Stephanie Laurens (4 page)

“Hmm.” He frowned. “So we could characterize these attacks as an extreme case of bridal nerves and nothing more.”

Nell nodded. “We could.” She smoothed one hand along the arm of the chair. “Mama and I suspect that, in the circumstances, and with four days still to go, we need to explain at least some of this to Frederick. He’s already noticed, and he must be wondering.”

“He is.” Robert met her eyes as she glanced up. When she arched her brows, he hesitated, then nodded. “All right. I’ll speak with him and make sure he understands. Which leads to my next question, which will also be Frederick’s next question—how should he behave during these attacks?”

“Essentially as my father did. Frederick won’t be able to ignore the attacks, but he absolutely mustn’t react to them by drawing back himself. That only gives the attacks a sort of internal credence, and will most likely make things worse. He needs to stand firm and not let Frances physically pull away. If he accepts that the attack is happening, but that it’s nonsensical and irrelevant and will be over soon, and simply smiles, nods, speaks soothingly, and goes on as if the attack hasn’t happened, that’s the surest way to snap Frances out of it, and all will be well.”

Robert spent some moments digesting that, then nodded. “All right. As Frederick is deeply attached to Frances, I don’t foresee any problem in enlisting his aid, especially as this is purely a case of temporary and understandable nervy panics.” He saw Nell’s lips twitch upward, and permitted himself a self-deprecating smile; he was, indeed, already framing the situation in diplomatic language. “Let’s assume we—me, you, and Frederick—are all apprised and acting in concert. I assume we can count on your parents if need be?”

“Yes, but they will only be with us during the evening events.”

“Indeed. So is there anything we can do to . . . avoid the attacks, or minimize their severity?”

“We—Mama and I—think distraction might work. If we can fill Frances’s days with events that keep her actively engaged and entertained, we believe that will reduce the scope for an attack.”

He nodded. “That has a certain logic. What events are most likely to engage her interest?”

“As Mama reminded me, Frances and I are much alike, so what would work for me . . .”

Frances and I are much alike.
Robert’s brain seized on the words, focused on them—and their implications. All of him stilled. The Vayne family failing had manifested in Frances as a pulling back, a drawing back from the man she loved, even though she loved him and wanted to marry him. Frances’s attacks had started earlier, further ahead of the wedding, than her family had expected. And no Vayne lady had ever escaped the curse.

Nell was as much of a Vayne as Frances. And Nell and Frances were much alike in many ways . . .

While Nell sat in the chair and talked, listing various excursions and events she felt would provide suitable distraction, and some part of his mind listened and cataloged, and he nodded every now and then, most of his mind, certainly all of his attention, followed her earlier revelations to the inescapable conclusion . . .

A conclusion that rocked him. That shattered his perceptions of their past, and reformed them.

Leaving him with a new and novel perspective.

A much more accurate view of how things had been.

Dragging a breath into lungs suddenly tight, he refocused on Nell.

To discover her looking at him quizzically.

His mind caught up with her words; he nodded. “We can arrange most of that, and yes, I think we should.” Rising, he crossed to the desk, found a sheet of paper and a pencil, picked up a ledger for her to use as a support, and returned to her. He handed her the items. “Let’s make a list.”

While she settled the ledger on the chair arm, smoothed out the paper and lifted the pencil, he sat, and ruthlessly forced his mind to the matter at hand. “Let’s do it day by day, and crowd as much into each day as we can.”

Eyes on her list, she nodded. “So—tomorrow.”

“W
ell!” Nell let herself fall into the armchair in Robert’s study. “That went better than I’d dared hope. One attack only, and that relatively minor—and I have to compliment you. Whatever you told Frederick, however you phrased it, must have been exactly right. He came up trumps, and you may pass on from me that he isn’t doing himself any harm at all in Frances’s eyes.”

Smiling, Robert came to sit in the other armchair. “I’ll let him know. He was quite nervous, although I know it didn’t show. But he did, indeed, hold the line admirably.”

