Chapter 5
I try to put the brakes on, backpedaling so we don’t go toward the most powerful person in the room. The person I’ve already lied to and about tonight. And the person who can throw me in a dungeon. Because she has multiple dungeons.
She wouldn’t do it herself obviously. She’s a pixie grandmother who is about four inches shorter than me, but she can order an entire armed guard to do it. A whole country, if it comes to it.
“I don’t think we need to bother her,” I say.
“It is fine. I’m named after her son; she is exceedingly fond of me.
” Leo continues on his path past laughing aristocrats twirling in large gowns and tuxedo tails, and stoic servants standing by refreshment tables ready to make any request a reality for the guests of this party.
He’s undeterred by my attempts to have us go in any other direction.
From everything I’ve seen tonight, Leo has all the indicators of a real-life rake. It can’t be that hard to sway him from his path.
“Don’t you want something to drink? We could get that instead. I promise I’ll have fun.”
Nothing.
“There’s a rousing game of something card-like in the drawing room. Don’t you want to play?” I ask.
He doesn’t even slow.
“There’s a very attractive woman over there in a low-cut frock. Don’t you want to see what’ll happen if you go over there?”
That does cause him to finally stop. “Excuse me? Are you suggesting licentious contact?”
Oh yeah, they cared about that sort of thing back then.
Cared about women talking about it, that is, and not the premarital sex itself, which people have been having in all time periods since forever.
But he doesn’t look one breath from a scandalized heart attack.
More like he’s trying not to laugh at me in public.
“I want to say no. Marriage. You should see if she wants to get married. Unless you already are married?” I know nothing about this man.
Leo gives up trying to hold it in and laughs at me outright. “I am not married. And you are more forward than any woman I have ever met. More entertaining than any, too.”
Oh boy, just you wait a hundred and fifty years. I am probably shyer than everyone I have ever known. An actual walking stereotype of the academic who would rather spend time with books than people.
“I’m so glad you’re entertained. Why don’t we go over there”—I point in the opposite direction from the Queen—“and I can be even more forward, probably.”
“But then you will still be worried about this lodging situation. Which will inhibit our fun. And I cannot have that.”
He starts walking in that direction again and I get more physical with my deterrents, digging my heels in.
“You’ll make a scene,” Leo says.
I give in. I’ve already attracted enough attention in this room.
“Your Majesty,” Leo calls out when we get closer to the woman. He bows in front of her and I belatedly follow with a curtsey.
“Are you still taking care of my guest?” she asks.
“Of course, Your Majesty. I live to serve.”
She raises a grey eyebrow. “You did not abandon her because you got distracted by a young woman?”
“I would never.” He brings the hand not holding mine to his heart, suggesting that he very much would, and has, probably regularly.
None of this is my business. If an attractive man wants to fuck every woman in this town, or in this country, that’s not any of my business. Because this would be robbing the grave. In that he was in a grave before I was even born.
And for a long time, too. Decomposition will have started, for sure. Finished, probably.
Even if he certainly looks alive from this angle, I need to remember I’m a time anomaly, or whatever, and I don’t think time anomalies should be making out with people in the past. I think I’m okay to lust after him from afar, though.
It’s like lusting after a fictional character or the Roman Emperor Augustus.
He has very flattering statues.
“We have a slight problem—”
“If you already got her gambling debts, I will not be amused.”
“No debts. Not from lack of trying, but she is irritatingly responsible. However, she does seem to be left behind by her family, the Cooch Behars.”
“They left you behind?” Victoria looks at me with kind eyes. Maternal eyes. But she asks the question directly of me, forcing me to answer instead of leaving it up to Leo to lie for me.
This is a woman who buried the first love of her life, Albert, at forty-two.
Then, she fell in love with a Scotsman and her servant, John Brown, who called her “woman” in a Scottish brogue, and she buried him too, at sixty-three.
She feels isolated because of her position, and her nine children cause her a lot of stress.
That man in the turban I met before must be Abdul Karim, her Urdu tutor, so she’s in the process of finding a friend again.
But she’s lonely. And a bit starved for affection.
I would be a bad person to take advantage of everything I know about her personal life.
Then again, I don’t want to go to jail. Also, however nice she is to some Indians…
it’s still in a very colonizer way. That makes me feel slightly better about what I’m going to do.
