Once In a Blue Moon (36 page)

He took down a large volume from the bookshelves, opened it, and blew dust all over the Princess. She coughed and sneezed loudly.

“Nasty cold you’ve got there,” Richard observed brightly.

Catherine brushed dusty tears from her eyes. “Let me at him! I’ll brain him!”

Gertrude grabbed her firmly by the arm. “Well-bred young ladies do not brain people!”

“All right,” said Catherine. “You do it.”

Gertrude let that one pass. She carefully released Catherine’s arm, waited a moment to be sure nothing violent or diplomatically unforgivable would occur, and then glared at Richard. “Listen, fellow! I am Lady-in-Waiting to the Princess Catherine.”

“Really?” said Richard. “What are you waiting for? Though I think I could probably guess. Left it a bit late, haven’t you?”

“Look here!” said Gertrude.

“Where?” said Richard, peering about him excitedly.

Lady Gertrude hung on to her self-control with an heroic effort, turned her back on the disguised Prince, and glared at Sir Jasper.

“You talk to him, sir ghost! Give him the full force of your personality. He deserves it.”

Sir Jasper ambled forward, happy to be of service, and he and the Prince studied each other with great interest.

“And . . . who or what might you be?” said Richard.

“I’m Sir Jasper. I’m a ghost.”

“Been one long?” said Richard.

“Who knows?” said Sir Jasper.

“I thought ghosts only came out at night,” said Richard, with the air of one laying down a winning card.

“I never did have much sense of time,” said Sir Jasper. “I’m always late.”

“Late?”

“Of course. I’m the late Sir Jasper.”

“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” said Richard. “Age?”

“Uncertain.”

“Occupation?”

“Unearthly.”

“I think I lost that one on points,” said Richard.

“Anything else you want to ask me?” said Sir Jasper.

“Is it worth it?”

“Not really.”

“Then I think I’d like to speak to the Princess again, please,” said Richard. “If only because your entire existence makes my head ache.”

“Just doing my job,” said Sir Jasper.

Catherine came reluctantly forward again, to take Sir Jasper’s place. The script Richard had worked out in his head, full of fine insults and put-downs, had clearly gone right out the window, but as he couldn’t see any way of retreating with honour, he carried on.

“I’ll have to have your particulars, Princess,” he said.

“If you like,” Catherine said sweetly. “But I doubt they’ll fit you.”

And for a moment they actually smiled at each other.

And that was when the Seneschal came bustling in, apologising profusely for keeping the Princess and her party waiting, and declaring that her personal chambers were quite definitely ready and waiting for her, if she would just care to follow him. And all the way through this, the Seneschal kept shooting brief glances at the disguised Prince. He clearly considered saying something, and then decided against it, on the grounds that whatever question he asked, the answer was unlikely to be anything he wanted to hear. He stopped speaking before he descended into babbling, and bowed formally to Princess Catherine and Lady Gertrude.

“Welcome to the Forest Kingdom. I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay with us.”

“Don’t put money on it,” said Catherine.

She started out the open door, and the Seneschal and Lady Gertrude had to sprint after her to keep up. Sir Jasper ambled off after them, then stopped at the door and glanced back, just in time to see Prince Richard peel off his false beard and scratch at his itchy chin.

“Now that is a good trick!” said Sir Jasper. “I used to be able to take my whole head off . . .”

“Sir Jasper!”
said a strident Princessy voice from outside. The ghost shrugged at the Prince and walked through the door, which had swung shut while he was talking. Prince Richard considered the closed door.

“Well, that didn’t go as intended, in any number of ways. So that’s Catherine . . . beautiful, intelligent, doesn’t take any nonsense from anyone. Not at all what I was expecting. It’s not often I find someone who can keep up with me. I . . . don’t dislike her. Still not going to marry her, though. Just on general principles. I did like her ghost; it seems some of the old stories about Castle Midnight are true after all.” He grinned suddenly. “She must have made an impression on me. She’s got me talking to myself.”

