Page 4 of What A Rogue Wants (Lords Of Deception #1)
Two
One Year Later
Windsor Castle
“Lady Madelaine, your stitch is off again.” Queen Charlotte jabbed her needle into her material and set her embroidery hoop on her lap. “Hand it to me.”
With a quick glance at the queen’s disapproving stare, Madelaine dismissed the idea of summoning tears. The notion had been ridiculous anyway. After a year at Court she knew better. The queen disliked her and no amount of crying would ever change that.
“Are you defying me, Lady Madelaine?” Polite iciness, and perhaps a tad of hopefulness, underlay the queen’s words.
Was she? Her fingers curled around her wood hoop. Did she dare disobey the queen? Her heartbeat banged in her ears. She could do it. Then she’d be ousted from Court and back home where she actually had a friend, instead of here surrounded by a hateful queen and equally cold ladies-in-waiting.
Life would be grand. The fantasy disappeared, as always. Home was no escape. The worry she saw on her father’s face the few times he’d visited her at Court would become worse if she was sent home. She’d rather endure the lectures and the loneliness than further sadden him.
The thumping in her ears lessened as her fingers loosened and she handed her embroidery hoop to the queen.
“What’s this?” the queen demanded.
She swallowed her pride, huge, bitter pill that it was. “A disgrace, Your Majesty.”
The queen’s eyebrows raised high. “Yours, to be sure.”
A spattering of nasty giggles erupted around Madelaine.
She should pretend not to notice, really she should.
But she just couldn’t do it. Her pride was definitely going to be her downfall.
Or perhaps her temper. It was an ongoing debate in her head.
She shot an icy glare to each lady who dared to meet her narrowed gaze.
Only three ladies out of four today? My, the odds were improving.
If she dismissed support as a requirement in a friend she could now count Lady Elizabeth Adlard, whose gaze was focused on her lap, as a friend.
Madelaine nearly laughed. Ah, well, at least Lady Elizabeth didn’t join in mocking her.
Queen Charlotte stood, her silk skirts falling in a swish at her ankles as she did. She handed Madelaine’s now bare embroidery hoop to her. “Redo this and then you may join us in the library and play the pianoforte for me.”
Madelaine gnashed her teeth. The queen truly had it in for her today.
She was worse at the pianoforte than she was at embroidery.
Yet there was a bit of hope. By the time she redid her stitches the queen could well be tired of listening to music and might want to go for a walk through the gardens or a leisurely ride.
Madelaine brightened considerably. She could walk and sit with the best of them.
“I’ll come to the library as soon as I’m finished. ”
“One hour,” the queen commanded and exited the room with the rest of the ladies on her heel.
Well, all the ladies save one, but Grace, with her venomous personality, was hardly a lady in Madelaine’s mind.
“Did you forget your pitchfork, Grace?” Madelaine had learned the hard way to strike first. She’d been the brunt of too many of Grace’s hurtful comments to sit and wait like a fool for Grace’s razor-sharp tongue to lash her.
“Lady Grace.” Lady Grace Frost enunciated each word like only someone who truly wasn’t a lady would do.
“So you keep saying,” Madelaine murmured, “yet it seems to me true ladies have kind hearts.”
“Be sure to work slowly, Madge. I’ve a bit of a headache and don’t think I can tolerate your pounding on the keys today.”
In swirl of skirts and blonde hair, Grace was gone.
Madelaine snatched up her needle and spool of thread and furiously pushed the pin into the fabric while indulging the fantasy that Grace was the fabric.
It was stupid to let Grace upset her. That’s exactly what she wanted.
Yet Madelaine was upset, foolish or not.
When the clock struck the hour, Madelaine stuffed her hoop into her embroidery box and trudged down the hall.
Lost in her own thoughts, it wasn’t until she was at the library door that she realized how quiet it was.
She entered the library and could not help but gape at the empty room.
Finally, she’d hit on a bit of luck in a year of providence drought.
She gazed at the rows of thousands of books, and a sliver of anticipation raced through her.
She hurried toward the bookcase, but as her fingertips touched the first spine, the distinct creak of the door being opened filled the room.
Her shoulders slumped. How ridiculously silly of her to hope for five whole minutes alone.
“I’m coming.” It was hard to make her tone falsely pleasant.
“Is that disappointment I hear?”
Madelaine whirled toward the door and blinked. Lady Elizabeth, with her head of curly black hair and light blue eyes, smiled at her. “I’m not disappointed,” Madelaine lied.
“Really? I’d be if I’d thought I was going to be alone for a bit and then my hopes were dashed.”
That was exactly how Madelaine felt, and this was the first time in a year anyone had made an effort to have an actual friendly conversation with her.
She could protect herself from further hurt and ignore Lady Elizabeth or she could take a chance and reach for the olive-branch.
She was always one for taking a chance. “Did the queen send you to retrieve me?”
Lady Elizabeth grew serious. “Worse. I’m to take you to the tower where you’re to be whipped for insubordination.”
“What?” Madelaine’s stomach plummeted.
Lady Elizabeth moved further into the room and took Madelaine’s free hand in her own. She studied Madelaine. “Yes. Didn’t you know? A lady who cannot properly embroider must be banished from polite society until she can master the skill.”
Madelaine gripped her embroidery box tighter to her side with her left arm and swallowed the catch that had suddenly come up in her throat. “It’s just embroidery.”
Lady Elizabeth shrugged. “Yes, but you messed up the precious pink peony. No more chances for you.” The corners of Lady Elizabeth’s mouth tugged into a smile.
