Page 96 of The Favourite

He did not answer for a moment, just circled his hand across her back. “Well, no one else knew her like you did,” he said at last. “Here, she just came across as another ambitious beauty.”

Jane nodded. This, she already knew. “Perhaps when Celestia is older …”

“How about Ayleth?” he suggested. “Can you not talk to her?”

“Ayleth was devoted to my sister,” Jane replied. “Fiercely devoted, but their relationship … was not that of equals.” She struggled a moment to express what she meant. “Ayleth viewed Helen through the eyes of a devotee, almost,” she said slowly.

“She will turn your sister’s memory into that of some martyred saint?” he suggested with a frown in his voice. “We should probably get rid of her before she can pour any of that nonsense into Celestia’s ears.”

“I don’t think we need to worry about that for a few years.”

“Hmm.”

“I don’t know what to do about Ayleth,” she admitted wretchedly. “I think she is desperately unhappy and … and in need of a new cause, almost.”

“Well, I don’t want that cause to be raising our child in some cult devoted to your departed sister.”

Jane had to work hard not to bristle with offense. “She does not really show much interest in the baby, Alisander,” she said, lifting her head from his shoulder.

“That’s true,” he conceded. “I don’t think she’s the type.” He reached up to stroke a thumb over her cheek. “Let us simply keep a watchful eye on the situation, then.”

She nodded and lowered her head again with a sigh. Her eyes were drifting shut again. When she heard him speak, she was too tired for the words to register. “What did you say?” She roused herself.

“I said go to sleep now, Jane,” he said in an amused voice, but she was already there.

22

The next morning, Alisander finally paid his courtesy visit to the Guild of Glaziers at their premises on Jarman Street. As their new patron, he had received an open invitation, and he spent a pleasant enough morning being fawned over by Master Arnold and his fellow members.

It was true, they were inclined to be a little stiff and awkward at first, for it was plain that his foreignness was off-putting to them, and his outfit, a pearl-encrusted tunic of burgundy velvet, a little flamboyant for their tastes. Fortunately, he was in high good humor and had a mind to charm them, so they soon relaxed in his presence and warmed up to him.

He received his tour of their headquarters and partook of their bland refreshments with every evidence of pleasure, and soon they were giving him an enthusiastic account of the expansions they desired to make and unfurling many detailed sketches to share with him.

Alisander looked duly impressed, nodded, and even managed a few shrewd suggestions of his own, which went down a storm, until even the most unenthusiastic member of the welcoming party was viewing him with unreserved approval. Promising them he would arrange the necessary meetings at court to obtain the permissions they needed, he bade them farewell and returned to the palace.

To his disquiet, he found his good humor fading with the amount of time he spent away from his wife. He was sorely tempted to return to her at midday, for no good reason at all. Indeed, it would take him out of his way to do such a thing, for he had business at the other end of the castle.

He just about resisted the lure though he knew Jane would be delightfully tense and stewing on her return to palace circulation on the morrow. The opportunity to tease and distract her out of her anxieties was incredibly tempting.

Instead, he was mindful of his duty and wended his steps toward the palace gardens. Once there, he headed down the long path flanked with hawthorn hedges that led to the King’s orchards. On a cold day in February, the bare trees would hold little appeal for visitors. Presumably, that was why Hubair had suggested it as a spot for their meeting.

He felt a twinge of irritation when he saw the Klobergian ambassador skulking behind an apple tree in his black and yellow striped tunic. Ugh. Listening to Alphonse Hubair prate about conspiracies against Lascony was the last thing he felt like doing. And really, did the fellow think that tree concealed him? He resembled nothing so much as a giant bumble bee. “Ah, there you are Hubair,” he greeted him breezily. “Well met.”

The other whipped around, for he had not spotted Alisander’s approach even though he had not tried to quiet his steps in any way. “Keep your voice down, Bardulf, for heaven’s sake!” he hissed. “You never know where Vawdrey’s spies may be concealed.”

Alisander suppressed a weary sigh. He could already tell that Alphonse was about to be extremely trying. They fell in step together. “Where were you on Tuesday, my friend?” he ventured. “Your absence was … somewhat conspicuous from the gathering in the small gallery.”

Hubair looked startled. “Someone remarked upon it?” he asked, sounding faintly anxious.

“Lord Vawdrey himself,” Alisander responded rather unkindly. Very few people at court, least of all the foreign ambassadors, did not go in some fear of the King’s Chief Advisor and Spy Master.

Hubair paled. “I—er—well.” He cleared his throat. “Some other matter had to take precedence that day.”

“I see.”

“I would hope by now that people are acquainted with my character sufficiently well, to know I would not shirk my duty without good reason,” he said pompously. Alisander held his tongue. Hubair stole a look at him. “I am surprised you had time to attend such a reception, my lord, quite frankly.”

“You mean as a newlywed?” Alisander asked innocently.