15
A week passed at Huntington Abbey. Other than a few uneventful trips and parades through town, my days were spent in the company of Lady Huntington and Isabelle, the latter of whom made it a point to ignore me after our last interaction.
It was a shame that hiding in one’s room as a guest was frowned upon, for I would’ve gladly done that instead of spending my evenings in the company of two women who detested me.
Crown Prince Bennett, having the luxury of being the crown prince, was allowed to lock himself in his quarters without being questioned. Ulysses joined him to write up reports. Pippin joined as well, after realizing that the crown prince’s bed was far softer than mine. Even Giselle frequented the room, claiming to have a variety of fitting issues she needed to consult him with.
It seemed that everyone was invited to hide out in his quarters except me. I suspected he was still angry with me for offending Lady Huntington and this was his punishment.
Luckily, as the ball drew closer, Isabelle and Lady Huntington were too preoccupied to pay me much attention. I was allowed to retire immediately after dinner the evening before.
“A family friend is arriving tonight so I’m afraid I cannot entertain you, Lady Narcissa. It is getting late. He will be introduced tomorrow morning,” Lady Huntington said.
I couldn’t have been more thankful to this mysterious friend, glad to have an hour or two with Misty before bed. But when I returned to my room, I found Maddox squatting beside the door, spreading out a bedroll.
“What are you doing here?” I asked when I approached.
He looked up and scowled. “His Highness says you are to be guarded in the presence of strangers.” He shifted his weight to his knees and straightened his purple tunic. Another bedroll leaned against the wall. “Do you mind? I have to make room for Flannery.”
I stepped aside as Maddox spread out the other bedroll. “It’s only one of the Huntingtons’ family friends. Is this necessary?”
“Ask the crown prince,” Maddox said. He leaned to the side. “Oi, Flannery! Over here.”
Another guard came down the hall, red cheeks puffing. I recognized him as the guard who gave me his pear during the procession. “Burning barnyards! This place is a labyrinth. Why are there so many hallways?” Flannery said, panting. Somehow, he got even redder when he saw me. He bowed abruptly. “My condolences, milady.”
I furrowed my brows. “Condolences? ”
Flannery choked up. Maddox flailed his arms in my periphery. “Er, excuse me, milady. I’m rather parched. I’ll be back in a bit!”
He ran off down the hall, which was decidedly not where the kitchen was. I whirled around and put my hands on my hips. “What is going on?”
Maddox grew as red as Flannery. After a second, he mumbled, “I...might have told the guards about what you said the other day.”
“What did I say?”
“That...His Highness found you so despicable that he kissed his cat.”
I stared. I had been exaggerating, merely verbalizing my most ridiculous thoughts after my frustration at Isabelle and Pippin.
“And why exactly,” I said slowly, “did Flannery give me his condolences?”
Maddox blew out a slow, painful breath. “He thinks the crown prince prefers cats instead...instead of women. And so does the whole guard.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth before I cursed, or worse, laughed. I knelt across from him.
“What in the blazing fires were you thinking?” I demanded in a hushed voice. I was so worried Isabelle would spread rumors that I didn’t even consider Maddox would.
“How was I supposed to know they’d take it that way?” he said, matching my volume. “Apparently, His Highness has never shown interest in women or men in the past. Before I knew it, the entire guard spun their own story around what I said. I don’t think I’ve met a more vulgar group of people. It’s impressive, really.”
“Has Lord Frederick heard? ”
Maddox shook his head vehemently. “He doesn’t like gossip. Says we shouldn’t be gossiping to begin with.”
“Well, he’s right!”
“If you knew how deathly boring this job is I doubt you could stop yourself! Besides, it’s hardly my fault. The guards are always gossiping. What am I supposed to do, stuff my ears with cotton?”
“Preferably!”
“I already do that at night. Their snores are thunderous.”
I exhaled slowly. “Take everything you said back. Tell everyone you lied.”
Maddox scoffed. “It’s too late. Maybe if the crown prince actually liked you, we wouldn’t have this problem.”
“How is this my fault? I can’t help that he doesn’t like me.”
“Then make him! You can do anything and everything according to Father,” Maddox said.
I didn’t miss his bitter undertone. “Wait. Are you jealous of me?” I said, incredulous.
“In your dreams!” Maddox jerked his head forward so aggressively that it knocked into mine. “Ow!”
I rubbed the throbbing spot on my forehead. “Blazing fires. Your head is as hard as it looks.”
“You’re one to say!”
Before I could come up with another biting remark, footfalls came from behind me. “Is everything alright?”
I jerked up at the crown prince’s quiet voice. Heavens. I prayed he hadn’t heard anything.
“Perfectly, Your Highness.” I bobbed an unsteady curtsy before braving a look at his face.
Crown Prince Bennett glanced from me to Maddox. “I hope you do not mind the extra security. It’s merely a precaution. ”
“Not at all.” I cleared my throat. “I was going to retire. Good night.”
I slipped through my door, shooting Maddox a glare before slamming it shut.
Misty bounded over to me. You’re here early , she said, nudging her head under my hand. I let the events of the past fifteen minutes wash over her.
