The Mystic Marriage (20 page)

They quickly disappeared into the surging crowd, moving like a practiced team. Margerit peered anxiously through the lowered window in the carriage door. How would they find their targets in such confusion? How long would it take to discover if they were even there? They reappeared at last with the suddenness of a duck emerging from the bottom of a pond. Margerit barely had time to draw back from the door when it was pulled open and three bodies tumbled or were pushed in. Barbara had lost the little braided cap that matched her jacket and her tawny hair had come half-unpinned. Efriturik’s mouth was bloodied and his collar hung half-loose from his cravat. He looked completely bewildered. Only Marken had emerged completely unscathed.

Barbara pushed a finger into Efriturik’s chest, demanding, “Where is Aukustin?”

The bewildered look deepened. “Chustin? Is that what this is about? I sent him about his business before we ever left the palace grounds. Look for him wherever he goes to sulk, for he was none too pleased about it.”

Barbara leaned back with a relieved sigh. She awkwardly sheathed the thin, decorative sword she was still holding and then rapped on the roof of the carriage for the driver to start.

There was silence for a block or two, then Efriturik burst out, “Do you think I’m so great a villain as to take a boy his age to that place?”

“And yet,” Barbara said coldly, “you’re so great a fool as to go there yourself unaccompanied.”

“Unaccompanied?” he protested. “There were five of us. And Charlin and Henrik both had their—what do you call—their armed men.”

“And where are your friends now? And those armins? Their duty was to extract their charges from danger, not to look after you. Which they did. No one grudges you your amusements, but I told you before there are rules to the game and you need to take care for your position. Do you expect anyone else to respect your rank when you don’t respect it enough to be properly attended? Hire yourself an armin, a good one. One that understands there are more hazards for you in Rotenek than tavern brawls. If something has happened to Aukustin, who do you think will be blamed?”

He looked taken aback at that but said only, “You’re a fine one to lecture me about following the rules. I thought you, at least, had moved past all these gothic rituals and restrictions.”

There was a muffled sound from the opposite seat, where Marken had once again become invisible. It might have been laughter.

Barbara said coolly, “I have no expectation of inheriting a throne.”

But the argument sounded weak and there was no further conversation until they returned through the palace gates and were greeted with the news that Aukustin had, after all, been found safe in his bed when checked a second time.

Chapter Fifteen

Jeanne

The entertainments were far from slowing when Jeanne returned home but she found it hard to pretend to a festive mood. Sleep came fitfully as it had so many nights.

When she woke in the darkness there was nothing to tell whether minutes or hours had passed. Had there been a noise? She strained her ears listening to the creaks of the house, the faint whistling of the icy wind, the occasional pop from the hearth and through it all the soft snoring of Marien from her bed in the dressing room next door.

Jeanne pulled the covers closer and turned to find sleep once more, when the sound came again: a tapping from the French doors to the narrow balcony that overlooked the back garden. Too regular for a branch in the wind. The wrong time both of year and night for a bird entranced by its own reflection. She rose, pulling on the dressing gown that lay across the end of the bedstead, and went to draw back the curtains.

A ghostly head floated before her, gaunt and pale, its lips moving soundlessly. Jeanne shrieked in the terror of having all her fears confirmed. In the next moment, even as she heard Marien calling out from the next room, she pulled open the doors with a glad cry. “Antuniet! Whatever are you doing there?” The spectral head was explained by a dark, high-necked dress, but the gauntness and pallor… That was real. Jeanne grasped her by the shoulders and quickly drew her in. “Did you climb up by the vine? But why? You could have rung. Tomric would have let you in.”

It took a few minutes in the warmth of the room for Antuniet’s teeth to stop chattering enough to answer. Enough time to reassure Marien and send her off for a glass of brandy. “I didn’t want to be seen coming here,” Antuniet said at last. “They’re still watching for me. There was someone at the end of the street; I don’t think he saw me come around the back. Didn’t want to make trouble for you, but—”

“Don’t be absurd!” Jeanne countered. “I’ve been worried sick. Where have you been?” She guided Antuniet into the chair by the hearth and rubbed her hands together as Marien returned with the brandy and poked up the fire.

