Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(63)
Amelie ushers me upstairs in haste, and I’m reminded of the day after Edward and I were married for the first time. I had emerged from my room, ran into a male servant, and Amelie had rushed to me and said I should not appear in my nightgown in front of other menfolk.
“Has Edward already gone out?”
Amelie nods, bringing out a lovely cream-colored gown. “He said he must process the divorce papers without delay.”
“Divorce?” It takes me a second before I realize that she is talking about Edward divorcing Katriona. My brain must have gone to mush since I entered prison.
Amelie laces up my back with her usual efficiency. She has chosen a tea gown, which means I don’t have to wear a corset, thankfully. While my corsets are all custom-made and designed with maximum comfort, nothing beats having a padded gown.
“When I helped the other lady dress,” Amelie grabs the brush on the table and starts fluffing my hair, “she never had a kind word for me. She would complain that the dresses were too simple, the hairstyles unflattering, and I should always speak in deference to her wishes.”
Katriona sounds like what Bianca usually behaves. Despite their obvious differences in appearance, they may be more similar in character than one might expect.
“Do you know how long it might take for Edward to divorce her?”
Amelie pauses, brush in hand. “My sister’s divorce took a year.” At my widening eyes, she quickly adds, “But that’s because her husband put up a tenacious resistance. He kept arguing that his acts of violence weren’t done on purpose, he was inebriated, and the child would suffer from the loss of a father. It was also rare for a lower-class woman like Mary to be granted a divorce—those are more likely to happen to upper-class people who had the means to hire attorneys. In Mary’s case, she had the entire family’s support, plus His Highness.”
Heavy footfalls sound on the stairs, followed by a resounding knock on the door.
“Pardon me, Princess Kat,” Bertram says. “But your friends have come and they’re waiting downstairs.”
I fly down the stairs, my spirits rising. Poppy and Elle are seated in the parlor. Their faces light up when I approach.
“Oh Kat!” Poppy says, rushing over and engulfing me in a bear-like hug. “Oh Kat, I am SO glad you’re safe and sound. When Elle said you were locked away in prison without even a trial, I couldn’t believe my ears.” She draws back and regards me with a stern look. “How could you be so careless, disguising yourself as Katriona Bradshaw?” Already, she’s sounding like a mother admonishing a child. Only in this case, I’m not Sébastien or Little Katherine.
“It’s also my fault,” Elle intervenes. “I should never have agreed to this plan. If I didn’t lend Kat a gown of mine, she couldn’t have masqueraded the other lady.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” I blurt. “I was so sure I could do it, I practically forced you to go along with me.”
“But you’re the one who suffered for the consequences.” Elle hugs me, and a tear trickles down her face. “After all you’ve done for me, I put you in jeopardy for the school. Never again, Kat. You’re my dearest friend and I will never let you risk something like this again.”
“Elle, stop it,” I mumble. She looks like she owes me her life. “I’ve told you a thousand times that it was my idea and I wanted to do it. Anyway, I’m out of prison now and in one piece, so there’s no need to berate yourself over it.”
“Now that His Highness is living with her, Kat’s unlikely to risk herself again,” Poppy says, smiling. “He’ll divorce Katriona and Kat will be princess again. Things will be back to normal.”
Elle lets me go, a frown on her pretty face. “Haven’t you read the papers this morning?”
Poppy shakes her head. “The twins kept me until Jonathan returned…” Poppy trails off. “What was in the papers that got you worried?”
“Sit down,” I say, unconsciously reverting to princess mode. I signal to Thomas, who’s hovering in the entryway. “A pot of hot tea, please. And blueberry scones, if there’s any available. Oh, and hot cinnamon buns would be lovely as well.” Poppy’s fond of blueberry scones, while Elle is partial to hot cinnamon buns. She occasionally allowed herself the luxury of a bun when the weather turned cold.
Thomas nods and disappears promptly, as any well-trained butler does. I take an upholstered chair across the sofa where Poppy and Elle sit, and cuddle the fat, squishy cushion on the chair instead of leaning back into it. I kick off my shoes and tuck my feet under my bum. I’m with my friends, not at a state banquet.
Elle’s mouth quirks, though she remains sitting properly, hands folded and her back ramrod straight, like a debutante. But the tiny smile disappears when she begins to speak. “I stopped by Mr. Wellesley’s this morning, and he mentioned the paper had sold out this morning—he couldn’t remember the last time a paper sold this fast. It featured your trial yesterday.”
My insides grow cold at the memory of me standing forlornly in front of the judges, my body stinking and my hair a mess, while Bianca and Katriona looked upon me with the eyes of an executioner. Nevertheless, I try to keep my tone light. “It can’t be too flattering. I was a fright to behold.”