Chapter Twenty-One
Marion jumps to her feet in protest. Greer’s face turns bright red with rage.
Olive bursts into tears. Emmy just laughs, hysterical on the edge of a scream.
Only Faith appears unaffected, perfectly still, her mind somewhere far from her body.
The queen bends to dig into the basket at her side. One by one she pulls out our samplers from today’s trial and passes them to us.
In various states of completion, they’re speckled with blood from our pricked fingers. In the middle of each is a number stitched neatly in crimson thread.
There’s a 6 on mine. I glance at Marion’s, a 6 as well. We’ve all tied for last place.
The queen gives Olive hers last, and I’m shocked to see it emblazoned with a bloodred 1.
I think back to earlier this afternoon when she ran back up the stairs claiming to have lost a bracelet. That little snake. I didn’t know Olive had it in her. Honestly, I’m a little proud.
“You’ll join Bram for a ball at Count Doncaster’s the day after tomorrow, before we all leave for Hampshire. There will be a hunt this weekend.” She claps her hands together and grins until each and every one of her teeth is showing. “What fun we’ll have.”
Olive—with her sweet face and red hair and croissants. How foolish we were to discount her.
The door slams behind the queen as she leaves us alone in tense silence.
The cottage is small and stifling. Olive looks as if she’d like to sink into the floor.
Chaos erupts as Greer launches herself across the room. Olive screeches as Greer snatches at her hair, pulling hard enough to wrench her head back.
Olive flails and screams, “Get her off of me!”
It takes both Faith and Emmy to restrain Greer, who is shaking, her fists full of ginger hair.
Olive gathers her skirts to make a break for the stairs, but I grab her butterfly wings and yank her back. “Don’t you dare,” I snap.
Olive bursts into crocodile tears, blubbering in the way we’ve all given her sympathy for.
“There wasn’t a bracelet, was there?” Emmy asks, more betrayed than
angry.
“You don’t understand.” Olive sniffs.
“What don’t we understand?” I ask.ed with rage.
Olive looks to each of us, one by one, then blurts, “I love him!”of a scream.
Faith bursts out laughing. “How could you possibly love him?”here far from Olive juts out her bottom lip. “I just do. It was love at first sight. You’re all so jaded, like it makes you clever, but it just makes you bitter.”one she pulls “So you what, lied to us about a bracelet and completed more tasks upstairs?” Greer asks.od from our “I only played one more song on the pianoforte,” Olive whines.ly in crimson “But it was enough to put you ahead of the rest of us,” Greer shoots back.
Olive rips off her butterfly wings and stomps up the stairs. “Blame theve all tied for queen, not me.”
“Get back here!” Marion shouts.emblazoned Olive pauses on the stairs, then turns around and plops down on the ground in the sitting room, a scowl on her face.up the stairs “So what do we do now?” Marion asks. “We all signed up with theOlive had it knowledge that we’d never take a husband if Bram didn’t choose us, but I would never have agreed to this if I knew my family would be doomed toer tomorrow, poverty, or worse, if I lost.”eekend.” She “Agreed,” Greer says. “My mother won’t survive it.”f her teeth is Emmy nods emphatically. “My parents, my siblings . . . I can’t fail them like this.”w foolish we “So what do we do?” Marion prompts again.
“We could stab her in her horrible little back,” Faith grumbles, now fullytense silence. horizontal, staring up at the ceiling.sink into the “If anyone figures out how to make that possible, I’m all ears,” Marion jokes. I nearly choke.ive screeches “What if we all make an agreement,” Olive offers, her voice small.
“Whoever wins will be a princess, right? She can petition the queen to rethink the punishment of the other girls’ families.”king, her fists There’s a beat of silence as we think on it.
ut I grab her“We could be sure to ask her while she’s in a good mood,” Emmy says.
“In front of Bram!” Greer adds excitedly. ’ve all givenYou could be queen.
A familiar feeling curdles in my stomach. I have to win, not just to betrayed thanprotect my family, whose titles are all the protection they have, but to protect everyone. If Emmett and the others get this right, we could unseat the queen, end her centuries of torture, and I could ensure everyone in this room and their families are safe from her.
This is the first time she’s directly threatened our lives. If her patience with us is wearing thin enough to consider being rid of us completely, there is
sight. You’reno room for error.
I have to find a way to tell Emmett. d more tasks“Deal.” I stick out my hand to shake.
“Deal.” Emmy agrees.
“Wait, how do the boys do it?” Marion asks. Then she spits into the palm shoots back.of her hand. . “Blame theThe rest of us follow suit and clap our sticky hands, one on top of another. Even Olive and Greer. The dying embers of the fireplace flicker, and the comradery feels crystallized, but I know it will fracture tomorrow once down on theBram is in front of us and reality sets in.
“May the best girl win,” Marion says gravely. up with the“May the best girl win,” the rest of us agree. us, but I e doomed toThe Doncasters’ ball is a decidedly dull affair. The count is pushing ninety, and his stifling manor doesn’t exactly encourage merrymaking.
