Chapter 12 – Good Reception

The Greystone townhouse shone like a jewel in the summer twilight. Essence lamps cast warm, light through every corner of the estate, and the courtyard had been transformed into a beautiful landscape of flowers.

Silver-grey and gold banners in the colors of the Greystones and Ashbournes fluttered gently in the balmy evening air. Long tables groaned under the weight of exquisite dishes. There were glazed pheasants, artfully arranged pies, candied fruits, and towers of sweet pastries. And of course lots of wine and ale.

Valentina stood two steps behind the Duchess in her dark green evening gown and Lady Beatrice stood beside her as well.

“The Ashbournes will be arriving any moment,” Beatrice murmured softly, maintaining her smile for the arriving guests.

Valentina sighed inwardly, but didn’t let on. She watched as the duke personally supervised the final details, instructing a servant here, correcting the position of a flower arrangement there. He didn’t usually concern himself with such details, but clearly he wanted everything to be perfect this evening.

The first guests began to arrive. The Earl of Redpool and his wife, both dressed in magnificent robes. “We are truly delighted about this engagement. You have made an excellent match.”

Cosimo accepted the congratulations smoothly. “Lord Montfort, how kind of you. Yes, we are extremely pleased with this match.”

The duchess was, of course, the perfect hostess, greeting each guest with just the right mixture of warmth and dignity, giving everyone a well-measured amount of attention. Lorenzo stood next to his parents, his smile professional and empty, as he endured endless congratulations.

Then the voice of Cosimo’s valet, who was acting as town crier for the evening, rang out: “Marquess Merrick Ashbourne of Timberpine and his family!”

Valentina’s heartbeat quickened as the Ashbournes entered. The marquess led his family in. The marchioness Alessandra was at his side, wearing a midnight blue velvet gown. Young Lord Jasper followed, clearly uncomfortable in his formal attire.

And in their midst, Innogen.

She wore a pale gold brocade dress the color of her hair, and diamonds sparkled around her neck. Presumably an engagement gift.

Duke Cosimo stepped forward and embraced the marquess warmly. “Merrick! Welcome to our family!”

“Cosimo.” The marquess returned the embrace somewhat stiffly, but sincerely. “It is an honor to unite our houses.”

The duchess kissed Alessandra on both cheeks. “Dear cousin, how wonderful that we will now be even closer.”

Alessandra smiled, though a certain reserve remained in her eyes. “Indeed, Rosalind.”

Lorenzo stepped forward and bowed deeply to his future mother and father in law. “Marquess, Marchioness.” He took Innogen’s hand and formally brought it to his lips. “Lady Innogen.”

Innogen curtsied perfectly. “Lord Lorenzo.”

The musicians in the corner played an elegant pavane, and soon the room filled with the murmur of conversation and the clink of wine cups. Lorenzo and Innogen were immediately surrounded by well-wishers again, unable to be alone for even a moment.

Valentina moved through the crowd in the Duchess’s shadow picking up snippets of conversation here and there.

“…our dresses at the wedding must also be made of brocade, nothing else would be appropriate…”

“…their children are sure to inherit the gift, just imagine…”

Duke Cosimo himself used this opportunity to work the room. Valentina saw him glide over to the Duke of Southwatch. “Alessandro, this alliance secures us the support of all the Marcher Lords. The west will be pacified.”

Duke Devereux nodded thoughtfully. “Indeed. Knowing that the western border is secure while we focus on other challenges…”

When the duchess, Beatrice, and Valentina joined Cosimo for a while, he placed his hand on Valentina’s back, even letting it wander a little lower, which she acknowledged with a slight smile. His hand lingered a moment longer than would have been proper. Not that any of it was really proper. But no one would tell the duke what to do in his own house.

After an hour, the duchess raised her voice. “May I have your attention, please!”

The conversations gradually fell silent. Rosalind stood in the middle of the room, elegant and confident.

“My dear friends, what a joy it is to have you all here to celebrate this wonderful union. May the friendship between our houses be as strong and lasting as the soon-to-be union between Lord Lorenzo and Lady Innogen.”

Polite applause arose.

