A Grave Inheritance (8 page)

Confusion puckered my brow. “Impossible,” I breathed. Even if she had been carrying a handful of ice, frostbite would never have set in so quickly.

The door swung open, and Beth hustled in with a large towel draped over one arm. “Her ladyship asked that ye not dawdle for fear of upsetting the king.”

Nerves jolted me upright. Pushing to my feet, I stepped from the water, leaving all thoughts of the wretch behind.

Dressed in clean shift and stockings, I surveyed the various gowns that Beth had placed around the room at my request. Four were made of good silk and suitable for the occasion, if only they didn’t smell musty from being stored for so long in the bottom of my trunk. Four others were wool, much too informal for meeting the king, but having the distinct advantage of smelling much better.

I crossed the room to my favorite gown, ivory silk with a profusion of painted flowers. I sniffed one of the sleeves before dropping it in disgust. “Hang it all!” I huffed, “I’ve to choose between offending his majesty’s nose or his eyes!”

“This one’s not so bad,” Beth said, lifting a handful of rose silk. “I can sprinkle lavender water all over ye, and the king will think ye smell like a flower.”

I gave her a dark look. “More like a stink weed that has been left in the cellar for too long. Oh, very well, I’ve no other option. Bring it here and we’ll see what can be done.”

Beth was placing the last pins when someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” I called, my voice sounding as dispirited as I felt.

Cate appeared dressed in a coral silk gown, fitted over wide oval hoops. “Are you about ready?”

I nodded sullenly as Beth pushed in another pin. “Just this last bit, milady, and she’ll be done.”

With an appraising look, Cate crossed to where I stood. Mildew and lavender suffused the air around me, and I pretended not to notice when she leaned closer and wrinkled her delicate nose. “Gowns need time to air after being packed away for so long,” she said. “Not to mention a good pressing.”

I glanced down at my rumpled skirts. “Beth is still learning how to iron properly.” For once I thought Nora might have been right about my selection of maids.

“Hmmm.” Cate studied me as though I were part of an exhibit. Then she gave a mischievous smile. “He won’t like it, but I’m afraid desperate measures call for desperate actions. Come with me.” She turned, leaving me to follow in her wake as she marched down the hallway and into another room. Opening the door of an adjoining dressing room, she stepped inside, returning a moment later with her arms overflowing with gowns.

“Choose quickly,” she said, laying them out on the bed. “The king is not a patient man.”

There were five gowns in total, each one nicer than anything I currently—or had ever—owned. My pride bristled and I felt even more wrinkled, smelly, and just plain inadequate. Cate had already taken me into her home, the last thing I wanted was to wear her clothing. “You are very kind to offer one of your own gowns, but I should be able to find something of my own to wear. Maybe one of your maids can help Beth with the ironing.”

Cate laughed. “These are your gowns, Selah, not mine. Henry is sure to be cross with me for spoiling the surprise. He planned to show them to you himself this afternoon before he was called away.”

Dumbfounded, I looked at the pile of silk and brocade. “They can’t be mine,” I stammered. “Henry would know I couldn’t accept them yet.”

“Because such a gift is only appropriate for a wife?”

I nodded. No lady in her right mind would ever accept anything so intimate or expensive as clothing from a gentleman for the message it implied. “It’s not right. People will get the wrong impression.”
They’ll think I’ve consented to be his mistress.

She placed a hand on my arm. “Selah, no one knows they are from Henry other than myself. He wrote down your measurements and the types of material to use and had me place the order under your name. He wanted you to be happy in London and not self-conscience while at court. I think he also enjoyed defying the king by doing something only a husband ought to do. It was a small way that he could begin preparing for your life together.”

I stared down at the bed, unsure what to think. Half of me couldn’t wait to try them all. The other half ached with hurt pride and impropriety. I was the sole owner of the largest wheat farm in Pennsylvania. I might not be as wealthy as the Duke of Norland, but certainly I could keep myself in proper clothing.

“Don’t reject his gift, Selah. You’ll break his heart.” She reached down and lifted up a gown of brown silk interwoven with large cream-colored flowers. “This should do for tonight,” she said, holding it up to me. “I was surprised Henry would pick such a dark color for a young lady, but he said it was the color you wore when you two married in the Colonies and that he would see it on you again.”

