But she did not create that print! Why did they not drag in whoever had done it?
Perhaps she had not created it, but she had caused it.
Verity felt a terror begin to overtake her. Was she going to prison? Or perhaps she would be banished from London. Just this moment, she would not mind running home to the peace of the Dales.
Two footmen, who appeared far more stern than Thomas and Charlie ever did and were dressed in exquisite royal equipage, threw a pair of massive double doors open.
“I leave you here,” the Lord Chamberlain said.
The room was of large dimensions. Everything in it seemed oversized, the chandeliers seemed to stretch five feet across, each of the sofas could accommodate ten people. Largest of all, though, if not in size than in effect, was the queen.
She sat in a gilded chair, cushioned in a lively Indian print. She was, perhaps, not the most handsome woman, and she was past her middle age. However, none of that dampened the effect of her—she was a queen and it seemed to radiate from her very being. Her eyes were a little sharper, her chin a little higher, her expression eminently composed.
Lady Pembroke pushed Verity through the doors, took her by the arm, and marched her in front of Queen Charlotte. Verity curtsied low.
“Lady Verity Nicolet, Your Majesty,” Lady Pembroke said, rising from her own curtsy.
“Ah, Lady Pembroke, you always carry out my requests so efficiently. Well, I suppose we had better have tea.”
Tea? Verity watched a footman slip out the door to fetch it. It seemed they listened closely to everything the queen uttered and then ran to do her bidding when they heard a comment about what was wanted.
Queen Charlotte had nodded, and Lady Pembroke sat down. Verity remained where she was. What was she supposed to do? Stand or sit?
“Sit down,” Lady Pembroke said softly.
Verity curtsied again and hurried to a place on the sofa. To her amazement, a cart wheeled in. Tea. When it had just been asked for not a moment ago. The kitchens must keep water on the boil all day, waiting for a summons.
The accoutrements of the tea tray were rather astonishing. The teapot itself was silver and enormous. It was accompanied by a very large and tiered silver tray, stacked with pastries that appeared flaky and had layers of cream.
“Ah, mille-feuilles,” the queen said. “Always a favorite.”
So that was what they were. A bit fancier than the apple cakes to be found in her father’s house. Verity continued to stare at the pastries, as she did not know where else to look. She had notbeen addressed, nor told why she was there. She certainly had not been told why she was to have tea. She had grown more and more certain that she’d broken a law about respect for anything given the royal seal. But if that were the case, why should she be given tea?
Perhaps she was not to be given it, though. Perhaps it was only for the queen and Lady Pembroke. Nobody had ever told her what to do in such a situation. Of course, that was probably because nobody else had ever been in such a situation.
Another footman had come behind the one who’d wheeled in the tea service. He carried a silver tray with three delicate China cups and saucers. So she was to have tea? It was all so confusing and she wished something would be said. Most of all, she wished Mrs. Right was by her side, holding her hand and ready to do battle in her defense against all comers. Even the queen.
The cups had been set down. Rather than the queen pouring, one of the footmen poured. That was probably because of the size and weight of the teapot. Or maybe it was royal protocol. She did not know.
The footman finished his work, the wheeled cart was removed, and the footmen went to stand by the doors once more.
“Well, Lady Verity? What do you have to say for yourself?” Queen Charlotte said.
“Say, Your Majesty?” Verity repeated, playing for time.
Queen Charlotte reached into the myriad folds of her silk robes and pulled out the print. “About this?”
Yes, of course, that. What to say about it, though? As she was certain the real offense was involving The Royal Society in her nonsense, that was what she must apologize for.
“Your Majesty,” she said, “I never meant to involve The Royal Society. I cannot even understand how the society became involved. I never claimed to know anything about the society orespoused any views on it. Naturally, as it is TheRoyalSociety, with a royal seal, I hold it in the highest regard…Without knowing anything about it. I am entirely sorry to have involved anything royal. I hold all things royal in the highest regard. The very highest. As I’ve said.”
There was a moment of silence.
Verity hurried on. “I understand that Wedgewood is preferred by Your Majesty and called Queen’s Ware. Rest assured, whenever my father needs new plates, those will be the plates he purchases. I believe I can confidently speak for him on that front. Because they’ve been given the royal seal of approval, so what else would we buy?”
Verity was well aware that she was babbling now. It was very hard to stop under the intense gaze of these two formidable ladies. She forced herself too, though, as she could not think of a single other thing the queen might have endorsed. Was she even right about Wedgewood? She was not entirely certain!
The queen and Lady Pembroke roared with laughter. Verity hardly knew what to think. She weakly smiled, as that seemed to be the best approach since they were laughing. But what were they laughing about?
