Chapter Twenty-Three
Roberta’s mouth was open. She closed it and looked at Antonia, who appeared equally astonished. “A week on Saturday? You never said—”
“I didn’t know!” Roberta whispered furiously.
The king looked as flabbergasted as the rest of them. “What do you mean Saturday?” he demanded, waving his glass and sloshing its contents about him. “I thought you were having a proper wedding, and this sounds like a hole-in-the-wall affair. Explain what you mean, Niki!”
Niki had gone pale. His eyes slid to Roberta’s and away again. He looked like a trapped man, but there was something else in his expression. Determination.
“I mean a week from this Saturday, Your Majesty. As you know, I will have to return to Holtswig by the end of the month, and Lady Roberta wanted to be married with her family present. At—at her family home. We will, of course, have another service in Holtswig, but it seemed sensible and practical to tie the knot here first.”
The king stared at him in silence, as though his brain was struggling to make sense of the words, and everyone held their breath and waited.
Would he rage at Niki? Would he stomp out of the room, of the house?
He did neither. He gave a roar of laughter.
“You dog!” he shouted. “You have brought the date forward because you have anticipated your vows. That’s it, isn’t it?
You and your brother are quite the pair, aren’t you?
” He winked at Karl. “Well, let it not be said I stood in the way. I am very happy for you. Am I invited?”
Niki bowed low. For a moment Roberta thought he was going to fall over, but when he straightened, some of the color had returned to his face. “You are indeed invited, Your Majesty. And I thank you for your understanding of the situation.”
The king snorted and knocked his shoulder in a companionable way. “My pleasure. Or yours, eh? Eh?”
Matters were rapidly deteriorating. Freddie had a worried frown, and Countess Matilda, her eyes wide and her cheeks pink, clapped her hands to bring the attention back to her.
“Your Majesty, Prince Nikolai…What truly wonderful news. Shall we drink a toast to the happy couple?” She shot a desperate look around the table.
Roberta felt as if she was being carried, helplessly, down this ridiculous road Niki had constructed. Why had he said such a thing? What on earth had possessed him?
Across the table from her, Tomas cleared his throat. “Pardon my ignorance, Cousin Niki, but are you sure there will be a wedding? I heard that your engagement was a complete sham. Sir.”
Tomas was smirking at her, the wretch, before he changed his expression to innocence and turned questioningly to where Niki was standing.
“You rotten beast,” Antonia whispered, loud enough for Tomas to hear. Ernest was frowning as if he couldn’t believe the boy could say something so meddlesome.
Niki was wearing an identical frown. “Where did you hear that?” he said sharply, glaring. “Listening to servants’ gossip? You silly boy, I won’t stoop to answer such a question.”
Tomas flushed with anger, but he did not back down. He straightened in his chair and appeared all the more determined to carry on. “I did not hear it from servants. I heard it from the lady herself.” He turned to Roberta. “Did I mishear, Lady Roberta?”
Roberta looked into the boy’s dark eyes, so much like Niki’s, and time seemed to slow.
This was her chance to escape. Tomas might be a mischief-maker, but he had given her the opportunity to speak the truth.
She cast a look about and could see that everyone was awaiting her answer.
The table was deathly silent, and even the king was giving her his full attention.
Beneath the table, Antonia’s hand clasped hers, squeezing painfully hard, giving her courage.
Roberta lifted her gaze to Niki, who still stood as if at attention, a condemned man awaiting his fate.
She tried to read the emotion in his eyes, in his expression. Uppermost seemed to be trepidation. Was he expecting her to repudiate him? Perhaps he wanted her to do so, to give him a way out of his own lie. Or was he hoping she would back him up so that he would not lose face before the king?
If this had happened before the situation with Karl and Estelle, she would have had no trouble agreeing.
Whether this was another lie or the truth, Niki needed her support.
She had thrown herself into the engagement in the main for his sake, and now he needed her help again.
But, after the mess Karl had made for Estelle, and her disappointment when Niki did not champion her friend…
And then her acknowledgement that she was in love with him…
“Lady Roberta, we are waiting,” the king informed her, sounding very imperial.
Roberta took a breath. Ernest made a sound, and her gaze flicked to him.
He was grinning and nodding his head like a crazy person.
Antonia squeezed harder. They wanted her to say yes.
And in fact, when she looked again at Niki, he was wearing a hopeful smile, as if he too wanted her to agree.
She looked to Matilda, who had clasped her hands under her chin with an expectant air, while Freddie had the sort of expression one wore while watching armies at war.
Only Karl and the chamberlain were scowling, but even that felt like a sign.
