Page 14 of The Favourite

“Well, then, you must allow me to convince you,” the Queen rallied, “for I am quite persuaded that this would solve all of our problems in one fell swoop!”

5

Jane was not sure at which point during the afternoon that the meaning of the Queen’s cryptic comments swam into horribly clear focus for her. By the time the prickle of alarm shot up her spine and made her eyes widen and the breath catch in her throat, it was all too late to cry halt! or to protest she could not possibly consent to such a match.

She had spent the past two hours wallowing in a hopeless and wretched misery, and by the time the Queen unbent enough to address her with any kindness again, she felt like a complete lack-wit. So grateful was she, to receive Armenal’s smile, however cool, that she had already agreed to the Queen’s proposal before she even knew what she was agreeing to.

“V-viscount Bardulf?” she repeated now with sudden panic. Surely, she had misheard Her Majesty? She shot a terrified look in his direction and found he was smothering a yawn. Had he not heard what the Queen had suggested? Jane felt her heart lurch with alarm.

“The Viscount is in wholehearted agreement with me on the matter. Is that not so, Bardulf?” the Queen said, turning smugly to him.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” he replied, looking entirely bored by the topic of conversation. In Jane’s opinion, he seemed to be contemplating his tasseled shoes with more concentration than the matter of impending marriage between them. He had not heard the Queen’s outrageous proposal, Jane thought anxiously. He could not have heard her, or he would hardly be so sanguine in his manner.

“You see Jane,” the Queen said with satisfaction. “It is all settled nicely between us.”

“But—”

“I shall speak to Wymer about it directly,” the Queen added, her pleasure at the match seeming to fade at this thought. A rather grim expression settled over her features and Jane’s heart quailed. That would not be an easy conversation for the Queen, she thought with a pang. Securing the future of her late rival’s child.

Seeing her expression, Queen Armenal nodded. “I am glad to see you are conscious of the indignity this will cause me, Jane,” she said with quiet gravity.

Jane swallowed and bowed her head. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she whispered, feeling mortified.

The Queen nodded. “And now you will all leave me,” she announced, “with the exception of my faithful Magnatrude.” The older woman hurried forward. She was flushed with pleasure at being so singled out. “I am exhausted,” the Queen continued, “by all of this planning and pother. Over such a topic too,” she complained. “It is too much!”

“Your Majesty should not be bothered with such things that are wholly beneath her,” Magnatrude uttered, sending an angry look in Jane’s direction.

“You are right, of course,” the Queen sighed in agreement as Jane performed a wobbly curtsey. “But I have always felt entirely too responsible for the fate of others. Once my good opinion is bestowed, I find it so hard to retract it even in the face of errant unworthiness.”

“You are too good, too kind,” Magnatrude Bartree agreed fiercely. “And others take advantage of that fact!”

Receiving a wave of dismissal from the Queen, Jane turned at once and headed for the door, her face aflame. She was scarcely even aware of Viscount Bardulf’s unhurried step behind her until he prevented her from blundering into a closed door by extending an arm to push it open for her.

“Oh! My lord, I had n-not realized you were there,” Jane stammered as he fell in step beside her.

“Well,” he said with a quirk of his lips, “let us hope that we can continue in such blissful ignorance of one another for the next fifty years or so.” At her blank look, he elaborated, “Your years, I believe, are five and twenty, and mine number only three more than that. Fifty years might be a little optimistic but not outlandishly so for the sum of our married life together.”

Jane’s step faltered and she swung about to face him. “So, you did hear it?” she exclaimed in a choked voice. “The Queen’s plan, I mean.”

“Of course,” he agreed, his eyebrows shooting up. “A lack of hearing has never been one of my failings.”

“I—but—” Jane floundered hopelessly. “I thought you weren’t paying attention!”

“You would not be the first to make that mistake,” he admitted, and if Jane was not so badly rattled, she would doubtless have been annoyed by such flippancy.

“You are agreeable to the Queen’s scheme, then?” she asked incredulously.

Again, he shrugged an elegant shoulder. “These disagreeable duties come to us all eventually. At least this way I shall not be expected to beget an heir, for you will come with one ready-made, is that not so?” Jane gaped at him. “Then too, I will be spared the necessity of performing some elaborate courtship.” When she continued silent, he quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “Or am I wrong in that supposition?”

Jane practically shuddered at the idea of being wooed by Viscount Bardulf. “No, I should not expect that,” she agreed fervently, and she thought he smirked, though the corridor was rather shadowy at this point, so she could have been mistaken.

“Then, of course,” he mused, “there is the matter of your dowry. Wymer will doubtless dower you handsomely in the hopes of getting the wretched brat off his hands.”

Jane felt herself bristle at this unflattering allusion to her niece. “That wretched brat would be your legal ward if you agree to these terms,” she pointed out, her voice shaking with indignation.

“Of course,” he agreed off-handedly. “But what’s a daughter, here or there? Hardly worth quibbling over, are they?”

Jane came to an abrupt halt, regarding him with a sudden, awful suspicion. “You do not … have some already, do you?” she asked faintly.