•   •   •

T
he Seneschal hadn’t led his distinguished guests far into the Castle before the First Minister and the Leader of the Loyal Opposition turned up, hurrying forward to greet their Royal guest with many bowed heads and formal smiles. Word had reached them of raised voices, and even a threat to leave, and they were both ready to say or do, or at the very least promise to do, whatever it took to persuade the Princess to stay. The Seneschal introduced Peregrine de Woodville and Henry Wallace to Catherine and Gertrude, but his nerve failed him when it came to Sir Jasper, so he introduced them to Catherine twice. The politicians were so intent on making a good impression on the Princess that they completely overlooked the ghost.

“Yes, I did consider leaving,” Catherine said flatly, speaking right over the First Minister’s flowery words. “Given the way I was treated by that . . . awful servant. But I have been persuaded that it is my duty to stay. Do not give me cause to reconsider. Because I feel it is also my duty to make it very clear that not even the whole Forest Army could stop me if I should decide to return home!”

“Of course, of course,” said Peregrine, smiling till his cheeks ached, and quietly contemplating the quickest way of sneaking a powerful sedative into her food. “I assure you, the servant in question will be found and disciplined, and every effort will be made to make you welcome and comfortable in Forest Castle. And look, here comes Prince Richard himself, to bid you welcome. At last . . .”

It was a sign of how thrown the First Minister was that he actually saw Prince Richard’s arrival as a good thing. Henry Wallace readied himself to jump in and if need be talk right over the Prince if he said anything unsuitable. But Richard was now dressed in his best formal attire (having used a side route to get ahead of them), and he smiled graciously as he addressed Catherine and her party. He was warm and courteous and polite, every inch the welcoming host. He bowed low to Catherine and Gertrude, and nodded cheerfully to Sir Jasper.

Catherine’s scowl slowly smoothed out, as she got her first look at her intended. Richard was tall and handsome, gracious and stately, and seemed to know how to address a Princess properly. Which was . . . something. It never even occurred to Catherine to associate the polite Prince with the very rude servant. Why should it? Princes disguised themselves as the lower orders only in bad romantic novels.

Lady Gertrude wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t want to make a fuss and cause a scene, just when everything was seemingly going so well. So she held her peace and went along. And everyone else was just relieved that Richard and Catherine were actually talking to each other instead of throwing things. Sir Jasper recognised Richard immediately, and smiled and waved cheerfully at him. Richard pretended not to notice. Peregrine and Henry had only just realised there was a third person in the Redhart party, and considered Sir Jasper with growing alarm. Finally Peregrine put his hand up, like a child in a classroom, to get the Princess’ attention.

“Excuse me, Princess Catherine, but . . .”

“Yes, he’s a ghost,” said Catherine. “And he’s with me. Want to make something of it?”

“Oh no, no, your highness,” said Peregrine. “I suppose every country has its own customs . . .”

“Even if no one thought to mention them to us,” murmured Henry.

“Oh, I’m not from Redhart!” said Sir Jasper. “I’m bred and dead in the Forest Land, man and ghost. In fact, I’m almost sure I was a knight of the realm. And I have been to this Castle before . . . Yes. Very definitely. So much looks familiar . . .”

Peregrine looked at Catherine. “He’s not thinking of moving in, is he?”

“He’s with me,” said Catherine. “Until I say otherwise.”

What could have been a very awkward moment was fortunately defused by the arrival of the Sombre Warrior. He’d changed out of his armour and replaced the steel helm with the famous chalk white porcelain mask. He bowed formally, if stiffly, to Peregrine and Henry, and a little more deeply to Prince Richard.

“The ghost is part of our official retinue,” he said. “Didn’t you get the note?”

Peregrine and Henry gave up, and nodded formally to Sir Jasper, who didn’t even notice because he’d got bored with the whole proceeding and was concentrating on turning his glow up and down. Richard offered Catherine his arm.

“May I have the honour of escorting your highness to her prepared chambers?”

And Catherine surprised everyone, including herself, by slipping her arm through his and allowing him to lead her away. The Seneschal and Lady Gertrude followed after the two young people with silent sighs of relief, and even exchanged an understanding glance as they followed their charges up the main stairway. It’s never easy guiding young Royals, especially when the Royals know they don’t have to be guided if they don’t want to be. The Seneschal moved in beside Gertrude and murmured in her ear.

“She’s going to be trouble, isn’t she?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” said Gertrude.

