Part 23 (1/2)

She nodded. ”His father works for us. We played together when I came here in the summers. We were always such good friends as children. And then I was sent to Paris and I found he was there too, studying art. This time we fell in love-wonderful, pa.s.sionate love. Then my father informed me that I must marry Nicholas. I begged him to change his mind, but he wouldn't listen. A princess always puts duty first, he said. I told him I loved someone else but he forbade me to see him again.” She reached out and covered my hand with her 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-fas.h.i.+oned 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 compa.s.sion. 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 gla.s.s?”

”It had to be an outsider, an a.s.sa.s.sin,” 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 gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s 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 winegla.s.s, 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 to a narrow side staircase. ”My little shortcut to the secret room,” she said. ”This castle is full of them. We used to have such fun playing hide-and-seek when we were children. Except for Siegfried. He was stuffy even then. Watch your step, they are very narrow and it's dark in here.”

She started up the steps ahead of me. I went to follow. One second I was standing on the stone floor; the next, the slab I was standing on tilted downward and I was plunging into darkness.

Chapter 30.

In a dungeon. Not very nice.

Sat.u.r.day, November 19

I was half sliding, half tumbling down a rough stone chute, unable to stop or slow my fall, waiting for the inevitable moment when I would crash onto a hard surface below. The ridiculous image of Alice in Wonderland, falling down the rabbit hole, flashed through my mind as I struck another stone panel that swung open. Then I tumbled into nothing-ness, had an odd sensation of arms reaching out to me, then landing on something softer than I'd expected, before I hit the stone floor and everything went black.

I came back to consciousness to some kind of awful noise-an unearthly wailing sound. I opened my eyes. I was lying on a cold stone floor in almost total darkness. A round white thing was hovering over me-a pale moon face, staring at me with its mouth open in some kind of horrible chant. Then I made out words in the wail.

”Oh, lawks, oh, blimey, oh, miss.”

”Queenie?” I murmured. I tried to sit up and the world swung around alarmingly while a pain shot through my head.

”Sorry, miss. I tried to catch you but you was coming too fast. At least I broke your fall a little.”

”That was you I landed on?” I asked.

”That's right.”

”Goodness. That was brave of you. Did I hurt you?”

”Not too bad. I'm well padded. But you come flying down at such a rate-”

”Well, you would too if the floor suddenly opened up beneath you,” I said.

”I know. I did. Luckily I landed on me b.u.m-pardon the expression, miss-and like I said, I'm well padded. But it weren't no worse than when my old dad used to take his belt to me when I was a kid.” She helped me into a sitting position. ”I ain't half glad I am to see you. You're a proper toff to come and rescue me. I knew you would, of course.”

”I hate to disillusion you, Queenie,” I said, ”but I'm now a captive with you, not your rescuer.”

”Where are we, miss? This ain't half a creepy old place.”

I looked around. We were in a circular chamber. A glimmer of gray light came in through a small grille near the bottom of one wall. Apart from that, every surface was stone. There was no door of any kind.

”I rather fear we're in the oubliette we were joking about earlier.”

”The oobly-what?”

”It's a place where you put unwanted guests,” I said. ”I've heard of them in old castles but I've never actually seen one before. You step on the wrong slab, it opens and you fall into a dungeon where n.o.body will ever find you again.”

”Ooh, don't say that, miss.” She grabbed at my sleeve. ”Someone's going to find us, aren't they?”

”I hope so,” I said. But even as the words came out I wondered who actually knew of the presence of this place. Matty had obviously been told about it because Vlad had grown up here and knew every nook and cranny. But did others know? Servants? Dragomir? I had a horrible vision of everyone hunting for me throughout the castle and not finding me, while Queenie and I starved to death. Not the ending I would have chosen; in fact, I think I'd actually have preferred to marry Prince Siegfried if I'd had an option-which shows you how desperate I was feeling. ”Don't worry,” I said. ”We're going to get out somehow, I promise. How did you come to be in here, by the way?”