He’d brought their list of events, now superimposed on the affianced couple’s official schedule. It was presently mid afternoon, and he’d suggested they seize the half an hour between their last event—a viewing of the castle’s stables and kennels—and a formal afternoon tea to be attended by all the young ladies of the court to review their upcoming arrangements. He perused the revised schedule. “After this tea—and if Frances is immersed and entertained, we can extend the event until half an hour before the dressing gong—then we have the formal drawing room and dinner with all the ambassadors.” He glanced at Nell. “I’ll do my best to keep the ambassadors and envoys circling, but several are pompous old windbags, so be prepared to step in and divert any who linger too long. A few—the Russian envoy, for one, and the French ambassador almost certainly—will attempt to monopolize our pair. While Frederick won’t need to leave Frances’s side, it would be best if between us, we—you and I, because your parents will be fully engaged themselves—try to ensure one of us is there to back Frederick up at any time.”

He grimaced. “I have this persistent vision of one of the ambassadors deciding to buttonhole Frederick and draw him aside while I’m not by to stop it, effectively forcing Frederick to leave Frances standing there alone.”

Nell frowned. “What about the wives? They’ll be there, won’t they?”

“Yes, but they don’t generally come forward. At these sort of events they usually gather like a flock of geese and sit and cackle at one end of the room.”

“With a new and shiny princess-to-be in their midst?” Nell threw him a look. “Leave it to me—and Mama. We’ll have them with their gloved hands on their husbands’ arms, sticking like glue to get as much time as they can with Frances. As they’ll be intent on her and Frederick in a personal sense, and not interested in anything political, I should think their presence will restrict their spouses’ ability to turn the conversation to political affairs.”

He widened his eyes. “I hadn’t thought of that, but you might well be right.” He nodded. “I’ll leave the wives to you.”

Raising the schedule, he studied the following events. “After dinner, there’ll be dancing in the ballroom.”

“That will be no problem at all—Frances loves to dance, and as I recall so does Frederick.”

Robert nodded. “So with luck we’ll weather tonight well enough, and then tomorrow we have the visit to the orphanage, and then the guilds’ luncheon at the Rathaus, and after that we’ve slotted in visits to a weaving factory, then the silk merchants’ warehouse, and last but not least, to the crown jewelers.” He glanced up. “That’s going to be quite a day.”

Nell nodded happily. “Yes, it is, and the curse is going to have to fight for an opening. Excellent!” She rose and shook out her skirts.

Rising, too, Robert laid aside the list and just looked at her for a moment—a rare moment when she wasn’t looking at him.

Then she looked up and met his eyes. Searched them, then said, “It’s time I fetched Frances and Mama for the tea.”

He smiled. “Indeed.” He waved her to the door. “I’ll go downstairs and make sure all’s in readiness.”

He followed her out of the study and they parted, each to do their part in managing the Vayne family failing.

T
he following day, they maneuvered to sit alongside each other at the end of one table at the luncheon the town’s guild masters hosted to toast the royal bride and groom.

When the speeches got under way, at the center of the high table Frances sat, apparently rapt, alongside Frederick, whose protective tendencies had only grown more marked with every passing hour, especially as Frances seemed to be increasingly leaning on him to help her through her panicky flutters. Which, Nell felt, was an unexpected boon.

Satisfied her sister was as well-guarded as she might be, when Robert drew a sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and smoothed it out, Nell readily consented to turn her attention to their plans for the afternoon.

Having realized that she had an excellent memory for names, Robert duly filled her in as to whom they would meet that afternoon at the weaving factory, the silk warehouse, and the jewelers. “I estimate we’ll get back to the castle only just in time to change for dinner. It’s a family dinner tonight—only Frederick’s immediate family and yours.”

“Good.” Nell sat back and met Robert’s eyes. Steady gray eyes, stubborn square chin. He was as she remembered him, but with depth, or was it new facets? No—more like previously hidden depths that were now more discernible. She smiled. “We’ve done very well so far. Especially this morning. The orphanage was fun—I think they can be certain that Frances will want to become their patron.”

Relaxing in his chair, Robert smiled back, and wondered if she had any idea how revealing her interest in the children at the orphanage had been. Although Frances had certainly been interested, too, she had largely followed in Nell’s shadow. In truth, it was Nell who truly commanded the innate graciousness associated with a duke’s daughter; she had just the right touch, leaving those she dealt with feeling honored, without in any way making an issue of her status.

