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Chapter One
“Lady Averley, are you attending?”
Emily Blythe-Coston, Countess of Averley, turned to see the queen gazing at her with an expectant look on her face. The queen was young and pretty, the roundness of her circular face accentuated by her middle part and the sleek sweep of her dark hair fastened into a low bun at her nape and embellished with a froth of lace.
The queen and her ladies-in-waiting were seated side-by-side in an open carriage currently moving slowly through Hyde Park. Across from her, the Duchess of Charlemont, an older woman with gray hair covered by an old-fashioned cap, frowned at Emily in disapproval. Lady Jocelyn, closer to Emily’s age of thirty-one, gave Emily a look of concern. Emily could only imagine how long the queen had been talking to her with no response. She’d been thinking about her husband.
Her dead husband.
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” Emily managed. “The day is so lovely that I was distracted.”
The Duchess of Charlemont snorted, and Queen Victoria raised her brows. She gazed about her and, belatedly, Emily realized the day was cold and gloomy, not a day to compliment at all.
“Are you feeling quite well?” the queen asked. “Perhaps we should return home.” She raised a hand and Prince Albert, her young and dashing husband, was immediately beside her on his regal mount. He was an attentive husband and a good father.Seeing the way he cared for his wife had made Emily’s heart ache for her own husband at times.
“Are you cold, darling?”
“We are quite well, but I fear Lady Averley is unwell.”
Emily shook her head. This was mortifying. She had been the one to suggest a ride in the park. She’d felt so cooped up in the palace the last few days and had longed to go out and breathe fresh air. The other ladies-in-waiting had argued against such a venture as it was cold even for spring. But after days of rain, the queen must have also wanted an outing. She’d ordered the older children be taken for a walk around the grounds of the palace and quite easily agreed to Emily’s proposal of a ride in the park.
Emily felt somewhat guilty, as she’d known the queen would agree to her plan. Victoria was young and inquisitive and liked to see her subjects whenever possible. Despite the rain, dozens of people stood on the sides of the carriage path and waved to the queen.
“I assure Your Highness, I am quite well,” Emily protested meekly.
The prince, presented with this female disagreement, allowed his horse to fall back so the ladies might discuss in private.
The queen sat back, looking small and quite young in her voluminous wrap. Shewassmall, a petite woman who made Emily feel tall, even though she was on the shorter side herself. “Then we suppose our conversation was not to your liking,” Victoria said.
“Not at all, Your Highness. The fault is mine entirely. I was distracted by my own—”
A loud explosion of sound followed by a rush of hot air so shocked Emily that she did not finish her words. The guards surrounding the carriage erupted into a frenzy, and she heard someone yell, “Pistol!”
Emily didn’t think. She threw herself over the queen, covering the monarch with her own body. Lady Jocelyn threw herself on the queen’s other side, and the two ladies gently lowered the queen to the floor of the carriage. Victoria protested loudly, but Emily ignored her, keeping her own head down and her body over the queen’s as a shield.
Her heart pounded, and she couldn’t manage a breath. Her lungs burned, and she feared she had been struck. Emily prayed it was just her terror and not a pistol ball.
Emily couldn’t see anything, but the sound of men’s voices yelling in panic and the jolt of the carriage as the coachman spurred the horses into a gallop made her already racing heart pound so hard it too hurt her chest.
Someone was shooting at the queen.
Again.
Emily bit her lip to keep from crying. She had to be strong and calm. She could not allow the panic threatening to well up inside her to escape. This wasn’t the first time one of her subjects had tried to assassinate Victoria, but the Guard had been certain the threat was over. The last attempt had been years ago and the lad who had shot at the queen—quite mad, poor fellow—had been apprehended. Now someone else was shooting at the monarch and the rest of her entourage as well. Bursting into tears would help no one.
“Let me up!” The queen’s demands became strenuous enough that Emily and Lady Jocelyn could no longer ignore them. Emily raised her head and tried to make sense of the blur of colors and shapes. The coachman had steered the queen’s carriage into the trees just off the driving path in the park. Several guards surrounded the conveyance, while others could be heard shouting in the distance. No doubt they were pursuing the would-be assailant. “I cannot breathe down here.”
Emily and Lady Jocelyn assisted the queen back onto the carriage seat, and she gulped in air. Emily needed air as well. Her lungs were still constricted and her breaths short and rapid. Damn her corset. It dug into her abdomen and made taking a deep breath impossible at the moment.
“You are quite safe now.” The captain of the guard rode up on horseback. He was a man of middle years but still fit and sure on a horse. He gave the ladies a smile that was probably supposed to be reassuring but was so obviously forced, it only made Emily more concerned. “We will have you back at the palace in a few minutes.”
The duchess harrumphed loudly on the other side of the vehicle. Emily had quite forgotten about her, but now she glanced at the duchess and noticed she didn’t even appear ruffled. She sat, her face quite placid, as though being shot at and subjected to a mad dash through the woods were everyday activities. “You wanted excitement, Lady Averley.” She narrowed her eyes at Emily. “Now you have it.”
Emily blinked for a moment as she sought to make sense of the woman’s words. “I did not want excitement, Your Grace,” she argued, though such behavior was most unbecoming in a lady, especially one of the queen’s ladies. “I merely wanted fresh air.”
“It was you who cajoled the queen to leave the palace. I wanted to stay in,” Lady Jocelyn said with a note of accusation in her voice. “And now the day is ruined, and we are returning without the prince.” Her voice was tremulous, perilously close to tears. Emily’s patience was at the breaking point, and she bit her lip to keep from retorting.
Lady Jocelyn’s wavering voice caused the queen to sit up quickly, even as the carriage began to move, making them all lurch back. “Albert?” she called. When he didn’t reply, she addressed her guards. “Where is the prince?”
