A Matter Of Delicacy

The Journey

     Of course, the journey to London was horrific. I was crammed in opposite Lady Bruce who insisted on spreading her fine gown over the seat and making me sit with my back to the rider. I couldn't see properly out of the windows in the dark and even with my smallsword resting over my knees I felt vulnerable and weak without an idea of what we were driving towards.
     It felt even stranger to be travelling without Father. In our small village the prying neighbours would fall over the news that I had disappeared in the dead of night and so he had decided to stay behind to cover my tracks. But without him by my side I was left without my teacher. That had rarely gone well.
     As promised Lady Bruce explained my instructions on our journey, as we were jolted and bumped in the small carriage, driven too quickly over the country roads. She continued to look pristine in her dress and jewels, not letting the journey ruffle her in the slightest. How did she do it? I always ended a journey looking like a bedraggled cat, but she remained untouched.
     'I don't know how much of the London news you already know, Miss Wentworth,' she said, looking out of the window into the darkness beyond. 'But what I am about to tell you very few people are aware of.'
     I kept quiet; any sound I made might disturb her and she was not the sort of woman I wanted irritated at me.
     'Have you heard of the 'Delicate Investigation'?' she said, looking at me carefully out of the corner of her eye.
     I shook my head, my fingers wrapping around the scabbard of my smallsword.
     'I didn't think so,' she looked back out of the window, as if my intelligence had been assessed and she now felt safe to carry on. I flinched as the carriage went over a hole in the road and ran my thumb over the decoration of the scabbard for comfort.
     'Approximately six months ago Princess Caroline was investigated by lawyers connected to the Prince. The charges were that an adulterous relationship had led to the birth of a child. This child, William Austin, is a young boy of about four who is among the Princess's entourage.'
     'An affair?' I couldn't say I was shocked, the stories that flew around the country about our eccentric Princess went further than adultery. But I was surprised at the idea that they were perhaps legitimate; what with status and wealth at risk, let alone the precarious political situation of Europe at the moment, it was hardly a tactical move.
     Lady Bruce pursed her lips at my interruption. 'Yes, Miss Wentworth, an affair. However, there was no evidence for it. In fact, the child is the son of a minor Lady's daughter but, of course, that would not furnish the Prince with the adultery charge that he so needs for a divorce.'
     Again the carriage dipped loudly into a crack in the road and I gritted my teeth. I hated this - the cooped-up space, the lack of vision. If anything attacked us here I couldn't protect Lady Bruce without serious work.
     'Then, a few months ago, after a halt in this frankly ridiculous case, a man broke into the palace.' She cleared her throat to ensure my attention. 'This man, a lesser nobleman from Germany who had been living in England for four years managed to get into the house, walk straight into the Princess's bedroom and attempt an assassination.'
     'Attempt? I'm glad to hear he was unsuccessful.'
     'The Princess had woken in the night and had called for a musician to entertain her. She was sitting by the fire when the man came in and managed to hit him with a pair of fire tongs. The guards took him and we hear that he is being held.'
     Princess Caroline's fortitude impressed me, from what I had heard she was a rather silly woman who would dissolve into tears at any moment. 'Lady Bruce, my I ask why you came to me? And, indeed, how you knew of me at all? I tend to keep my profession as quiet as possible and I've yet to serve a member of the royal family.'
     'Indeed.' She hardly looked thrilled at the mention of my 'profession' but by this time I was getting jittery from the carriage and her tale had given me no information. 'But in 1803 you did serve the Holy Roman Emperor, and, as far as I recall, managed to save him from a rather unpleasant poison.'
     I frowned, how on earth had she heard about that? I was still in my professional infancy three years ago and finding the poison had been pure coincidence. Father had said he'd kept the incident hushed up, but apparently, my earlier missions were not as secret as I had assumed.
     'Then, in 1804 you served a high-ranking Italian noble escape from Italy, at great risk to your own life. In 1805 you were working in France, sabotaging Napoleon's communication lines and smuggling English nobles out. Earlier this year you were again working in Italy, protecting another Duke, whose name shall remain out of this conversation, to rebel against Napoleon.' She looked at me down her long nose, 'Sadly this attempt was unsuccessful, resulting in a lasting wound to yourself and the execution of this nobleman.'
     I didn't realise my jaw was clenched until she stopped speaking. Three years ago, in the Holy Roman Empire, I had been a naive girl of seventeen, revelling in the adventurous world I had stepped into. From then on each mission had made me grow, adapt, until now when I was barely a shadow of my former, flippant, slap-happy, self. To hear the fruit of years of work reduced to a few sentences filled me with dread about what was about to be asked of me.
     'These operations, though subtle, have gained you a little reputation among certain circles; I'm sure you don't mind being called the Silver Sword.' She smirked, 'a little fanciful I think, but the Princess is never one to shirk the drama of a mysterious name. You were recommended by a Viscount, who shall remain anonymous, and Princess Caroline was adamant that I fetch you.'
     'Have there been other attempts on her life?'
     'Yes. Since the fire tong incident, there have been three. Each has come closer to succeeding and the Princess has gone through guards like a husband-hunter through a dance-card. She needs someone who will be with her at all times, someone who can be subtle, understated, hidden.'
     I remembered all the times over the last three years when I had stood, 'hidden' in corners, covered by the shadow of curtains and buildings, sneaking through crowds and holding my breath behind corners. Hidden was a technique I excelled at.
     'I am taking you to London to meet the Princess,' Lady Bruce smoothed the satin of her dress and clasped her hands. 'Then you will become one of her ladies-in waiting, to follow her and be at her side whenever she requires it. One wrong move could cost the Princess her life, but I have been assured that the Silver Sword can manage it.'
     A lady-in-waiting?! My jaw dropped. Ladies were always Duchesses, Countesses, daughters of Earls, not untitled young women from Somerset. Me? My heart started thudding in my chest, louder than it had when I was hiding from the French in Milan. I would have to attend balls, dinner parties, operas. I would have to learn to look and sound like I had been in society my entire life. I would have to remember etiquette and the proper titles. I could wield my smallsword in my sleep and could even make a strong hand at archery or bareback horse riding, but this?
     For this I was unprepared.