A Grave Inheritance (18 page)

Darkness shrouded the room when I woke, the only light coming from the fire in the hearth. Disoriented, I felt myself begin to panic, then remembered resting my head against the sofa in Mr. Faber’s private chamber. No longer sitting up, my head now rested on a pillow, a blanket tucked in around my shoulders. I stared into the fire, unmoving as I slowly reoriented to my surroundings. A chair scraped against the wood floor behind me. A man and woman spoke, their voices low and familiar.

“I searched everywhere, but there was no sign of her,” Cate said. “It’s like she’s purposefully trying to bait me into a game of cat and mouse.”

“What are you going to do?” Mr. Faber asked.

Cate paused for a moment. “I don’t know, Tom,” she said tiredly. “I honestly don’t know.”

I shrugged off the blanket and sat up, embarrassed to be found in such a state. They turned to look at me from where they were sitting at the table, a candle and two wine cups between them. “When did you get back?” I asked.

“Not too long ago,” Cate said. “Thirty minutes at most.”

“You should have woken me sooner. What time is it?”

Mr. Faber pulled out a pocket watch. “Half past seven.”

Good Heavens!
I had slept for five hours. “We should be going.” I stood and smoothed the wrinkles from my skirts.

Cate got up from the chair. “I couldn’t agree more. After this day, all I want is a warm supper and a hot bath. Good night, Mr. Faber.”

The carriage ride home passed in near silence. Once the footman closed the door, Cate apologized for leaving me at the smithy so long, then closed her eyes and withdrew into her thoughts. I watched her, my mind whirling with a thousand questions from this afternoon, all of them left unspoken and unanswered.

Sophie met us at the front door, a letter in hand for Cate. “Did anything arrive for me?” I asked.
A note from Henry perhaps, begging for my forgiveness.

“No letters, miss,” she said. “But Lord Stroud called this afternoon. When you weren’t at home, he asked if you would be going to Kensington later tonight.”

I gave her a confused look. “Why would he think to expect me at the palace?”

Cate handed me the letter. “Because we’ve been invited to attend Princess Amelia tonight for cards and entertainment.” She sighed. “Go get changed, it appears our night has just begun.”

Chapter Nine

The Greater Fool

We arrived at Kensington Palace well past ten o’clock, freshly powdered and bound beyond reason into fresh silk gowns. Cate moved with enviable ease despite the tight lacings, making it appear that breathing was truly optional. I tried to emulate her example as we followed a footman to Amelia’s private apartments, located in the princess’s quarters of the palace. There we found the festivities in full bloom, the sound of laughter and music spilling into the courtyard from the balconies and open windows.

Cate drew closer, speaking in a low tone before we entered the main drawing room. “Everyone here tonight has learned of your invitation and is anxious to see how the princess reacts to your arrival. Do not be offended when no one addresses you at first. They will not make a move until after Amelia has shown her intentions.”

“I thought she only wanted to meet me?”

“As would I if her behavior hadn’t been so peculiar of late. All I can think is that her feelings for Henry may run deeper than I ever imagined. My advice is to expect the best, but be prepared for the worst.”

I swallowed hard. “Do you mean public humiliation?”

“At this point anything is possible,” Cate said. “And remember, Amelia is not called the prickly princess for nothing. She has a wicked sharp tongue and enjoys saying just as many shocking things to people’s faces as behind their backs.” With these words ringing in my ears, we passed through the open door into Amelia’s quarters.

At least two score people came to view in the large, ornately decorated room. About half of the guests were seated around a string quartet playing in the far corner. The rest were socializing in small groups. Such was the noise that only those nearest to us turned when our names were announced.

“There she is,” Cate said. “Standing by the balcony with Henry.”

I glanced toward them, my breath catching when I caught Henry’s eye. Our gaze remained locked for several long seconds before I forced my attention to the lady beside him. Even with a room between us, Amelia’s beauty was easy to discern, her fair hair and fine features all that I imagined in a princess.

“Put on your best smile,” Cate said, linking her arm in mine. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner I get a hot bath.”

