Secondhand Charm (19 page)

Chapter 38

There was never a chance to warn Annalise. The wedding, with its ceremony and its pomp, its incense and songs, stretched on like a waking dream, like a spell being cast. The final incantation of the spell would make Annalise a queen.

I followed the steps of the ritual we’d practiced the day before, and suddenly it was over. Leopold and Annalise were man and wife, and I was carrying the train of Annalise’s dress down the aisle, and avoiding looking at the highwayman.

The sun blinded me when we left the cathedral. Welcome fresh air filled my lungs. Mobbing the streets before us, as far as the eye could see, were throngs of waving, cheering people. King Leopold, holding Annalise’s arm, paused to wave to his adoring subjects. He planted a long kiss on Annalise’s mouth, and together they hurried into the golden carriage awaiting them. I climbed into another carriage with several of the bridesmaids and their companion knights, and endured the long, slow ride back.

When we reached the castle, we were directed to join Annalise and Leopold in the grand ballroom, but I broke away from the others and ran up to Annalise’s chambers. I hadn’t forgotten her garters. I viewed them as a sort of peace offering for the inconvenience I’d caused her.

The upstairs corridors echoed with my footfalls. I entered Annalise’s chambers and took a longing look at her view of the sea. Nature had served up a perfect September day, and now the sea looked bluer than I’d ever seen it. How I wished I were swimming with Clair now.

The Starlight
lay anchored some distance out into the harbor, and there along the shore near the boathouse lay the boats Leopold and Annalise would use to reach their honeymoon ship. Before the sun set today they would sail away for their bridal trip.

I went to the alcove where the armoire stood and opened the door.

Just then I heard Annalise’s chamber door open, and a footfall on the flagstones. A heavy footfall, that of a man in boots.

Some instinct made me afraid. I climbed into the armoire and pulled the doors nearly shut behind me, then peered through the gap to watch.

The footsteps made their way slowly around the room, but my view was too poor to see more than a dark blur when the figure passed by my hiding place. From the squeak of mattresses and wooden frames, I gathered he’d flung himself upon Annalise’s bed. What kind of outrage was this?

I took a gamble and pushed the armoire door open another inch. No squealing hinges betrayed me. But now I could see who lay there.

The bandit.

He lay on the bed with confident ease, his ankles crossed, his hands resting behind his head, and elbows cocked. Even despising him as I did, I had to admit he was magnificent, dressed in leather trousers and a jacket of dark suede. Underneath was a snow white shirt, again with a lace ruffle under his chin, and a red sash belted around his waist.

What could he be doing here? Did he have some violence planned against the princess—or rather, now, the queen? Did he expect to catch her in an unguarded moment, here, returning to her room? And if so, what could I do?

Oh, for my leviathan!
Clair, Clair, can you hear me?

But I knew he could not.

Neither Annalise nor I would be any match for this huge man, I knew. But perhaps together we could be. Perhaps, if we both fought him off and called for help, some help would come. I flexed my fingers and toes, bracing myself to be ready to fight when the moment came, and in the meantime, to hold steady my place.

And there we both remained, listening to the clock tick.

It chimed a quarter hour, and then a half. How long would my absence go unnoticed? Would someone come looking for me? Oh, please heaven, let them come. My legs screamed at the agony of crouching so long, but I didn’t dare change position lest I give myself away.

The door opened, then closed. Footsteps crossed the room. Running footsteps—was it Annalise? A servant? Whoever it was, had she seen him?

The bed squealed again. I moved aside for a better angle. Was he rising from the bed to seize her? Was now the time I should burst forth from my hiding place?

What I saw made my heart stand still.

It was Annalise. She lay on her bed in her wedding dress, most willingly clasped in the bandit’s arms.

Chapter 39

She lay upon his chest, gazing into his eyes. He reached up and wove his fingers into her hair, which loosed it from its careful configuration, spilling her dark curls over both their faces. She kissed him like I’d never seen her kiss King Leopold before. He closed his eyes.

“How much longer?” he whispered. “You can have no idea how I suffer.”

“Nor can you imagine my pain,” she replied. “Only a few more hours.”

“The ship’s captain will marry us,” the bandit said, “or he’ll feel a ball in his chest.”

Marry us?

