Authors: Johanna Lindsey
T
HE ENTERTAINMENT WAS TAKING
place in the Yellow Drawing room, on the opposite side of the palace from the main state rooms. Rebecca had gone in the wrong direction to begin with, so it took her much longer than she’d expected to find the room. If the queen had made an appearance, she’d already retired, because Rebecca saw only twenty people or so, mostly ladies, standing about chatting. A small podium stood empty in the middle of the room. Perhaps tonight’s entertainment had been a poetry recital. Rebecca’s mother had told her that the ladies of the court often arranged small entertainments for their own amusement when nothing official was taking place that required their attendance.
Now that it appeared that the recital was over, Rebecca would have left if she hadn’t spotted Elizabeth Marly across the room talking with two other girls their age. Dressed in the same gown she’d been wearing when she had left their room, Elizabeth certainly hadn’t shown up in costume. Which pretty much confirmed in Rebecca’s mind that Elizabeth had set her up for an embarrassing scene.
Without hesitating, she crossed the room and approached her roommate. She nodded at the other two girls, then whispered to Elizabeth, “Why did you lie to me?”
Elizabeth stiffened at the accusation. Making no effort to introduce Rebecca to her companions or even bid them good-bye, she pulled Rebecca away from the others before she replied haughtily, “Don’t be absurd, I never lie. And what, pray tell, am I supposed to have lied about?”
“The costume that you went to great lengths to get me to wear to this event? Does that refresh your memory?”
Elizabeth shrugged, though she was unable to conceal the smugness in her tone. “I merely got the days mixed up, easy enough to do around here.”
“If that’s true, why didn’t you come back and tell me?” Rebecca demanded.
“I sent a footman, but apparently he didn’t go directly to perform the task. You are quite out of line in suggesting I lied about it.”
Rebecca knew that was yet another lie. The girl’s smug, catty tone truly spoke for itself. Nor did she look the least bit contrite.
“Let’s go find this footman, shall we?”
“Oh, good grief,” Elizabeth snapped impatiently. “You really are going to be ridiculous about this, aren’t you? You aren’t wearing the costume, so obviously you found out in time that it wasn’t needed tonight. And how did you manage that?”
“An angel was looking out for me.”
Elizabeth lifted a brow, but must have decided not to address such an inane remark and said instead, “So there was no harm done then, was there?”
There could have been and they both knew it. And
Rebecca’s anger wasn’t cooling. An apology might have helped, but she obviously wouldn’t be getting one. And this stalemate wasn’t the least bit satisfying. She hadn’t thought Elizabeth would simply deny the allegations. As offensive as she’d been from the start, Rebecca had expected her to laugh or make fun of Rebecca’s gullibility.
So the only thing left to say was “Don’t try to embarrass me again. You won’t like the consequences.” And for good measure she added, “And you bloody well better not wake me when you come in—this time.”
“Or what?” Elizabeth shot back.
That was a good question. Rebecca had to think for a moment before she said, “Or I will develop a fondness for the sun shining into the room quite early in the morning.”
As threats went, Rebecca knew it was pathetic, but at least it got her point across. If Elizabeth wanted war, Rebecca was up to the challenge.
Having said her piece, Rebecca turned to leave and found three young women nearby grinning at her. Realizing they must have overheard some of what she’d said, she blushed and moved toward the door. One of them followed her into the hall and fell into step beside her.
“It’s about time someone called Elizabeth Marly on the carpet for her deplorable antics. Bravo,” the girl said with a bright, genuine smile. “I’m Evelyn DuPree. And I do hope you are Lady Rebecca Marshall?”
“Yes, but how did you know?”
“We were told to expect you tomorrow. You make the fourth maid of honor assigned to the Duchess of Kent. Unfortunately, Elizabeth Marly is also one of us, which means we can’t avoid her as much as we might like to.”
Evelyn was quite pretty with her sandy-brown hair and hazel eyes, and Rebecca guessed that she was a year or two younger than herself. Not all maids of honor needed to be of marriageable age. Their posts would last at least four years, or until the next general election.
“So I’m not the only one she’s made no effort to be friends with?” Rebecca asked as they continued down the hall.
“Goodness, no, I’m sure she dislikes everyone equally. It certainly does seem that way. She got here early and lords it over us, as if it gives her seniority, which of course it doesn’t.” But then Evelyn frowned. “Actually, she went overboard to be nasty to her first roommate last week, and from what I overheard in the Yellow Drawing Room just now, it sounds as if you have the unlucky distinction of being in that same position now.”
Rebecca nodded with a wince. “And there’s no way around it either.”
