Royal Blood - By Rhys Bowen Page 0,102

cold one. “In the end one does one’s duty. Just like you and Siegfried. I’m sure you don’t love him. You can’t love him. But you do what the family expects of you.”

I nodded. “It must be really hard for you. I’m not sure I can actually marry a man I don’t love.”

“Vlad wanted me to run away with him,” she whispered, glancing up to make sure that the other occupants of the salon were still far away and engaged in activity. “We’d live together in Paris and be happy. But I’d been brought up with duty rammed down my throat. I couldn’t do it.”

“So you asked to have the wedding here because of your happy memories?”

“Vlad suggested it so that we could be together one last time,” she said. “He promised he’d find a way to come and see me. He knows this castle so well. You saw him climbing up the wall, didn’t you? He always was one for taking horrible risks, but how else could he get in to see me without being seen himself?”

“You left a rope for him hanging down?”

“No, I had no idea he was going to try to scale the wall. We attached the rope afterward, from my maid’s room, in case he had to make a hasty retreat.”

“And I am sleeping in your old bedroom,” I said, understanding now. “He was expecting to find you there. No wonder he looked so surprised.”

“Yes, my parents announced at the last minute that I must sleep as far as possible from my future bridegroom and close to my chaperon, Countess Von Durnstein, until the wedding. My father is very much into old-fashioned protocol, you know.”

“Is Vlad still here?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. There are fortunately several secret rooms in the castle. He’s been hiding out and my maid, Estelle, is so wonderfully loyal. She brings him food. And speaking of food—you also saw my other guilty secret, did you not?”

“When was that?”

“In the hallway outside the kitchen,” she whispered, glancing around again. “I couldn’t resist, you know.”

“What exactly were you doing?” I asked cautiously, not really wanting the answer.

She leaned closer. “Cook’s cherry tarts. All that wonderful gooey cherry jam. I went down to the kitchen and she’d been baking them. I stole a couple. I’ve had to be on this strict diet, you see, so that I fit into the wedding dress, but I’ve always had trouble with my weight. I like to eat. That was another thing—Vlad didn’t care when I had meat on my bones. He loved me just as I was.” She chewed on her lip. “Now I’m afraid that Nicolas will not like me if I put back the weight and he sees me as I was when I was eating normally.”

I looked at her with compassion. I could understand how awful it must be to give up one’s true love and marry someone one doesn’t love at all. And to condemn oneself to not eating. But I couldn’t forget the big question that still remained unanswered. “Matty, about Pirin’s death. Do you know who put the poison in that glass?”

“It had to be an outsider, an assassin,” she said. “Who else could it be?”

“You don’t think that your Vlad might have . . .”

“Killed a foreign field marshal? Why would he do that?” she demanded angrily.

“Matty, there’s something you should know,” I said, realizing I was taking a risk. “The glass of wine was intended for Nicholas.”

“What?”

“Pirin was a peasant,” I said. “He had never learned decent table manners. And he was very drunk. He grabbed the nearest full glass of wine when he made that toast and he grabbed it with his left hand. I was sitting opposite him. I saw. It was Nicholas’s wineglass, only Nicholas had switched to drinking champagne when the toasts started, remember?”

“No,” she said so loudly that the other women in the room looked over at us. Then she shook her head violently and lowered her voice again. “No, that’s ridiculous. Unthinkable. Vlad would never. He’s sweet. He’s kind. You should see how he treated me in Paris. Like a princess should be treated.” She took my hand. “I can trust you as my dear old friend. Come and meet him for yourself, come and ask him yourself, then you’ll see. I’ve told him about you, and soon you are to be my dear sister.”

“All right,” I said.

She led me out of the salon, then opened a door in the paneled wall that led