The Princess and the Rogue (3 page)

The last thing she remembered was being in the marketplace. She’d stopped at a stall, one she had not seen before. It sold perfumes, scents for ladies. The stall had seemed out of place, too rich for a village market like Kern’s, but the proprietor had noticed her. He had been insistent that she try some. She had protested that she couldn’t afford his wares and the good sisters would think it vain and foolish. But the smiling proprietor had been tenacious, and the sisters had been off on an errand to buy a cow while she did the shopping. So she giggled and let herself be persuaded to try an exotic scent. He put two drops on her arm and bade her breathe deeply. And then… nothing. All had faded to blackness. Now, she was here in this bed, and that’s all she knew.

Footsteps approached the chamber and Scarlett shrank back at the sound, covering herself tighter. But when the door was flung open, several maids entered bearing clothing and hot water. The oldest, dressed better than the others, was clearly some sort of supervisor. She informed Scarlett that they were there to assist her in her bath and dress. After that there would be breakfast, and later an audience with their mistress.

Scarlett marveled at the clothes. They were richer than anything she’d ever worn. Even the underwear. It was silk. Of that she was sure. The gown was a forest green and it complemented her hair, which was taken up and styled into an elegant bun, just like she’d seen on noblewomen. And the breakfast! There were delicate pastries and honey, succulent pears, sausage of some sort, and cream. It was more food than she could possibly eat.

Afterwards she was escorted to see the person they had referred to as ‘the mistress.’ Scarlett was understandably nervous. What on earth would such a person want with the likes of her? Then she stopped and put her hand to her mouth. She felt her heart pounding. There was only one person in these parts who had the wealth to live like this.
The red countess! It had to be. But why?
She was just a simple country girl. Why lavish all of this on her? Her thought was interrupted. They had arrived at a door and her escort was knocking. The door opened and she was guided inside.

Waiting for her was a beautiful woman whom Scarlett judged to be in her forties. She wore a red velvet gown of exquisite taste and craftsmanship, bedecked with jewels. Her hair was black and straight, parted down the middle and her skin was white. An aquiline aristocratic nose was set off by high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes that fixed Scarlett with a gaze of such intensity that it made her think of a hawk staring down its prey.

Scarlett stopped short, suddenly very apprehensive.

But the woman smiled. “Come in, my dear. Don’t be afraid.”

Cautiously, Scarlett entered the room. “How did I come to be here? What is this place? Why am I dressed this way?” she said.

“So many questions, my dear. All will be answered in good time. First, how you came to be here was that you came willingly after we found you in the village, wandering from stall to stall on market day. This place is my private residence, and I am a loyal subject of King Robert. That is all you need to know for now.”

Scarlett was not reassured. “But Sister Bernice and Sister Patricia, they will wonder where I am. I must be on my way back to the convent, I have chores, meals to prepare, I…”

Morgaine silenced her with a finger to Scarlett’s lips. “It is all arranged. The sisters have been informed of your whereabouts.” The lie poured smoothly from Morgaine’s lips.

Scarlett didn’t know if she believed that. And the story about her coming willingly—had she? All she could remember was the stall selling scents.

To Scarlett it was all bewildering. Why on earth had she been brought here and treated so?

“Now to business. Please sit.” The countess motioned her toward a divan, while a chair was brought over for Scarlett by a footman.

“I know you have many questions and all will be answered, but first let me ask you a question. How would you like to be a princess?”

“I don’t understand. I’m just a commoner, an orphan. I can never be royalty,” said Scarlett.

“But you can be. Let me explain,” said the countess. “Juliet Greystone is King Robert’s daughter. She looks a lot like you. In fact, you could pass for twins. But this is the hard part. Princess Juliet is ill, and she must be taken to a place of healing where special doctors can attend to her. At the same time, all must appear normal in King Robert’s household. The people must not fear that something has happened to their beloved princess. For reasons you would not understand, it is important that appearances be maintained. You must trust me on this. It is for the good of the realm.”