After the incident at All Hallows, I wasn’t sure whom I most loathed to see at the moment, Amelia or Henry. As we made our way through the crowded room, people glanced at us, their conversations growing hushed. Lady Catherine Dinley was well known in London, which left little speculation as to my identity. A knot tightened in the pit of my stomach for what lay ahead. A prickly princess I could handle. But having already suffered through one embarrassment at Henry’s hands last night, I was in no mood to be publicly humiliated in front of a room full of nobles.

Henry leaned over and whispered to Amelia. She turned, watched as we crossed the remaining distance. Leaving a few feet between us, Cate curtsied and I quickly followed suit. “Good evening, your highness,” Cate said. “May I present Miss Selah Kilbrid.”

Amelia looked at me, her intelligent blue eyes giving nothing away as she studied my face. I waited for her to speak first, keeping my gaze level despite the awkwardness of our situation. She bore little resemblance to the king, and I assumed took after her mother with her perfect oval face, flawless skin and small, straight nose. Flaxen curls adorned the top of her head, lightly powdered and glittering with a smattering of small diamonds. A gown of amethyst and silver damask accentuated her bosom and trim waist before falling over wide, oval hoops. Amelia appeared the perfect princess from head to toe, composed and arrogant, claws sheathed but ready to strike.

“Henry,” she said at last, tapping him playfully on the arm with a closed fan. “Why didn’t you tell me that your friend was such a beauty? Were you afraid that I would be jealous?”

Henry was also looking at me, and I soon felt like a bug under a glass. “I told you everything of consequence, Amelia,” he said. “Miss Kilbrid’s beauty is the least of her qualities.”

Amelia pursed her mouth, apparently unsure how to take his words—either he had just paid me a great compliment or a terrible insult. She let the matter go, glancing instead at my full bosom, which was pushed up even higher than usual by the tight lacings. “I see you are adapting well to London fashion, Miss Kilbrid,” she said with a wry grin. “Much to every gentleman’s approval, no doubt. I do wonder who you think the greater fool—us women for being bound or the men we so easily bind?”

Even with Cates’s warning, I was somewhat surprised by Amelia’s boldness. For better or worse, her audaciousness sounded like a challenge and I couldn’t help but respond in kind. “In truth, your highness, I believe that honor belongs to anyone foolish enough to overlook the mind for the sake of the body.”

Amelia’s face broke into a wide smile. “What do you think, Henry, are these qualities of equal merit? Can a man be brought to heel by a woman’s brain as easily as he can by her bosom?”

My foot twitched with a sudden urge to kick Henry in the shins. “From what I’ve heard, Lord Fitzalan sees such feminine power as unnatural and does not allow himself to be overly affected by a woman’s physical presence. Isn’t that right,
my lord?
”

The muscles tensed in his jaw. “A man would have to be made of stone not to be affected by you, Miss Kilbrid.”

“Is that a confession, my lord?” I asked tersely.

Amelia narrowed her eyes and glanced between us, obviously displeased by our banter. Feeling someone brush against my arm, I turned to find Julian beside me. Even though we hadn’t spoken since our first meeting, the bond between us was irrefutable. I could see it in his face, an amused, knowing expression for the secret we shared.

“You are just in time to settle a dispute, Lord Stroud,” Amelia said, drawing his attention. “We have been discussing Miss Kilbrid’s favorable attributes. As a man, do you find yourself drawn more readily to her brains or her bosom?”

My back stiffened and my face grew warm from this unwarranted attention, brought on by her subtle shifting of words. Julian glanced at me and met my eyes without looking any farther, though Amelia had practically invited him to do so.

“There is no need to answer, Lord Stroud,” Henry said, his voice holding a hint of warning. “The princess was only jesting.”

Julian kept his eyes on mine. “But I will answer, my lord. I say woe to the man who loves a woman blessed with both, for he shall never again be master of his own soul.”

The tension faded and I would have hugged Julian if not for the room full of people.

Amelia laughed appreciatively. “Well said, Lord Stroud. Flattery is such sweet balm to an awkward truth.” She glanced at me. “Please excuse us, Miss Kilbrid. Henry and I have promised to sit a game of whist with Lord and Lady Percival.”

As she started toward the card tables, Henry placed a firm hand on my lower back, leaning over to speak in my ear. “I will return shortly. In the meantime, I would rather you stayed away from Lord Stroud.”

