Long Past Dawn

11: Secret Conversations

Marie placed her hand on his arm and started to lead Charles to the other group in the drawing room. She stopped in front of her mother and asked for permission for the two of them to leave. It was the only way she could ensure some privacy so that Charles could tell her of the plans. "Mother, Charles wants to see our pottery collection. I thought I might show him around myself."

The Grand Duchess surveyed the situation and turned to look at Lady Trenwell, she nodded at her. "Why don't you take Lady Beatrice with you?" Then turning to Charles, "She'd be able to give a much better description of the pottery."

Marie caught Roseanne's eye accidentally, fearing that she would catch on to their plan, she lowered her eyes and replied to her mother, "I'd rather do it myself without her help."

Should she say that Beatrice had left for her room?

"I think she is busy at the moment. Besides, I'd be able to remember my art history lessons better if I get to practice them on Charles."

The Grand Duchess continued, more interested in Charles' interest in the pottery collection, "Sure, Marie. But, Charles, if you do want to know more about the pottery, do not be afraid to ask Lady Beatrice the next time you visit."

"Of course, Your Grace," Charles bowed his head.

As soon as the Grand Duchess had dismissed them with a wave, Marie began walking briskly to the exit and, taking the right turn, walked by a sort corridor where two guards were stationed. When they reached the pottery room, she closed the door behind them.

"What a whole lot of trouble," Charles let out a sigh, although his eyes were twinkling with excitement.

"I know," Marie sighed, "formalities bore me infinitely!"

He laughed and held her hand in his.

"It's true." She continued, "The pottery room is definitely soundproof. If we stayed in the corridor, they could hear us if someone walked past. And we do need a reason to suddenly disappear. How suspicious would that seem?" They were still holding hands and she took him on a little walk through the collections.

Charles tried to look at each one of them, "You aren't going to actually make me look at them, are you?"

She laughed and stopped walking. "No, we just have a lot of time. Now, tell me, what is it?"

He bit his lip.

Marie wondered if it was hesitation or him just thinking.

Charles put his hands in his pockets this time, "An excursion, Lady Marie, to the country! No, but not the way you think of it. The real country, where the land is owned by farming families and not yet sold up as land for titles."

Marie looked at him, trying to push her initial surprised face away. He seemed truly eager, his right hand was jingling keys in his pocket and his eyes were looking all over the room.

Surely, it wasn't allowed, was it? No one in the upper classes had any business there, unless they had bought the land. It was prohibited, to say the least, by social custom. She saw the impossibility of such an event; how could the Duchess approve of that?

"Like, where the peasants live?"

Her statement was so genuine that Charles couldn't hold back his laughter and he was forced to turn his back towards her. "No, I'm sorry," he said turning back again. "Yes. . . where the peasants live, Marie."

Marie didn't take offence and almost started laughing herself. She thought about the idea. There was that enticement of adventure. Wouldn't it be nice to do something different after all? Seeing her country from a different perspective?

Charles had noticed all of these emotions and thoughts going past her, being her friend, he knew her reactions well. Worried that she might overthink, he placed both his hands on her arms. "So?"

"Well," she hesitated, "h-have you done it before?"

"No," he answered, proudly. "It'll be completely new."

"Who do you intend on taking?"

"Anyone that you like." He said simply, dropping his arms.

Marie could see that not working so well. How would Beatrice react? She would have to know about this as well to keep her from voicing any suspicions to the Grand Duchess.

"I've already told Dennis," He added, slowly, as if to drag out the effect of the words, "Your dear Dennis, Marquess of Dianthus. . ."

She whispered, "Have you?"

Charles' lips formed a smile. "Yes, really."

"What did he say? Does he like it—" She stopped herself. There could always be the possibility . . . No, but that wasn't worth thinking. "Well?"

"Of course," Charles said, "he's in, but he says the group must have ladies. Come on, Marie, of course I thought of you when he said there are ladies to be invited."

Marie's thoughts went back. This was safe with Charles, she could tell him. "Lady Roseanne said she received a note from him this morning. Do you think he could have invited her already and not even thought about me?"

"I'm not sure about that, but I doubt it anyway. You see, he asked me to ask you. I don't blame him," he smiled, "he said he couldn't bring himself to ask the Grand Duke of Celandine's daughter if she would like to sneak out to countryside. Oh, but of course, expect me to do that," he grinned.

"You know I'd never get offended by anything you say, Charles." She placed her hand on the display table to lean on. "I think it might be worth thinking about. Especially since—"

"Since dear Lord Dianthus is going, huh?" He nudged her arm and gave her a wink.

"Oh," Marie could feel her cheeks colouring, "well, I'd think you'd be just as happy if you heard Beatrice was going."

At this, Charles tensed up and he tapped his feet on the granite floors. "I'm a lost cause with Beatrice, aren't I?" He ran his hands through his blond curls. "No, don't shake your head, it's true. She can't even stand me."

"Oh Charles," Marie placed both her hands on him and drew him closer, "you don't have to feel that way. Bea can be really mean sometimes. If she doesn't realise how good you are, it's just going to be her loss. You're wonderful. But, you know, I do think she likes you. I can tell, but it won't be easy to make her acknowledge it. I think she can be a bit scared of her emotions sometimes."

He distanced himself a little; her speech had an effect on him. "Well, I don't know how right you might be, but at least you made me feel a little less miserable." He smiled at her as he looked into those familiar dark eyes.