CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 24

From behind me I heard a deep groan.

Tommaso stared in confusion. "Lady Rosaline, what?"

"I was merely . . . clearing my throat." I stood and spread my skirts to hide any sign Lysander had disarrayed the shrubbery. "Do as I instructed you with Princess Isabella. Take Prince Escalus to the great hall and serve him refreshments. I'll bring the princess to him—"

"He comes now!" Tommaso gestured up the path.

No.My siblings were fighting, probably with Isabella, my mother was angry at me, Lysander hid in our shrubbery . . . and the prince was here? I didn't have to look up to know the boxes full of disaster had fallen on my sinful head. "Go and tell Lord Romeo and Lady Juliet at once. I'll try to delay the prince."

Tommaso bowed and stood there, all awkward legs and arms, as if the weight of the responsibility had robbed him of sense.

"They're at the swing. Go!" I urged. "Quickly!"

He ran.

I listened. The hubbub of childish shouting had calmed. I hoped my mother had worked her magic and I prayed that no one had fatally offended Princess Isabella. Or, more important, given her a shove that knocked her to the ground and dirtied her elegant gown. Stepping out on the path, I prepared to walk to meet Prince Escalus.

He was already there, striding purposefully as if he rued his decision to send his sister into our keeping.

My job: keep the chaos of her visit a secret long enough for my parents to receive the news of his arrival and deal accordingly.

I smiled widely and curtsied deeply. "My prince, what a pleasure to welcome you to our humble abode!"

He stopped. He viewed me without favor and, dare I say it, with suspicion. "I've come to escort my sister home."

"My prince, she's playing with the other children." I gestured toward the swing.

"You left her alone with your sisters and brother?" Clearly, he was offended and worried.

Which made me a little cranky and as happened sometimes, I spoke without thinking. "They're not beasts, you know."

"No, but Isabella's unused to being surrounded by rambunctious children of so many and varied ages. I thought I could trust you to remain nearby as a safeguard for her finer feelings."

"I assure you, she has no feelings finer than any of my family." That probably wasn't true, the younger kids could be savages, but he had my blood up. I forcibly reminded myself I should appease him . . . and stall him. "That said, Lord Romeo and Lady Juliet are now with my siblings and your sister."

"Why are you not with them?"

Because my father and I had discussed the current disaster, and my mother had caught us and dragged us across flickering blue coals of shame."After our morning, I was content to allow my parents to mediate the children."

"Mediate? They required mediation?"

I got snappish again. "Yes, and some believe my skills are subpar." I allowed myself a short breath, and before he spoke again, I added, "But all is well now. Before we join them, Prince Escalus, may I inquire what you discovered about Porcia's death?"

"As a female, you should not worry about the progress of justice in Verona."

"I'm more involved in this case than I wish to be."

Perhaps my reminder sounded brisk, for he looked up the path as if he feared for his sister's well-being, then back at me.

I smiled with false affability.

He gestured into the alcove I'd recently vacated.

Which, with Lysander lurking nearby, was not what I intended, but I could hardly complain about getting my way.

Prince Escalus waited while I seated myself, then sat beside me looking stiff and displeased. "I spoke to Porcia's husband's father and mother. The first they knew of her death was this morning when her maid's shrieks roused them. The maid told them when Porcia arrived back from last night's festivities, she violently expressed her displeasure with you, me, Duke Stephano's murder, and the events that meant she must forthwith return to her parents' home. She opened a box of sweetmeats placed upon her pillow and consumed several before retiring."

"Had the maid seen the box before?"

"No. She said she had no idea how it came to be there."

I asked the questions Prince Escalus must surely have asked. "Do we know for sure it's murder? That the sweetmeats were poisoned? Could it not have been another food or drink?"

"The maid claimed that Porcia had tossed her one piece of the candy. She might have stolen it, but I believe her, for she complained that it was the smallest piece."

I released a wry laugh. "Yes, that would be Porcia."

"That it was the smallest piece may have saved the girl's life. She was up all night, violently ill, keeping the other maids awake with her vomiting, and this morning appeared pale, drawn, and sweaty . . . and desperately afraid she'll have no place in any household after her failure to prevent Porcia's murder."