I take her hand in mine, a breach of decorum considering Leo’s sharply indrawn breath, but affective when I see the shock in her eyes be replaced by warmth. She did love John because he didn’t treat her like a monarch; he treated her like a woman. So I’ll treat her like a family member.
“I think it was a case of poor communication. I was supposed to stay longer to experience England, but the people I was supposed to stay with left too, probably thinking someone else was staying with me. You’ve been so kind to invite me to this assembly, and I’m having such a nice time.
But I don’t have anywhere to stay and I’m afraid of being alone here.
And honestly, I miss my mother. I hate to impose further, but if you know of anywhere…
” I hope she finishes that sentence herself.
I channel the family dog while I wait, making sure my eyes are turned up to full puppy-dog-looking-at-you-eating status.
Victoria squeezes my hand. “You must stay with me. We certainly cannot kick a member of royalty out in the streets.”
I smile in gratitude and relief, finding the English’s genuine love of royalty, even from areas they’ve colonized, stranger in person than it was when I read about it.
And I wasn’t even expecting her to take me in; I thought she’s make someone else do it like she has with other Indians.
I’m not complaining, though. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you. ”
“Of course. Do you have your things? We can move them up to a room.” Victoria looks around for someone to order to take care of it.
“They actually took all my things with them. Because of the miscommunication.”
Victoria raises her eyebrow. “That’s quite the miscommunication.”
“You know what the last day before international travel is like, Your Majesty. Always a mess of wondering if the servants have packed and arranged everything they need to,” Leo says.
“Yes. That is so stressful for you.” I hope no one’s discovered sarcasm yet, because if they have, I might have just sarcasmed my way out of a room in a palace.
I even agreed with him until he mentioned the servants.
Because I was worried about making sure I had my passport, credit cards, chargers and good walking shoes the night before I came to England.
All I’m saying is, I can see how the McCallisters left Kevin behind in the rush of pre-travel in Home Alone.
It’s stressful.
“That’s settled then.” Victoria looks delighted to have solved my problem, and I am too. Half of a giant weight has been lifted from my shoulders as I figure out where I’ll sleep tonight, but not how I’ll get home.
Charles chooses this moment to slither toward us. “Ma’am, is there anything I can help you with?”
“No, I’ve taken care of it. I will have a guest for a little while.”
Charles scrunches up his face is distaste. “This is most irregular—”
“She is royal. We cannot allow her to struggle when we could easily render assistance,” Victoria says.
“But what if she is not with the party? No one has verified that bit of information and it is quite convenient that no one can verify it right now, Your Majesty,” Charles says. He motions to some people behind him. “Maybe we should detain her until we sort out the truth.”
That gives Victoria pause, and the panic, which had just receded, kicks up again. “Are you saying Her Majesty’s guards would let an imposter in? How would I get into the palace if I wasn’t meant to be here?” I hope they can’t hear the tremble in my voice at the lie.
Victoria nods and waves off the guards. “We will verify the story, of course, but in the meantime, I will not allow a royal family member to have nowhere to stay. And this is my house, therefore it is my decision,” Victoria says firmly.
“But thank you for your concern. Please, do enjoy the rest of the party.”
My eyes bounce back and forth between them like I’m watching a tennis match.
Although in this situation I may be the tennis ball flying between the two leaders.
On one side is a royal who wants to rule in a constitutional monarchy when the monarch is losing power, and on the other, a government official, albeit an aristocratic one, who is getting more power to actually govern.
I know who wins in the long run, and the push for more democracy is a good thing, but in this case I’m glad Victoria could put her foot down, the way she does for Abdul Karim when people complain about him.
She only knew him for a few days as one of the Indian men brought to help serve her meals during her Golden Jubilee celebration when she made him her Urdu teacher and companion. I’m glad she’s doing the same thing for me now.
“We should take our leave. I want to introduce Her Royal Highness to some university friends.” Leo, astute as he is charming, doesn’t want to be around the power struggle any more than I do.
“See, did I not say that things would work themselves out?” Leo bends down to gloat quietly in my ear.
I roll my eyes in response. Sure, this one time, because of his connections and my omniscient knowledge from the future, this one crisis is okay.
But there’s still the next day to worry about.