“No, Tomas, it is not true that our engagement is a sham. I don’t know what you think you heard but it is not true. That should teach you not to eavesdrop on conversations that are no business of yours. Niki and I are to be married at Grantham a week from Saturday.”
Cheers erupted, led by the king. Tomas looked furious, but quickly hid it, applauding with the others. Antonia burst out, “Oh, this is so exciting, Robbie! The most excitement I have ever had.”
Roberta thought it was the most excitement she had ever had too, and if she had been the fainting kind, then she might well have swooned.
Niki was rounding the table and striding toward her as she stepped forward to meet him.
She thought for a moment he was going to take her in his arms and kiss her on the mouth, but at the last minute he clasped her hands in his and lifted them to his lips.
“My wife-to-be,” he said, loud enough for all to hear.
Then he leaned in and kissed her chastely on the lips, before saying quietly, for only her to hear, “Thank you.”
The evening never quite regained its decorum after that.
Everyone was a little manic. There were shouts from the king and ribald jokes among the gentlemen, followed by laughter.
Roberta smiled until her cheeks ached. Antonia was almost bouncing in her seat, and Ernest certainly was.
She noticed Tomas slipped away before the final course arrived—lemon soufflé.
At last, the ladies rose and left the gentlemen to their port, and Roberta was glad to go, although not before the king insisted on making her a final toast.
Matilda caught her arm as they moved toward the drawing room, her eyes bright with excitement. “Well, what an evening! It is not one I will ever forget.”
“Nor me,” Roberta agreed. “We had intended to keep matters private.”
Matilda grimaced. “Please forgive my son, Roberta. Tomas lacks in social skills, but I am sure he meant no harm. And perhaps it is a good thing that now it is all out in the open.”
“Mmm.”
“Although I am sure you could have done without the king’s risqué comments. Be assured, no one who knows Niki well would believe him capable of such poor conduct.”
“Oh. No, no, of course not.” Was he really such a paragon of virtue? And what of her reputation? Had Matilda not thought of that?
“Tell me, are you set on having the ceremony at Grantham? Why can you not be married here in London? Such a shame if we cannot all attend,” she added, sounding disappointed.
Roberta’s head was spinning, and she wasn’t sure anymore about anything.
Was this really going ahead, or would they still declare the engagement over?
They would have to do it before the actual wedding, or did Niki mean to leave her at the altar?
Instead of answering the countess, she said she would talk to Niki.
“Of course, of course. But there is always the second wedding in Holtswig, which is the official ceremony, after all,” Matilda said, brightening.
“It is years since I have been back there, but it is tradition, you know. As Niki’s aunt and his nearest female relative—we do not count his mother—I will be taking charge of the arrangements. ”
Oh God. Did Roberta say that aloud? She bit her lip before she could say any more, but Matilda was too busy waxing lyrical on what a wonderful wedding they would have in Holtswig.
It felt like complete madness, and she wanted nothing more than to escape to her bed and pull the covers over her head. But no, she must first speak with Niki. She would not sleep if she did not know what her future was to be.
She hung about as long as she could, in the hope that he would seek her out, but there was no possibility of talking to Niki.
The gentlemen never did join the ladies, and Matilda whispered that the king had ensured Niki was very drunk.
Any conversation with him would have to wait until the following day.
“But no, it is already the following day! My, such an evening, such a triumph!”
Roberta and Antonia had no choice but to leave for home, slumped together in their coach, the former silent and the latter shooting her concerned glances.
“It won’t be too awful,” Antonia said at last in a soothing voice. “You know you like him. Anyone can see that.”
“Can they?” she asked uneasily.
“And I’m sure no one will take any notice of the king’s silly comments.”
“Won’t they?”
“And just think, you will be a princess! You will live in a castle!”
“That’s what worries me,” Roberta said. “You know me. I will never be able to keep from saying something ridiculous. Niki will regret it, and so will I. What on earth was he thinking? We were never meant to go through with marrying each other…” The last ended on such a desperate wail that Antonia reached over and wrapped her sister in her arms.
“Perhaps it was meant to happen,” she said when Roberta had calmed. “It seems you were fated to be Niki’s wife.”
“Can you not talk sensibly?” Roberta gulped. “Why now, of all times, have you turned into this witless creature? I didn’t think you believed in anything as impractical as fate!”
Antonia sighed. “I didn’t think so either, but I have changed my mind. Everywhere I look, I see the hand of fate. Ernest does too.”
“What on earth has Ernest to do with anything?”
“He loves his brother, and he wants him to be happy. He thinks you can do that.”
It appeared that the two of them had been discussing matters among themselves. With nothing more to say, Roberta just shook her head and closed her eyes. This was madness, and perhaps when she woke up after getting some sleep, it would all have been a dream.