Once Upon a Romance 02 - As The Last Petal Falls (36 page)

Vivienne couldn’t tell if Bianca was finally joining in the fun, or simply being sweetly earnest.

Sir Miles fumed, and blurted out his message.

“There’s an audience in the throne room!”

Vivienne felt ice go down her spine. An audience? Maybe her father had responded to Brannon’s request for her hand. Her stomach lurched. Bianca saw her distress and took her hand.

“We’ll be there in a few moments, if you’d like to notify the king.” Sir Miles barely bowed before sauntering off, and once he was out of earshot Bianca spoke soothingly. “Don’t worry, Vivienne. Your mother speaks of your father as a wise and good man. He wouldn’t agree to this without your consent. Now take a few deep breaths.”

Vivi complied, and they set off, hand in hand, to find out what had happened.

The throne room was abuzz. No one knew why they had been summoned, which made Vivienne’s pulse slow down. Surely a royal messenger from Albion would have been noted. This had to be something else. She and Bianca were among the last to arrive, and moments after they made their way to the foot of the dais, Brannon planted himself on the throne. His face was alight with evil delight, and he cast a malicious glance at both young women. Suddenly Vivienne felt sick again. Maybe the messenger would have been better than whatever was coming next.

The horns sounded and a squad of troops, not from the regular army or the city watch, but the king’s own Royal Guard, herded John Marlplot into the room. He looked battered, although otherwise unhurt, but when he saw Vivienne he gave her a look of such misery that she almost folded up on the floor. How had they caught him? What was going on?

Brannon began speaking. “Many of you know of my ongoing attempt to find the outlaw band that has repeatedly robbed the royal treasury of our tax payments.” The nobles glanced from one another to the large youth standing amongst the guards. He was big, but didn’t look like a hardened criminal. Vivienne could see the questioning doubt on their faces. “Recently I came to believe that some of these outlaws had family residing in the mountains. Specifically, in a little town between here and Albion.” Vivienne started shaking. “After surveying the town, these heroes before you managed to identify one of the bandits and track him back to their hideout. We now know where the Beast has been keeping himself. And we’re going to eradicate these vermin.”

Vivienne locked eyes with Marlplot. She knew he must feel overwhelming guilt over giving away the location of the keep. She wished she could tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Brannon had gleaned a hint from Vivienne after all, and it had been enough to lead him to John. The real fault lay with her. And now, unless a miracle occurred, Brannon was going to kill every man in that keep.

He was going to kill Fain.

“I, personally, will be leading this expedition. We know their location and their numbers, and will have surprise on our side. It’s little more than a hunting expedition, my friends. And you,” he addressed Marlplot, “may come with me. You and your friends can be executed together.”

John barely acknowledged him. Instead he looked at Vivienne. She stopped trembling and squared her shoulders, meeting the loyal man’s gaze with new resolve. She’d been worried and adrift ever since her mistake. Well, no more. It was up to her to escape from here and go warn the men in the keep.

She just needed a plan.

Vivienne clenched her fists as she watched the force of men assembled by the king ride out from the city the following morning. Marlplot rode among them, hands tied to the pommel of his horse. She still didn’t have a plan. She’d been thinking, but her thoughts were useless. She had to get out of the city before she could even attempt to get back to the keep, and she could think of no way out of the city, not with the guard instructed to keep her in the castle. She was frustrated, ready to tear out her hair. There had to be a way, but she couldn’t see it. She was too blinded by her need. Her fingers dug into the window casement as the last of the mounted troop disappeared behind a hill. Her time was running out and all she could do was spin in circles in her mind.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a huge commotion at the entrance to the palace. An ornate carriage was pulling up, drawn by four white horses. Something about it looked familiar, but it took Vivienne a moment to realize what it was. The crest on the door. That was it.

She leapt away from the window, shouting for a page. When two boys appeared in her doorway, breathless, she beamed at them.

“Grey, please go to the steward and request that tea be served in the rose salon for four ladies; and Robert,” she smiled even wider, “there’s a carriage at the front gate with an odd livery on it. It’s a pumpkin, being driven by mice. A dear friend of mine is here; would you please go show her to the rose salon?”

As the boys dashed off, Vivienne hurried to gather Bianca and her mother. Finally, her miracle was here.

Vivienne could barely sit still. Isabelle had been delighted at the news, but Bianca was perplexed. Vivi left it to her mother to explain.

“I don’t understand, Isabelle; how can one woman help that much?”

“There are things I can’t tell you, Bianca, secrets entrusted only to particular people. Suffice it to say that Vivienne is right; we are incredibly lucky she’s here.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it, my darling Isabelle.” Dame Fae Merriweather strode into the room, bustle flouncing, ruffles aflutter, and fascinator firmly attached to her snowy-white, upswept hair. “It is a matter of knowing every principal involved down to their very core, and then deducing the most likely scenario from that knowledge. When I realized what Little Miss Headstrong here was up to, I knew I would be needed. And here I am. It’s good to see you again, dear.” She kissed a bemused Isabelle on the cheek with a look of great affection.