“And I would rather you went to the devil.” I forced a tight smile. “It seems we are both to be disappointed tonight.”

He gave me a dark look, but I turned before he could say anything more. “It’s grown uncomfortably warm in here, Lord Stroud. Would you care to join me on the balcony?”

He extended his arm to me. “It would be my pleasure, Miss Kilbrid.”

Henry made a move to intercede when Cate stepped into his path. “Lord Fitzalan, I do so love whist. Might I watch you play?”

With Cate and Henry behind us, we stepped outside onto the balcony. The air was crisp, the sky full of stars. Turning toward the room, I stared at the card table where Amelia had taken a seat.

“She hates me,” I said sullenly.

“Amelia is known for being difficult. If anything I would say she was taking your measure.”

“She practically accused me of using my bosom to steal Henry away from her.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “Or maybe she was testing to see if there was any mettle in your spine.”

I sighed and shook my head. “Amelia meant to embarrass me and I’ve you to thank for stopping her. Hopefully, you will not soon regret your efforts on my behalf.”

“Never,” he said, with such sincerity that I glanced at him for a brief moment before returning my attention to the card table.

Henry had taken a seat opposite Amelia. The cards were dealt once the other couple joined them, but from my vantage point Henry appeared to have little interest for the game. In between turns, his gaze left the table, returning to where Julian and I stood on the balcony.

Amelia’s smug expression left little doubt to her present mood. And why would she not be happy? Henry was inside playing cards while I was outside sulking.
Good gracious!
Didn’t she realize that his company came from obligation? She may have won a small skirmish tonight, but I had already won the war. So why did I feel so awful?

Though out of earshot, I watched Amelia chat with the other players and onlookers. Henry seemed the only one disinterested in the conversation. That is, until Amelia said something that caused a loud burst of laughter. Lady and Lord Percival each turned in their chairs to look at me, clearly amused. More people were now glancing toward the balcony, their faces gleeful. Realization dawned quickly, turning my stomach to lead.

“Julian,” I said, my throat nearly too tight for words. “Will you please take me home?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Wait here. I’ll inform Lady Dinley so she’ll not worry.”

Julian stepped from the shadows into the room. I followed despite his request, unwilling to stay a minute longer in Amelia’s apartments. Setting my shoulders, I crossed the room, my eyes focused straight ahead. At the door, a young lady caught my attention, lifted a hand to her mouth and giggled. I brushed by her, not stopping until I was in the courtyard.

Lanterns burned on every wall, illuminating the stone pavers underfoot and wide graveled path that led to the main gate. Bathed in soft yellow light, I balled my hands into tight fists and struggled to steady my breath. Hot tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away.

A moment later Julian arrived at my side. “This way,” he said. Taking my arm, he led me away from the main gate and waiting carriages.

I quickened my stride to match his pace. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer and I was about to ask again when we passed a large hedge marking the entrance to a garden. Julian stopped and looked back toward the palace. I turned just as Henry appeared in the doorway.

My first instinct was to return to the courtyard. I attempted a step, but Julian held fast to my arm. “Do you really want to talk to him after what just happened?”

His words brought me up short. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say that if you were to be my wife, I would never have allowed anyone to amuse themselves at your expense. Not even a princess.”

My heart constricted painfully. From the shelter of the hedge, I watched Henry glance back and forth, searching the courtyard, then take off at a run toward the direction of the gate. “But he’s looking for me.”

“That does not make up for his earlier conduct.”

“You don’t understand. Henry has to be nice to her so the king will release him from the betrothal contract.”
And not arrest me in the meantime.
“I’m sure he was no more pleased with her behavior than I was.”

“So he was right to hold his tongue and let his friends mock you.” He gave a curt laugh. “Can you honestly say that you do not feel the least bit betrayed by his indifference?”

I wanted to protest, to argue further that Henry had no other option. The words wouldn’t come though, and I finally shook my head, knowing that Julian was right. Henry had let me down, had stood by in my time of need. Tears trickled from the corner of my eyes, wetting my cheeks before dropping to the ground. Julian placed a hand under my chin and gently lifted my face. Producing a linen handkerchief from a coat pocket, he started to dry my cheeks.