Nell’s gaze had drifted back to the guild master currently at the podium, leaving him free to let his gaze rest on her, to let his mind dwell on what he’d finally understood about the unraveling of their romance long ago.

As his gaze traced her face, he felt the determination to make a bid, again, for the only lady he’d ever wanted as his own well and harden.

“There you are, my dears.” Valeria drifted up, setting a languid hand on Nell’s and Robert’s shoulders. She smiled at Nell as Nell glanced up, then, as Nell returned her gaze to the speaker, Valeria met Robert’s gaze. And nodded. “You’re doing very well.”

With a pat on his shoulder, Valeria drifted on.

Robert blinked, looked again at Nell, and wondered at the ambiguity he’d detected in her mother’s words.

“O
ne more day.” Perched sidesaddle on a sweet black mare, Nell cantered alongside Robert, mounted on a raking gray. She nodded ahead to where Frances and Frederick were bowling along in a gig, with Frederick teaching Frances to manage the ribbons. “Teaching Frances to drive was an inspired notion. With luck, that will keep her entirely engrossed on the drive out, and the drive home again. And what with the lunch at the hunting lodge, then the visit to the farm, while I hardly dare to suggest it, we might reach tonight—or to be more precise, tomorrow’s dawn—without major incident.”

“The dinners tonight are private and separate,” Robert said. “Your family at one, and Frederick’s at another. No real likelihood of any untoward occurrence there, so once we get back to the castle this afternoon—”

“Oh, no—I’m not counting my chickens until tonight, until Frances retreats into her bedchamber and closes the door.”

Robert grinned. His gaze returned to Frances. They’d let the gig draw ahead. “She’s only had three minor episodes since we started our campaign of distraction, and Frederick’s managed all three by himself.”

“He’s been more sympathetic than I expected him to be.” Nell’s gaze, too, dwelled on Frederick’s and Frances’s heads. “I feel even more confident than I was before that they’ll truly have a wonderful marriage.”

Robert made no reply, not that she’d expected one. About them, the morning had waxed warm, but a breeze off the river kept temperatures pleasant. Birds trilled and swooped in the hedgerows they passed, and the rich scent of grain ripening in the sun teased their senses.

“There’s a lookout on that ridge ahead. They can’t reach it in the gig—but we can.” Robert met her gaze as she glanced at him. “You said it yourself—Frances is unlikely to have any difficulty while she’s concentrating so hard on learning to drive.” Tipping his head toward the ridge, he smiled, unvoiced challenge in his eyes. “We can ride down the other side and rejoin the party, and the view from up there is said to be the best in Lautenberg.”

She laughed. “All right. I can see you’re searching for a reason to let your mount stretch his legs.” She waved. “Lead on.”

Robert drew aside, spoke briefly to the captain of the honor guard of six riders following their Prince, then he urged his gray away and down a narrow track; perched on her black, Nell followed.

Once off the road, they let their mounts stretch into an easy gallop. The track they were following led into a forest; they slowed as, now a narrower bridle path, the track climbed the ridge in a series of switchbacks.

Eventually, they reached the top of the ridge and Robert led the way over and into the wide clearing carved out on the side of the hill. Before them, lush green fields stretched to either side, to the distant blue line of the Mosel on their right, and all the way to the cloud-hazed mountains that marked the border with Luxembourg to the left.

He reined in and Nell halted her mare beside his gray. She looked out, eagerly scanning. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips lush and ripe, her large, dark-pansy eyes bright with eager interest. He considered the sight, then swung down from the saddle.

She looked at him questioningly as he came to lift her down.

“We can sit for a little while. The road will take them around and over a pass—it’ll be some time before they reach the stretch below us.”

Her lips formed an “oh” and she slid her boots free, then allowed him to close his hands about her waist and swing her down.

She lost her breath. He was watching, so saw it, but pretended he hadn’t.

Releasing her, he waved to the view. “Come—I’ll point out the sights.”

She didn’t attempt any verbal response, just nodded and walked beside him to the edge of the cliff.