Chapter 12
“Our patience will achieve more than our force.”
—Edmund Burke
Charity gazed up at the glittering crystals on the chandelier, releasing the worries that had been building.
Thorne was gaining confidence and grace as they practiced.
And as Selina halted things to make another explanation, Perry wrapped an arm around her waist, spinning her around until she was dizzy and laughing.
“Am I to be chained to this instrument until dawn?” Ravenscroft finally complained. He made a show of stretching his hands. “If you intend to keep me slaving away for your pleasure, at least be a saint and fetch me a glass of claret.”
Charity stifled a laugh, and everyone took a moment. “I am sure we can allow you a respite. Both you and Selina, since she has been teaching.”
“I talked myself dry, but talking isn’t required if I am playing. How about a waltz?” the marchioness asked, walking over to the pianoforte and striking a chord.
Lord Ravenscroft set his drink aside and dipped into a deep, sarcastic bow in front of Thorne. “Will you do me the honour of this dance, Sir Nathaniel?”
“Er,” Thorne said, looking down at the magpie.
“Don’t, Nathaniel,” Perry warned him. “Ravenscroft will try to lead just for the spectacle since you have a full head of height on him. Hardly an ideal way to learn.”
Ravenscroft pouted, and then he pulled Charity away from Peregrine’s side. “You are ruining my fun, Canary, so I will ruin yours and claim this one for a dance.”
Peregrine glanced at Thorne, arching his eyebrow in a challenge. Thorne lifted his hands in a silent gesture for mercy, chuckling. That was all Charity had a chance to see before Ravenscroft swept her into a tight, anti-clockwise spin around the room.
“You and the falcon suit one another. I know it is not what I said to you early on, but I am happy to be incorrect, for your sake,” the magpie admitted softly.
“This path is hard—to love where others say it is wrong—but I daresay this group of ours understands a thing or two about adversity. Weather the challenges with grace, and have no regrets, Charity. You have all of us to lean on.”
“Thank you. I am glad you have Antoine in your life, even if you must be together secretly. You deserve that.”
Ravenscroft smirked, seriousness gone.”And what have I done to you, darling, that I deserve a Frenchman's curse?”
“He… well, you are not a humble man. But at least he keeps you in line.” Charity managed to primly arch her eyebrow for only a second before her expression cracked too. “Mostly.”
“Ugh. Duchess, the canary is starting to rub off on you. I take back everything I have said in his favour. This development is intolerable.”
“My turn,” Peregrine informed the dandy as he swept in and caught Charity between forms. “Go away, Maggie. She’s mine.”
Ravenscroft pretended to huff indignantly, but he winked at Charity. Perry pulled her closer, until she was brushing against him at times. It made her feel daring, and yet safe.
“Thank you,” she whispered loud enough for his ears alone. “For showing me today that I will never be entirely without family.”
Peregrine gave her a smile, but there was a trace of pain in it. Charity closed her eyes with a wince. “I am sorry. That was callous of me, to remind you of your mother and Lark.”
“You have nothing to apologise for, Sparkles. I have only been hoping Lark is all right.”
Guilt stole some of Charity’s happiness. Seeing his sister protected was important to him, and yet, Lark was still at the Pulteney. Charity came to a reluctant stop, reminding herself of the duty she owed to this man she loved. After a moment, Selina let the notes fade.
“I would like to pretend we have no worries, but there is news I should tell you.” Charity fidgeted briefly. “The princess did agree to marry William… however, I believe I convinced the Queen last night that this alliance would not be the best for Britain.”
Ravenscroft nearly dropped his glass, and flailed to catch it before it hit the floor. And reluctantly Charity recounted the series of events that happened at Frogmore.
“You told the Queen she made a mistake?” Selina asked with awe in her voice. “Brava, Your Grace.”
“Looking at your face, that came with a price,” Sir Nathaniel said softly.
Charity grimaced. “I was reminded that I live under her control. But I think, in the end, she knew it would be a bad match.”
“What happens now? If they break the agreement, will the Queen or Prinny attempt to negotiate a new match while the sovereigns are here?” Thorne asked.
“Likely. There are plenty of princes here vying for her attention,” the rake said sourly.
“The Grand Duchess did seem intent on introducing the princess to all of her options,” Thorne said, mouth cocked in amusement. “I have had a front row seat to more than one of those conversations.”
