The monarch’s expression hardened as her piercing gaze slid back to Sophie. “Details, girl. As I assume you were the one who received these threats and brought them to your mother’s attention. It has not escaped my notice that she has been quite busy at King Louis’s court.” She cast a sour look back at the dowager countess, and her mouth puckered as though she smelled something foul. “I mean, really, Nia? You have always possessed a much more discriminating taste than that. I am very disappointed in you.”
The dowager opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and once more bowed her head. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“If you continue trembling and groveling like a traitorous subject, I shall soon doubt our friendship. Cease such behavior immediately.”
“I am concerned for your safety, my precious queen. And if anything dire comes of this, I shall never forgive myself.” Lady Rydleshire drew a lacy handkerchief from her reticule and pressed it to the corners of her eyes.
Sophie ached for her mother’s distress, knowing how much dear Maman treasured her close friendship with the queen—not because of the power such a relationship entailed, but because she truly adored Queen Charlotte. Sophie straightened her spine and sat taller, determined not to cower. “The blackmailer is not only asking for money, Your Majesty. They want Maman and me hanged, and your knowledge about the Rydleshire title made public and brought before Parliament.” She brought forth the threatening letters and gently slid them onto the table in front of the queen. “They have names, dates, and details. I cannot help but feel that this person once worked in our household in Calais.”
The queen expelled an irritated hiss and looked even more displeased. “But you have yet to find this scoundrel and silence them?”
“I have not, Your Majesty, but I know I am close.”
“How close?”
The queenwouldask that. Sophie swallowed hard and tried to remember to breathe. She didn’t dare lie. Queen Charlotte seemed to possess the ability to peer into one’s soul. “I have worked on this for some time now,” Sophie said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “I know I am quite close.”
“How. Close?”
Her Majesty was not known for her patience, and Sophie sensed she had reached its end. She relented and blew out a heavy sigh, consigning herself to the possibility of beingbeheaded. Well, that was doubtful. But the queen’s displeasure, along with Maman’s, was just as unpleasant as an execution. “I do not know, Your Majesty. Not yet. But I will not rest until I find them. Make no mistake.”
The royal rolled her eyes, then turned back to Sophie’s mother. “You assured me this would never happen, Nia.”
“I never believed that it would.” The dowager gave a sad shake of her head. “And unfortunately, I cannot use my usual resources due to the sensitive nature of this matter.”
“Agreed,” the queen said. “I would not wish this particular assignment given to any of your current apprentices or the associates from your past life.” Her irritated scowl made Sophie fear the beheading might actually become a reality. “Have you recently dismissed anyone from your household in Calais?”
“No, Your Majesty.” Sophie fidgeted in the chair, cringing when it creaked. “Most of our servants have been with us since I was born. Even those with the fewest years of service have been in our employ for well over five years.”
“Then your suspicion of the blackmailer being a former member of your staff is illogical.” Queen Charlotte dismissed Sophie with another impatient roll of her eyes and focused on the dowager. “Have you taught this child nothing? You were once my very best agent, Nia.”
Sophie’s mother reached over and patted Sophie’s arm. “My daughter is now the best, and I trust her implicitly. It was she who trained the spy who uncovered the plot to assassinate the prince regent.”
The queen hissed again, sounding like a sputtering teakettle. “Heaven only knows we would never wish any ill upon my dearest Georgie, now would we?”
Sophie bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Her Highness’s tone suggested that she and the prince regent had still not overcome their discord over who should rule inthe king’s stead when His Majesty had become permanently incapacitated by madness.
“Our concern is now for you,” the dowager countess said. “Sophie and I can manage our part in this as long as your safety—both physically and politically—is secured.”
“Obviously, you cannot manage this situation in any manner at all.” The queen leaned forward and, with the tiniest silver spoon, scooped up a portion of dark brown dust from a small crystal bowl. She sprinkled the snuff onto the side of her hand beside her thumb and inhaled it up her nose with a sharp sniff. “You have come here to warn me of this unpleasantness, and yet you possess absolutely no information other than the miscreant’s written demands. Not only that, but you offer no resolution.” She shook her head. “I am very disappointed in you, Nia.” She turned to Sophie. “And with you, child, I am most unimpressed. Did it never occur to you that this entire situation could have been avoided if you had debuted several years ago? At anappropriateage, I might add. Then you could have married well to make this all go away. Why was that not done, I ask you?”
“We could not possibly risk it,” Sophie said, perhaps a little sharper than she should have. “Not with the secret of the title hanging in the balance.” She had known this meeting would be unpleasant, but to be told by the queen that she was not only most unimpressive but also a mindless spinster cut her to the quick. “Your Majesty, you must—” Queen Charlotte’s narrow-eyed glare silenced her and dared her to continue. Sophie was not so dimwitted as to take that dare.
“Be that as it may,” the queen said, sharply biting out each word, “if today does not come to pass as I have deemed it shall, the two of you shall return here tomorrow at precisely the same hour.” Her irritated scowl darkened even more. “Unless, of course, I have a prior commitment to another of thoseunpleasant receptions with Georgie.” She drew herself up like an insulted peahen. “I should refuse all such engagements after that incident in April. The audacity of them jeering at the queen. After my many years of service. How dare they?”
“Most unforgivable,” the dowager countess hurried to say.
“You should have ordered them beheaded.” Sophie clamped her mouth shut. She should not have said that.
The queen did not smile, but definitely appeared to be more pleased than she had since their arrival. “Perhaps you are not so unimpressive after all, dear girl.”
A timid pecking on the door interrupted them, followed by a hesitant “Your Majesty?”
“Did I not dismiss you from this room, Edwards?”
The secretary kept his head bowed as he opened the door wider. “Yes, Your Majesty, you did. However, you also wished to be informed of his arrival.” He offered another apologetic dip of his chin. “Sir Nash Bromley is here.”
Indignance and age-old fury roared in Sophie’s ears, preventing her from hearing another word, even though it was the queen greeting their new guest. Nash Bromley. That arrogant, priggish, self-serving, poor excuse of a churl she should have impaled when they were both at Rydleshire Academy. If her practice sword had been steel rather than wood, she would have relieved this earth of a most insufferable individual and then danced on his grave.