Sir Jasper and the Sombre Warrior brought up the rear, maintaining a respectful distance from the Royals and each other. Peregrine and Henry watched them all go.

“Did you see that?” said Henry. “The Prince was nice to her! Nice! What the hell is he doing?”

“I think he’s trying to confuse us to death,” said Peregrine bitterly.

•   •   •

C
atherine’s iron will softened even further as she took in the extended suite of rooms King Rufus had provided for her and Gertrude. The Seneschal bustled from room to room, showing them where everything was, and pointing out items of special interest, with all the enthusiasm of a hotel porter anticipating a really generous tip. Richard stayed leaning in the main doorway, watching it all with a quiet smile, saying nothing. Every single room was unusually large and luxurious, by Redhart standards, though Catherine was careful not to appear too impressed with anything. The fittings and furnishings were still decidedly old-fashioned, as far as she was concerned. Great chunky wardrobes and chests of drawers, with solid, heavy brass, and none of the delicate style Catherine was used to. Castle Midnight might be old, even ancient, but King William prided himself on keeping up with all the latest styles and fashions.

Gertrude was wild with enthusiasm over absolutely everything, and didn’t care who knew it. She oohed and aahed at the size and comfort and sheer opulence of it all, and fluttered from room to room with squeals of joy and much waving of the hands, exclaiming loudly at every new item that caught her eye. She loved the heavy antique pieces of furniture, any one of which would have sold for a king’s ransom in Redhart (because King William tended to throw everything out long before it had a chance to become antique). She ran her hands caressingly over the dark lacquered surfaces, and got seriously sensual with some gold fittings.

“Never mind where the carpets came from,” Catherine said loudly, breaking across the Seneschal’s latest speech. “Does this suite have proper plumbing?”

The Seneschal blushed, just a little, and showed her the very large bathroom, complete with its own hot water boiler and flush toilet. Richard grinned from the doorway.

“Imported all the way from the Southern Kingdoms. We may not be as . . . fashion conscious as Redhart, but we do like to keep up. Were you perhaps afraid you’d have to empty a chamber pot out of a window?”

It was Lady Gertrude’s turn to go red in the face. Catherine just laughed.

“You don’t have gas lighting, though, do you?”

“We prefer light sources that aren’t likely to run out suddenly,” said Richard. He shared a quick grin with Catherine. He was genuinely surprised at how well they were getting on. He really wasn’t used to people he could talk to as an equal. And then he realised Sir Jasper was standing very still in the middle of the room, his bare feet hovering just above the heavy carpeting, his brow creased in thought.

“Is everything all right, sir ghost?” said Richard politely.

“I don’t know this room, this suite,” Sir Jasper said slowly. “Nothing here is familiar. I had hoped seeing the inside of the Castle might help restore my lost memories, but . . .”

“It’s a big Castle,” said Richard tactfully. “Lots and lots of rooms. Even if you’d been here many times before, you wouldn’t have seen all of them.”

“Yes . . . ,” said the ghost. “I think I might go for a little walk, a little wander around, if that’s all right . . .”

To everyone’s surprise, the usually diffident ghost didn’t wait for anyone’s permission. He just walked through the nearest wall and was gone. Everyone relaxed just a little. Sir Jasper meant well, but he still wasn’t an easy presence to have around.

“You might be used to ghosts as Castle Midnight,” said Richard, “but I would have to say, he does take a lot of getting used to.”

Catherine and Gertrude exchanged a glance but said nothing.

“Well,” said Richard, “I think I’ll leave you to get settled in. The Seneschal’s people are bringing up your luggage. And of course you won’t need to keep the Sombre Warrior outside your door; our guards are your guards now. We’ll find the Warrior a room of his own. Just down the corridor. There is to be a Welcoming Banquet later this evening. In your honour. The Seneschal will see that you get plenty of warning.”

“Thank you,” said Catherine. “You may leave now.”

Richard smiled easily. “See you there, Princess.” And he left. The Seneschal bowed and bobbed quickly, and hurried after the Prince, closing the door very firmly behind him.

“Well!” said Lady Gertrude, as soon as they were alone. She managed to put quite a lot of meaning into that one word, and threw in a raised eyebrow at no extra charge.