Antuniet looked up, asking, “How much do you know of what happened that day…when I disappeared?”

“I know Kreiser’s men broke into your house and—”

“Anna,” Antuniet asked suddenly. “Is she—”

“She’s…better,” Jeanne said hesitantly. The details could wait. “They killed poor Iakup. And there was no sign of you. We all thought…Barbara had men out searching for days. She still has them watching for you anywhere you might turn up. I’m sure that was who you saw out on the street. But where have you been?”

When Antuniet was warmed and fortified by the brandy, the story emerged, in fits and starts. “I was out of my head with a fever…I don’t know how long. A riverman—I don’t really remember how he found me but he took me to Saint Iulin’s hospital, downriver just outside the city walls. They cared for me with no questions asked, but eventually I had no excuse to stay longer. This seemed the best evening to move about the city unnoticed. If I could just have a place to sleep for the night? I promise I’ll be gone in the morning, but I need to retrieve my property from Tiporsel House.”

“Gone?” Jeanne asked. “But why? You can stay as long as you need.”

“I don’t want to make trouble for you.”

“You said that before and it still makes no sense. What trouble could—”

“I bring disaster on everyone and everything I touch!” Antuniet burst out. “Just let me go and be well rid of me!”

There was no question of that, but Jeanne knew there was no use arguing at the moment. Morning would bring more sense. “Of course you can sleep here tonight. And then tomorrow I can take you anywhere you need to go. Marien?”

“We’d need to make up a bed and a fire in one of the guest rooms,” Marien offered, “but if Maisetra Chazillen doesn’t mind she could take my bed and I’ll go upstairs to sleep. She looks so done in that I’d hate to make her wait.”

Indeed, Antuniet had begun shaking again and practicality took over from hospitality. “Then that’s what we’ll do and thank you for the offer.” Of course, it meant Marien could also save another wakeful hour spent seeing to the room. “Come,” she said, holding a hand out to help Antuniet up from the chair.

Antuniet stared at her finger. “That ring…”

Jeanne glanced down. “Oh!” She’d almost forgotten it was there, that it wasn’t hers. “I hope you don’t mind. I—I wanted to keep you in my thoughts and—” She twisted it off and held it out. Antuniet took it and looked back and forth from the ring to her. “I didn’t mean to keep it,” Jeanne apologized.

“It doesn’t matter,” Antuniet said, handing it back. “Keep it. Keep all of them.”

Jeanne slipped the ring back on, vowing to return it to the bag of gems in the morning. “Come, get some sleep. Things will look better in daylight.”

* * *

There was screaming in the dark. Jeanne stumbled out of bed and lit a lamp to see her way into the windowless dressing room. She set the lamp down and shook Antuniet by the shoulder. “Wake up! Wake up, it’s only a dream.” A thunder of feet came down the stairs and along the corridor and she looked over her shoulder to reassure Marien. “It’s nothing. Go back to bed.”

Antuniet cried out once more and jerked upright. “No!”

“Hush, hush, Toneke, it’s only a dream. Only a nightmare.” Jeanne sat on the edge of the bed and took Antuniet in her arms as if she were a child. “It isn’t real.”

“It is. It was.” She spoke as if still lost in sleep.

“Shh, what did you dream? Telling it aloud will break it.”

Antuniet twisted in her arms. “I saw my mother…accusing me. I was locked in the dark; I couldn’t get away. And she was there beside me, all stiff and cold. And then her hand raised and pointed at me.” There was a deep shuddering breath. “She—I found her, you know, after she…when it was all over. She made certain I was the one who would find her. She didn’t think the servants should have to—”

“Shh, that’s all past. She isn’t here now.” How many ghosts were haunting her? How long had she kept all this without a soul to share the horror? “What could she accuse you of? You’ve done nothing.”

“But that’s it: I’ve done nothing.” Antuniet’s voice came muddled through the edge of sleep. Likely she’d remember none of this in the morning. “I’ve done nothing of what I promised her. I promised—I swore over her body—that I’d wipe out what Estefen had done. I’d bring honor back to the family. And I’ve done nothing—worse than nothing.” Her voice caught in a sob.

