Page 51 of Charmless
I emitted a deep sigh which Netta echoed.
She continued, “Amy has been crying most of the day as well.”
“Over Chuffy?”
“No, she has finally realized her prince is never going to come. She sent a love note to the Prince Dashiel asking when he would keep his pledge to her. She received a very cold reply from His Highness, saying that he did not remember her.”
“Did not remember the girl he lured down to his father’s wine cellar and attempted to seduce? That is highly unlikely,” I said angrily.
“Amy described her tryst with Dashiel in far more romantic terms. But perhaps she was dazzled from being pursued by a handsome prince.”
“No, Amy did not have so many stars in her eyes as she did wine fumes in her head. That young villain had our sister quite drunk. If I had not come upon them when I did, who knows what would have happened next?”
Netta winced at my bluntness. “I am sure Amy would never have allowed him to… ” She trailed off, blushing. My youngest stepsister was so naïve, such immodest behavior was beyond her comprehension.
She continued hopefully, “If Amy was befuddled, perhaps she sent her letter to the wrong prince. Dahl and Dashiel are identical twins. Maybe it was Prince Dahl who was with Amy and he really does love her.”
I cut Netta off with a firm shake of my head. “No. Well, I mean yes, it really was Dahl who was in the cellar with Amy, but he was pretending to be his brother. I have heard the princes enjoy doing that, fooling people by switching identities. It doesn’t really matter which twin it was because they are both lying wretches. Amy will recover in time and realize she had a narrow escape. I am sure her pride has been wounded more than her heart and she will feel better the next time Mr. Bafton comes to call and brings her chocolates.”
Before Amy’s head had been turned by the prince, her favored beau had been Fortescue Bafton, the tailor’s son.
“Fortescue can be a rather foolish young man,” I went on. “But he does seem to genuinely adore our Amy.”
Netta gave me an odd look. “Don’t you remember? Fortescue was one of the Midtown citizens arrested after the brawl at the palace, along with our neighbors, the Hansons. None of them have come home since the night of the ball.”
“Of course, I remember,” I said. But I sank back into my chair, feeling guilty. I had been so caught up in my own problems that I had spared little thought for my neighbors.
I hastened to assure Netta, “Commander Crushington spoke to Mercato who agreed to take care of the matter. The only reason their pardon has been delayed is because the king has been too ill of late. I am sure as soon as His Majesty is well enough, he will be persuaded to give the order for the release of our neighbors.”
At least, I tried to sound sure for Netta’s sake. But the majordomo had implied that the king might not recover. If Florian ascended to the throne, could he be induced to show mercy to the Hanson and Bafton families? Not according to his brother. Ryland insisted Florian was a monster. The majordomo painted a far different picture of a prince who was spoiled, but unsure of himself, needing only the guidance of the right woman to help him become a good king. While I prayed that the majordomo was correct, I did not want that woman to be me.
Netta looked so relieved by my assurance, I kept my doubts to myself. My sister was such a tender-hearted girl, more concerned about the welfare of other people than her own. I reached across the table and pressed her hand.
“You are so kind to worry about Amy and your mother and the Hansons. But how are you faring, my dear?”
Netta hunched one shoulder. “Oh, I am fine.”
“Are you? Have you had any word from your handsome Sergeant Wharton?”
Netta’s eyes lit up at the mere mention of his name. “Nedishandsome, isn’t he? He has such kind, gentle eyes, something you would never expect to find in a soldier. I had the most magical time with him at the ball.”
I had to bite back a smile. Netta’s evening would have been a far cry from what most girls considered magical. While the other maidens like Amy had danced and pursued princes, Netta had spent her time in the palace gardens, with a sergeant of the guard and his ugly aura cat.
“Ned shares my love of music and quiet afternoons. He feels as shy and awkward in new situations as I do. I have never met a man so easy to talk to or one who seemed to understand me so completely.” The light in her eyes dimmed. “But I do not expect to ever see him again. His duties keep him bound to the palace and Mama would never approve of him as a suitor. But at least, I will always have the memory of one wonderful night.”
She pasted on a brave smile as she helped me clear away the remains of our miserable supper. Somehow Netta’s sad resignation affected me more deeply than all of Amy’s and my stepmother’s angst.
My spirits were quite low as I wound my way up to bed that night. After the day’s events, I should have been exhausted enough to flop down on my bed and pass out. I was tired but I could tell that sleep would not come easily. Not with my head so crowded, a veritable tournament of worries and problems battling it out inside my brain.
I attempted to clear my mind as I brushed out my hair and bathed my face. I had not bothered to heat the water for my basin, but the cool water felt soothing. It was going to be a very warm night. My bedchamber already felt stifling. After I donned my nightgown, I moved to open my window, only to freeze, Ryland’s warning about his brother coming back to me.
“When the princess persisted in her refusals, Florian climbed into her bedchamber one night. When Ermengarde awoke to find him groping her, she screamed for the guards.”
Open my window? I should be nailing it shut. I started to back away only to rebel at spending the night, tossing, and sweating in a stuffy, airless bedchamber. I had no reason to believe anything Ryland said. For all I knew, he had made up the entire story out of jealousy of his brother.
But what if he hadn’t?
When I flung up my sash, I was horrified to realize there was someone lurking in the bushes below. Lit by moonlight, I could just make out a dark cloaked figure starting to scale the vine-covered walls.