“You’re too quick with weapons, Ronnie,” she teased. “You need me to civilize you.”

His deep laugh filled the room. “I’ll enjoy watching you try.” He pulled her close for another kiss. “What about the girl?”

She traced her fingers around the buttons on his shirt. “Evelyn? What about her? She’s not coming along.”

I covered my mouth with my hand.

“She’s dangerous,” he said. “She recognizes me from the coach.”

“Nonsense,” Annalise said. “She never once spotted you at the soiree.”

“When I was dressed as a
servant
,” he scoffed. “I nearly dropped a fish fillet down her dress, and she still didn’t notice. But two nights ago she saw me at the masquerade. Today at the wedding, she spotted me again.”

Annalise frowned. “I told you it was reckless of you to come to the wedding. There were guests here from Danelind. You could have been seen! Shame on you.”

“I had to watch,” he growled. “I had to see that stupid, stuffed-up Leopold thinking he had made you his. It will help me, tonight, when I finish what we’ve started.”

“But you could have been seen!”

“So what if I was?” he said. “Why shouldn’t the prince of Danelind attend the wedding of the Pylandrian king and the Merlian princess? Father’s always saying I don’t tend well enough to my diplomatic duties.”

Prince Ronald of Danelind? I cycled my mind back to my geography studies. Danelind. Ronald. He was … second in line to the throne of our former enemy to the north. What was brewing here? More than an illicit liaison … 

“Oh, Ronnie, stop,” she said. “I nearly died when I saw you there in the church. Don’t gamble like that with our future.”

“If I weren’t a gambler, we wouldn’t be here,” was his reply. “I was gambling when I won your heart in the first place.”

“And I’m bringing two kingdoms with me for a dowry,” Annalise said. “Merlia is mine, and tonight, Pylander will be too.” She kissed him again, long and slow. Then she sighed. “If only you hadn’t robbed that silly coach in the first place.” Annalise tutted with her tongue. “Killing the driver? I ask you! What could be more foolish?”

“Leave my methods to me,” Ronald said, with an edge in his voice. “I told you before. Father won’t give me a drop of money past my allowance. Hiring those Rovarians and buying their silence wasn’t cheap.” His anger cooled. “A circus! Quite the cover, no? As it was, I didn’t make much selling the coach and team. But I found money in other ways.”

Annalise said nothing for a moment, but stroked his hair. “You need me to look after you, Ronnie.” She raised her body a bit, with a new thought. “Did I tell you? I had a clever idea to bring a pair of actor brothers on board tonight. It was actually Evelyn who suggested it. But it’s perfect. Throws less suspicion on us bringing the circus aboard in the first place.”

“Brothers?” the prince said. “They could get in the way.”

“Not them.” Annalise laughed. “They’re a pair of imbeciles.”

“It’s your little pet I’m worried about,” Ronnie said.

“Who, Bijou? I’ve told you, he’s not a pet.”

“No. Not your killer cobra. Your little protégé. Elizabeth?”

“Oh, Ronnie, leave Evelyn to me,” Annalise said. “She’s one of my kind. I only need time to work on her. She’ll be an ally. Be patient.”

My stomach churned. I felt sick at her betrayal. Was this where all her friendship and kindness pointed?

“She could destroy all before we’ve even started.” He sat up so that Annalise slipped off his chest and landed on the bed. “She’s a risk. You tell me not to gamble with our future, and then you keep her around.”

She ran her hand over his chest, his shoulders. “You’re ten times the man Leopold could ever be,” she whispered. “Rest easy, my love. I’ll keep her in my sights today.” She made a motion to get up. “I’d better get back before they send a search party to find me. Where will you wait?”

“I could wait here,” he mused, and my heart sank into my stomach. Please, no.

“Better not,” Annalise said, and it was the first good thing she’d said. “One of the girls might come here looking for something. Just wait with the circus performers.” She laughed. “I can’t wait to see you in your costume.”

“I can’t wait much longer for this to be done,” Ronnie said.

“Tonight, my love.” She lingered for another kiss. “You only need wait for tonight.”

Chapter 40

Annalise slipped away, leaving me once again alone in the room with the brute. Ronald. Prince of Danelind and highway robber? How could it be? It was beyond sense, but there he lay, brawny and dangerous, still sprawled upon Annalise’s bed, his chin thrust high in the air. He looked like a man savoring a sure victory close at hand.

