Royal Regard by Mariana Gabrielle

.
“Whoever told you that was playing you false. I can easily find
someone proficient. An advertisement will be placed this
afternoon.”
    “You are no longer responsible for my
deportment. And you might look to your own house. You are running
to fat these days.”
    Charlotte’s nostrils flared and her nose
wrinkled as she made an unidentifiable sound in the back of her
throat. It had been years since Bella had needed to determine her
cousin’s moods by ear, but this was suspiciously like the noise
Charlotte made when she might begin to cry, so Bella conceded,
showing Charlotte it was a tease with a small smile.
    Emotions once more in check, Charlotte
responded with a slight chill. “As long as you won’t have a care
for your appearance, I will, and my figure is my husband’s concern,
not yours. I’ve given him two children, and he likes me the way I
am.” She punctuated her comment with a hard nod. “You, on the other
hand, will need a new husband in no time at all. Your suitors may
as well be handsome and rich, considering your new title and all
you’ll inherit. Just as easy to wed a handsome man as a hideous
one, all fortunes being equal.”
    “Charlotte! Mind your tongue!”
    “Why? Myron looks like his legs will go out
from under him any second.”
    “Please do not make me a dowager before my
time, nor wish my husband dead. And there is no way to know whether
the king will confer a title. He is changeable, and Myron and I
know it better than anyone. If we had a guinea for every time he
sent us someplace we didn’t intend—”
    “Don’t you, though?” Charlotte asked,
shrewdly. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice, looking around
to ensure no servants were in the room. “Before the Brewster’s
ball, you will be the Countess of Huntleigh. Myron will receive the
Writ of Summons tomorrow, and the king intends to hand it to him
personally.”
    Bella touched the back of her hand to her
lips. “As soon as that?” When she realized she was staring
wide-eyed, she schooled her expression to something more
appropriate than the look of a little girl given a new doll.
    “Alexander has it from Lord Pinnester, who
was there when His Majesty gave the order.”
    “I must admit,” Bella relaxed her mouth and
her shaky hands, picking out a short row of bad stitches. “I am so
proud of Myron. He has given his life to the Crown, almost
literally on more occasions than I care to consider. He deserves to
be recognized for it.”
    “Myron’s valet must be informed right away.”
Charlotte removed a tangled skein of violet thread from Bella’s
sewing basket and began to work out the knots. Bella took the silk
from her hand, replacing it with hopelessly snarled dark green that
matched the outlined leaves on the robin’s branch.
    Bella wiped her eyes clean of both anxiety
and satisfaction, leaving her face untouchable. “He has no valet,
Charlotte. We travelled very simply in three rooms on the frigate.
I was his valet; he was my lady’s maid.”
    “No valet?” Charlotte’s voice grew shriller
with every lapse. “And an audience with the king tomorrow? Heavens.
I’ll send Alexander’s man back here as soon as I arrive home, and
place two advertisements.” She looked around again and dropped her
voice. “And never again refer to the Earl of Huntleigh as a lady’s
maid.”
    Bella dropped her sewing into her lap. “We
need no—”
    “You have no idea what you need. My maid will
keep you from appearing before the king in men’s trousers and clogs
with your hair looking like…” Charlotte’s eyebrows turned in intent
on Bella’s appearance, “like that .”
    “Charlotte, you cannot—”
    “I can. I will. I will outrank you even once
you are a countess, so simply say, ‘Yes, my lady. Thank you, my
lady,’ and consider it done.”
    “I will hang myself from London Bridge before
I call you ‘my lady,’” Bella said, as she pulled the thread through
the linen.
    Rather than jabbing Bella with a