“I’ve missed you, Merriweather.”

“And I, you. I still wish you’d let me get you out of here.” She cast a beady eye on Isabelle. “Content with the choice you made?”

Isabelle turned a sad but smiling face on Vivienne, and Vivi understood all that must be behind it. “I am.”

“Then I suppose it was for the best. I’ve a letter to you, from your husband. You can read it later.” She handed over a heavy-looking envelope.

“Oh, good. I’m almost finished with the one I’m writing him. I’ll send it on with you when you go.”

Vivi gaped at the Dame. “ You’ve been carrying letters for my parents ?”

“It’s a lovely surprise, isn’t it, dear? Just think, she probably knows all about your escapades, including the time you set her bedroom suite on fire by accident, and she’s still glad to see you.” Dame Merriweather beamed on Vivienne. “Now, perhaps we should focus on your
current
debacle. You’ve really stirred up the hornet’s nest, haven’t you, your highness? It’s not enough that your friend Max is at home flouting the traditions of his noble class; you’re about to set nations at each other’s throats. What is it in the water in Albion that turns the young nobles into such troublemakers?”

Vivienne was used to the Dame’s lectures. “I suppose you’d prefer things to remain as they were?” she asked dryly.

“Of course not, dear, don’t be silly. We’re all in agreement that something needs to be done about Brannon. It’s just that
my
way is rather like using a fine poniard to dispatch an opponent, while
your
way is like bashing everything that moves with a very large club, until you’ve managed, only by very great
happenstance,
to hit the fellow you’re aiming for.”

Vivienne raised her eyebrow. “We’re a little short on time, Dame. May I make confession of all my wrongdoings later?”

“I suppose. If you must. Just remember, you’ve been very careless, dear.”

“I’m not likely to forget.” The sorrow in Vivienne’s voice made Dame Merriweather look at her sharply, and then soften her face.

“Then I’d say you’ve learned your lesson. Now let’s see what we can do to put it to rights.”

The Dame settled herself in a comfortable chair and gestured for Vivi to hand her a teacup.

“Let’s see if I’m up to speed, shall we? Brannon has finally discovered where Fain is hiding.” At Vivienne’s pained noise, Merriweather looked at her. “He would have been found eventually, dear. I’ve heard good things about the boy, but he was getting careless with his raids. This way you know the situation and can do something to help.”

“But
what?!
“

“I was getting there, dear, be patient. Brannon’s men will be moving at a steady pace, but as far as they know, there’s no hurry. They won’t tire themselves or their horses in order to cover ground faster. Which means that you can still make it there ahead of them, if you move with a certain amount of urgency.” Vivienne rose and began to pace. The Dame looked at her calmly. “Tiring yourself out won’t help, dear. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. You need to make your way out of the city, you need provisions and a mount waiting for you once you’re free of the palace, and then you need to make your way in all haste back to the keep,
without
accidentally stumbling across Brannon and his men. Did I miss anything?”

“ Only the monumental thing: exactly
how
we are to go about doing any of that. “ Vivienne’s patience had reached the breaking point.

“Simple, dear. You need to pool your resources. You aren’t thinking about
all
you have available to you.”

Vivienne fumed, but experience had taught her that the Dame would never tell her something she could figure out on her own. So, just what did she have available? She let her eyes wander over the room while she listed her assets. They were pitifully few. Of course, she had the support of Bianca, and her mother… She looked at her mother, and found the face so very like her own, gazing back with love and affection.

Vivi’s eyes widened. “Of course. I am an idiot.”

“But you’re very pretty, dear, and that makes up for a great deal.”

Vivi addressed Bianca and Isabelle. “I think I have a plan. But I’m going to need your help.” Quickly Vivienne sketched out her idea. Bianca looked worried, but agreed to her part.

“It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Won’t your huntsman interfere?”

“I don’t
think
so.” But Bianca’s doubt was obvious.

“He won’t.” Isabelle spoke firmly. “You can rely on his discretion.”

“Good.” Vivienne trusted her mother’s judgement. “Mamma?”

“Of course I’ll do it, Vivienne. You don’t even need to ask.” Isabelle looked at her fondly. “I only wish we had more time together.”

“Don’t worry, Isabelle. You’ll see your daughter again.” Dame Merriweather spoke with such assurance that Vivienne couldn’t help but believe her. “Ladies, if you will go do your parts, then Vivienne and I will take care of the rest. Shall we say, one hour from now?”

Both women hugged Vivienne, saying quick but heartfelt goodbyes, and then dashed off. Vivi turned to the Dame.

“All right, then. How am I going to get John Marlplot away from the guard?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea, dear, but I’m sure you’ll think of something clever.”

Vivienne stared at Dame Merriweather. “I thought you could help me.”