Jeanne held her even more tightly. She remembered Iosifin Chazillen well. Remembered the look on her face when she gave the final damning evidence at her son’s trial. Remembered the shock, but no surprise, at the news of her suicide. What must it have been like to have a mother who valued honor over her children’s lives? Over her own life? To the rest of the world it had seemed tragically noble, but such a ghost to have haunting one! “You’ve done everything you can, Toneke. You’ve survived. And your work will succeed; I know it.”

She started to loosen her hold, but Antuniet cried out, “Don’t leave me alone! Don’t leave me in the dark!”

“Hush, I won’t leave you,” Jeanne said. “Go back to sleep. I’ll stay and keep watch over you.”

She laid Antuniet down again and tucked the covers closely around her. In the soft glow of the lamplight her face gradually relaxed into sleep once more. The fear faded away and only the weariness remained, but in that face Jeanne could still see the bones of the sharp wit and sardonic humor that had always attracted her, the spark of passion that was only released in the safety of her studies. She leaned forward to brush a strand of hair out of Antuniet’s face and froze.

When had this happened? When had teasing and idle flirtation deepened into something more? She sat back, searching her memory. If she had foreseen it, she would have guarded her heart more carefully. There was nothing for her here. Antuniet wasn’t some nobody to be courted or seduced and then sent on her way with a parting gift—that wasn’t how Jeanne wanted her. Nor could she be approached as a knowing and experienced lover. Antuniet hadn’t found her flirtation offensive, only embarrassing. But a serious declaration of love…that would be a different matter. Could she learn to be the friend that Antuniet needed and to be no more than a friend?

She recalled the last time she had misjudged her heart and fallen unwisely in love. That summer with Barbara… The ache had faded eventually and they were friends now—it could be done. And Antuniet… She had barely begun to trust the offer of friendship; might she someday accept more? Oh, they always crept up on her unawares, the ones who were far more than a pretty face and a pleasant armful. She sighed at her own folly. In echo, Antuniet moaned and turned as if trying to escape the demons in the dark. “Shh, shh, I’m here. I won’t leave you,” Jeanne whispered. She lay down on top of the coverlet beside her and held her close until she quieted. “I’ll keep you safe tonight.” Eventually, she too slept.

Morning arrived stiff and cold. Jeanne carefully unwrapped herself from around Antuniet and slipped out to seek her own bed. It would embarrass them both for her to be found there.

Chapter Sixteen

Barbara

After the excitement of the night before, it wasn’t a morning for early rising. Barbara rolled up onto one elbow in the bed and leaned across Margerit to pour another cup from the chocolate pot on the little side table. She paused to leave a kiss in passing.

“Mmm, you could have asked me to pour,” Margerit said.

“But that wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.” The pastries had long since disappeared into a few lingering crumbs and the sounds of the household below tolled an approaching end to their lazy intimacy.

Margerit’s expression turned from playful to thoughtful as she returned to last night’s events. “Efriturik was right, you know. You can hardly scold him for not maintaining the dignity of his rank when you give so little care to your own. Someone else will have to convince him of that.”

Barbara sighed. “My reputation is built on eccentricity. And it’s not as if I need someone else’s protection—”

“—except when you go charging into tavern brawls wearing a ball gown. You always tell me to trust Marken’s instincts and you know what he thinks.”

The arguments were all true. She thought back to the times she’d borrowed Marken even briefly for show or safety. That wasn’t fair to him or any of them. And yet…“I dread the thought of bringing someone new so closely into our lives. An armin isn’t like hiring a new kitchen maid. It may not be his place to approve or disapprove, but I need to be able to trust him. He’ll know all our secrets and have your good name in his keeping as well as my own. Marken knew us back before. That makes a difference.”

Margerit drew a hand down along Barbara’s cheek to acknowledge the point, and Barbara pressed it against her lips. “Just promise me you’ll think about it,” Margerit said.

“I’ll do better than that.” She rolled out of the bed and pulled the bell. Maitelen answered with an alacrity that suggested she thought it past time to be moving on with the day. “Lay out my riding clothes, the breeches and the blue coat.” She turned back to Margerit. “I’ll go off to Perret’s this very morning and after my practice I’ll ask him to start looking for possibilities. He’ll know who’s good and who’s looking for a position.”