Palace of Spies (36 page)

“Thank you for taking my turn at waiting tonight,” I said to Mary, making sure to keep my head rigidly still.

“Not at all.” Mary held up the pearl and peridot bracelet. It was a pretty thing, and I rather liked it. However, this loan was understood to be of long duration. Those of us in waiting to the royal family were kept to a strict schedule. We had three months on duty, followed by a month off, during which we might return to our family homes, if we had them. This might not sound terribly onerous, but we were expected to be in attendance between six and seven days each week. If it was a state occasion, a day could stretch to twenty hours out of the twenty-four. Maids of honor, like the other “women of the bedchamber,” could take a day off only as long as at least two of us remained in attendance. This resulted in the trading of all sorts of favors and small valuables in return for time.

“But poor Mr. Phelps!” Mary fastened the bracelet onto her slender wrist and turned it around, testing how well the gold and jewels glistened in the candlelight. Mary had the alabaster skin, sloping shoulders, and pale eyes expected of the Maid of Honor Type. She carried the looks, and the style, with an ease I envied. “He will be quite distraught when he sees me wearing his gift instead of you!”

“Well, you’ll just have to soothe his spirits, won’t you?” I will not deny that there was a certain amount of ulterior motive in my choice of which bracelet to “loan” Mary. Mr. Phelps was one of the many court gentlemen I had to tolerate, but not one I wished to encourage.

“Perhaps I will. He certainly has excellent taste.” Mary leaned in toward the glass, touching her patches. This blocked Libby’s view and caused my maid to eye her last silver pin, and Mary’s neck, thoughtfully. “I note you have not yet smoothed things over with our Sophy.”

“As a good Christian maid, I know I should turn the other cheek, but both mine are already burned.” When Sophy Howe thought I was Lady Francesca, she had done her best to make my life miserable. Now that she knew I was a mere “miss” rather than a titled lady, she seemed to take my continued existence as a personal insult.

“And you will have heard by now that Molly Lepell has returned,” Mary went on, with a great and obvious show of insouciance.

“Oh? How is she?” I strove to match Mary’s unconcern, and failed. First, because no one could match Mary Bellenden when it came to complete and marvelous unconcern for others. Second, because Molly Lepell had been the closest thing to a friend as I had at court. Unfortunately, that friendship had been formed while she believed I was someone else. When it was revealed just how badly I’d been lying to her, and the rest of the world, Molly did not take it well. She’d left the court for her interlude at home before I’d found a chance to try to mend things.

“I’m sure I couldn’t tell how she is.” Mary turned a bright eye toward me. “You need to apply to quite a different quarter to find out what little nothings Molly Lepell whispers these days.”

“Mary, what are you talking about?” My patience was stretched dangerously thin. Miss Bellenden might have nothing better to do than flirt and gossip tonight, but I was under orders to make peace out of a private war with a man I detested.

“It seems that while she was at home and out of our tender care, a certain gentleman quite captured Molly’s attention.”

That stopped all other thoughts dead in their tracks. “Molly Lepell’s forming an attachment?” It was Molly who had warned me against losing my heart to any man at court. I found the idea that she might have abandoned her own excellent advice more than a bit disturbing.

“It sounds absurd, doesn’t it? I thought her quite impervious.” Mary fussed with the fashion-mandated three tiers of lace ruffles trailing from her sleeves, making sure they fell in such a way that they would not obscure her new bracelet. “But I know what I saw, and what I saw was anything but impervious.” She tipped me a happy wink. “I fear that with all that’s going on, you’re going to have to work very hard to recapture anyone’s attention, Peggy. I am so looking forward to seeing what invention strikes.” She dropped a quick kiss on my cheek and sailed out of my closet under a wind of cheerful anticipation as strong as the one that blew her in.

“Invention,” snorted Libby. “She knows too much about invention for her own good, that one.”

“She’s all right,” I answered, somewhat distractedly. Mary Bellenden was indeed all right, simply because she was uncomplicated. She sailed through life as well as doorways. Molly Lepell was another matter. She was beautiful, of course, but she was also deeply intelligent and practical regarding court matters. I wondered who had found her heart. I wondered if he was worthy. I wondered if I’d ever get a chance to explain myself to her, and to be her friend again.

“Oh, Peggy!” Mary’s voice rang quite unexpectedly from my outer chamber. “You’ve a visitor.”

“What?” I struggled to my feet, ignoring Libby’s annoyed exclamations. “Who? The Pierponts aren’t due for two hours yet . . .” Could it be Molly?

But the youth I caught in the act of straightening up from the bow he made to Mary Bellenden was no member of my family, much less a maid of honor.

“Heaven defend us,” I croaked as the blood drained out of my painted cheeks.

This man was tall and slender, with arresting blue eyes set into a hatchet-sharp face. He was the Honorable Mr. Sebastian Sandford. I met Mr. Sandford in spring, when he attempted unceremoniously to seduce me at a birthday party. When seduction failed, he, with equal lack of ceremony, attempted rape.

He also happened to be my betrothed.

S
ARAH
Z
ETTEL
is an award-winning science fiction, fantasy, romance, and mystery writer and the author of the American Fairy trilogy. She is married to a rocket scientist and has a cat named Buffy the Vermin Slayer. Visit her at
www.sarahzettel.com
.