Madelaine slowly released her breath, too happy that Lady Elizabeth had been teasing her to be angry. “I didn’t know you had a sense of humor.”
“I’m terribly funny, once you get to know me. You should have seen your face.”
“I can imagine.” Madelaine pressed her hand to her chest. “For a moment, my heart stopped.”
“Oh dear. I’m sorry. I was only teasing. Come, we better go. Oh, and Her Majesty says to leave your embroidery.”
“Does she now? You expect me to believe the queen means to be kind to me? I may be gullible but I’m not a fool.” She hated how prickly she sounded, but her nerves were already on edge.
“No more foolery. I promise. We’re to take an invigorating walk in the gardens since the weather’s unusually warm. The queen is beside herself at the prospect of pointing out new plants to us.”
“A punishment worse than the tower.” The minute the words left Madelaine’s mouth she froze. Had she gone too far?
“I know!” Lady Elizabeth burst out laughing. Madelaine’s immense relief made her laugh almost hysterically.
“The queen will be most displeased to hear what I just have,” a voice said from the doorway.
Madelaine abruptly stopped laughing and met Grace’s hostile stare. If she pleaded, it would only give Grace satisfaction and make matters worse. She watched as Lady Elizabeth flew across the room.
“Lady Grace, please. She’ll throw us from Court.”
“I imagine she will.” Grace untangled her arm from Lady Elizabeth’s desperate clutch.
“Please, you mustn’t say a word.” Lady Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder at Madelaine. “We meant no harm.”
Madelaine fought the urge to intervene, clenching her teeth on her need to speak.
“It sounded harmful to me,” Grace said.
Unable to stand the helplessness and Lady Elizabeth’s groveling a moment longer, Madelaine blurted, “I’ll buy your silence with my quarterly allowance.”
“How much?” Grace demanded.
“Ten pounds.”
“Not enough.”
“I’ll recommend you to my brother,” Lady Elizabeth pleaded.
Lady Grace’s eyes narrowed. “Which brother?”
“Whichever you prefer.” Lady Elizabeth turned deathly pale.
“Well, Lord Foxhaven is the heir, but Lord Grey does thrill me to the bone every time with just one look.”
Madelaine wanted to silence Grace’s viperous tongue, but the way she had in mind wouldn’t garner her in any better favor with the queen. Proper ladies did not resort to violence. Oh, how she wished she didn’t have to be a proper lady.
Lady Elizabeth sighed. “Fine. I’ll post a letter to Grey tonight.
“That’ll do nicely. Yet I require one more thing.”
“What is it?” Lady Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped and her voice shook.
Grace gave Madelaine a narrow-eyed look. “No more speaking to her, unless it’s to insult her, of course.”
Madelaine’s pulse shot from a simmer to a boil, but she struggled to keep her face relaxed.
She ignored Grace’s stare and instead looked at Lady Elizabeth and tried to convey with a quick smile that it was all right.
It wasn’t at all, but she’d never let Lady Elizabeth know that.
A tear trickled down Lady Elizabeth’s cheek which she quickly dashed away.
“I understand,” she whispered, dropped her arms and walked out the door.
Grace stared at Madelaine from across the room. “I’ll expect your allowance in my hands by nightfall.”
“I’d expect no less from the likes of you,” Madelaine replied. A small sense of satisfaction filled her as Grace opened and closed her mouth. No doubt the ninny struggled to find some nasty words to say. Too bad she wasn’t quick-witted. Grace settled on a glare, turned and departed the room.
Madelaine stood for a moment with nothing but the crackle of the fire as her company. It seemed worse somehow to have found a possible friend and then lost her so suddenly than to have never had a friend at all. At least before, she had become numb to the cruelty of the other ladies-in-waiting.
She hated this place. But she couldn’t begrudge her father.
He’d done what he thought best for his odd daughter.
He wanted her married and had judged she needed all the help she could get to finally learn to be a proper lady since she’d failed miserably to become one when her mother was alive.
If only she had tried harder, not caused her mother so much heartache. Her heart twisted with memories.
A commotion at the door drew her attention back to the area. The chambermaid with the red hair swept in. “I need to draw the curtains.”
Madelaine glanced at the windows and frowned. The curtains were all drawn wide.
The chambermaid laughed. “Sorry, my lady. I meant I need to straighten the pillows.”
To Madelaine’s eye not a single pillow in the room was out of place, but she waved the woman into the room. “Constance, correct?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Were you lingering outside the room this entire time?” She hated to be accusatory, but she needed to be pragmatic. Silence may need to be bought. Her skin crawled at her thoughts. She was becoming a true member of this wretched Court.
“Certainly not, my lady.” The woman’s voice held indignation, but her eyes darted with her lies. It was on the tip of Madelaine’s tongue to offer Constance coin, but then Madelaine remembered she now had no coin to offer. It was all due to Lady Grace. This was awful.
She pasted a sweet smile on her face, though she felt like screaming. “If you did happen to overhear anything, I hope you know how grateful I’d be, how willing to help you it would make me, if you kept your silence.”
Constance cleared her throat. “I didn’t hear a thing, my lady.”
Madelaine clenched her fist. Falsehoods. This entire Court was filled with people who had been raised to lie.
The all too familiar sting of hurt pierced Madelaine’s heart.
She had to get out of here before she became someone she did not recognize in an effort to simply defend herself from those around her.
The problem was she had to have an offer of marriage before her father would allow her to leave the Court, and as far as she could tell the men at Court with their freely roaming hands and whispered innuendos wanted a whore—not a wife.