P. Elrod - The Hanged Man

“I’ll see about it after the New Year, but you’ll still have to be in a mask. You don’t want them knowing who you are. The smarter ones will guess, but they’ll know it’s in their best interest to keep silent.”

“How can you be part of this vileness?” Alex demanded.

“How can I not?” Andrina snapped back. “Foreign revolutionaries spew poison on every corner. Instead of land owners of substance, every oaf of a certain age has a vote and they’re swilling the poison like gin. With the way things are going there will be no monarchy left in ten years. I’m doing all I can to protect the queen.”

Teddy misinterpreted Alex’s expression. “Oh, don’t worry, females will still have their vote, but only those who own land or are connected by marriage or family to land. It’s the only sensible compromise.”

Alex sensed the sincere righteousness from them both and it made her sick.

Family, bloody family .

Disgusted and abruptly tired, Alex swayed and stumbled, her long delayed weariness finally asserting itself. One of the guards reached for her. She weakly batted him away, but he grasped her arm and held her up.

Through the gloves he wore, through the fabric of her dress, through the impotent fury roiling in her, his emotions intruded like a clarion. She caught her breath and focused on him.

“It’s all right, miss,” said Brook through the mask. “Steady now.”

“That’s Lady Pendlebury to you,” Teddy lightly admonished. “Do you want him to carry you, Alex?”

She shook off Brook’s hand the same as she might for a real guard. New strength surged into her. “I’m fine. How much farther?”

“Not long now.”

They’d left the activity of the waiting staff far behind. This was no longer a hall branching to rooms, but a dank, silent tunnel with a much lower ceiling. The bricks were older, crumbling, with a path trodden through fallen debris on the floor. It led to an aged stairway, the wood gone black, the treads slippery and worn in the middle. She counted steps and worked out that they were back up to street level. That was a relief. The oppressive darkness had pressed on her heart more than she cared to admit.

The last landing was in good order with gas lighting. A single sconce burned steadily, the hiss a welcome sound of modern life after the century-old murk below. Teddy unlatched a plain door and they entered a well-appointed study. The door supported a bookcase on its other side and, when closed, it matched another such case a few feet away. Substantial furniture, masterly paintings of hunting scenes, trophies, sporting equipment, and weapons were on display, all jarringly familiar. Many an evening after a shooting competition she’d come here with the Hollifields for a sherry before dining. It was his lordship’s retreat from the rest of the vast house.

“We’re at Berkeley Square,” she said in astonishment, at the same time passing the information to Brook.

“Hollifield is rather proud of the tunnel system,” said Teddy, moving toward a drinks cabinet. “It’s been there for ages. They knew how to build during the Regency. Made things to last. You look in need of a refreshment. Whiskey?”

“Where is Lady Hollifield?”

“Probably still at Buck House with her royal in-laws. Holiday dinners do drag on.”

“And the beast you used as a threat against her?”

“There’s one in a closed coach with its keepers making slow circles of this area.”

“How many of those have you?”

“Enough.”

“There must be a timetable for this treason.”

“Not your concern.”

“You won’t remain in a subordinate position to any of those men.”

Teddy smiled, offering a short wide glass with a generous portion of whiskey. She accepted it but did not drink. He passed another to Andrina. “I’m sure they each think the same of themselves. The problem in dealing with such fellows is that they all want to be the king of the hill. That’s how they got into positions of power and influence in the first place. Their loyalty to the crown is an exploitable weakness, though. They’ll stop short of visiting harm on the royal family.”

“And you won’t?”

“No one is more concerned for their safety than I, especially that of our queen’s charming granddaughter Charlotte. The girl is of marriageable age, and she’s heard nothing but good things about me.” He smiled and tilted his glass toward his sister.

Andrina was pleased. “As a trusted lady-in-waiting I have had considerable influence.”

“And instrumental in achieving many helpful goals. Andrina would like nothing better than a tangible connection to the royal family. How happy to be sister-in-law to the heir to the throne. An encounter between myself and Princess Charlotte earlier this month at a ball went off very well. I cut an appealing figure. Nice of her grandmother to set a precedent by marrying a peer for love. Dear me, Cousin, you show disdain.”

“I know Charlotte. She’s no fool.”

“I know her better,” said Andrina, sinking into a chair. “Teddy struck just the right notes. She speaks of no one else.”

“Girls in love are always fools,” he said. “Show the right kind of attention and they fall in love in an instant. Be she a princess in a gilded tower or a violet seller in the street, let a female think she’s the center of a man’s life and she’ll gallop down the aisle like a derby favorite when the tapes go up. No use curling your lip, Alex, it’s how they’re made. You’re the exception, but then you’ve always been odd.”

“A fact I delight in.”

Teddy opened a window with a view of Berkeley Square, lighted a lamp, and put it on the sill. A freezing draught stirred the curtains.

“Why, that-that’s one of my gowns!” Andrina found her feet and stalked over.

Alex almost laughed. Of all the things to fix upon. “Thank you for the loan. It fit me perfectly.”

“You ruined it, you-you gutter drab! How dare you? What else did you steal?”

The petty rage was refreshing. “Your peace of mind.”

“W-what? What do you mean?”

“I went through every wardrobe in your rooms, every drawer, every box.”

Andrina’s face underwent a disturbing transformation, her skin going sickly green, then flushing red with fury, eyes wide, teeth bared. She lunged at Alex but Teddy got there first and half carried her back to the chair and dropped her in it. She abruptly subsided, glaring like Medusa.

Alex’s internal armor was solidly in place. A look like that might not kill, but the emotion behind it could knock her right over.

“You girls,” said Teddy, exasperated. “Nothing changes.”

Andrina continued to glare. Alex matched it. Her cousin’s reaction seemed out of proportion to the crime. Considering the emptiness of her life, the outer trappings she acquired to conceal it would be of greater importance to her than to another woman. To Alex, it was just a dress; to Andrina it was part of her soul.

Alex remembered the pity she’d felt for her cousin after picking up on the layers of emotions coating that old treasure box. It impossible to feel the same with Andrina just steps away looking ready to spit acid.

Teddy seemed to sense it. “Andrina, show a little control. You won’t ever see her again. That should give you some satisfaction. Your old feud is over. You’ve won.”

“I’ll have won when she’s dead.”

The venom in that statement made him look twice. “Don’t lower yourself to her level. She’s nothing. There are more important matters to think about. Did you cover your absence from the palace tonight?”

“Yes, it’s fine. No one questions a digestive upset. I’ll be back tomorrow right as rain. You should come. Wear your new morning suit.”