Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(49)
Elle meets my gaze and sighs. “When her ladyship prepared to leave, the frog jumped on her new dress. Naturally, it gave her a huge fright, and she tried to get out her parasol to whack the frog, but Billy caught the gold top of the end of the parasol. She called him an impertinent monkey, and she said Mamsie and Billy weren’t fit to associate with Henry.”
“Oh dear.” I really should feel bad for Elle’s sake, but the frog incident sounds so comical that I have to suppress a smile. “Did she tell Henry? What did he say?”
“He tried reasoning with her ladyship, but she wouldn’t be pacified. Either I disown my family, or I cannot marry Henry. Of course, I can’t abandon Mamsie and Billy. Henry suggested that we wait until her ladyship calms down.” Elle looks down on her lap. “I’m already fortunate that I’ve been able to provide for Mamsie and Billy, which is all I ever wanted. More happiness would be a blessing.” Elle finishes her tea and exhales. “I should be going. Mr. Galen kindly agreed to lend us a dozen pots of ferns for the girls’ musical this week, and I have to oversee the delivery of the plants. Will you be attending the musical? Your niece will be participating. It will also do good if other parents see you present.”
I make sure that the date doesn’t coincide with my next dancing lesson. “Sure, Elle. I’ll be there.”
24
Edward has become even busier these days—he barely visits me in the mornings at tea time. The king had asked him to assist with the urban planning of the capital, ever since the mayor wanted to plan more public parks and gardens. Along with his usual duties of drafting memorandums and agreements, working with Henry and other parliament members on various acts, as well as the dancing lessons, I’m glad that I made the decision to cancel our nightly talks and set up a space in his office. If Edward goes on like this, I’ll be submitting a royal Eight-Hour-Act on his behalf.
Every day after breakfast, I return to our suite—to my study with the window seat, to be exact—and sift through the never-ending pile of letters. Then I read the papers. I requested a subscription to three publishers, so that I could learn about the same event from different perspectives. I review drafts of Edward’s work and make suggestions or corrections. Then, in the afternoon, I’d head to his office on the other side of the palace.
Today I have to leave the palace, but I want to see my husband before I engage the carriage. Before I enter through the doorway, I hear voices coming from within.
“A woman in this place is a dangerous influence, Your Highness.” The lord chamberlain sounds genuinely concerned. “How will you be able to concentrate on your work while she’s in here?”
“My wife is not to be labeled dangerous, Dubois,” Edward says stiffly.
The lord chamberlain sniffs in disapproval. “I’ve heard stories of how you’re becoming less inhibited ever since she moved in the palace. Do try to remember your father had you carefully brought up. Unbridled passion is a sin, and you know well how some of your ancestors were perceived when they took mistresses and…”
“I have no intentions of taking a mistress.” Edward sounds exasperated. “If I were lax in my responsibilities, my father, or the prime minister, would be the first to lecture me. Dubois, I suggest you return to your duties of managing the royal household. I have work to finish.”
“But Your Highness, there are people talking, and you must be well aware of how His Majesty is concerned of your image.”
I really don’t feel like interrupting their conversation, but I have to go soon if I don’t want to be late to Rosie’s musical.
I rap on the door smartly and sail into the room as though I’ve just arrived and didn’t hear a word of their conversation.
“Master Dubois.” I nod at him and smile, before turning to Edward. “Sorry; I didn’t mean to barge in like this, but I had to drop by and let you know I’m not joining you today.”
Edward nods. “Where are you going?”
“To Princess College. Rosie is taking part in a musical, and she’ll appreciate it if her Aunt Kat is there. Because of this, I made certain to finish editing the draft on the tea trade agreement this morning.” I lay a sheaf of papers on Edward’s desk. “I’ve flagged several consistency errors, made suggestions to some awkward phrasing, and corrected every grammatical and spelling mistake I could find. If you’ve any questions, we can go over with them when I come back for dinner.”
Edward flashes me a dazzling smile. In my opinion, he is more likely to be a distraction than I. “Thank you, Kat. You’ve saved me hours of work.”
I sweep him a curtsy and grin. “You’re most welcome, Your Highness. See you later.”
When I walk past the lord chamberlain, who looks as if he’s turned into stone, I stop. “I almost forgot—I also compiled a style sheet for you.”
“A style sheet? Explain, please.”
I raise an eyebrow. Edward knows perfectly well what a style sheet is—he’s only asking because the lord chamberlain is listening.
“A list of word usages and punctuation, so you’ll be able to keep track of your writing and maintain consistency.”
“It sounds like a useful tool,” Edward grins. “Do you not agree, Dubois?”