Viscountess Bolingbroke is in the drawing room playing whist with some an’t fail themelderly friends, so I wander off to go find Emmett. This isn’t the kind of thing he’d usually deign to attend, but I caught a glimpse of him earlier, sneaking in through a side door in a navy-blue waistcoat. es, now fullyI’m wandering down a corridor of closed doors, far from the noise of the
ballroom, when I hear his voice. ars,” Marion“Emmett?” I hiss.
I get no reply, but hear the low rumble again. I swing open a door just in voice small.time to see him lean in to kiss Faith Fairchild. the queen toI jump back as if I’ve been burned, then close the door silently. Neither Emmett nor Faith even realized I was there.
My heart is pounding as I exit the long hall and, in a daze, go to the
garden to catch my breath. My skin is too hot. I need to be outside.
I lean both hands against the cool stone balcony and wipe at my stinging eyes. The sound of blood rushing in my head is so loud, I don’t hear Bram
toapproach. but to protect“Are you quite well?” at the queen,I must not look it, because when I turn to him, his perfect face crumples his room andin concern.
It’s like I can’t catch my breath. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t her patiencefeel panicked, not since the Pact Parade, at least. That’s what this season has etely, there isbeen: a perpetual drowning.
“Just breathe,” Bram whispers. “I’ve got you.”
I’ve got to get it together. I don’t need Emmett. I can do this all by myself. “I’m afraid I’ve rolled my ankle,” I lie. “Can you take a look?”
“Of course,” he answers. into the palmThe others glare as he walks me inside and lowers me to a chair. He kneels at my feet and reaches under the lilac purple layers of my skirts to ne on top ofrotate the joint a few times. “Does that hurt?” he asks. e flicker, and“I think I’ll survive,” I answer. “This party is awfully dull. Is there morrow oncesomewhere else we can go?”
He glances around. “A few of the men were talking about leaving for the club.”
Every gentleman in London belongs to a private club where they gather to dine, drink, and gamble. shing ninety,I hop up and walk toward the line of carriages in the drive. “Then let’s go.” ist with someBram smiles. “Lead the way.” I grin. I didn’t actually expect him to say kind of thingyes. He holds my hand as we hop into the carriage out front, no sense of ier, sneakinghesitation in him.
Once inside, Bram sighs against the plush seats and pulls my ankle into e noise of thehis lap. “It’s good to keep it elevated,” he explains.
“Do your healing powers extend to twisted ankles?”
He smirks. “But that’s so much less fun than this.” He trails a finger a door just inaround the hollow of my ankle. Warmth pools in my belly and my cheeks flush. ntly. Neither“I never got the chance to properly thank you for the book.” I change the topic, so nervous suddenly, it’s difficult to look him in the eye. ze, go to theThe corners of his mouth tug into a smile. “I’m just pleased to have the
opportunity to do something for you.” t my stinging“Where did you get it?” I’m too curious not to ask. ’t hear Bram“An old friend.”
The carriage slows as we approach his club. Like the other members of the royal family, Bram belongs to Kendall’s, which on the outside looks like ace crumplesany number of the luxurious town houses in Mayfair, but covers the whole city block. time I didn’tI heard a rumor that the owner, Lord Bexham, used his bargain for better is season hashouse odds and gave up his hair. He denies it, but I’ve seen him without a hat, and I’m inclined to believe it.
I crane my head as I follow Bram, taking it all in. The box beam ceilings o this all byare dotted with crystal chandeliers, the walls are covered in art depicting hunting dogs and elegant horses. Women generally aren’t allowed in places like this, but no one is going to say that to the Prince of Wales. Tomorrow the a chair. Hegossip mill will be set alight by news of my being here, and for once I can’t my skirts towait. Let the whole town know I’m his favorite.
“Should I call for dinner?” he asks. “We can use one of the private dull. Is thererooms.”
I muster every bit of false confidence I have. This needs to be as public as aving for thepossible. “No. I want you to teach me to play poker.” Bram looks down at me and grins. e they gatherThe cardroom goes silent as I walk in on his arm.
I smile sweetly and blink away the cigar smoke burning my eyes. Bram . “Then let’sknows everyone. He circles the room, clapping men on their shoulders.
“How’s your wife?” he asks a younger-looking man in a top hat. ct him to say“Better, thank you, Your Majesty.” no sense ofI look up at Bram. “What did you do?”
“I sent a private physician to check on his wife. It was nothing, just a my ankle intofriendly favor.”
Another man approaches. “My mother-in-law loved the azalea bush you had planted. Positively cannot stop talking about it.” rails a fingerBram waves his hands like it’s nothing. “Give her my best.” d my cheeks“His mother-in-law?” I whisper under my breath.
“The Duchess of Marlborough. A mostly bedbound widow but an I change theabsolute genius at puzzles. I stop by from time to time. Thought I’d give her something nice to look at from her window.” d to have theWe sit down at one of the green-felt tables. This room is paneled in dark
wood and covered from end to end in plush maroon carpet.