Scarlett heard the explanation, but didn’t fully understand. If the princess were sick, that was unfortunate, but people got sick all the time and needed doctors.

“And so, until the princess recovers, the king needs someone to be the princess, to take over her day-to-day life as though nothing were amiss. Do you see?”

Scarlett didn’t see, but she now understood what she was being asked to do. “You want me to take the princess’s place? To be her?”

“Yes,” said Morgaine. “No one will know except a few close to the high minister. He will be the one to guide you in this mission.”

“But the sisters at St. Agnes—they need me. I can’t leave them,” Scarlett protested.

“The sisters will be provided for, if you perform this task that your king has asked you to do.” Morgaine cocked her head and narrowed her eyes as she delivered this last bit of explanation, which to Scarlett sounded like a command.

The full implication sank in. What amounted to the only family she had ever known would be taken care of if she would do this thing. How could she refuse? The king had commanded it.

“Yes,” said Scarlett. “What must I do?”

Morgaine smiled. “Why, you must learn to be a princess, of course.”

Chapter Four

Outside Greystone Castle, two weeks later

Juliet liked to ride. In fact, she fancied herself an expert horsewoman. Her father had forbidden her to ride alone, but he had been feeling poorly, which gave her a golden opportunity. As she frequently did when her father was present, she dressed in boy’s clothes and snuck out of her quarters, right under the watchful eye of Dame Frida, her nursemaid since birth and frequent chaperone, to steal her way to the stables. Once there, she commanded Johan, a stable boy, to saddle Flower, her favorite horse—and to tell no one lest he invoke her wrath. And just like that, she was off on Flower. The plan worked so well that she repeated the escape on a regular basis. She would feign tiredness late in the afternoon, retire to her quarters, and change clothing, only to sneak out moments later. She would return in time for the evening meal, with no one the wiser. What she did not see were watchful eyes following her every movement.

At first she was not alarmed when approached by the four riders as she was on her way returning home. Sunset was coming and she wanted to be sure that her father did not notice her absence. As they came closer she began to be alarmed. Before she realized what rough-looking fellows they were, it was too late to run. They came straight for her and boxed her in before she even had a chance.

“So,” said their leader, “a stable lad on a fine horse. It can’t be yours.”

“It’s my horse,” she snorted. “Now get out of my way.” She was about to tell them who she was, then thought better of it.Such an admission would put an end to these adventures. She would be watched constantly after that, with no chance to do this again.

“Oh, ho. It’s not a lad at all, but a young girl,” said the leader. “What are you doing out here alone, girl?”

Juliet decided to say nothing.

“What’s the penalty for horse stealing in these parts, lads?” asked the leader, twisting about in his saddle to survey his men.

“Hanging, I’m sure,” said one of the men. “Or maybe, because she’s a girl, just a good whipping on her tender rump.”

The eyes of the others lit up at that prospect. Underneath the page’s plain leggings and tunic they could see the curves of her womanly figure.

“I’m sure she has a fine ass, men, and I know you’d love to see it duly thrashed, but we must be about our business.”

Juliet saw him reach for something in his saddlebag. It looked like a hood. Before she could react, he’d slipped it over her head. There was a curious scent that she had never smelled before. Then her world went black.

* * *

Greystone Castle, that same day

Scarlett arrived under cover of darkness, as if returning late from a ride in the country on her horse. She hardly knew anything about horses and had been terrified when the countess’s men had told her she’d have to ride one. It was the princess’s own horse. Scarlett did not ask how they had procured the animal.

They had arrived to within sight of the town of Kingsgate and Greystone Castle that evening in a wagon, and the horse was brought forward on a lead. It was then that she was told that she’d have to ride it back to the castle. Up to that point, her experience with beasts of burden had been limited to leading the convent’s poor donkey about. Fortunately, the horse knew the way and when they released her at the edge of the woods, she merely hung on as Flower headed for her familiar stable. Unfortunately, the guard of the watch spotted her and she had some explaining to do to her housekeeper and servants.