“Course there is,” Evelyn insisted. “Just ask for another room. She’ll end up making your life miserable if you don’t. It might take a few days to arrange it, but it would be worth the effort to get away from her for at least a portion of each day.”
“I don’t dare do that,” Rebecca said, and explained what the footman had told her.
“Well, that’s too bad, but you’re quite right,” Evelyn agreed. “Can’t have the queen thinking she erred in one of her suggestions.”
“I’ll make the best of it,” Rebecca assured the girl. “Now that I know she’s a liar I won’t be so gullible again. But what happened with her other roommate?”
“The girl went home in disgrace two days after she arrived. Elizabeth provoked her into causing a scandalous scene. There was shouting, and name-calling, and the poor girl was crying
all the while. I’ve never seen anyone quite that upset.” Then in a whisper, Evelyn added, “The girl even insulted Lady Sarah, who tried to intervene, and that was
not
a good idea.”
“Would that be Sarah Wheeler? The lady I’m to report to in the morning?”
“Yes, she has been given jurisdiction over us, and a good thing, too. At least she’s English. You did know the duchess is not? German is her native tongue. Most people barely understand the little English she speaks.”
Rebecca grinned. “Yes, I knew that. German isn’t the second language I learned, but I expect we’ll learn to speak it while we’re here.”
“Goodness, I hope not!” Evelyn said with feigned horror. “I was able to escape my last bit of schooling with this appointment, and I’d like to keep it that way! But we won’t have much to do with the duchess anyway, other than to spend most of our days in her quarters. Let her ladies of the bedchamber learn German in order to understand her. They’re her personal attendants. We’re just window dressing, as my mother would put it. If there’s an actual ceremony where she must make a public appearance, then, of course, we’ll be part of her entourage, but otherwise, we aren’t expected to be her companions unless she actually requests our company. Besides, she spends most of her time with the queen or in the nursery.” Evelyn chuckled. “She does so adore her granddaughter.”
As they continued to walk, Rebecca’s thoughts returned to her roommate. Now she understood what John Keets, the footman, had meant with his subtle warning.
“If Elizabeth’s former roommate was asked to leave because of a scene Elizabeth instigated, how is it that Elizabeth wasn’t dismissed as well?” Rebecca asked.
“There was no dismissal,” Evelyn said. “She probably expected to be dismissed, so she flew the coop, as it were, and resigned herself, leaving that very day. Lady Sarah preferred to sweep the whole incident under the rug.” Then Evelyn whispered, “We were told never to mention it again, but I felt you
had
to be warned, since by all accounts it appears that Elizabeth is going to try to provoke you into creating a scandalous scene as well. For a moment tonight, I thought she would succeed.”
For a moment tonight, Rebecca had thought the same thing. “Do you know why Elizabeth is so provocative? Knowing the cause might help to alleviate it.”
Evelyn gave that a moment’s thought. “You mean like jealousy or some supposed grudge?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it a grudge unless she blames everyone for her woes, which would be, well, silly, wouldn’t it? Jealousy now, hmmm, if so, my guess would be that it has to do with her lack of money. Her family isn’t well-to-do, so she might be feeling the pinch of that now that she’s among all the grandeur here. By all accounts, one of her ancestors squandered the family fortune with his gambling. You know, that might be why she gets along so well with Lady Sarah. Sarah comes from an impoverished noble family, too. But I don’t really know. Elizabeth might just be provocative because she deplores sharing a room. Her attitude seemed to improve last week when she believed she had that room to herself.”
They had arrived at the destination Evelyn had been steering them toward…the kitchen, of all places!
Evelyn was laughing at the look of surprise on Rebecca’s face and asked, “Hungry? I’m famished. We’re allowed access
here, of course. One of the first things I did when I arrived was to come here and make friends with the head cook, which I highly recommend you do as well. It’s wonderful having fresh pastries delivered to your room each morning. They’re rather stale by the time they get to the duchess’s quarters, where we take most of our meals.”
The huge area was still bustling with activity even at that time of night, with kitchen maids scrubbing dishes and mopping the floors, and cooks’ assistants making preparations for the next day’s meals. Rebecca thought Evelyn’s suggestion about the pastries was excellent, even if she might have to share those fresh pastries with a disagreeable roommate.
“Now that you mention it, I do believe I missed having dinner tonight.” Rebecca grinned. “Is the cook about? I’d like to meet him.”
“No, but I’ll be pleased to bring you back tomorrow for that introduction.”
“Thank you, and I mean that sincerely,” Rebecca said to her new friend. “You’ve been wonderfully helpful.”
“It’s my pleasure. I’m just glad you’re not another Elizabeth. One is quite enough!”
F
LORA WAS AMAZINGLY PERCEPTIVE.
