A Most Extraordinary Pursuit Read Free Page B

will receive a summons tomorrow evening from the dowager duchess, which—”
    â€œI hardly think Her Grace will be in any state to consider her domestic arrangements.”
    Thump
went the imperious little fist on the arm of my chair. “You are wrong. She will summon you tomorrow and ask you to perform a service for her, and you are to refuse.”
    â€œTo
refuse
her?”
    â€œYes. Refuse her.”
    I laughed. “By what right should I refuse? Their Graces employ me to perform services for them. That is the point of my existence. I cannot simply pick and choose which commands to carry out, particularly at such a time, when Her Grace has particular need of me.”
    â€œThis is not an ordinary service, and I must
insist
you refuse.”
    â€œYou can’t
insist
anything. You don’t exist.”
    The fist struck again. “If I don’t exist, why haven’t you sat down in this armchair to dry your hair? It’s your favorite, after all. Quite the warmest spot in the room. Go ahead, disregard me.” She opened her fist and spread out her helpless, jeweled hands. “Squash me to a pulp.”
    â€œOne must be polite, even to figments of one’s imagination.”
    She sniffed again. From another woman, I might have called it a snort.
    â€œYour Majesty,” I said in a conciliatory tone, “I am deeply grateful for your advice, but I have a high regard for the dowager duchess, who has always been kind to me, and I see no reason to refuse any request with which she may honor me. The contrary, in fact. I am eager to be of whatever use I can.”
    â€œHa! Because you’re afraid you’ll get the sack, now that the duke is dead.”
    â€œThat’s not true.”
    â€œYes, it is. You were the Duke of Olympia’s personal secretary, like your father before you—God bless his loyal soul—and now the dukedom falls to a distant cousin—”
    â€œA grandnephew, hardly distant.”
    She waved her hand. “Off in the Levant or some other beastly place with too much sunshine and too little civilization. In any case, he’ll want his own secretary, and one rightly expects you’llbe sacked without notice unless you do the pretty to the dowager duchess, bowing and scraping, hoping to catch a crumb as it drops from her table.”
    â€œI am not in the habit of either bowing or scraping.” I rose from the stool and lifted my nightcap from the dressing table. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I must ready myself for bed.”
    â€œAre you really going to bind your wet hair into that nightcap?”
    â€œI seem not to have any choice, since you continue to occupy the chair before the fire.”
    â€œGo on, then.” She crossed her plump arms, and the rings flashed in the light. Her mouth turned down in that sour, widowed expression familiar to Britons across the empire.
    I gathered my hair defiantly into the nightcap and put out the lights, one by one, until only the sizzling coals illuminated us both. I banked the fire, taking care not to brush those regal woolen folds as I went, and crawled into bed with my dressing gown still belted around my waist.
    Her Majesty made not a single sound, but I felt the mass of those large blue eyes as I went, disapproving my every move, down to the order in which I turned down the lamps and the side of the bed over which I climbed to my rest. I stared quietly at the shadowed ceiling, at the faint movement of the dying fire on the plasterwork. The sheets smelled of lavender, making me drowsy. Around me, the magnificent old house creaked and whistled into slumber.
    When I woke up the next morning, the Queen was gone.

 
    The sight of the sails filled the Lady with sorrow, for she knew they had arrived in respect of a yearly tribute her kingdom exacted on the conquered people of Athens, which required that unfortunate city to sacrifice seven of its fairest young people in slavery