I whipped my head up, startled that she knew the details of my past with Henry.

“Well,” she said, her eyes sparkling playfully, “
married
might not be the right word since he was only pretending to be your cousin at the time. I guess fulfilling a mutual bargain is closer to the truth.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“Henry was very frank about your time together, but don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

I stared at her, trying to gauge exactly what she meant by my secret. There were secrets that I preferred to keep quiet due to their embarrassing nature. Then there were secrets that would compromise my life. Certainly, Henry hadn’t told her about Brigid and my power to heal.

Cate placed the gown in my arms, effectively ending any further thoughts on the subject. “Put this on,” she said, “and I’ll call for the carriage.”

The sky glowed a dingy orange when we set off for Kensington Palace. Most of the short journey passed in silence while I fidgeted nervously with my gloves and resisted the urge to tug at my bodice, which had been cut low and tight to meet London fashion. Cate stared out the window at the passing landscape, her face a picture of serenity that contrasted sharply with the nervous anxiety coursing through my body. I envied her detached position. Though she had offered to accompany me, there was no use pretending that she had anything to lose tonight.

The carriage came to a stop and a footman hurried from his rear perch to open the door. Cate went out first, smoothing her skirts as I followed. Glancing around, I realized that we had bypassed the front of the palace, stopping instead outside an arched metal door built into a high brick wall.

“Where are we?” I asked.

She knocked on the door, the force of her gloved hand barely resonating against the thick metal. “A private entrance to the king’s apartments. Every tongue within a mile is sure to be wagging about your arrival and I would prefer to draw as little attention as possible. And judging by the hour, Henry has probably returned from hunting. It would be best for him not to know that we are here.”

The heavy door swung open. A solidly built guard stepped forward, well-armed and glowering. Seeing Cate, his stern face broke into a smile. “Good evening, my lady,” he said with a bow. “His majesty thought you would be accompanying Miss Kilbrid tonight. I am to bring you right up.” The man moved aside, and we stepped through the doorway into a large courtyard where I saw several more guards milling about.

“Good evening, Peter,” Cate said. “How is your little girl? Much improved, I hope.”

“Yes, my lady, thanks to the tonic you brought over. The fever broke soon after you left and the cough is not a bother anymore. My wife says it will be good as gone in a few more days. We’re most thankful for everything you did for us.”

“I’m very glad to hear it,” Cate said, then glanced across the courtyard toward another door. “Did you happen to notice his majesty’s mood tonight? Should I prepare for the lamb or the lion?”

Peter gave me a furtive look. “The lion, I’m afraid, my lady. The king’s temper turned black as coal once word reached the palace of Miss Kilbrid’s safe arrival.”

Cate sighed. “Well, we best get it done with. Would you be so kind to lead the way, Peter?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Inside, the heavy shadows called for a candle, and I was barely able to see the stairs to avoid tripping. We stopped at a large wooden door, flanked on either side by two more guards.

“Miss Kilbrid and Lady Dinley to see his majesty,” Peter said.

One of the guards knocked on the door and disappeared inside.

“Best of luck to you, my lady,” Peter said, bowing again before he slipped back down the hallway toward the stairs.

Cate placed a hand on my arm and leaned close to whisper in my ear. “Do not sit in his presence,” she warned me. “And let him speak first. When it is your turn, keep your tongue well curbed no matter what he may say. Together, we may be able to tame the lion this evening.”

The door opened again, giving me a limited view of what looked like a study. Candles had been lit and their soft, yellow light mixed with the last rays of the setting sun. From what I could see, books lined the expansive walls from floor to ceiling, and those not fitting on the shelves were stacked haphazardly in one corner. Directly across from us, I glimpsed a man sitting behind an expansive desk, scratching a quill across a sheet of parchment.

“His majesty the king will see you now, my lady,” the guard said to Cate while ignoring me altogether.

Cate swept into the room first, her silk gown swaying slightly from the movement. I followed, stopping at her side about ten paces from the desk. We curtseyed together, so deeply my knees nearly brushed the floor before we returned to full height.