Rebecca was able to give her maid the whole account of what had happened yesterday because Elizabeth had flounced out of the room before Flora had arrived. After a brief display of umbrage on Rebecca’s behalf, Flora came up with a logical plan of action.
“I’ll do her hair.”
Surprised, Rebecca turned around on the vanity stool where Flora was working on Rebecca’s hair. “You certainly don’t have to.”
“I know. But your mother didn’t expect you to land in a nest of vipers here. She expects you to have a wonderful time, to enjoy this grand come-out to the fullest. You can’t do that with a witch plotting ways to make you run home crying to mama as her last roommate apparently did.”
“The offer to do her hair may not make any difference, you know,” Rebecca warned.
“If it doesn’t, then I’ll stop. But there’s no harm in trying, is there?”
Flora had an optimistic nature. So did Rebecca—except in this case. Elizabeth’s unpleasant disposition seemed to be part of her nature, which meant a peace offering wasn’t going to improve it. But Rebecca knew her maid was right. It wouldn’t hurt to try.
John Keets was waiting in the hall to escort her to the duchess’s chambers that morning. Rebecca was grateful and tried not to appear too amused when he asked a few subtle questions about Flora.
The chambers where she and the other maids of honor would be spending most of their time were of a decent size and nicely appointed. Mary Louise Victoria, Duchess of Kent, might have moved into the palace with her finances in a shambles, but the queen supported her now.
Only Evelyn and another young girl, introduced as Lady Constance, were in the drawing room when Rebecca arrived. They were at a tea table, embroidering.
Constance looked a bit older than Rebecca, closer to the queen’s age of twenty-two. Yet to have gained the post of maid of honor, she couldn’t have been married yet. She wasn’t plain-looking, so Rebecca wondered what accounted for her lack of a husband.
“What are you both working on?” Rebecca asked as she sat down next to them.
Evelyn held up her satin square on which a pattern of vines and delicate flowers had been traced. “It was the duchess’s idea, and in fact she’s working on the larger center square of the blanket. When it’s finally pieced together, it will be presented to the Princess Royal. If you have a steady hand, please join us. There are extra squares and thread in that drawer over there.”
Evelyn nodded toward a cabinet in the corner next to sev
eral chairs and an assortment of large musical instruments. Rebecca hoped she wouldn’t be asked to play any of them herself.
She enjoyed embroidering but felt a bit too nervous on her first day at her new post to undertake fine needlework for a blanket intended for the princess.
“Has the duchess returned to the palace?” she asked.
“Not yet, but she’s due to arrive sometime this morning. And don’t worry, you won’t be expected to try to converse with her. She keeps to her private sitting room when she’s in chamber. Lady Sarah is in there now making sure everything is in order.”
“Terrifying the maids, no doubt,” Constance added.
“Nonsense.” Evelyn grinned. “She doesn’t really have a verbal whip.”
Rebecca raised a brow. “Is there something I should be warned about?”
“Not really. Sarah just seems overly abrupt with the servants. But then we’ve heard how lazy the maids were when the queen first made the palace her residence. Sarah must have heard that, too. The palace was quite dirty, you know, soot everywhere. But Prince Albert rectified all that with the improvements he made. And the servants seem fine to me now. Sarah just insists on perfection.”
“It’s more’n that, Eve, and you know it,” Constance said in a disapproving tone. “She even treats
us
like her own personal servants. Some of the errands she sends us on are highly inappropriate if you ask me.”
“Such as?” Rebecca asked curiously.
Constance started to answer, then frowned and closed her mouth. Evelyn chuckled, scolding the girl lightly, “Don’t worry, Rebecca isn’t one of Sarah’s spies. Elizabeth probably is, but
then we’ve seen how chummy those two are. Even now Elizabeth is off doing her bidding.”
“What sort of errands is she referring to?” Rebecca asked Evelyn directly.
“Lady Sarah dabbles in palace intrigue, by all accounts. She sent Constance to follow one of the ambassadors when he left the palace and report where he went and what he did. It was harmless enough. We certainly couldn’t figure out why she even wanted that information. But while we expect to run errands occasionally, Constance shouldn’t have been asked to leave the palace. And unchaperoned!”
“Why didn’t you just tell her no?” Rebecca asked Constance.
“You can’t tell
her
no,” Constance replied, aghast. “One word from her to the duchess and we’d lose our posts here. She does have that power over us.”
Rebecca frowned. “And she’s abusing that power?”
Evelyn sighed. “We’re making too much of this. She is in the employ of the duchess, after all. She never said as much, but the information she gathers
must
be at the duchess’s behest, so ultimately it must reach the queen’s ear. She wouldn’t dare use us for anything untoward.”
