the search, and consoling the parents. But don’t apologize for the Princess – remember she’s not your wife yet. If you do marry the woman, you’ll be apologizing enough, for the rest of your life, both to her and to everyone else. Don’t do it, Rook.”

  Rook essayed a smile, but was not sure how it turned out. George’s words painted a vista of the future from which he instinctively recoiled.

  He presented himself to the Princess and her companion over an hour later, changed and freshly bathed and shaved.

  “Her Royal Highness wanted to take a turn around the gardens,” the Komtesse told him after he had greeted them with precisely measured bows. “It is getting late, however, and the weather has turned too cool.”

  “We could walk around the gallery,” Rook suggested, “and admire Amberley’s ancestral portraits as we talk.”

  The Princess was consulted, and gave her approval. Rook extended his arm. As before, the Komtesse walked alongside, translating from German to English and back.

  “Have you found that foolish girl?” Gisela asked. Anna translated it as “Is there any news of the poor girl who disappeared?”

  “Nothing certain, but she may have gone to London,” Rook explained. “The Earl’s brother, James, has gone there to follow up on the p
ossibility.”

  “Have such things happened to you in the past?”

  A reasonable enough question under the circumstances. “No, surprising as it may seem, this is the first time a young lady has claimed to be married to me, and subsequently vanished. Until last year I was not nearly so popular. I shaved off the moustache I had at the time, because Lady Verena disapproved of it. Since then a number of foolish girls have claimed to fall in love with me.”

  He felt both the Princess and the Komtesse scrutinize his face with interest, trying to imagine how it had looked with a moustache.

  “You shaved it on the advice of a child?” The Princess shook her head. “Maybe you should let it grow again. This sort of affair is all too likely to lead to unpleasant notoriety.”

  “I fear the harm is already done,” Rook said. “I have got used to a clean-shaven face, and do not plan to have any kind of beard in the future.” His voice was firm. It would not do to accept the Princess’s commands, or even advice, on something so personal. “How was your day here in Amberley, while I have been riding about the countryside?”

  They had arrived at the gallery, and paused for a moment in front of the Canaletto, with its precise vistas of a Venetian street scene. Next to it a life-size former Lady Amberley with powdered hair and enormous hoops posed next to her two young sons. Both boys had the same chestnut hair as Lady Minerva and James.

  “We met the children in the nursery,” Gisela said, “and that reminds me – why was the little dog there? The Countess is aware that I cannot abide canines or cats.” She sounded baffled at this incomprehensible circumstance.

  “Princess, a mother’s care for her children’s happiness may well be greater than her regard for the peculiar wishes of her guests.”

  The Komtesse frowned at this reply, and translated it as, “Your Royal Highness, her love for her child may have led the Countess to forget what is due to a royal guest.”