Her Grace's Stable: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 2 (17 page)

“So then MIGS acted against the Queen’s will.” Dottie clapped her hand over her mouth with horror, and then dropped her voice to a whisper. “No one does that and lives to tell about it.”

The door opened again and Violet’s butler tumbled inside, so pale with alarm that Violet struggled to rise up out of bed. She gripped Arthur’s hand, willing him to help her up.
I’ll meet whatever’s terrified Mr. Chumlee on my feet.

“Exactly correct, Dottham.” Swathed in a heavy black cloak and gown, the woman was unidentifiable. Even her voice sounded odd, as if distorted by something. She went to the windows and made sure the curtains were drawn, and then walked about the room with another strange device that emitted a low beeping.

Mr. Chumlee wrung his hands and jerked his head at their uninvited guest, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Violet had seen her mother rage at their entire household while staggering drunk and he’d never blinked. She’d thought her mother the meanest, hardest lady in existence.

Until I met Queen Majel.

She tugged harder on Arthur’s hand, but he refused to help her up. He put a hand on her shoulder and eased her back down to her pillows despite her alarm. He sat beside her, shifting so he put his body between her and the intruder. Which only made her throat tighten with worry.

Finally, the stranger pushed back her cloak, revealing the flawless beauty of the most powerful woman in the universe.

Dottie tried to jerk to her feet, got tangled up in the coverlet, and slipped to the floor in a tumble of skirts and bedding. “Your Majesty!”

Queen Majel pulled the desk chair closer to the bed and seated herself, carefully adjusting her voluminous skirts. “Do sit down and make yourself comfortable, Dottham.”

Beneath the plain outer cloak, the finest black and gold silks sparkled even in the dimmed room. Her golden hair was artfully arranged in a swept-up style framed by raven’s feathers. Of course it was all the rage for the ladies to wear bird feathers in their hair this Season since Majel had set the fashion, but no one dared wear the Royal House Krowe’s symbol.

No one else but Arthur’s tormenter. Will Majel ever forgive me if I reveal such a wretched secret about one of the princesses?
The thought almost wrung a despairing laugh from her.
She has no mercy. She certainly doesn’t forgive.

“I’m not formally here. In fact, there aren’t any formalities today. I’m just here visiting an old friend on her death bed.”

Violet couldn’t help but flinch.

“I’m not surprised to find Dottham at your beside, Blackmyre, but I must admit interest in that strapping young man with the death grip on your hand. If my eyes don’t deceive me, you’ve kidnapped Wellington’s oldest grandson.”

Now it was Arthur’s turn to try and shoot up with alarm. Violet held on to his hand for fear he’d unsheathe the lazor Cole had probably given to him. Majel would see him dead for carrying a weapon in her presence. “Shhh, pet, I already knew.”

He jerked his head around, the whites of his eyes rolling wildly. “You knew? For how long?”

“Nearly from the beginning. Your brother bears a remarkable resemblance to you.”

His eyes narrowed, his mouth flattening into a jealous slant. “And where did you meet Garrett, Your Grace? It wouldn’t have been with Grandmama’s approval.”

Queen Majel laughed softly and clapped her hands. “Oh, Blackmyre, I had no idea that you’d provide such entertainment or I would have called on you more often. However, I’m regretfully not here for my own amusement. Unless you’d rather die, of course. I do typically find such final struggles at least somewhat entertaining.”

“Of course not.” Violet studied the Queen, trying to gauge how hard she ought to push. Sometimes a preemptive strike was courageous; other times, disastrous. The puissance wall loomed before her, unknown darkness threatening on all sides.
My favorite kind of jump.

“Dottie, Dr. Miles, please take my men to the other room.”

Dottie opened her mouth like she’d protest, but a look from Majel sent the ladies scurrying to the door. Cole went because he’d always obey her orders.

Arthur gripped her hand and refused to be moved. To save him face, Violet pretended to ignore his presence.
I just hope he doesn’t hear something for which Majel decides he needs to be silenced. The Dowager will turn over in her grave if I’m forced to lift a hand against the Queen.