There are a dozen or so tables, all surrounded by men in crisp cravats and impeccably tailored coats. I recognize a few of my father’s old chums and members ofbusiness associates. de looks likeBram greets the other men at our table warmly. “Ah, Perkins!” He looks ers the wholeto the man next to us, then waves over a waiter. He knows everyone’s drinks, goes around the table ordering them, then gets to me. “Champagne, right?” ain for betterThe waiter hurries off, but Bram snaps his finger, and dark red port im without amagically appears in Perkins’s water glass.
Perkins takes a sip, then grimaces. “Why is it sour?” he asks. Everyone beam ceilingsdissolves into uproarious laughter. art depictingBram shrugs good-naturedly. “I’m afraid my gifts are limited, Perkins!” wed in placesFrom somewhere in the far corner a cry goes out. Someone shouts.
Tomorrow the“What’s that?” I gesture in the direction of the game that seems to be once I can’tgoing wrong.
“Don’t worry about it,” Bram says tightly. f the privateThe dealer flicks us our cards.
There’s a flash of movement. The man who was shouting at the other e as public astable throws himself at Bram’s feet. His hands are clasped in prayer, his head s down at meon Bram’s lap. “Please, please, Your Highness. Speak to your mother for me.
I’ll do anything!”
Bram stands up. “This is neither the time nor the place. My mother’s y eyes. Brambusiness is her own.”
A guard wraps his arms around the man and pulls him away from Bram.
“Please!” he yells as he’s dragged out of the room. “I made the bargain on the twenty-third of July, 1826. It’s ruined me! I’ve already lost my family. My estate is all I have left. She tricked me! Ask her for mercy!” othing, just aThe activity in the gambling hall starts right back up, as if nothing is out of the ordinary. lea bush you“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Bram says grimly.
I place my hands on the smooth edge of the table to keep them from shaking. “Does that happen often?”
There’s a sadness in his eyes. “I don’t agree with all the things my mother dow but andoes, but they make the bargains of their own accord. I cannot help them.”
I’d give her“Are you ready, milords?” the dealer asks. “And . . . milady,” he adds awkwardly. neled in dark“Please, continue,” Bram replies smoothly.
I place my hand on Bram’s knee under the table, more desperate than cravats andever to win his affection. I can hardly stand to think about Emmett right now, d chums andbut if he’s right and I’m the only hope of putting an end to this, I cannot fail.
“Which one is this?” asks Lord something-or-other as the cards are ns!” He looksredealt. one’s drinks,“Lord Hambleton, may I present Lady Ivy Benton,” Bram answers curtly.
I nod my head, but Lord Hambleton goes back to his cards. “I thought the dark red portother one was prettier. Trummer’s daughter, isn’t it? Or your brother’s ballerina?” ks. EveryoneBram glares. “That’s not any way to speak in front of a lady.”
“Well, she’s not supposed to be here, is she?” the lord grumbles.
My chest burns hot with embarrassment, but I keep on smiling sweetly.
The dealer flips over the first card. “Remind me what a full house is,” I seems to bewhisper to Bram as an excuse to get close to him.
“Three of a kind and two of another,” Bram whispers back. “We can go if you want.”
I lay a hand on his upper arm. “No, no, I’d like to stay.” at the otherWe circle the table, giving bets. My hand is rubbish, but I can bluff. “I yer, his headcall.” other for me.“On whose money?” Lord Hambleton scoffs. “Your father’s line of credit was cut off years ago.”
My mother’s“That’s enough,” Bram says coldly.
“You don’t need to stand up for me,” I reply. “He is right.” y from Bram.“She’s playing on my account, and you’ll treat her with the respect she argain on thedeserves,” Bram says loud enough that heads turn around the room. “I call.” y family. MyThe dealer pulls another card. The queen of hearts. We go around the table again in tense silence. I raise. Lord Hambleton scoffs audibly. nothing is out“She’s welcome to spend every last shilling I have,” Bram says. “Which, if I recall correctly, is several million more than you.”
I fold on the next go-round. My hand is bad, and I don’t need Bram to p them fromdefend me over nothing.
Bram and Hambleton go back and forth for a while, but Hambleton takes gs my motherit in the end. He extends both arms to pull the pot of chips toward him, and I catch a glimpse of something in his sleeve. dy,” he addsWithout thinking, I lean over and yank an ace out of the silk lining of his jacket. The table goes still. “You were cheating,” I say.
“You bitch,” Hambleton snarls.
esperate thanThere’s a mighty crash behind me as a chair is toppled and Bram ett right now,launches himself at Hambleton, throwing his body against the table and sending chips flying. Bram punches him once in the face, then again. The he cards arelord’s nose cracks, sending a spray of blood across the cards.
swers curtly.
“I thought the our brother’s
ling sweetly. house is,” I
We can go if
can bluff. “I
line of credit
e respect she
o around the
ays. “Which,
need Bram to
mbleton takes rd him, and I
lining of his
There’s a mighty crash behind me as a chair is toppled and Bram launches himself at Hambleton, throwing his body against the table and sending chips flying. Bram punches him once in the face, then again. The lord’s nose cracks, sending a spray of blood across the cards.