Her heart pounding, wondering if the deception would work, she stumbled through an explanation. “Oh, I lost track of the time,” she said. “Am I late for supper? Well, then, just bring it to me in my quarters.” To her amazement, no one said a thing. Her staff knew better than to question or contradict the mercurial princess so they merely obeyed. Morgaine had said they would.

“Command, always command. They will obey you. They have to,” said Morgaine. The countess and her courtiers had counseled Scarlett on how to act like a princess. From how to act with servants, to what silverware to use, to courtly manners, they had stuffed Scarlett’s head with information until she thought she’d burst. But Scarlett was a quick study. After all, she could read and write, having been well taught by the good sisters.

So as the imposter settled into her new life as Princess Juliet, how could she know that the real princess was having a very different experience?

* * *

Bathen Castle

Where was she? The days had been a blur. It had been hard to tell the difference between night and day. Most of the time she’d been trussed up in the back of a wagon. They kept her asleep by forcing her to drink some type of potion that made her drowsy. She had no idea how many days it had been since her abduction. Because that is what had happened. Juliet realized now the rocking of the wagon had stopped and she’d been unceremoniously dumped into this place. But what was this place? Who had done this and why? She was the princess of the realm. This was not supposed to happen.

Now as the faint light of dawn streamed in through a window, she rose on one elbow and looked around, trying to assess her situation. She was in a large room. All around her were platforms in alcoves supporting sleeping figures. They looked like young women. She looked down at herself and ran her fingers across the plain cotton shift that she wore. Someone had stripped her out of the page’s clothing and dressed her in this. She blushed as she thought of the implication. Who had done that?

She fell back on the rough sleeping platform, woozy still, only to be awakened by a loud noise.

“Wake up! Wake up! Everyone up. Time to go to work.”

Juliet saw a beefy woman in the dress of a servant banging a pot with a spoon. She had flung open the door to the room and was now yelling at everyone. The sleepy girls started to arise. Now was her time to announce her identity. Then they would rue the day they’d been born.

“Stop,” she commanded. “You there,” she said, addressing the woman with the pot and spoon. “I would see your master immediately.”

The woman stopped, put her hands on her hips, and cocked her head in amazement.

“And who might you be?” she said, her expression one of disbelief that she would be challenged by one of her charges.

Juliet drew herself up and proclaimed, “I am Princess Juliet of Greystone. My father is King Robert and I demand to be taken out of this place. I demand to see your master, and I demand to be treated in a manner worthy of my station. There has been a hideous crime perpetrated on my person, and those responsible for keeping me in this condition will be severely dealt with. Do you understand?”

For a moment there was dead silence. The other girls, all of whom were young, watched wild-eyed. Some put their hands to their mouths, barely daring to breathe. Juliet looked about, wondering what they were all afraid of.

“You’re the new one, aren’t you? Brought in last night, were you?” She was nodding, a thin smile on her face. The smile changed to a frown, and she shook the spoon at Juliet. “You listen to me, missy. If you’re a princess, I’m the queen of the five kingdoms. You’ll keep your tongue in your head if you know what’s good for you. You want to see my master? There is no master. There’s my mistress, and if you keep this up, you’ll meet her soon enough. You won’t like it, either.”

That just made Juliet angry. She stomped her foot. “Who do you think you are to question me, woman? I am a royal princess and I demand your obedience now. Now go and get this mistress of yours at once. Bring her to me immediately, or I’ll have your head!”

One of the girls sidled up to Juliet and whispered to her, “Please. Do not aggravate Moll. You will get us all punished. We are going to be late as it is.”

Juliet had not noticed that, as she turned her head to listen, Moll had advanced quickly. She was jerked away as the woman grabbed her by the arm.

“Just what do you think you are doing?” Juliet practically screamed.