Page 10 of The Secret of Flirting
Monique narrowed her gaze on him. “What do you mean?”
“If you will do this one favor for us, we can take her home to the palace, care for her there, and make sure she is comfortable for the rest of her life.” When Monique tensed, he added hastily, “You would of course come with her. You would be welcomed back into the family. You are, after all, granddaughter to a princess and second cousin to the reigning Princess de Chanay.”
Monique could hardly catch her breath. Her main worry would vanish. Grand-maman would be taken care of. And Monique would at last have family when Grand-maman was gone.
A family who had not given her a thought until now.
She glanced away. “I suppose I would have to give up the stage.” Her home, the only place she’d ever felt entirely at ease.
His gaze hardened. “Of course. No member of the royal family can be an actress.”
It would be as if her past life vanished, swept away by the hand of Chanay royalty as if it had never occurred. It was a great price to pay. She loved acting; it was all she knew.
Then again, Grand-maman’s condition worsened by the day.
“Forgive me, my dear,” the count added, “but you must see that living as a royal in Chanay is vastly preferable to being on the stage, for both you and your grandmother. I’ll admit that you are an excellent actress, one of the reasons we have come to ask this favor, but—”
“Yes, what exactly is it that you want of me that would wipe away the years when you wanted nothing to do with us?”
With a sigh, he sipped some wine, then set the glass down. “We want you to play your finest role yet. That of my great-niece Aurore, the reigning Princess de Chanay.”
Two days later, the count ushered her into a lavish hotel suite in Calais. So the two of them could come here unencumbered, he had left his servant, Chanceux, in Dieppe to stay with Grand-maman. It was the first time Monique had been away from the woman who had mostly raised her, and that made her nervous.
But not nearly as nervous as the prospect of meeting her cousin Aurore.
She shouldn’t have worried. The count had not lied about Aurore’s situation. The princess lay insensible in her enormous bed, with three other ladies keeping watch over her.
But even with the young woman’s cheeks flushed with fever and her eyes closed, Monique felt as if she were looking at her twin. Aurore had the same pale skin, the same full lips, the same ignominious bump on the end of her nose. Her cedar-brown hair was the same wildly disordered mass as Monique’s. It too could probably only be tamed by scraping it up into a heavy chignon that threatened to escape its confines with her every motion.
They did have different chins—Monique had the cursed prominent one, while the princess’s was small and delicate. The princess’s cheeks were also marginally fuller and her neck a bit thicker, although illness might soon slim all of that, depending on how long she remained ill.
“Aurore has been this way for days now,” the count said. “We dare not move her. But she was expected in London yesterday for the conference, and we can’t put the delegates off much longer. We must either present her or take her out of the running for ruler of Belgium.”
Monique nodded. He’d explained everything earlier, but she still found it a bit of a muddle. Politics. This was about political machinations involving the new independence of Belgium.
Apparently, the province of Belgium had broken off from the Netherlands and demanded to be its own country. Championed by the other major powers, who liked the idea of a buffer state between the powerful French and the equally powerful Dutch, Belgium had been granted its wish over the protests of the Dutch. All that remained was to set out the terms of the agreement and to select a ruler for the new country.
That was the sticking point. Princess Aurore was the one most favored for the position. Firstly, Chanay lay in the middle of Belgium, and its royal line went back for centuries. Secondly, any other candidate would shift the balance of power.
The French wanted one of their dukes, and the Dutch wanted one of their princes. The English had proposed Prince Leopold of Hanover for his connections to the English royal family and his neutrality, but that had not gone over well with the French. So, the Princess of Chanay was everyone’s first choice.
That was why the count wanted Monique to play Princess Aurore. Her Highness would remain in Calais in secret, being tended by her retinue and her mother at a secluded location, while Monique made an appearance in London to soothe all the delegates’ concerns and show that Princess Aurore was worthy of the crown of Belgium.
“Will you step in for her?” he asked now. “As you can see, she is in no condition to do what she must.”
Stalling for time, Monique said, “What is wrong with her?”
A pretty woman of about thirty rose from beside the bed, her face wrought with worry. “We aren’t sure. She fell ill shortly after we arrived here and were preparing to make the crossing to England. We fear she has cholera, though no one else in the hotel seems to be suffering. The surgeon has bled her twice, to no good effect.”
The count grew angry. “You bled her despite my instructions? Bleeding is foolish, especially given her symptoms.”
An older woman stood to stare him down. “Do not blame Lady Ursula.Igave the order. I will not risk my daughter’s life simply because you have these wild ideas about doctors.”
Privately, Monique agreed with the count. Cholera was serious enough as it was, but if the use of an outdated “cure” like bleeding weakened the princess even more, it could prove fatal. No wonder her cousin looked so pale.
The count’s lips thinned. He turned to Monique, his eyes hollow in his face. “You can see we need you. It will probably be some time before the princess has recovered enough to make public appearances.”
If ever, Monique thought but didn’t dare say it. The rest of them already seemed anxious about Princess Aurore’s condition. “I’ll admit that she and I do look somewhat alike, but surely people who have met her before—”
