Page 97 of The Favourite

Hubair turned purple. “Certainly not! I meant with the current political climate being so uncertain!” He glanced about furtively. “I am certain you have been most anxious to assure His Majesty, King Wilhelm, of your continued loyalty to the Lasconian crown. I am somewhat amazed you have not been summoned back home to explain your actions of late,” he sniffed.

“Are you?” Alisander asked coolly with lifted brows. “But my loyalties remain quite unchanged, I assure you, my dear Hubair,” he replied with perfect truth, for his loyalties had only ever lain with himself.

“That’s as may well be,” the other responded heavily, shaking his head, “but things look very odd, of late. Very odd indeed. The Lasconian Ambassador, marrying a-a connection of the King of Karadok and adopting his—” Catching the look in Alisander’s eye he broke off hastily. “I mean, all these imprudent betrothals that have been happening of late,” he finished pettishly. “It is all very troubling. “

Alisander rolled his eyes. “You refer once more to your archduke and the Duchess of Rand’s niece?”

“Shhhhh!” Hubair practically bridled. “No names, if you please, my lord!” He glanced about with exaggerated concern. “To even speak of it out loud is most imprudent!”

“I have heard that entanglement will likely come to naught,” Alisander said crushingly. He was tired of humoring Hubair. No one cared about his penniless archduke, least of all Wymer.

Hubair looked terrified. “You have been speaking of this?” he gasped. “With another? I told you in the utmost confidence, my lord!”

“The other party was fully aware and just as unconvinced by it as I.”

Hubair turned stiff with affront. “I see. I see that Kloberg’s concerns are not considered sufficiently important to Lascony’s official ambassador in Karadok!”

“My dear Hubair, calm yourself.”

“I shall certainly write to King Wilhelm with my concerns!” Hubair fumed. “I feel sure I am not alone in my fears and—and my doubts as to your priorities of late, my lord!”

“Well, you must do as you see fit,” Alisander drawled. “And I shall continue to do likewise.” He had already swept his most elegant bow, clipped Hubair’s ear with the swirl of his cape, and was striding off down the avenue, before it occurred to him that he never had found out what Kloberg’s boy-king had been about, that had so concerned Oswald Vawdrey.

Ah well, he had more important things to think about right now. Namely, what his wife was up to. The irony was that wedding Jane had likely been the one thing he had done in his life without an ulterior motive. He had simply wanted her. How ironic, that he was now beset on all sides with people thinking he had some nefarious plot afoot.

Looking at it objectively, he supposed it might look somewhat suspicious. What he really ought to have done was humored Hubair, and convinced him that it was Queen Armenal who had persuaded him to take Jane to wife. Then the touchy little man would not have taken such mortal offense.

He ought to have sent such an account to Wilhelm, too, stating as much before the wedding had even taken place. If he did it now, it would look like what it was, an afterthought. The truth was that he had not been thinking straight at all when it came to the prospect of getting Lady Jane Cecil within his clutches. He supposed “imprudent” was the right word, after all.

Still, Hubair had annoyed him, which was never wise. It was ridiculous to be put out by criticism of his choice of wife, and doubtless, he was a fool to feel goaded into anger by the likes of Alphonse Hubair, but he simply lacked the patience for it this day. Especially, when he was so desperate to return to Jane’s side. It seemed like hours since he had quit their bed. Ah well. He would appease Hubair next time.

His steps quickened along with his anticipation as he climbed the stair to the western wing. It didn’t matter how much he told himself to slow down, he found that was the last thing he wanted to do. Finally, he reached their rooms, but no sooner was he inside, than Wat sprang into his pathway.

“My lord,” Wat said, looking pale but resolute. “Might I be permitted a word with you in private?”

Alisander narrowed his eyes at the servant’s bleak expression. Now what?he wondered. How many more people were going to get in his way when all he wanted to do was enjoy his wife’s society? “And I suppose it must be now, Wat?” he asked with resignation.

Wat looked a little glassy-eyed, and Alisander was not sure he did not sway on the spot. “If at all possible, my lord,” he replied.

“Oh, very well,” Alisander sighed. He peered inside the main chamber, half-hoping for a glimpse of Jane. He was disappointed in this, for the room was empty for once. “Not a soul in sight.” He walked in and beckoned for Wat to follow. “By the way, where is my wife?” He was unable to stop himself from asking.

“She had another gown delivered,” Wat answered promptly, shutting the door behind them. “And she sent for that maid she shares to help her try it on. She’s in your bedchamber.”

Alisander was sorely pressed to go and take a look himself, but instead, he turned to the perspiring manservant in front of him. “What was it you wanted to speak to me about?”

Wat swallowed audibly. “My lord, I have a confession to make,” he said.

Alisander’s heart sank. Fuck. Why was everyone being so annoying this afternoon!

Five minutes later, he sat in a chair listening to Wat unburdening himself and wondering how to extricate them both from this mess.

“In the beginning, I simply thought of it as serving my country,” Wat said hollowly. “You served a foreign king, and I thought it no more than my solemn duty to keep an eye on your comings and goings and report back. But something has changed now,” he said wretchedly. “Something’s … shifted somehow.” He worried his lip a moment.

“Maybe it’s the extra mouths around the table. Maybe it’s because the household is starting to feel more like a—a family,” he said rushing on. “Somehow, I don’t feel the same about where my duty lies,” he admitted miserably. “Now it feels like I’m doing something low and sneaky. Something to be ashamed of. Something disloyal.”

“My dear Wat,” Alisander interjected smoothly, “you must not upset yourself. This crisis of conscience is wholly unnecessary. I do not consider you remotely dishonorable.” When Wat began shaking his head, he carried on swiftly.

“It is all quite true, I assure you. As to your loyalty”—he paused—“I am sure you are loyal to your original master, whose service you entered long before mine. I might add that is entirely what I expected when first I employed you. Indeed,” he added significantly, “I considered that to be a point very much in your favor.”