“That one,” Ravenscroft grumbled. “However, even the Grand Duchess’s antics have paled in comparison with those of the Tsar. I can count on one hand the number of aristocrats he spoke to yesterday at Ascot. Prinny was furious that Alexander spent the day circulating among the commoners.”
“Ah, aye, the lower orders,” said Nathaniel. His voice was light, but he was feeling prickly enough to let his northern accent deepen.
Peregrine looked contemplative. “The Tsar is a man of beliefs—something I was told just yesterday. Von Gentz passes along his regards, by the way, Sina.”
“Does he?” Selina’s eyebrows lifted. “How interesting.”
Ravenscroft looked confused. “Do you know The Propagandist?”
“By reputation. But he was present when Lady Fitzroy had my name sullied in front of a room full of high ranking nobility, however, so I am not surprised he knows who I am.”
“He was testing my loyalties at Ascot, and he is of the opinion you are one of Sidmouth’s spies,” Perry told her. “I didn’t bother to disabuse the notion. Gentz is paying close attention to all of the players on the board, my mother included. Have you spoken with Sidmouth lately?”
“Last night. I told him what happened at the Pulteney.” Selina shifted, crossing her arms. “He was quite cross, actually, and I don’t know which displeased him more—learning the Russian diplomats are openly courting potential allies on English soil, or that Lady Fitzroy is still working to discredit him. ”
“Him, and not you?” Charity searched Lady Normanby’s face for a hint of how the woman felt about being cut from society.
Selina gave a small shrug of her shoulders.
“Do not worry for me, Duchess. Krüger’s story either makes me look powerful enough to outwit Maximilian, or it makes Prussia weak and foolish.
By next season, the ton will have someone else to talk about.
What does concern me is that I have been eliminated again by Marian,” Selina added, discouraged.
“I cannot be eyes and ears if I am allowed nowhere near society.”
“You have one dubious honour,” Charity pointed out. “Lady Fitzroy seems to consider you a capable threat.”
“Far better if she thought I was no one of consequence.” Lady Normanby sighed. “There is no one who can watch what the Russians are up to.”
“My association with Prinny is too well-known,” Ravenscroft said. “What about Sir Nathaniel?”
Selina shook her head. “Nathaniel does not know enough of the players to be able to make sense of what he sees.”
“If rooks the Grand Duchess—”
Perry cut both of them off firmly, seeing Thorne’s discomfort. “No. Look elsewhere for information.”
“Countess Lieven?” Selina asked. “She will be well positioned. The Russian Orthodox Church services happen in their home. She will also likely be entertaining frequently—both as the count’s wife and in her role as Patroness now with Almack’s.”
Peregrine considered that. “I don’t think so. The Lievens warned us at Ascot that they did not wish to be involved in anything that would jeopardise their neutrality and his role in maintaining the relations between Britain and Russia.”
“They might be persuaded to share information if we can prove your mother will interfere with what they consider their duty, Perry,” Charity told him.
“Perhaps,” he admitted. “But that would only work once, in dire need. We need an informer who will keep watching.”
“What about Gentz himself? He has less of a direct view, but The Propagandist clearly keeps himself well informed,” said Ravenscroft dryly.
Selina pushed at him when Peregrine hesitated. “You should test the waters. Even if he has no particulars on your mother’s plans, he may know what Russia is offering to woo potential allies at Vienna. There is more than one concern for England.”
“A fair point,” he conceded, spreading his hands. “Let Sidmouth know we will try to befriend Gentz.”
Charity looked at Sir Nathaniel, who had frozen halfway through running his hand through his hair. “What are you thinking, Thorne?” she asked him softly.
He smiled a little ruefully, the skin crinkling around his blue eyes.
“Beyond that it’s clear that I’m not much help to you four in matters of intrigue?
I am wondering what Marian Fitzroy stands to gain.
In these secret alliances, and in thwarting the marriage to William—Russia’s benefits are clear.
But not hers. What has she set her sights on? ”
“What indeed, besides possibly marrying off her… daughter…” Charity began, but abruptly her words trailed off.
She could feel everyone staring at her, but Charity did not meet their eyes. She was too busy thinking, staring into space as the awful conversation with the Queen played again in her memory.
What will the people do if the king is incapable of restraint and the queen lacks the will to manage him?
“Now you are both gathering wool,” Peregrine said, taking her arm. “Charity, what did you think of?”
“Something that might be lunatic,” she confessed. “What if we have been thinking all the wrong things about why your mother wanted to prevent the princess from marrying Prince William?”