Misty rolled onto her back and purred. I was sure if she had the ability to laugh, she would be in tears. My, that is hysterical! Imagine kissing Pippin—of all cats!
“Seriously? Is that what you find funny?”
IT WAS STILL DARK WHEN a knock came at my door.
“There’s something for you,” came Maddox’s groggy voice. I buried my face into my pillows and squinted at the gap between the curtains. Judging from the brightening horizon, it was very early in the morning. I donned a dressing gown and opened the door.
“What?”
Maddox held out a bundle of fabric, barely illuminated by the torch in the hallway. “Your dress or something,” he mumbled.
The ball was today. I had forgotten. I made a move to take it, but something scaly and glistening poked out of the fabric.
Maddox yelped. The dress tumbled onto the ground in a heap. “What in the blazing fires is that?”
I squinted as a snake slithered out. It was muddy in color with stripes running down its length.
Where am I? Where is the garden? he hissed.
“A garter snake.” I reached down to pick it up. “I’ll bring you back shortly,” I told him as he coiled around my hand.
Maddox looked at it in horror. “I-I...how did that thing get in there?”
A groan came from the bedroll on the other side. “What is it, Mad—agh!” Flannery screamed, face going stark white.
I winced at the high-pitched sound. “Take this to the garden, will you?”
“B-but I...snake!”
“He’s harmless. I promise.” I took Flannery’s hand and transferred the garter snake to his palm. “Garden, please.”
“Oooh,” Flannery whimpered, holding the creature at arm’s length as he half-walked and half-ran down the hall.
I knelt and picked up the dress, unfurling it. Instead of a ballgown, it was a plain work dress made of rough cotton. “Did Isabelle send this?” I asked, stifling a yawn.
Maddox frowned. “A servant did. She looked like she was in a hurry or...oh.” He nodded. “Isabelle. Should I report her?”
“Report her to whom? Her father?”
He opened and closed his mouth. “She can’t get away with this!”
“Of course she can. Besides, we’re leaving tomorrow.”
Maddox fumed. “I don’t understand how you can just...take this!”
“I’m going back to sleep.”
I did precisely that. After a moment of blissful slumber, Serena entered.
“Breakfast, milady.” She set a tray on the bedside table. “Preparations are going on downstairs. You won’t meet Mr. Turner until the ball tonight.”
“Who?” I mumbled, squinting as Serena drew open the curtains, letting white winter light into the room .
“Mr. Dominic Turner, the gentleman who arrived yesterday. He’s the son of General Killian Turner. You’ve heard of him, no?”
I jerked up at the familiar name, then groaned.
Just when I thought my stay here couldn’t get any worse, my former fiancé reappears after years of separation. I had spent countless balls and soirees from ages fourteen and up avoiding him ever since Mother broke off our engagement. I always hated the boy. He was pompous and irritating from what I remembered—and oddly attached to me despite my coldness toward him.
After informing me that Giselle will pay a visit later, Serena left me to dine in bed. A plate of fish was left out for Misty, who immediately went to the window to eat. I was carefully applying rouge to my lips when Giselle barged in.
“Good morning! Let’s get you in your corset, shall we?”
I jumped, smudging the berry red across my chin. “Is it that much work to knock?” I muttered, wiping the color away.
Giselle unslung her bag from her shoulder and removed several yards of royal purple velvet from within. “We have a fitting to do.”
“A fitting?” I demanded as she dug through the drawers for my corset. “The ball is tonight.”
“I’m aware of that,” she said, fishing out the garment. “I told you I sew quickly.”
I raised my arms as she pulled the corset over me. She made quick work of the laces. “That doesn’t mean you should,” I muttered, comforted by the snug support of the boning.
A torrent of velvet cascaded over my head without warning as Giselle tugged the gown down. When I emerged from the other side, it came into view. The bodice was a harmonious blend of elegantly curved seams and clever darts that hugged my figure. Rows of luminous seed pearls trailed down to a center point at my waist. I blinked, surprised at how different my reflection looked.
“Let’s see,” Giselle said, stepping back with a scrutinizing gaze. “A little loose under the arms, but otherwise, perfect!”
I shivered. “Isn't it too cold for this?” The dress exposed my shoulders, a daring cut some would wear during the summer months. Although it was a bold style, I didn’t feel as exposed as I used to in the gowns Mother picked for me.
“Fashionable ladies never get cold,” Giselle said, briskly pulling a pair of matching gloves over my arms. “Now spin for me.”
I obliged as Misty watched us disinterestedly over her breakfast .
Giselle clapped. “My, my. I’ve done it again! So. What do you think?”
I spread the gathered skirt, which flared dramatically at my feet. “I’ve never worn purple before.”
Mother had practically worn red all her life, favoring shades of ruby and crimson. So had I. She said it was the boldest hue there was. Now, I wasn’t sure I would agree. The velvety purple was deep and mesmerizing, especially when it caught the light.
Giselle grinned. “It’s his favorite color.”
I gave her a blank look.
“The person next door,” she said impatiently. “You know, your fiancé?”
“Why does that matter?”
Giselle threw her hands in the air and muttered under her breath about “those two idiots.”