Would he never leave?

At last he rolled himself off the bed and stretched, slowly, languidly, like a cat. And, oh, how he took his time about leaving! Wandering aimlessly about the room, wherever his curious eyes led him—to knickknacks on the mantel, to the drawer under the writing table, even to the contents of a trunk full of clothes. Not that he took anything. He simply touched it all, evaluating it, rejecting it, like one sampling a finger’s worth of every dish on the supper table, but declining to sit and honestly eat a plateful.

When he rifled through the clothes I grew truly afraid. What would stop him from browsing through the armoire? What was
wrong
with this perverse man? If he had some devilry to do elsewhere, hadn’t he ought to get on with it?

If he found me, I knew, he wouldn’t hesitate. With his two bare hands he’d kill me on the spot.

And then my leviathan, Clair, not knowing why, would perish in the sea.

My eyes filled with tears. Most strangely, this thought made me sadder than my own impending doom. I squeezed the charms around my neck and prayed for deliverance.

Ronald, the bandit prince, laid eyes on the armoire and took a lazy step forward.

So much for deliverance.

The clock on the mantel chimed another quarter hour.

He stopped and looked at the clock, then changed his course and went to the chamber door, passing out of my view. For two or three endless minutes there was silence. He hadn’t left. Nor had he come back.

But then there was a click, the faintest of sounds, like a door latching far away. I angled myself around for a better view.

I could not see him. Nor could I hear him.

For a dreadful stretch of time I waited.

At last I tumbled out the armoire door.

Sure enough, he was gone.

The clock on the mantel said three fifteen. The wedding celebration would be well underway. Afternoon sun gleamed off
The Starlight
like a warning beacon. Such a lovely ship, shaped as if carved from a single block of wood by a master’s hand, and was it to be the site of a assassination? The Circus Phantasmagoria—what was their role?

And the architects of it all were a bandit prince and my own mentor and sister serpentina. Someone I’d shared my full confidence with. Someone I’d set aside my dreams for.

What could I do? How could I stop this? Who would believe me if I told them?

The king.

I should have warned him.

I could have, after the masquerade. Or even today, I could have tried to tell him my murdering bandit was a guest at his wedding. He would have doubted, but I could have made him believe. My reasons for not trying felt so petty now.

By this time my presence at the wedding reception would surely be missed. Should I make an appearance, I wondered? How could I slip into my seat near Annalise and pretend I knew nothing about her plans? I wasn’t that good of an actress.

Actress!

Oh … 

Could I possibly … ? Would it work?

It was suicide. Almost certainly. But after my cowardice, what else could I do?

It
might
save King Leopold, and the royal house of Pylander, if my gypsy luck could hold.

I ran out the door and down the corridors, not toward the banquet, but toward the servants’ hall. Through that large hall I could exit the castle unseen by the wedding guests.

Noise of the workers’ wedding celebration reached my ears long before I found the door to the room. His Majesty’s generosity had ordered ale, roast beef, and potatoes for the staff. In happier times, this was the party where I’d feel more at home. No one here bothered with a corset. I sprinted along one side of the room, as fast as I could go, and made my way for the door.

“Evie!” a familiar voice cried just as I’d reached the bottom step out into the vegetable gardens. “What brings you here?”

Aidan must have seen me racing through the room. He ran to where I was, misjudging the distance and nearly toppling into me.

“Sorry,” he said, grinning. “I’ve been wondering where to find you.”

“Well, you’ve found me,” I said, “but I’m in a bit of a hurry.” Except I needed to pause for a breath. Curse these corsets, they barely let a girl inhale.

“You look nice today,” he said. He looked at his feet and said, slowly, like there wasn’t a king about to be murdered, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” Then he took a closer look at me. “What’s the matter? Are you all right? Evie, what’s wrong?”

I dragged him farther away from the building, beyond any listening ears. A friendly, familiar Maundley face was water in the desert to me now.

I took a deep breath to tell my tale and instead burst into tears. Confound it!

Aidan’s face melted into concern. He reached out a hand, then hesitated.

“Oh, Aidan,” I said, “I’ve been such a fool!”

His hesitation broke, and he pulled me close to him.

