Chapter Twelve #2
Roberta smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here. I feel rather intimidated.”
“You?” Estelle retorted, too loudly. There were some shushes and glares from the surrounding audience, and Estelle dropped her voice. “What were you looking at down there?” She nodded at the auditorium.
“I thought I saw Mr. Walter,” Roberta admitted in a whisper.
“Your admirer?” Estelle chuckled softly. “I suppose he is jealous now that you are to marry a prince. How can he compete? Poor Mr. Walter.”
“I don’t think he is poor at all.”
Niki waited until the performance reached a louder moment before he turned to her, and it was only then she realized he had overheard some of their conversation.
She could smell his pomade—the scent of oranges—and see the glow of his jacket buttons.
“There is absolutely no need to feel intimidated,” he assured her, and when she met his gaze, his expression was serious and concerned.
“You are my fiancée, and that trumps all else. You should not care what anyone here thinks. I certainly don’t. ”
That made her laugh delightedly, covering her mouth so it was little more than a huff of breath. “Not that you are arrogant or anything.”
“I am His Highness Prince Nikolai Lichtenberg of Holtswig,” he reminded her without a hint of irony. “I have every right to be arrogant.”
She knew that was the way he had been brought up, and it was part of him just like the color of his eyes.
And yet there was more to him, if one delved beneath the outer shell.
They had both suffered at their parents’ hands, and although Roberta had grown up an independent and confident young woman—at least some of the time—Niki hid his private thoughts beneath that pompous exterior.
Estelle leaned over Roberta at that moment and said, “Robbie thinks she saw Mr. Walter down there.”
“Estelle!” Roberta hissed. “I’m sure Niki doesn’t know what you are talking about.”
But Niki was frowning. “I do remember him. You should not bother your head about the fellow. Not when you are with me.”
Roberta wasn’t sure what to make of that. She ignored Estelle’s grin, and no more was said.
The play was amusing in parts. It was a recounting of the adventures of two gentlemen on a night out in London, and sprinkled with well-known London characters, rich and poor, and inside jokes.
The play had been well received by the Duke of Wellington and other luminaries.
Roberta found herself laughing along with everyone else, but she was finding it difficult to concentrate, with Estelle and Karl whispering on one side and Niki silent on the other.
She glanced at him several times, admiring his profile against the faint lighting from the box beside them.
It appeared to be empty apart from an elderly couple, one of whom was asleep and could be heard snoring during the quieter moments.
The first act finished, and a servant arrived to offer a selection of refreshments so that they need not leave their seats—or mingle with the common folk, according to Karl.
The countess preferred to stretch her legs and set off accompanied by the relative of her husband.
Roberta noticed Freddie glance after her, and there was something wistful in his expression that struck her as interesting.
Was there romance in the air? She would have to tell Gabriel, although she was sure he would remind her it was none of her business.
Her brother and his friend Charles were both married and settled, but thus far, Freddie had never shown any desire to follow their lead.
Niki had gone to speak to Freddie, the two of them with their heads close, before chatting with the two old men from Holtswig, but Roberta stayed beside Estelle.
Her friend was taking a long time choosing between the apricot- or orange-flavored sorbet, much to Karl’s amusement as he sipped his wine.
Their voices were a little loud, and Roberta could see that Estelle was excited by the company she was in and particularly the man at her side.
When Matilda returned to the box, she frowned at them and then beckoned Karl over.
Roberta could not hear what was said, but she suspected his aunt was warning him to behave himself.
It didn’t have any effect, because when Karl returned to sit by Estelle, he was not looking the least bit repentant.
Roberta hoped this did not mean Estelle would be banished from accompanying her at more of these entertainments.
She had few friends among the Holtswig crowd, and tonight, it had been nice to have someone at her side who was hers.
Although she enjoyed being with Ernest, Karl was always friendly, and even Matilda had been kind to her, one of the elderly counsellors was staring at her as if he wished she would vanish in a puff of smoke.
Not for the first time, it occurred to her to wonder if there was a particular someone in Holtswig who Niki was expected to marry.
A more suitable choice. Someone who was waiting patiently for his return so that they could resume their interrupted lives.
Was Roberta just a bump in the road, soon to be forgotten?
It was a miserable thought, and it didn’t help when she overheard voices to the side of her, in the adjacent box, where the elderly couple were awake and eating pastries and guzzling claret.
“Who on earth does the chit think she is? He will cast her off within a year, mark my words. The Ashtons think themselves above the rest of us. I blame the grandmother for that.”
The gentleman replied with a grunt.
“She was no better than she should be,” the voice went on. “And as for the current duke, did you know—”
The voice dropped, and she couldn’t hear any more, and nor did she want to.
Such cruel and unfair words. She felt her face warm with righteous indignation.
The Ashtons were as good as anyone else, and just because her family had been involved in a scandal or two—or several, to be honest—it did not mean she would not make a worthy princess of Holtswig.
“They’re just jealous.” Estelle had heard them too. She reached out and squeezed Roberta’s tightly gripped hands. “Ignore them, Robbie. Marry the prince and be happy. That is the way to punish such spite.”
Roberta remembered then that her friend had also been the subject of a great deal of gossip, her family residing on the edge of respectability.
But she was right! Why should Roberta wish to please the awful gossips next door?
Life would be terribly boring if she did that.
She wanted to live a life that was interesting and exciting, and more than that, she wanted to be herself and not be kept within the narrow confines of those who did not know her and yet still sought to judge her.
The second act of the play was just about to begin as Niki returned, and the lights were once again dimming.
“I told Hart that your unwelcome admirer is in the theater,” he whispered close to her ear, making her shiver.
“One can’t be too careful,” he added cryptically.
Before Roberta could respond, the curtain rose on a new scene—London at night—and the actors began to speak.
Suddenly, there was a soft cry and what sounded like a scuffle from the adjacent box where the snoring man and gossiping woman were seated.
Roberta turned her head and realized that someone was standing there, a shadow against the muted light.
For one shocking moment, she thought it was Mr. Walter, and her heart gave a painful thud.
The man was of a similar build, tall and slim, and he must have moved because now he was right beside them, almost leaning over the balcony of his box to get closer to theirs.
She may have spoken, said his name, because Niki turned too and gave a shout. Roberta saw that the man had raised his hand, and she thought he was pointing with some object, and then everything became perfectly clear, and she recognized the object he was holding as a pistol.
More voices were raised in a muddle of sound.
The figure’s attention was fixed on Niki, who cried out, “Who is that?” Behind her, she heard Freddie shout and the crash of his approach over the backs of the seats, causing more screams. Would he reach them in time?
She didn’t think so. Somewhere in her muddled brain it became clear to her that this was her fault, and there was only one thing she could do.
Roberta flung herself against Niki just as he began to rise, shielding him with her body.
He made a surprised whoof of breath and tried to throw her off, but it was too late. The shot was fired. So loud it was deafening in the confined space.
Now the entire audience was up and shouting and screaming, but the sound of her own heart beating in her ears was louder.
Freddie’s voice rang out. “Take him!” Afterward, she couldn’t remember much of what happened next, except that she had expected to die.
And when Niki set her firmly back in her seat, she was very surprised to find she was alive.