“I hope your leak has been appropriately silenced, Your Majesty, though I admit displeasure that my life hangs in the balance so you could ferret out whoever was passing information to MIGS.”

Majel smiled and Violet’s nape crawled. Chills crept down her spine that had absolutely nothing to do with her illness. “Said leak is very effectively plugged, Blackmyre.”

“And MIGS?” Violet fought to keep her voice from shaking as badly as her hands. “I’m assuming they didn’t approve of me for Field Marshal, which is why I had such an unfortunate physical exam the very next day.”

“They feared you might be too effective in that regard and finally put an end to this intolerably long war, which would negate my willingness to look the other way while they drain my coffers to fund prohibitively expensive research projects. Though I may find MIGS useful yet.” Queen Majel opened the reticule on her lap and pulled out a simple-looking silver trinket box. “If I may, I believe I can resolve your unnatural case of consumption.”

Waiting, evidently, for Violet’s approval, the Queen simply held the object up before her.

Do I trust her?

If I have any hope at all of living to enjoy everything Arthur and Cole offer, then I have no choice.

“Your Majesty, I greatly appreciate any assistance you can provide against this horrible illness.”

Queen Majel stood and came closer. Holding her breath, Violet watched with not a small amount of trepidation as the box lowered to her chest. She braced for pain, lights, something…

Majel sat back down and continued to chat. “I believe you’ve been infected with a very small kind of programmable robot initially created by the late Royal Physician, the Duchess of Wyre.”

Violet had to concentrate very hard not to react to the infamous name. Wyre had disappeared, certainly, but no one truly believed she was dead, no matter how hard the Queen tried to convince them otherwise.

“She intended her invention to be used for significant healing, but naturally MIGS used the opportunity to create a virtually undetectable weapon. These miniscule robots have been tearing apart your lung tissue, but now I’m reprogramming them to heal the damage they’ve caused instead.”

The thought of tiny robots roaming around in her sent a lazor-sharp chill straight to her marrow. “That’s very kind of you, Your Majesty, but will you also be able to remove them once their job is done? I don’t care to have them roaming about my body indefinitely.”

“I believe so, but I admit that you’ll be the first person upon which I’ve attempted such an extraction. We must wait several days, at least, to ensure your health has been returned. I can only hope that MIGS hasn’t implemented new security procedures that will prevent the reprogramming, let alone the extraction.”

Violet closed her eyes a moment and listened to her body, trying to tell if anything was changing or moving inside her.
How small are these things? Shouldn’t I be able to feel them burrowing into my tissues?

She shuddered and Arthur patted her shoulder soothingly.

“How will I know if you’ve been successful?” she asked faintly.

“Other than the fact that you haven’t yet expired?” Majel gave her a wry smile. “It will take a few days, but I’m confident in the person who provided this device, else I wouldn’t have risked your life. I need you in the war against Francia too much. Speaking of which, I’m not pleased in the slightest that you deprived Wellington of her grandson. We’ve lost too much ground on Iberia as a result.”

Queen Majel pinned Arthur with her gaze. “You must return to Wellington at once. I shan’t risk the entire Empire while you prance around with Blackmyre.”

The Queen’s choice of words made Arthur clamp his hand down harder on Violet’s, but his voice rang with determination. “I have absolutely no intention of ever returning to Wellington. She made it very clear that I am no longer welcome in our House.”

“Nonsense,” Queen Majel retorted. “She’s been looking for you frantically for days. And, by the way, she used her new temporary power as Field Marshal to see that the private school she sent you to was closed earlier this week after she discovered your disappearance. I myself can only commend whoever eliminated the treacherous schoolmistress who participated in sending free Britannian citizens to a slave auction.”

At least there’d be no repercussions against Arthur for killing the woman. Keeping her voice soft, Violet dared a delicate push to determine exactly how much Majel knew. “And the auction house where he was tortured?”

Majel’s head jerked around and she snapped, “’Tis no concern of yours, Blackmyre. I’ll see to that myself.”

