Chapter Twenty-Two
Roberta wished she didn’t have to attend this formal dinner at Matilda’s.
Her visit to Estelle had not gone well. Her friend had been so upset, now that everyone had heard about her and Karl.
The Longhurst family were in seclusion. They planned to travel to their house in the country and remain there until the gossip had died down—if it ever did.
Not knowing when she would see her friend again made Roberta’s heart ache.
She couldn’t help but feel this was her fault.
If only she had not invited Estelle to the theater and placed her before Karl like a delicious treat.
And now she had to put on a brave face and pretend she was happily engaged to a man she didn’t want to face until she had sorted out her treacherous emotions. Could you love someone and loathe them at the same time? It seemed that you could.
She followed the servant into the countess’s Berkeley Square house, hardly noticing where she was going. Antonia nudged her shoulder. “You weren’t to know,” she said. “It is awful for Estelle, and Karl is a heartless cad to do what he did, but none of it is your fault, Robbie.”
It was nice to have a sister tell you what you wanted to hear, even if you didn’t quite believe it.
The dining room table was luminous with polished silver and crockery, while candelabra burned brightly, but the first thing Roberta saw was the table decoration. It was a peacock, no doubt long dead, standing upright with its colorful tail fanned out.
“I suppose the king always expects peacocks on the table when he comes to dinner,” Antonia whispered to her mischievously.
Her sister had been granted permission to attend, Gabriel and Vivienne still being at Grantham.
And, of course, Freddie was there, keeping a watchful eye.
At one point, she had considered bringing Estelle, but that was no longer a possibility.
Anyway, Antonia was probably a wiser choice.
Estelle—before her fall from grace—would have been incandescent with excitement, while Antonia was levelheaded enough to be able to tamp down those emotions.
She was also empathic when it came to Roberta’s feelings and said all the right things to make her feel better.
Niki had already greeted them, stern-faced, with his smile not quite reaching his eyes, and Roberta knew their argument was still fresh in his mind.
It was certainly fresh in hers, and she told herself she would never be able to forgive him for disappointing her.
And for making her fall in love with him.
That last was probably unreasonable, but right now, she didn’t care.
It was as if she had gone back to the silly girl she had been three years ago, infatuated with a man who was as likely to marry her as fly to the moon.
To make matters worse, Karl was also present.
If he had been any closer, she might not have been able to keep her anger to herself, but thankfully, he was seated further down the table.
Ernest had been given the seat next to Antonia, who was beside Roberta, and they both brightened at the prospect of listening to his amusing conversation.
Matilda’s twin daughters were not present, but her son, Tomas, was seated opposite Roberta, and he looked as if he wished himself a million miles away.
The king arrived amid a flurry of activity, and Matilda curtsied deeply and welcomed him to her home. He was a large man, and would have been handsome once, but now his bulk was confined by corsets and when his greedy eyes lit upon the table, he was quick to be seated.
Roberta was far enough away that she did not have to interact with him, but Niki did, listening to the monarch’s comments with a serious smile, and then responding with polite nods.
He was good at this, but of course he had been trained from an early age.
And trained to put his country before all else.
Which brought her back to her friend’s dire straits, and her own furious resentment.
She shouldn’t have been surprised Niki had chosen to divert the scandal when it came to Holtswig rather than to champion Estelle.
As Roberta watched Niki and the king, she was struggling to hold on to that resentment.
She didn’t want to be fair-minded, but she could see both sides of the argument, and it did not seem right to blame Niki for what Karl had done, or want him to make some grand gesture just to please her.
“Off with his head!” seemed a little extreme, however nice it would have been to see Karl properly punished.
Then again, maybe Niki was right, and he had been.
He hadn’t appeared pleased with his bride-to-be, Lady Henrietta von Blasberg, who, Roberta gathered, was older than him and not to his taste.
He would be forced to settle down and play a serious role, and maybe that was punishment enough.
And now that she gave it some thought, what if Karl had been forced by Niki to marry her friend?