“There, there, Evie,” he said softly, attempting to pat my head despite all the powder in my hair. “It’s all right. It’s long forgotten.”

I wrenched myself out of his grip and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. “What? You … you think this is about
you
?”

“It isn’t?”

“No!” I shook him off. “I haven’t been a fool for
you
!” Perhaps that was a bit untrue. “This is someone else.”

His face turned violet, but he thrust out his chin. “Someone else, eh? Already? Some castle dandy?”

“No! It’s … oh, never mind. I don’t need to explain myself to you. You’re a fine one to talk. But I haven’t got time! I’ve got to get to the ship.” I took off once more for the beach.

He jogged effortlessly beside me. “Why, who’s on the ship that’s so important?”

“Nobody, yet,” I panted. I could barely think straight. My mouth just ran away with me. “It’s who will be later on. Those actor brothers, remember? Rudolpho and Alfonso?”

“Oh, them, is it?” He chewed on this information. “That just figures. Them and their curly hair, and their speechifying. Tell me, which one do you fancy, or is one as good as the other?”

We reached the beach. It was harder to run through the sand. Far across the headlands, near the boathouse, I thought I could make out La Commedia dell’Arte’s garishly painted wagon.

“Clair! Clair! I need you!” I called aloud, in case my voice carried farther than thought.

“Who’s Clair?”

“My leviathan,” I said.

“So now he has a name?”

“Yes,” I said. “He does. Do you intend to keep following me around, asking me unwelcome questions?”

He folded his arms across his chest. I noticed for the first time the Sunday suit he wore in celebration of the wedding. In Maundley, he’d be the dapper young man about town indeed.

“Unwelcome, am I?”

“Clair! Clair!” I called till my throat hurt. “Where are you?” I took a deep breath. “Oh, come on, Aidan. It’s just that I don’t have time for this right now.” I avoided his glare. “There’s something much bigger than … Oh, never mind. I’ve got to get on that ship.
Clair!
”

“Why don’t you ask your princess, then?” he said bitterly. “Or I should say, your queen.”

“She’s not my queen,” I said. “Not anymore.
Clair!
”

Aidan’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

A motion over the water caught my eye. Clair raised his shining, dripping head from the waves and bowed in greeting to both of us.

Here I am, Mistress.

Thank heaven
,
I thought.

I am ready.

For what?
I asked.

You sounded like you were calling me to battle.

How did he know?
I am. Meet me down by the boathouse in a few minutes’ time.

Up at the castle, the music stopped and didn’t resume. The celebrating voices faded. I didn’t have much time left.

“Was it a nice wedding, Evie?”

The question was so unexpected, so bizarre, coming from Aidan, that all I could do was gape at him.

“Saint Bartholemew’s,” he said. “That’s an impressive bit of stonework, that.”

I nodded. “It was a nice wedding. Saint Bart’s is magnificent.”

I looked around me at the beach, the castle, the vast city of Chalcedon, and the university towers, painted rose by the setting sun. And Aidan’s face.

He was wrong. His was a most welcome face to me, whatever fool thing he might think or say. I wanted to tell him everything, about Ronnie and Annalise and the circus and what was brewing, but if I did, he’d only prevent me from doing what I must do now. Maybe I even wanted to tell him for that very reason. But I couldn’t. I wanted to tell him to send a message of my love to Grandfather, when all was done. But we’d had that conversation once before, one that I remembered too often and too well.

If I made it onto the ship, whether I prevented a tragedy or not, I was sure I’d never see Aidan’s face again. I did not expect to survive my encounter with the bandit, his murdering lady, and their hired killers. Perhaps I could warn and help the king. But one thing was clear. If I made it onto the ship, I would almost certainly never make it off.

“Yes. Well.” Aidan looked out over the water, to where
The Starlight
was moored. “Good luck finding your actor brothers and getting on the ship, then,” he said. “As for me, I’ve had my fill of ships. Mother’s right. Don’t expect I ever will sail again. Or swim.”

I felt the sting in his words.

“Good-bye, Aidan,” I said, feeling tears once again. It took all I had to force them back. “I think you’ll become one of Chalcedon’s great builders. You’ll make your mother proud.” He watched me without speaking. “I truly wish you well. But now I have to go.”