Chapter Twenty-Eight
“No,” I whisper. I turn to Olive, who looks stricken, her face parchment white as she stares down at the paper. On each newspaper is a number written in the corner. Mine is emblazoned with a bold 1, though what I did to win, I don’t understand.
Someone is weeping across the hall. I race to Marion and Faith’s room to find Emmy in tears and Marion holding Faith in her arms.
“She killed her?” Emmy asks.
“All because of a stable boy?” Faith adds.
Greer wouldn’t have done this, so it must have been the queen, punishing us for disrespect just like she promised she would.
“We can’t let this go on—” I manage through my tight throat.
Without another word I race across the dew-damp lawn on my bare feet and in my nightdress.
My lungs scream as I climb the stairs to Emmett’s room two at a time.
But the physical pain is nothing compared to my breaking heart.
I burst through the painting on the wall and find him tying his cravat in
the mirror.
He jumps as I barrel in. “Ivy?”
For a moment I say nothing. I just stand there, trying to catch my breath, and end up sobbing instead. Big, hiccupping, body-racking sobs. Emmett races across the room and catches me in his arms before my knees hit the carpet.
“She killed her—” I gasp. My tears leave splotches all over his freshly pressed shirt. “She killed her.”
“What? What are you talking about? Breathe, please.” He lowers me to the edge of his bed. “Put your head between your legs, it will help.” He gently guides me into the position, but Pig keeps trying to climb on my lap, making it near impossible. Emmett scoops the tiny dog under one arm and with his free hand, he brushes the tears from my cheeks.
“That’s it.” He takes a deep breath. “Just breathe.”
“The—” I mean to say the queen’s lesson, but it’s as if my tongue has suddenly inflated and I’m choking on it. In my panic, I’ve forgotten I cannot tell him outright. I’m going to have to be clever about this.
Wait. “Get Faith,” I demand.
“What?”
“Just do it.”
Fifteen minutes later, Emmett comes back through the tunnels, Faith beside him. She’s still wrapped in her dressing gown, her eyes made ance parchment electric blue by the ring of red around them.mber written I stare pointedly at her. “She said we couldn’t talk to anyone else aboutdid to win, I her lessons, but she said nothing about speaking to each other.” I’m angry that it took me this long to put it together.ith’s room to “What?” Emmett mutters, confused.
“Faith,” I begin. “I desperately want to tell Emmett about the private lessons the queen has been giving us.”
Her eyes light up as realization dawns on her. “Yes, of course. We’veen, punishing been so stupid.”
I tell Faith everything I want to tell Emmett, while he listens silently behind us. I go through lesson by lesson, the maze, the etiquette class, the teamy bare feet party, the way we’ve been ranked and wounded. Emmett looks as if he might be sick as I recall the way she showed up at the cottage and threated to kill uswo at a time. if we stopped cooperating. Faith chimes in occasionally with her own details.
Finally, we reach the subject of Greer. Faith was clever enough to bring thehis cravat in newspaper along with her. She drops it on Emmett’s lap.
The blood drains from his face as he reads the headline. “She killed her for this?”ch my breath, “It has to be her. I promise you it wasn’t Greer,” I answer. There’s soobs. Emmett much regret weighing heavily in my stomach, I fear I might be sick with it allknees hit the over the floor. I should have been kinder, more forgiving. I should have asked her more questions when she brought up Joseph. I could have doneer his freshly more for her yesterday.
Emmett pulls on his coat. “Then I have to tell Bram. He won’t let thislowers me to
continue.”ill help.” He b on my lap, On the way back across the lawn, Faith reaches over and squeezes my hand.one arm and “I might owe you my life.”
I feel dead inside, like all my sorrow has burned through me, leaving
y tongue hasnothing but a husk. “Don’t mention it,” I say flatly. otten I cannotViscountess Bolingbroke and Queen Mor leave us alone in our cottage for the rest of the day. If I had to guess, she’s letting us stew in our fear and agony over the loss of Greer.
It’s long dark when a footman arrives with a summons for dinner. No lady’s maids come to get us. We dress each other in sorrowful silence and unnels, Faithcross the lawn hand in hand, all five of us in a line. yes made anThe candlelit dining room goes deadly silent as Queen Mor strides in and takes her place at the head of the table. She’s wearing a gown of forest-green ne else aboutsilk, her hair in an intricate pattern of braids. She doesn’t sit down. .” I’m angryI hate her, violently. I ball my hands into fists under the table to keep from launching myself across the table and hitting her.
