Page 60 of The Heir
Was he your man? Did he carry your tales to the board, to Parliament, and St. James’s? Were you using him to keep me and Mama under your thumb?
She could lash out now, let him know she would not be fooled.
I know what you are. I know what you are doing!
Then, past Sir John’s shoulder, she saw the ghost. It was Elizabeth, the tall and red-haired queen, with her lace ruff, pointed chin, and angry, penetrating gaze.
The regal ghost put one long white finger to her lips.Hush, the gesture said.Keep your secrets.
Sir John was watching. Victoria dragged her feelings back and bundled them up tightly in her chest. She shrank down, made herself small, made herself into the humble, tiny thing he so loved to see.
Made him smile his thin, satisfied smile.
“I should be back with Mama,” she murmured.
“You should.” He gave her his arm again, and she took it and watched the floor all the way back to her rooms.
And all the way back, she knew the ghost followed.
Chapter 27
Queen Adelaide emerged from the king’s bedchamber. Doors were opened and closed. Candles moved to provide better light as she sat in the chair before the fire. A glass of wine had already been placed on the table. It was rich red. French, no doubt. She missed the ice wines of home sometimes. She wanted something clear just now. Something strong that would fortify her spirits, not depress them.
It was Mrs. Wilson who approached her first.
“How does the king, ma’am?”
“Better,” she said, loud enough so her whole suite of ladies and servants could hear. “His fever is lessened, and he took some broth and watered wine.” She took a drink of her own wine. It wasn’t what she wanted, but it was far better than yet another cup of tea. William had croaked multiple complaints about the wine and demanded rum, like the sailor that he was. Adelaide told him not to be ridiculous.
“If you want to be on your back for three more days, you will go on and drink your ridiculous rum ration. If you would rather be out of this room and back about your business, you will listen to your doctors and me.”
William had, thankfully, decided to humor her. “No need to give the troublemakers more time to be about their business,” he muttered.
Mrs. Wilson had not yet retreated.
“Was there something more?” Adelaide asked.
“You know that I have been to speak with the Baroness Lehzen.”
“And?” Adelaide finished off her glass. The footman moved forward with more wine, but she waved him back.You received a note from Lehzen, but nothing from Lady Charlotte, our official state governess. It is a wonder we bother to keep her there at all.“What does Lehzen have to say?”
“She says rumors of the king’s illness have reached the duchess and Sir John.”
“Damn.” Living so long with a naval man had caused a certain deterioration of the queen’s language, at least in private. “Well, tell Lehzen that it’s a mild cold.”
“I did, ma’am.”
“And also tell her she should repeat that as often as she feels will be helpful, and perhaps even laugh over . . . others’ concern for His Majesty’s health.”
“I am sure she will do so, but I will write and remind her.”
Adelaide nodded.God, I am so tired.“How is the princess? She is recovered from that fall?”
“Much recovered,” said Mrs. Wilson. “Dr. Clarke is visiting her daily. But there is something else.”
Somewhere outside, morning was dawning. Adelaide knew she ought to tell Mrs. Wilson that whatever she had to say could wait. She needed sleep. She would do her husband no good if she was so tired she could not think straight, could not fend off all those vultures from Parliament....
Instead, she asked, “Well? What is it?”