"The poor maid!" My heart contracted as I thought of her despair. "Perhaps we could take her into our household and—"

Prince Escalus turned his heavy-lidded gaze on me, and his expression was not complimentary. "You could employ a maid involved in Porcia's murder when suspicion already has been cast on you? I think not!"

"No, but—"

"She's currently traveling to my country house, where she'll be employed."

"Oh." I hadn't expected that. "That's kind of you."

"You don't have to sound so surprised." His expression, his voice, was austere.

"No, I . . ." I was surprised, but why? True, he was not like us, like the Montagues. We were a loud, exuberant, contentious, laughing, singing, loving and passionate family.

Prince Escalus was . . . the opposite. In every way that I knew. Yet he had learned the meaning of loyalty in a hard school, and he knew what it was to be abandoned and despairing, huddled in a dungeon, tortured and afraid. And hungry, I supposed.

I placed my hand on my chest and made a small bow. "Forgive me, my prince. Not many noblemen would care what happened to a poor girl, but you are more than the sum of most noblemen."

"I am the Prince of Verona."

I heard his unspoken words. And I know my duty.

He continued. "Which is why I seek justice for even such a one as Porcia. Whatever knowledge you have of her could shed light on this murder."

"Porcia's greedy fondness for sweetmeats is well known among her acquaintances."

The prince contemplated me.

I saw assessment in his gaze. "I didn't poison her, my prince. Nor did my nurse."

"No, but with that knowledge, how easily the task was done. I interrogated the household staff. No one admitted they had knowledge of the box and how it arrived in the casa, and when I asked, none had noted any stranger lurking in the corridors."

"I'd be suspicious of any maid or footman who pointed a finger or claimed to know about the crime. It's not in a servant's interest to know too much about such trouble."

"No. Yet they spoke fondly of their young master Troilus, who died soon after his marriage to Porcia, and not so fondly about Porcia herself. Without saying in so many words, they insinuated their master and mistress held disdain for their daughter-in-law."

"Ah, Porcia. Making friends wherever she goes." I crossed myself and added hastily, "May God rest her soul."

Prince Escalus crossed himself, also. To attract the attention of the recently dead, to mention their name, especially one who died by cruel poison, was to invite bad luck and, worse, a ghostly haunting. We had trouble enough without Porcia returning for vengeance. I'd hear the taunt of virgin in my sleep.

Although, with Lysander, I had hopes virginity might soon be a thing of the past. I smiled a little, then noticed the silence.

Prince Escalus watched me, heavy-lidded, far too interested in my thoughts. Or perhaps it was merely the facts of the crime that consumed him. "Whoever placed the box of sweetmeats on her pillow didn't need to walk the halls. As in so many Veronese homes, secret passages abound if one knows where to find them."

"But how would someone enter without being detected?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I should have kept mum. Really, Rosie, could you put a cork in your wine barrel?

"The great houses are fortified against an army, yet a single person may enter easily, with guests, with staff . . . and as we both know, over the wall."

I heard an abrupt rustling behind us. A quick glance at Prince Escalus proved him oblivious and intent on his report.

He said, "There was no dissembling from Porcia's in-laws. They made it clear they had wished for an excuse to be rid of her. During my visit, her own parents arrived and were also less than pleased that she had been coming back to their home. No one seemed particularly grieved at her passing, merely shocked at the manner of it."

I would speak her name and of her reputation, but only to give Prince Escalus background in his pursuit of justice. "Make no mistake, Porcia had her circle of friends, mean girls who delighted in tormenting anyone they perceived as awkward, unstylish, unpolished—"

"A virgin?" Prince Escalus suggested blandly.

"Yes, that too." I was not amused at his reminder. "Porcia was the center of that mean-girl circle, and she was like a tick that dug under one's skin and drained one of confidence. She, like Duke Stephano, had enemies."

"Not just you?"

"Not just me."

"My investigation will continue." He stood. "I hear the approach of your family."