Page 62 of Whiskers and Wiles

The opening sessionof Joint Parliament was always well-attended. Though the event was nominally nothing more than the reading of a list of issues and questions that would be discussed and debated by ministers from all of the kingdoms of the New Heptarchy for the upcoming session and otherwise very boring indeed, in actuality, it had become something of a statement of which matters were of key importance to the shaping of Britannia. If a particular topic or issue was not mentioned in the First Minister’s opening remarks, that was as much of a declaration that the issue was unimportant as could be had.

“There’s no way to know if we’ve succeeded, really,” Kat explained to her friends as they stood in the public gallery of the vast, medieval building along the River Thames in Westminster. “The few days we spent at Oxwick Park were so filled with madness and frivolity that neither Waldorf nor I were able to address the Mercian Plan with Lord and Lady Walsingham at all.”

“Not one bit?” Bernadette asked, wringing her hands in front of her. The action drew attention to her ever-rounder belly,which some stuffy lady of thetonwas bound to make a comment about soon, if they hadn’t already.

At least, they would have had reason to comment about Bernadette’s condition if the much greater topic of conversation of Muriel’s advanced pregnancy did not captivate them instead.

“What, precisely, were you and Waldorf doing at Oxwick Park?” Muriel asked, resting her hands on her pregnant stomach, despite the way several women were glancing her way and whispering furiously. Muriel ignored them, arching an eyebrow at Kat instead and saying, “Lady Walsingham has a reputation for fancying herself an expert on facilitating happy marriages, and I know you of all people could not?—”

“Waldorf and I are engaged,” Kat jumped in to cut her friend off, thrilled to announce the news.

“No!” Minerva gasped, her eyes going wide. She glanced to the basket looped over Kat’s arm, to Napoleon as he watched the goings on of the opening session of Joint Parliament through the top of his basket. “Is this true?” Minerva asked.

Kat laughed. It was so far beyond her usual, sober and sharp personality, but she could not help it. For good or ill, Lady Walsingham’s methods had actually had a strong effect on her and Waldorf. Not only had the permissive environment of Oxwick Park allowed them to fall into bed together and remember how much they appreciated each other that way, the seclusion they were afforded after the incident at the lake gave them ample opportunity to talk.

They’d revisited the painful memories of the past as well as the beautiful ones. They’d expressed their fears and disappointments, in themselves and each other. They’d talked about possibilities and hopes for the future. Kat rather liked Waldorf’s idea that the two of them might create some sort of investigative outfit to search into private problems that members of the public might have and to assist them inresolving them. They were both certain beyond any doubt that their careers as spies, for Queen Matilda or anyone else, were over.

When the issue of whether they should reveal the truth to Lord and Lady Walsingham, that they were not, in fact, engaged or together in any way, both Kat and Waldorf had hesitated. They’d been sitting on Waldorf’s bed, face to face, arms and legs wrapped around each other as they talked things through. Waldorf had raised the suggestion that they could continue to pretend they were together. Kat put forth that they could continue to pretend for the rest of their lives. When Waldorf added, “Of course, we do not need to pretend anymore,” the matter had been decided directly. They would pick up where they had left off twenty years before and be wed as soon as was convenient.

“You?” Muriel asked, blinking at Kat in astonishment. “Lady Katherine Balmor? You are engaged?”

“To a man?” Minerva added, feigning shock, though her eyes glittered with joy for Kat. “To Lord Waldorf?”

Kat laughed again. It was a habit she really must break, and soon. “A great deal happened between Waldorf and I in the last fortnight,” she admitted. “Circumstances beyond our control forced us to discuss matters we had buried long ago. Because of that, so many misunderstandings and past hurts were resolved, and much to both of our surprise, we discovered that the flame of our love had not died, it had merely been stifled.”

Kat’s friends gaped at her, but Kat herself jumped when Waldorf appeared by her side, having approached stealthily when she was not paying him any mind, took her free hand, and said, “It most certainly was not.”

As Kat let out a breath and gathered wits about her again, Waldorf raised her gloved hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, all while ardently gazing into her eyes. Kat felt not onlythe delicious stir of desire in her core, her heart fluttered, as light as a butterfly.

As soon as Waldorf left off from his lingering kiss, he glanced to Napoleon, who still eyed him with suspicion, despite all that had happened, and said, “I do beg your pardon, sir. I know you have the prior claim.”

“Will wonders never cease,” Lord Cedric said in awe, moving to stand by Muriel’s side and slipping a hand to the small of her back, as if to support her.

“Not where Waldorf is concerned, no,” Lord Alden laughed, looping an arm around Bernadette in a far more scandalously casual manner.

Lord Lawrence and Lord Dunstan had approached their small group as well, and after a short round of hellos and greetings, Lord Lawrence said, “We were all so startled, but so pleased, mind you, when Waldorf showed up at Godwin House yesterday and announced to us all that he and Lady Katherine were to be wed as soon as a special license could be obtained.”

“I warned him against it,” Lord Cedric said with a cheeky wink for his brother.

“Perhaps every man should be warned before entering into marriage,” Lord Dunstan murmured quietly.

Kat was not certain the man meant anyone to overhear him. She felt deeply sorry for the poor man, as she understood he had been married once and it had been a misery.

“I guess the race is down to you and me, Dunstan,” Lord Lawrence said, slapping Lord Dunstan playfully on the back.

“Which race is that?” Minerva asked curiously, eyeing Lord Lawrence with a somewhat disapproving glance, likely for the effusion of cheer that he exuded. Minerva did not like cheer at all.

“Why, the race to see who is the last to wed,” Lord Lawrence said, smiling widely. “It seems as though either Dunstan or I will be the one to inherit the cursed Godwin family castle.”

“Oh yes,” Minerva said, her cheeks pinking a little. “The Curse of Godwin Castle. What a delightfully macabre thing for your family to have. I have always wished for a cursed?—”

Minerva was unable to finish. Their entire, happy group went suddenly silent as Queen Matilda and her entourage of guards and ladies in waiting approached from the gallery’s wide doorway.

Immediately, they all shifted back into something of a line and either curtsied or bowed. Whether Matilda was their queen or not, monarchs deserved to be bowed to.

Kat was a bit alarmed, however, when the queen redirected her steps to approach her and Waldorf specifically rather than continuing on to the Monarch’s Gallery at the far end of the room. Alarm was perhaps too gentle a word for Kat’s feelings. She had failed her queen once, and if Lord Walsingham made no mention of the Mercian Plan as he opened Joint Parliament in a matter of minutes, she would have failed her once more.

“Lady Katherine,” the queen acknowledged Kat with the barest tip of her head. “Lord Waldorf.”

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