Poor Estelle! Karl was a known rake, and Estelle would never be able to trust him.
She certainly could not love him, not after what had happened.
How could there be any joy in their union?
Their wedding would have been like a wake.
As much as Roberta did not want to admit it, she was beginning to accept that by removing Karl, Niki had done the right thing after all.
Estelle might not agree with that right now, not when she was the subject of such painful gossip and banished to the country, but in time, she would.
Now that she had had some time to mull over the situation, Roberta was finding it difficult to hold on to her own anger.
She caught Niki glancing at her several times, as if he was trying to judge her mood.
She had also noticed the old man, Chamberlain Francis, observing her.
Roberta already knew the chamberlain was not a supporter of her and Niki’s engagement.
Perhaps he would use their falling out as a reason to persuade Niki to put an end to it earlier than intended?
Indeed, this would be the perfect catalyst for their planned breakup.
The scandal around Roberta’s friend, the raised eyebrows as the Ashtons’ misdemeanors were once more laid before the public.
Niki could cut ties with her and move on to a more suitable bride.
And yet the very idea of being cast aside on grounds that were not her fault was infuriating.
Roberta had done her best, had gone above and beyond what was asked of her.
All that kissing, for instance. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed it, because she had.
The memories squeezed her heart hard enough to make it ache.
“Your wedding!”
Suddenly, the king roared out the words, startling the guests.
He had been imbibing the countess’s red wine at a great rate, and his face was very flushed.
He waved his glass around the table. “Niki, where is your intended? Isn’t she here?
You haven’t had a to-do, have you?” He leaned in close to the prince.
“My advice is to always agree with your beloved, even if you don’t! ”
Niki laughed uneasily. “No, not at all, Your Majesty. She is there. See, there beside her sister and my brother.”
The king narrowed his eyes in Roberta’s direction but shook his head. “My eyesight is not what it was, I am afraid. She will have to come to me.”
“Oh God,” Roberta murmured.
“Go on,” Antonia murmured back. “Just go over there and curtsy and giggle as if you are overwhelmed by his presence, and then it will be over.”
“I am overwhelmed,” Roberta said, but she did as she was told, curtsying low and trying not to let her knees shake. The king took her hand and raised her up. He was still seated at the table and looked as if he would be happy to stay all night.
His gaze slid over her in a knowledgeable way. “Good heavens, she is a pretty one, Niki! Well done.”
Niki half rose to his feet as if he wanted to snatch her out of the king’s clutches, only to remember himself and sit back down. He forced a smile that was more of a grimace. “Thank you, sir.”
“Lady Roberta is an Ashton, Your Highness.” Chamberlain Francis peeped around the bulk of the monarch and met Niki’s eyes with a warning in his own. “They are a long-established English family.”
“Indeed!” The king frowned in displeasure, and Roberta remembered that his family had only been on the throne a little over a hundred years.
The Ashtons went back at least five times that long, or maybe it was ten.
“You have done well, Niki. I have been thinking about your wedding. Nothing too grand,” he added with an irritable twitch that made Roberta wonder if his advisers had been reminding him of the cost. “When is the date set for again?”
Niki met her eyes, and she almost smiled at his mute plea for help, but she was not ready to come to his aid.
“We have not set a date, Your Majesty,” she replied sweetly. “Prince Nikolai has been busy with other matters.”
The king looked perplexed until one of the gentlemen attendants standing behind his chair leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Of course!” he shouted. “That was an awful business, Niki! I believe you caught the rotter. I would hate for it to spoil the happy day.”
He beamed about him before he took another gulp of his wine, and thankfully, Freddie stepped in to change the subject to horse racing.
Now his attention was elsewhere, Roberta backed away, relieved her moment in the royal sun was over, and returned to her place.
Antonia greeted her with, “Well done, Robbie. You handled that so well I think you would make a very good princess.”
Roberta rolled her eyes. “I would make a terrible princess. Just as well I will never be one, and this whole thing is a sham.”