All my hope now lies in Emmett’s plan, and the thought that soon I will t the privatehave the power to punish her as thoroughly as she deserves.
“I thought we’d all agreed to keep our time together between us.” Her ourse. We’vevoice booms across the space, vibrating at a frequency I feel in my rib cage.
“Today my son came to me and insisted I put an end to our lessons. He’s got stens silentlysuch a soft heart, that boy. He doesn’t share my revulsion with having a class, the teagroup of snotty little aristocrats make demands. While we may disagree on as if he mightthis, it simply isn’t worth the trouble. I’ll do it better with the next batch. ated to kill usFifty years passes by so quickly.” We shift uncomfortably at the reminder of own details.how disposable we are to her. “Your season is coming to an end early. h to bring theWithout any more lessons, I see no reason to prolong it. Bram will propose at the Kendalls’ ball Saturday evening.” he killed herThat’s the day after tomorrow. I thought I had twelve weeks to make Bram fall in love with me. We’ve had only five. Panic rises in me. I thought I r. There’s sohad more time. ick with it allEmmy’s grip on her knife tightens. Faith and Marion share a tense glance. should have“I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. I won’t forget this,” Queen Mor ld have donesays.
She sweeps out the door. “Have a pleasant dinner.” won’t let thisI can’t stand it anymore. I wait a minute or two, just long enough to be sure she’s gone, then push back from the table and walk out the door, down the stairs, and into the twilight. zes my hand.I’m waiting for the guards to stop me, but no one says a word as I stride out of the gates and onto the street. I’m not naive enough to imagine it won’t me, leavingget back to her, I simply no longer have it in me to care.
There’s a patter of footsteps behind me. I turn to find an out-of-breath ur cottage forFaith. “Ivy, slow down!” She pauses to hike up the heavy silk skirts of her our fear andevening gown, and then falls into pace by my side “Damn, you’re a fast walker. Where are you going?” r dinner. No“To see if Greer is really dead.” silence and“All right, then,” Faith says.
We walk a minute or two, until we hear more running, quick on our heels. strides in and“Wait!” Olive calls, her ginger hair flying behind her. “Wait for us!” f forest-greenA noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob escapes my mouth as I see Olive, Marion, and Emmy jogging up the street. table to keep“What are we doing?” Emmy asks.
“I’m following Ivy to make sure she doesn’t get herself killed,” Faith
at soon I willreplies.
“I’m following Faith,” Marion says. een us.” Her“I’m not letting you go on an adventure without me,” Olive says. my rib cage.Emmy gestures to herself. “Typical middle child, can’t bear to be left out. ons. He’s gotShe can’t kill all of us, there has to be someone left for him to marry.” with having aI’m properly crying now, both in sadness for Greer and overwhelmed y disagree onwith the rush of love I feel for these girls. e next batch.I keep walking, feeling braver and less hollow than before. “Let’s go, e reminder ofthen.” n end early.It takes about a half hour to reach Belgravia, and though we keep ill propose atanxiously glancing behind us, no one follows. It’s a quiet night in London, with just a few carriages trotting past us into the blue spring evening. eks to makeWe don’t bother knocking on the door of the Trummers’ grand limestone e. I thought Imansion. No one we’re looking for would be inside.
The girls follow me around back, to the mews where the horses are kept. I tense glance.knock on the side of the stable, but the door is already open. “Hello?” I ” Queen Morwhisper. “Anyone in here?”
A stable boy no older than fifteen jumps in surprise out of one of the stalls. to beHe wipes his dirty hands on his apron. “Miladies.” He offers us a startled
e door, downlittle bow.
“We’re looking for Joseph,” I say. rd as I strideThe boy takes off his cap and fidgets with it. “I’m sorry I can’t be of help. gine it won’tHe didn’t show up for work this morning. Is he in trouble?”
“Did he leave anything?” I ask.
out-of-breathThe boy looks confused. “Just a few of his tools.” skirts of her“But not all of them?” you’re a fastHe shakes his head. “I don’t think so, no.”
“Thank you. That’ll be all.”
“I thought you were going to speak to her parents,” Faith says as we walk back to the palace. on our heels.I shake my head. There’s nothing the Trummers could say to me. If I know anything about them, they’re probably inside, mourning not Greer, but mouth as I seethe loss of their social standing.
A weak smile spreads across my face. “What if they got out? What if they’re together?” killed,” Faith“Or what if she killed him too?” Marion replies. Faith elbows her.