The man behind the desk remained silent, content to just stare at me. Bulging blue eyes rivaled the proud nose as the most prominent feature on his face. He wore a gray powdered wig, combed back in the middle, the ponytail secured in a black silk bag at his shoulders. His coat was magenta velvet, which he wore over a brocaded goldenrod waistcoat.

He kept his eyes firmly locked on mine, and not until I started to sweat did I notice a fire crackling in the fireplace to my far right. I had begun to wonder if we were to pass the entire evening engaged in a staring contest when he pushed himself up and slowly walked over to where we stood. He stopped at my side opposite Cate, his feet planted wide as he studied my profile. I stood still, my muscles tense, unsure what to expect.

“So, here eez zee interloper,” he said, abruptly breaking the silence.

I continued to stare straight ahead, a little surprised by his thick German accent. It was common knowledge that King George II had been born and raised in Hanover, not coming to England until he was over thirty years of age when his father ascended to the throne in 1714. Still, even with this knowledge, I had expected the King of England to sound more like an Englishman.

“A beggar from zee Colonies, who has tricked my nephew into sinking he loves her.”

My face burned with anger. I may have coerced Henry into a sham marriage, but his love was his own doing.

And I was no beggar.

Since the king hadn’t yet asked a question or granted permission to speak, I fumed in silence, offering no defense to his insults.

“Or maybe,” he said, “my enemies have put you up to zis trouble. Zee betrothal between zee princess and Lord Fitzalan makes zem nervous. Some of my enemies vould like to see Lord Fitzalan connected to zee Irish instead of to me. Vat do you say to zee charges, Miss Kilbrid? Can you deny zem?”

Taking a deep breath, I kept my eyes straight ahead. “With all due respect, your majesty, the charges lack merit.” I spoke with relative calm despite my anger. “Henry and I planned to marry before I knew his true identity. At the time, I thought I had fallen in love with an indentured servant, not a noble lord.”

I could practically feel his eyes boring a hole in my cheek. His breath quickened, filling my nose with the scent of sour wine. “You can never make him happy. You vill ruin his life. Your father vas a traitor, and you are zee same.”

My temper flared and I turned to face the king before there was time to reconsider. “No, he wasn’t! William of Orange stole our land and had my father falsely accused to cover his crime.” The words spilled out before I could stop them, and I hurriedly added a humble, “your majesty,” in an attempt to soften my outburst.

The king eyes widened, bulging even more than before. From his thunderous look, I had obviously crossed a line and would soon be paying the consequences. On my other side, I sensed movement, followed by the sound of rustling silk.

“Please forgive her, your majesty,” Cate said. “She is a young girl, ruled more by passion than common sense.” While she spoke, she placed a hand on the king’s arm. He didn’t pull back, but accepted her touch as he continued to stare at me.

A few tense seconds passed before the simmering heat began to fade from the king’s eyes. Soon, his expression also relaxed and he turned to smile at Cate. “You are right. Zee young have no manners nowadays. And my nephew eez zee worst of all. He eez determined to marry zis little upstart, no matter zee cost to his family’s name.”

His words made me wince, but I held my tongue, subdued by my earlier foolishness.

“I could fix zee whole mess by sending her to zee West Indies. I hear demand is high for indentures on zee sugar plantations.”

My back stiffened at his suggestion. “You could do that, your majesty,” Cate said, “but I fear Lord Fitzalan would follow Miss Kilbrid to the ends of the earth. As you already know, he was at my home today, and I’ve never seen a man so deeply in love.”

The king frowned. Then he lifted his hand and traced a slow line along my cheek, making me flinch. “I vill make her my own mistress,” he said, stubbornly. “Lord Fitzalan eez not a man to accept another man’s scraps, eh?”

Did this man have no shame? I was a law-abiding subject of the crown, yet in two breaths he had threatened to either sell me into servitude or turn me into his personal whore. My nostrils flared as I stared at his insolent face, my hand itching to deliver a smart slap just before I stormed from the room.

Fortunately, Cate was not so easily offended nor deterred. “A bold move, your majesty,” she said, her hand still resting on his arm, “and sure to earn the animosity of the Fitzalans, as well as the princess. You’ve already a dispute with your eldest son. Why do something that would also estrange your daughter?”