Rebecca was inclined to agree with that reasoning. But her mother definitely hadn’t warned her that she might be involved in palace intrigue. Actually, she thought it sounded rather exciting.
Evelyn was having the same thought apparently. “I find it amusing for the most part,” Evelyn said with a grin. “Like tonight at the costume ball, I am to distract a certain lord and then ask him an impertinent question, so that he will have his guard down and answer by rote rather than fob me off. How I am to distract him Sarah left to my discretion.”
Constance snorted. “You know very well she implied you should let him kiss you.”
Evelyn giggled. “Which I was hoping would happen anyway. He is quite a good catch, after all, and divinely handsome.”
The word
divinely
made Rebecca think of The Angel. She certainly hoped that wasn’t whom Evelyn was talking about. But she refrained from asking Evelyn the name of the nobleman she was supposed to distract simply because she wouldn’t know The Angel’s name even if she heard it.
The lady they had been discussing suddenly appeared. Bursting energetically out of the duchess’s sitting room, Sarah Wheeler didn’t pause, not even for a moment, when she took note of Rebecca’s presence.
“Come to my office,” she said as she continued through the drawing room, out the door, and into the hallway.
“You’d better hurry,” Evelyn suggested. “Or you’ll wonder where she disappeared to. Her office is just one door down the hallway.”
Rebecca nodded and quickly followed. Sarah had indeed disappeared, though she’d left the door open. Stepping inside a narrow hallway, Rebecca realized this was the duchess’s private entrance to her bedchamber.
“In here,” Sarah called before Rebecca made the mistake of continuing down the narrow hallway and entering the main bedchamber.
Rebecca turned into the first room to her left, which was the size of a closet. Sarah was seated at a small, cluttered desk pushed up against the wall. The two wooden chairs beyond the desk lacked cushions. Not much else could be stuffed in that little cubbyhole. There were no windows either, just a lamp
burning on the desk that left a thin haze of smoke in the room. But the subdued lighting was kind to the lady.
Rebecca thought Lady Sarah could be described as ugly, yet she certainly had an interesting face. She would have been simply plain-looking if not for her oddly close-set gray eyes coupled with her overly long, narrow face. A crooked nose, suggesting that it had been broken at some point, didn’t help her appearance. She was perhaps in her early thirties, though her age was rather hard to guess. Tall, even a bit more so than Rebecca, she was so thin she was nearly curveless. And her raven hair was coiffured much too tightly. Bangs would have softened her long face. Did the woman not realize that? She could make herself more attractive fairly easily. Or did she simply not care?
“I assume you are Rebecca Marshall?” the lady said, and barely waited for Rebecca’s nod before continuing, “Good of you to arrive on time at the palace. I’m Sarah Wheeler. It’s my duty to make sure you do not stray to idleness, but attend all functions expected of you and be available should the duchess require anything of you. Your stay here is to benefit the court as well as yourself. So you and I will get along just fine as long as you bring no shame to your post and do as you’re told.”
The lady smiled warmly. It was probably meant to put Rebecca at ease, yet something was oddly off-kilter about Lady Sarah’s smile, as if it wasn’t quite sincere.
“You might have already been informed that there is to be a costume ball tonight? The queen might even attend, though if she doesn’t, that is understandable. She is quite far along in her second pregnancy, after all. But you are expected to attend. Do you have a costume?”
“My mother and I overlooked that necessity in our rushed
preparations to get me here on time. But my roommate helped me put a costume together for tonight.”
“You’re sharing a room with Elizabeth Marly, aren’t you? She’s a good girl. You can benefit from her advice, I’m sure. But be better prepared next time.”
Rebecca had to choke back a laugh at the glowing description of her roommate, but then Evelyn had warned her that Elizabeth and Sarah got along splendidly. “I will be,” Rebecca assured the lady. “I have already sent a missive to my—”
“About tonight,” Sarah cut in, not interested in any information she didn’t ask for. “I may have something special for you to do after the ball begins. It’s a matter of grave importance, but I’m not sure you’re capable of the task.” After a thoughtful pursing of her lips, she added, “I’m sure you’re as innocent as you should be, but how naive are you?”
Intrigue. The other girls had warned her, but Rebecca certainly hadn’t expected to be called upon for that sort of duty this quickly. Did she really want to get involved? Did she have a choice? Perhaps, since she suspected her answer would determine whether she would be a benefit to her country, or an obscure maid of honor who never met the queen…
With visions of being heroic and having Queen Victoria’s personal gratitude as a result, she replied, “Only as naive as I need to be.”
Sarah Wheeler chuckled. “I like that answer. I think you’ll do.”