“Of course. We share a chamber, Emelie. We both know any time one of us comes or goes. I just didn’t say aught because it wasn’t my business.”
“But you’re my sister,” Emelie blurted.
“But I’m not your keeper.” Blythe pulled Emelie in for an embrace. “I thought he was making you happy. We’ve both been here so long. I thought you’d finally found your chance to have what Father and Mother have, what Isa and Ric have. Mother and Father aren’t very warm in front of others—not like how Isa and Ric still can’t keep their hands off one another—but we all know they love one another. Even if things were more like our parents than our sister, I thought Henry loved you.”
“I thought so, too.”
“It was likely an arranged marriage. He must be heartsore that he couldn’t marry the woman he wanted.”
“Hardly,” Emelie sneered. “He let me think he was going to ask for my hand. He let me think he was coming back for me. I was clear aboot my impressions for our future. But now that I think back, he was evasive. He said just enough to placate me. I’m such a fool.”
“Oh, Emmy.” Blythe fell back on her childhood name for her sister. “There will be other men. Men far more worthy than that prick. I bet his cock isn’t that big.” Blythe sniggered. Emelie pretended to be shocked, but she already knew exactly what Henry offered. She just had no basis for comparison. She assumed it was average.
“We will see.” Emelie peered around her sister and strained to see into the crowded Great Hall. The summer sun still hadn’t set, despite the evening meal’s completion. She’d contemplated what she would do now that marrying Henry was an impossibility. She’d procrastinated in visiting the midwife again, but she had to decide. Looking back at Blythe, she infused warmth into her smile. “Let’s dance. I don’t want to think aboot him anymore.”
Feeling a slight reprieve from her guilt after admitting one of her many secrets, Emelie walked arm-in-arm with Blythe as they reentered the Great Hall. The musical set changed, and the women took places among the other ladies. Emelie grinned at Blythe, but it slipped an inch when she faced forward and found Dominic standing before her. Her cheeks heated, just as they did every time they partnered. Fortunately, every dance they’d shared required changing partners, so they never stayed together long. But this set would keep them together for its entirety.
“Lady Emelie,” Dominic said as he bowed. It disconcerted him to see Emelie’s unease. She’d blushed prettily each time they came together during a dance, but this was the first time she looked as though she wished to flee. As their hands joined, they both glanced down before their gazes met. There was something unidentifiable, but almost tangible, that passed between them. Emelie twisted toward Dominic as his other hand came to rest on her waist. They stepped together, but neither hurried to step away, causing them both to miss a beat.
“Dominic,” Emelie whispered, unsure what she should say.
“I’m enjoying our dance, but I’m afraid I have to pay close attention to the music. I don’t practice often.”
Emelie smiled gratefully, appreciative that he let her off the hook from conversation. They both knew what he said was a falsehood; Emelie had already noticed he was an accomplished partner to any woman he twirled about the floor. He might not perform courtly dances often at home, but he was at ease in the royal Great Hall. They moved together in silence. The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it made them both more aware of one another. When the music ended, they were slow to release each other.
“Thank you.” Emelie lingered when she knew she should step away, but Dominic didn’t seem in a hurry, either. She hoped he understood she meant her gratitude was for more than the dance. She had almost forgotten her situation while they moved together, and she’d relished the reprieve of being in Dominic’s arms again.
“I hope we can share such a set again,” Dominic said as he bowed. It could have been a perfunctory comment, but Dominic realized he was sincere. His curiosity about the events in the garden had abated, but the lady-in-waiting herself intrigued him in a way he’d never been before, not even when he met Colina. He clenched his teeth and forced away the sneer that tickled his nose and lip. He’d noticed he loathed thinking about Emelie and Colina in the same moment.
“I would like that.” Emelie curtsied before inching toward a set of doors. Her insignificant height made it easy for her to maneuver through crowds unnoticed. She knew Blythe would assume she merely couldn’t see Emelie, and thus wouldn’t worry. This happened every night. Emelie rushed to her chamber and snatched her cloak from the peg upon which it hung. She knew it was unlikely she would pass anyone but servants in the passageways. Nonetheless, she kept her head lowered whenever she was near someone until she stepped into the bailey. She pulled her hood up, as her hair was far too distinct for anyone not to recognize it.
When Emelie and Blythe used to walk on each side of Laurel, the three women always stood out. Laurel’s strawberry-blonde mane was as unique and identifiable as the Dunbar sisters’ white-blonde hair. Only Arabella Johnstone’s deep red hair had been as eye-catching as the hue Emelie shared with Blythe and Isabella.
With her hair tucked into the shadows of her hood, Emelie hurried through town until she reached Goodwife Thomas’s door. She knocked without trying the door. The hour was too late for the apothecary to be open, but Emelie prayed that the woman would see her. It was the woman’s husband who opened the door, but the midwife stood just behind him. She nodded and waved Emelie inside as she told her husband to let Emelie pass.
“Was it the wheat or the barley?”
“The wheat,” Emelie replied.
“It didn’t take long,” Goodwife Thomas mused.
“It didn’t, and I don’t think I have much longer to decide what I should do.” Emelie pursed her lips before pressing them flat. “I already know what I should have done.”
“The past is the past, my lady. But you have a choice.”
“I’m not sure I can go through with it.” Emelie felt her gorge rise as she fought to keep her tears at bay. The matronly woman patted her shoulders, careful not to overstep the bounds of propriety while still offering comfort. Emelie was hardly the first young woman to visit her in the same predicament. Goodwife Thomas went to the stack of narrow drawers and pulled one open. She scooped out something Emelie could not see and dumped it into a sachet.
“In that case, take this pennyroyal with you. If you decide to use it, boil it into a tea and drink it three times a day until it brings on your courses.” The midwife handed Emelie the sachet, which was filled with petals. It was what Emelie knew she should have purchased before her first encounter with Henry. She knew other women used pennyroyal to prevent pregnancy, and she suspected it was what Margaret purchased the morning Emelie first came in.
“Thank you.” This time, Emelie pressed coins into the woman’s hands, but not just because the midwife’s husband glared at her with narrowed eyes. He’d obviously learned his wife hadn’t charged Emelie the first time. She wanted to pay the woman for her discretion and lack of judgment.
“Come back to me if ever you need me.”
“I will.” But Emelie prayed it would never come to that. She clutched the pouch in her hand as she made her way directly back to the castle. The sun had now set, and it grew dark quickly. Emelie had underestimated how long it would take her to visit the midwife, and she feared being outside the gates when they closed. She was also nervous about who she might encounter while she was alone. Her free hand drew the dirk she kept at her waist. She wasn’t overly skilled with it, but it was long and sharp. As long as an attacker didn’t turn it on her, she figured it would do enough damage to buy her time to get away. She didn’t breathe easy until she pulled the castle’s side door closed behind her.
Three
Emelie drew open the pouch she carried and peered inside. It wasn’t heavy, but it surprised her to find how full it was. Goodwife Thomas told her to drink the tea three times a day until her courses came, but she didn’t know how many petals she needed to use each time. She didn’t know if she needed to ration them because it could take several days, or if she should make it strong and assume it would induce her monthly cycle sooner. She wasn’t even certain she could go through with it.
