A Princess in Waiting by Carol Grace

A Princess in Waiting by Carol Grace

Author:Carol Grace
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-10-14T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Six

The next day Lise went to the palace in a chauffeured car that Charles insisted she use. He said he’d buy her a car after the baby came, but now he felt better knowing she wasn’t alone in case something happened. She appreciated his concern, but she longed to be independent again.

As usual, she entered the palace by the servants’ entrance and went straight to the kitchen where the cooks made her sit down and drink tea and eat buttery almond cakes.

“She’s looking a little peaked,” Blanche said, refilling Lise’s cup. “We’d better pack up some goodies for her to take home. Who’s cooking for you?”

“Her name is Marceline,” Lise said. “She’s really very good. But not as good as you all.”

The three women in white starched aprons beamed at her praise.

“What’s it like being married to a Rhinelander?” Genevieve asked, forgetting that Lise had been married to one before.

“Very nice,” Lise said primly.

“I take it he’s not one of those that’s trying to take us over,” Genevieve said.

“No, of course not,” Lise said. “Who’s trying to take us over?”

“Nobody,” Lucette said. “She’s talking off the top of her head.”

“I’m not either,” Genevieve said indignantly. “Don’t think I don’t keep my ears open when I’m upstairs. Maybe the princess better hear it from us than someone else.”

“I don’t hear anything,” Lise said. “That’s why I’m here, to find out what’s going on.”

Genevieve’s eyes widened and she leaned down to whisper into Lise’s ear. “They say there’s trouble brewing in Rhineland. Not everyone, mind you, just one group talking about making their move. Just you stay away from there, and tell your husband the same.”

“Surely you don’t think it’s dangerous?” Lise said.

“I’m just saying…” Genevieve said.

“Just saying nonsense,” Lucette continued. “Now how about a slice of brioche hot out of the oven?”

Lise couldn’t say no. She let the cooks fuss over her and feed her and gossip and regale her with stories of their own pregnancies and deliveries until she finally excused herself and climbed up to the attic, which was really a storeroom under the eaves on the top floor. She opened the high narrow windows to let in some fresh air and looked out on the turrets and an ancient gargoyle that she and her sisters had always thought looked like their grandmother. They’d played up here, dragging dresses and shawls and furs out of the trunks and teetering around in the borrowed high-heeled boots and shoes.

If they’d ever been caught, there would have been the devil to pay, Lise thought. Some of the clothes had no doubt been worn by revered royal ancestors. And could be worn again if tight corsets and décolletage ever came back into style. But they’d been careful and as quiet as three little girls could be and their clandestine activities had remained their secret. She hadn’t been back up here in years. It seemed no one else had either. The dust was now another inch thick at least.

Lise looked around at the crates and boxes and trunks and sighed.



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