Page 131 of The Favourite

“Betrothal talks?” Jane repeated in astonishment. “Whose betrothal?” In her own mind, she had been facing up to the fact that Alisander was almost definitely a spy. Such thoughts had fleetingly crossed her mind before, but she had not cared to dwell on them. “He—he was not promised to another lady …?” she began falteringly and dropped like a stone onto a low seat.

“What nonsense are you spouting, Wat?” Ayleth demanded in a hoarse voice from across the room. By tacit agreement, everyone was trying to keep the subject from Robert, who was now doddering about the room lighting candles.

“Well”—Wat took a deep breath—“apparently King Wilhelm of the Western Isles has a niece that has recently married her second cousin,” Wat explained in hushed tones. “But going back a few years, there was some talk of her being betrothed to Prince Raedan.”

“Prince Raedan,” Jane repeated, thinking of the King’s son and heir, seldom seen at court, and certainly not yet numbering a man’s years.

“Yes, my lady.” Wat cleared his throat, sending a fleeting glance at Robert. “Only, you know what royalty’s like with their arranged marriages and such like. Apparently, in some quarters it’s seen as a deadly insult to Karadok that the Western Isles have allowed this princess of theirs to wed another.”

“Surely King Wymer’s got better things to be upset over at present?” Ayleth put in crossly. “Is he not supposed to be prostrate with grief?”

“I don’t understand,” Jane said flatly. “What has any of this to do with my husband?”

“Well, nothing really,” Wat said hopelessly. “But it happens sometimes with foreign ambassadors when their country crosses swords with their host country. They bear the brunt of it. Apparently, King Wilhelm clapped our ambassador in irons a couple of weeks ago over some spat about an archduke in Kloberg.” He scratched his head. “It’s all a bit beyond me, in truth.”

Anne stood up, plunking her hands on her hips, as Robert disappeared out of the door to fetch something or other. “So, this is just some petty matter what don’t even concern ‘im?” she said with disgust. “And just for that, the King sent an armed guard to drag him from his hearth and set these poor little mites a-caterwauling? Outrageous! That’s what I call it!”

Poor Wat hung his head as though he felt responsible in some way. Then Jane remembered that he was in the employ of Lord Vawdrey. Well, perhaps that was why he felt badly about it. Her chest swelled indignantly. “It is quite outrageous,” Jane agreed. “And so, we shall let everyone know!”

29

Traitors Tower, The Royal Palace at Aphrany

Alisander turned away from the window and surveyed the rather bare room he now found himself confined in with displeasure. It was raining again, and he should be reveling in the tragic figure he made, shut up, a prisoner, in Karadok’s most infamous tower. He ought to be thoroughly enjoying himself, playing up the drama to the hilt, but instead, he felt annoyed and uneasy, and it was all Jane’s fault.

It had been three days, but still, he was haunted by the expression on her face when the guards had been pounding at their door. She had looked so damn frightened and panicked, and she had clutched at him like she was afraid for his life. No doubt she was crying herself to sleep every night and begging for an interview with the Queen that she might petition her on his behalf.

The idea made him feel coldly furious with the world at large. Jane seemed to have no notion that he could very well look after himself—and her, and their child, and their servants, and she ought to have more faith in him, damn it! “She has not gone into the country?” he asked with feigned casualness. “How disobedient of her.” Oswald Vawdrey glanced up from the chessboard he was studying and made a murmur of agreement. Alisander regarded him irritably. “You delivered my letter, I suppose?”

A look of reproach flitted across Oswald’s face. “Of course, I did,” he replied, sounding faintly injured. “And what’s more, I offered a guarded escort for your entire household to take them down to Kinnerton. Your wife, however, is downright refusing to remove to the country. She says that would look as though they were running away, and she refuses to appear in any way ashamed or as though she agreed that you are guilty of any wrongdoing.”

Alisander pulled a face. “It sounds,” he said acerbically, “as though you have thoroughly succeeded in putting her back up. No doubt you have handled this all wrong.” He strode across the room and threw himself moodily down into the chair opposite Vawdrey.

“I?” Oswald looked stunned. “You wound me, Alisander. I have been all that is considerate and sympathetic to Lady Bardulf. I even agreed—entirely straight-faced, I might add—that you are an innocent and injured party in this affair. I explained about the delicate nature of foreign relations and how these things must be allowed to simply run their course—”

“And?” Alisander asked pointedly.

“And what?”

“And what response did she make?”

“She gave me very short shrift indeed,” lamented Oswald. “She was abrupt in her manner, almost rude I would say.”

“Rude?” Alisander repeated incredulously, sitting up in his seat. “That does not sound like Jane at all.” He shook his head. “Oh, you have made a wretched mess of this, Vawdrey! I might have known I should never have trusted you!”

“Again, you wrong me,” Oswald murmured without heat. “My idea was inspired. Both Lascony and Kloberg have reacted entirely as I had anticipated to your imprisonment. Their dark suspicions that your marriage had somehow compromised you have suffered an abrupt reverse. Hubair is now dashing off letters to one and all, bewailing Karadok’s tyranny instead of your undependability. Wilhelm is beside himself with fury that we should dare incarcerate his emissary.” He reached across and moved his knight. “Your move.”

Alisander ignored him. “When I think of the effort I made writing that letter!” he seethed. “It would have brought a tear to the eye of even the most cynical of wives. My words were full of a tender, husbandly solicitude.” He scowled at Vawdrey. “And thanks to you, it was all in vain!”

“I read it, of course,” Oswald murmured. “And in my opinion, you overdid the pathos.”

“Nonsense!” Alisander snapped. “What would you know about it?” He tapped his foot against the table leg irritably. “I implored her to take the children and all our dependents to the safe haven of Kinnerton, where they will be away from it all. And now what do I find? They are still racketing about court, likely the subject of gossip and conjecture!” His voice cracked a little over the last three words, and he had to make an effort to recover his calm. “She does not enjoy that sort of thing,” he said heavily, remembering how distressed she had appeared on returning to court after her sister’s death. “It may even make her ill.”

Oswald regarded him thoughtfully across the table. “Of course, you know her better than I do,” he said slowly, “but it does not seem to me, that Lady Bardulf is suffering unduly at present.”

Alisander frowned back at him. “What the devil do you mean by that?” He suffered an unpleasant sensation in his gut. Was Jane not missing him at all?

“Well, just that your good lady wife does not appear in imminent danger of sinking into a decline. If anything, she is striding about, her eyes flashing with scorn at anyone who might even imagine her in need of pity.”