It’s a possibility as well, one I’ve considered. “But now we have hope.
We didn’t have that before.”
I tip my face up to the stars and send a wish to my friend, wherever she to be left out.may be, that she is safe and whole, in the arms of a boy who loves her. I picture her halfway to Gretna Green by now, in the back of a carriage, in love overwhelmedand free. That is how I’ll choose to remember her.
e. “Let’s go,The guards offer no hint of displeasure as they open the gates to welcome us back to the palace grounds. The rest of the girls go back to the cottage, but I gh we keepwave them on, too restless to sit inside in front of the fire. ht in London,The gravel path is lit with torches that offer only flickering views of the expansive green lawn. nd limestone“Ivy?” a voice whispers in the dark.
“Bram?” ses are kept. IHe comes striding up the path, smiling that heartrending Bram smile, the n. “Hello?” Ione that makes him look lit from within.
“Terrible day,” he says. of one of the“The absolute worst.”
He opens his arms, and I fall into them, burying my head against his s us a startledchest. For a long while he just holds me. For once, I’m not thinking about making him fall in love with me, I’m just letting myself be held when I need it so badly. n’t be of help.He pulls back and picks up a loose curl that has fallen over my shoulder.
“I’d do anything for you, Ivy.”
I can’t help the blush that rises in my cheeks.
We crunch down the gravel path to a copse of trees by the edge of a pond, far enough from the torches that the light doesn’t reach us.
He leans in, and in that split second, all I can think of is Emmett. I’ve been trying desperately not to think about that night at the inn, but I can’t s as we walkhelp it. It comes back to me in flashes. His hands in my hair, the hungry pressure of his lips, the solid planes of his body against mine. y to me. If IBram’s lips brush mine, and I banish all thoughts of Emmett. Bram is ot Greer, butgood and kind and wants me.
I pull Bram closer to me, gripping the width of his shoulders. The kiss out? What ifgrows more urgent, and he slips his tongue behind my teeth.
He’s kissing me like he means it. My veins thrum with the knowledge of his want. Bram may be a prince, he may not even be human, but I have all the e have hope.power here.
I pull back and look at him. We’re both panting, and he’s nearly wherever sheunbearably pretty in the moonlight. I reach up and trace the line of his perfect loves her. Ieyebrows, his sharp jaw, the hollows of his cheekbones. I tuck a lock of hair riage, in lovebehind his ear to get a look up close at the slightly pointed tip.
“That’s a start,” I say.
He smiles, and I can’t help but poke his dimple. He presses his face into o welcome usmy hand. “Good. Because I do not intend for it to be the end.” cottage, but I “Where is Emmett? I didn’t see him tonight,” I ask Lottie later as she takes views of thedown my hair.
Her fingers hesitate. “He’s left. Gone on a hunting trip or something.”
He said he never had the stomach for hunting. Gone. Why didn’t he say
goodbye? am smile, the“When will he be back?”
“Not for a while, I presume. He took enough clothes for a month or two.
His valet was complaining about it all afternoon.”
“When his brother is about to get engaged? That seems odd.” d against hisLottie just shrugs. “Classic Emmett. Never found an important event he inking aboutcouldn’t weasel his way out of. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you,” Lottie says. when I need“He wrote a note to Faith. I delivered it this morning. Perhaps she has more details.” my shoulder.I frown at myself in the mirror. “Perhaps.”
“Oh!” Lottie exclaims. “Speaking of De Veres.” She pulls my note, the one addressed to Emmett’s father, out from the front pocket of her apron.
ge of a pond,“Prince Consort Edgar is also away, has been for weeks apparently.”
“Why?”
Emmett. I’veLottie’s brows furrow. “You know, it’s the strangest thing, absolutely no n, but I can’tone knows. No word has come from him at all.” , the hungryA cool breeze comes from the cracked window, but that’s not why I feel suddenly cold. I’m hit with the realization that the season is nearly over and I mett. Bram ishave been left completely on my own.
ers. The kiss
knowledge of I have all the
he’s nearly
of his perfect a lock of hair
his face into
as she takes
didn’t he say
month or two.
tant event he
” Lottie says. she has more
my note, the
“Prince Consort Edgar is also away, has been for weeks apparently.”
“Why?”
Lottie’s brows furrow. “You know, it’s the strangest thing, absolutely no one knows. No word has come from him at all.”
A cool breeze comes from the cracked window, but that’s not why I feel suddenly cold. I’m hit with the realization that the season is nearly over and I have been left completely on my own.