“Lady Innogen,” the Duchess continued, “I look forward to getting to know you better. Tomorrow we will spend the day together so that I can properly welcome my future daughter-in-law.”

More applause. Valentina saw Innogen’s eyes widen and immediately dart toward her. Of course Valentina would be there as lady-in-waiting. A whole day together.

“You two will have to pull yourselves together. The duchess is watching like a hawk,” Vyxara teased.

“What do you think we would do, Vyxara? Pounce on each other in a broom closet?”

“Those indignant denials probably work better on people who can’t read your mind.”

Later, when Valentina took a wine goblet from a passing servant, she suddenly found herself next to Lorenzo, who was also reaching for a goblet. His hand accidentally brushed hers, and a jolt ran through her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Congratulations,” she murmured back.

He opened his mouth, and she already saw a sarcastic remark forming on his lips. Then, before he could say anything, he closed his mouth again and sighed softly. “I’m sorry, Valentina. I know I’m not the only one who… feels things.”

She forced a small smile. “Be good to her too, Lorenzo. She… she’s my best friend.”

“I know, I… I will.” His green eyes were full of unspoken words. “I promise.”

Then they moved apart, but the touch of his hand still burned on her skin long after Lorenzo had returned to the other end of the small courtyard.

The initial crowd in the courtyard had thinned out somewhat as the first nobles took their leave. Most used their commitments in Parliament the following day as an excuse, but behind this was the realization that the most important social maneuvers had already been accomplished.

Valentina watched out of the corner of her eye as Innogen apologized to her mother, one hand lightly placed on her stomach. The universal gesture of female discomfort that left no room for further questions. The marchioness nodded understandingly and turned back to her conversation with a countess.

“She’s running away,” Vyxara murmured in Valentina’s head.

“Can you blame her?”

Valentina waited a moment, counting to thirty in her head while pretending to listen attentively to a boring anecdote from the Earl of Redpool about wine prices, then moved closer to the duchess.

“Your Grace,” she whispered discreetly, “if you would excuse me for a moment…”

Duchess Rosalind nodded curtly. “Of course, my dear.”

Valentina followed the path Innogen had taken, through the bustling servants who were clearing away empty plates. The corridor was dimly lit, with only a few scattered Essence lamps casting faint cones of light onto the walls.

She found Innogen in a small side corridor next to the privy that led to the servants’ quarters. Her friend stood with her back to her, one hand pressed against the cool stone wall, her shoulders twitching slightly.

“Innogen.”

She spun around, and the moment their eyes met, all pretense fell away. Two or three tears were already running down Innogen’s cheeks, and she was trembling slightly, trying to compose herself.

“I can’t do this,” she blurted out in barely more than a desperate whisper. “Val, I can’t do this. All these people congratulating and celebrating while you stand right there and watch. It’s all so impossible, I’m trapped, completely trapped, and I-“

Valentina pulled her into a tight embrace and Innogen sank against her shoulder, her whole body shaking with suppressed sobs.

“I’m here,” Valentina whispered, her own eyes burning suspiciously. “I’m here, and I’ll always be here. We can do this, together.”

They held each other tight, and Valentina stroked Innogen’s back soothingly as her friend slowly calmed down.

“We can’t stay away for long,” Valentina finally murmured, even though everything in her screamed to never let Innogen go.

Innogen nodded against her shoulder, took a deep breath, and took a small step back. Her blue eyes were reddened, but the worst seemed to be over.

“It would be easier if I could hate him,” she whispered as Valentina gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Lorenzo, I mean. But he seems… he’s really nice, Val. You were right. He’s sincere and friendly and decent. That somehow makes it even worse.”

Valentina understood only too well. “It would be easier if he were a mean bastard.”

“Exactly.” Innogen laughed bitterly. “Then I could direct my anger at him. Instead, I also feel guilty because I’m incapable of loving a good man and… and… being with him… and giving him children. Instead, I…” She broke off, her gaze seeking Valentina’s. “Instead, I love you. Everything is so terribly complicated.”

Valentina gently took Innogen’s hands in hers. “I know I don’t have the words to make this any easier. But our friendship and us, we’ll survive this. We’ll always be there for each other. And tomorrow we have a whole day together. Maybe we’ll even manage to talk properly, in peace.”