The Queen’s spy network must be as tremendous and far-reaching as rumored. No wonder Dottie whispered every time she had a negative thing to say.

“Of course, Your Majesty. I fully trust your ability to mete out justice in this matter.”

However, Queen Majel wasn’t entirely appeased. “While you take command of my army and bring me Iberia.”

We’re not out of the woods yet.
Violet held the Queen’s gaze steadily without showing any weakness.
I might be on my deathbed, but the last thing I’m going to let you do is rob Arthur of his honor and House in one fell swoop. Even if his Grandmama is a heartless bitch.

“I believe Mr. Wellesley was commanding your army quite well, Your Majesty, whether he bore the formal title or not.”

Arthur made a small sound that didn’t even draw Majel’s gaze. After the days in the ring, Violet knew he’d gasped with shock. That she knew so much about his true identity, or that she intended to see his honor returned? She didn’t dare turn to look at his face and try to discern the truth, not until they were alone where she could reassure him.

Queen Majel smiled like a cat torn between eating the mouse or the canary first. She settled back in her chair. “Entertain me with your suggestions, Blackmyre. I’m feeling magnanimous today.”

“I think you should make his promotion official.” Arthur leapt to his feet, but she kept a firm grip on his hand and silenced him with such a fierce look that he immediately sat back down on the bed without saying a word. Though his glare promised that later he’d have plenty to say about it in private.
I welcome the fight, pet.
“He’s earned it.”

“Do you mean to suggest that I ought to name a
man
from a minor House the commander of the finest army in the known universe?”

“His grandmother was good enough to promote and she wasn’t even the one making the orders.”

“I know that, Blackmyre,” Majel said testily. “Else why do you think I promoted the damned fool in the first place? Wellington has no warfare experience, let alone a proven leadership record, much as your dearly departed mother.”

Refusing to be baited, Violet replied, “But my father did an admirable job for Blackmyre, didn’t he? He certainly helped her win your Cross, even if he wasn’t good enough to have the title of command. No, that honor went to my mother, even when he saved the battalion from her mistakes.”

“It was a different time.” Majel softened somewhat. “As well, your father was from a much less desirable background.”

“Which is more important to you—appearances or ability?”

“You know very well my answer to that, Blackmyre, or I wouldn’t be here to ensure Wellesley returns to his service. However, appearances do matter as well. I can’t snap my fingers and change centuries of tradition and law in one millisecond, no matter how much I may wish otherwise.”

“But—”

“Don’t you think I would rather my brilliant and talented son inherit the throne rather than my wicked eldest daughter? Or how about my firstborn son who died in the Kali Kata uprising? Surely he was more honorable, brave and deserving than the rest of my spoiled females, but his courage saw him dead before he was barely twenty. Even if I disown Jane on grounds of insanity—thus tainting House Krowe for all time—I’m left with daughters sired by a traitorous rebel.” Bitterness lined the Queen’s face, as well as untold heartaches. “And if one word of this is whispered outside these walls, I’ll see House Blackmyre extinguished so quickly and thoroughly that no one will even remember that you existed. If you receive any further information about these auctions, you shall contact me immediately and cease any further contact with them.”

Shaken, Violet simply stared at the Queen for a moment. It was easy to forget that beneath all the power and responsibility, Majel was still human, a woman and a mother, with the same difficulties countless other mothers faced with their children.

She could almost forget that Queen Majel had devastated countless planets in order to reap their resources for her own coffers. Hundreds of millions of other species had been killed during their assimilation into her great Empire. Her threat to wipe out House Blackmyre wasn’t idle. It’d been done countless times before in order to keep her crown secure.

She must sincerely regret my near death to divulge so many personal secrets. So use that to our advantage.
“You could make him the First Duke of Wellington in his own right, inheritable by his sons. Granted, it’s a rare honor, but you have precedence and he’s more than earned it. That will elevate his personal rank and earn you some favor with the bluestockings demanding more men’s rights. Wellington won’t protest since she has no surviving heirs. Her only other hope to keep the duchy in her bloodline is for one of her grandsons to marry and have a daughter before her death.”