2025-02-11 11:55:24
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Chapter 792
“Grandmother,” Patricia cut in hastily. “You know I already have a boyfriend. He’s a count, he’s exceedingly wealthy, and he told me he’s serious about us. We’re going to be engaged soon!”“I’ve been hearing that excuse for a year,” the matriarch replied coldly. “It is the only reason you remain in line for the succession right behind Serena. You had better bring him before me soon, or I will marry you off to that idiot prince instead.”“Of course, Grandmother. But surely you haven't forgotten my younger cousin? Shouldn't she take her turn first?”…Lady Honoria Pryce arrived the next afternoon in a green motorcar the size of a boat, a big pink woman in three strings of pearls, bringing her son.She talked about him the way a farmer talks about a horse at market."Look at him, Imelda," she boomed happily. "Go on, look. Good teeth. Good height. A sound temper, never raises his voice, never has. Rides, shoots, dances, reads a little, not too much." She slapped her son on the back. "And
Chapter 791
Serena Tiffany held up her hands in the morning light and looked at her fingers."Ten," she said. Her voice was low and rough, like a door that hadn't been opened for a long time. "I have ten. I'd forgotten."Then she looked past her hands, at the window. Morning light lay on the bare floorboards in a long gold square, with the shadow of the bars across it. She looked at it the way other people look at the sea.Her mother used to read her an old poet at bedtime.Had I not seen the Sun / I could have borne the shade / But Light a newer Wilderness / My Wilderness has made.At nine, Serena had thought it was a sad poem. Now she understood that it was a warning.I've seen it now, she thought. Nobody puts me back in the dark. Not ever again.Around the narrow bed in the tower, much too thin, long dark hair loose on the pillow, she looked up at them.The family stood in a half-circle and didn't breathe: the Baroness with her cane, Pauline, Cordelia with her hand over her mouth, Patricia whi
Chapter 790
By seven in the morning, every door in the east wing of the Tiffany house was locked, and nobody would tell the idiot why."What was the scream?" Alexander asked the cook innocently, at the kitchen door."What scream?" the cook snapped."At sunrise," he said patiently. "From the tower.""There wasn't any scream, Your Highness," she said, nervous. She didn't look at him. "You must have dreamed it.""Everybody dreamed it, then," Alexander said mildly. "The dogs dreamed it too. They were barking for an hour.""Breakfast's in the servants' hall," the cook said sharply, and shut the door in his face.Upstairs, behind the locked doors, he could hear the house running about in a panic: the doctor's car on the gravel at half past seven, Pauline's voice, sharp and low, and once, very clearly, Patricia's."That's impossible!" she shrieked.Felicia found him in the yard, in the grey morning light, feeding the hounds."Something's happened up there," she whispered. "The maids are crying. Madam Pa
Chapter 789
The grey car drove north along the coast road, rain streaming down its windows, the sea black on the left. In the back, Alexander changed out of the wet waiter's jacket into plain black clothes that fitted him exactly. A flat wooden box lay beside him."What's in it?" he asked."Your face, sir," the driver said flatly, without turning round. "Mr. Moss had it bought from a black market."Inside, on grey velvet, lay a mask of white porcelain: no mouth, two narrow slits for eyes, and a hairline crack across the brow mended with gold."Old," Alexander said softly."Three hundred years," the driver said, reading it off a card, dry as paper. "It belonged to a court physician who treated an empress and preferred not to be thanked.""Did the empress live?" Alexander asked, curious."To ninety. The physician was never identified." The driver put the card away. "Mr. Moss says he'd like both of those things to happen again."Alexander put the mask on. When he spoke again, his voice was lower and
Chapter 788
"Baroness," Alexander said politely. "May I ask you something?"Four hundred people held their breath under the three gold chandeliers.The Baroness put down her oyster fork. Beside her, Pauline's face went smooth and still, like a pond freezing."You may not," the Baroness said coldly. "Married-in men do not ask. You were told.""I was told," Alexander agreed, calm. "I'm asking anyway. It isn't for me.""Oh, he's asking, Mother!" Cordelia laughed, high and delighted. "At your birthday! In a waiter's jacket!""Be quiet, Cordelia," the Baroness snapped. She looked at him. "Well? You've stopped my quartet. Ask."He picked up one of the gold-edged cards that lay beside every plate.Under the menu, in curling letters, it said: The Tiffany Foundation: eighty years of care for the sick and the needy of the coast."Your foundation helps the sick," he said quietly. "It says so on every table. There's an old man on Harland. His name is Tom. He's seventy, and his heart is failing. The hospital
Chapter 787
The Grand Hotel's ballroom held four hundred people, and on the night of the Baroness Tiffany's eightieth birthday it held four hundred and twelve.Three gold chandeliers hung over a white marble floor. A string quartet played on a low stage, and at the head table, under the middle chandelier, the Baroness sat in black lace and pearls, small and straight, her white hair pinned so tightly it looked painful.Alexander arrived at the service door, because he wasn't allowed to use the front.Pauline was waiting for him there, tall, in dove grey, with something white folded over her arm."Put this on," she said coldly.He unfolded it. It was a short white waiter's jacket with brass buttons and the Grand Hotel's crest on the pocket."I'm a guest," he said, soft and puzzled."You're a married-in husband below the married-in husbands," Pauline said, smooth and cold as a menu. "There aren't enough chairs. There are, however, a great many trays." She handed it over with two fingers, as if it we
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