“The duchess won’t let us out of her sight for a second,” Innogen murmured.

“Maybe. But right now, we only have to get through tonight, through the rest of the reception. One step at a time, and then tomorrow will come.”

They looked each other over critically, straightened each other’s hair and clothes, and carefully dabbed at their reddened eyes.

“You go back first,” said Valentina. “I’ll wait a few more moments.”

Innogen nodded, squared her shoulders, and put her social mask back on. But before she left, she reached for Valentina’s hand once more and squeezed it tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Then she was gone. Valentina slowly counted to one hundred before putting her own smile back on and returning to the reception.

“You handled that well,” Vyxara remarked gently. “You said and did just the right things to help her get through the evening.”

Fortunately, no one seemed to have really noticed her absence. The last hour of the celebration consisted of a series of farewells and good wishes. Lorenzo and Innogen were once again the center of attention, playing their roles with admirable perfection, before the Ashbournes also set off to return home.

“We’ll send Innogen over tomorrow around ten,” Marchioness Alessandra said to the duchess. “If that fits with your schedule?”

“Perfect,” beamed Rosalind. “I’m looking forward to meeting Innogen.”

The formal farewells dragged on. Lorenzo kissed Innogen’s hand again, and her curtsy was impeccable.

When the Ashbournes finally left, Innogen took one last look back. Her eyes found Valentina in the crowd, and for a tiny moment, a sad but genuine smile flitted across her face.

Then they were gone, and calm returned to the Greystones’ townhouse. The Earl of Redpool was the last to leave, his cheeks flushed from the abundant wine, and his wife had left some time ago.

“A splennid celebrayshun, Cosimo!” he exclaimed as his servant helped him into his cloak with some difficulty. “This alliance will make hishtory… hah!”

“You are too kind, dear Montfort,” replied Cosimo, who still looked impeccable despite the late hour. Only a slight twinkle in his eyes gave away that he, too, had enjoyed the wine. “It was an honor to have you here.”

The duchess stood beside him, her posture still perfect, although Valentina could see the exhaustion in the fine lines around her eyes.

Lorenzo stood a little apart, his smile now as rigid as a mask. When the Earl of Redpool finally staggered out the door, Valentina saw his shoulders visibly slump.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he murmured to his parents. “It’s been a long day.”

“Of course, my son.” Cosimo placed his hand briefly on his shoulder. “You did an excellent job.”

Lorenzo bowed briefly with an expressionless face and disappeared into the house.

“He didn’t even look that exhausted after the sword fight,” remarked Vyxara.

“A quite successful evening,” Duke Cosimo observed as he surveyed the emptying courtyard with satisfaction, where the servants were now busily cleaning up.

“Indeed,” agreed the Duchess, discreetly suppressing a yawn. “If you’ll excuse me now, my husband.”

“Rest well, my dear.” He kissed her hand affectionately.

“Your Grace, do you need my help?” Valentina asked her.

“No, thank you, dear. Beatrice can manage, you can rest now too.”

Valentina curtsied and made her way to her own chambers.

Margaret helped her out of her heavy evening gown. “Wasn’t it a lovely reception, Milady? The cooks outdid themselves. We got some of the food in the servants’ wing too.”

“The food was truly fantastic,” Valentina agreed as the green dress was pulled over her head. “You may retire, Margaret. I can manage on my own.”

The maid curtsied and disappeared. Valentina washed her face with cool water, let her hair down, and brushed it slowly. The house grew quieter and quieter, with only the occasional clattering from the kitchen, where the last tidying up was taking place.

She had just sat down in her armchair by the window and picked up a book when the expected soft knock on her door sounded.

“Come in.”

Cosimo’s valet in the corridor. “His Grace awaits you, Milady.”

“Of course,” Valentina murmured. She had expected it. After such an evening, Cosimo would be enthusiastic.

She put the book aside and rose as the valet politely withdrew. She glanced quickly in the mirror, dabbed a few drops of perfumed oil behind her ears and on her wrists, and slipped on her silk nightgown.

“Ready for the encore?” Vyxara asked with a hint of sympathy.

Valentina sighed quietly in her mind as she walked barefoot through the dark corridors.