Cath turned to Jest. He held the look, and there was something insistent in his gaze. Maybe he was telling her this was all for the best, but she refused to believe it.
Suddenly, the King started clapping, an impulsive, anxious sound. ‘Ah yes – that’s what we’ll do! Let’s have a party!’
Catherine’s attention swivelled back to him. ‘A party!’
‘You were right what you said at the theatre, my sweet,’ said the King, and Catherine cringed. ‘I am the King, and I must do something to make the people of Hearts feel safer. None of this Jabberwock and kidnapping nonsense. We’ll have a great masquerade and then we’ll all dance and eat and be quite merry, and we’ll forget anything bad has ever happened, ever.’
‘That is a terrible idea!’ Cath screeched. ‘Don’t you remember? The Jabberwock attacked the last party you—’
Her anger was muffled by her mother’s hand, slapped over her mouth. ‘Brilliant, Your Majesty. Positively brilliant!’
The King bounced on his toes, pleased with her approval. ‘Tomorrow night, then! And – and –’ He grew suddenly bashful, his cheeks reddening behind his curled moustache. ‘And perhaps I shall have a special announcement to make?’ He waggled his eyebrows at Catherine, and if she hadn’t been caught in her mother’s firm grip, she would have screamed.
‘Now then,’ the King chirped, ‘back to the castle we go. Bring the prisoner. That’s all right, then, uppity-up.’
The guards had begun to move into formation when Jest cleared his throat. ‘Actually, Your Majesty, if I might say one more thing?’
The clearing quieted. All eyes drifted to Jest. Wary, except for Cath, who was panicked and hopeful.
Any spite he’d had before was missing from his expression. All signs of discontent gone. He smiled at the King with an abundance of charm, and said, ‘You have been good to me, Your Majesty.’
The King’s chest lifted and he tugged on the fur trim of his cloak. ‘Ah – why, thank you, Jest.’
‘Which is why it pains me to have betrayed you so, and to now betray you again.’
His yellow gaze found Cath, brimming with unspoken words.
Jest’s body dissolved – a shadow, a flutter, a wisp of ink-dipped quills. Raven cawed and dropped down from the trees and two identical black birds stole away into the night.
CHAPTER 38
CATHERINE BARELY MANAGED TO SMOTHER her grin as she was coaxed back to the house – for her safety, they told her – while the King was ushered into a carriage and carted away and the guards set up a method for searching the perimeter and recapturing Jest.
‘He will be found,’ the Marquess said, again and again, as Cath was loaded into the foyer of their home. ‘You needn’t worry. I know he will be found.’
‘No, he won’t,’ she said, gliding up the steps. ‘And I’m glad for it. You’re all wrong about him.’
‘Halt right there, young miss,’ her mother barked, and Cath’s obedient feet halted on the first landing. She turned back to her parents. Their relief had settled into some sort of frazzled frustration. There was a shadow on her father’s brow, and a twitch at the corner of her mother’s mouth. ‘I don’t know what that boy has done to you,’ she said, planting her hands on her hips, ‘but it’s over now and we are never to speak of him again. We shall go on as if none of this has happened, and you are to start showing some appreciation for all we’ve done for you, and some gratitude towards His Majesty!’
‘Gratitude! What has he done to be grateful for?’
‘He has preserved your honour, that’s what! Any other man would have called off the courtship immediately after hearing that you were carried off, twice, in the arms of another man. His Majesty is doing you a great kindness, Catherine. You will respect that, and when you see him tomorrow, I expect you to reward such generosity.’
‘I do not want his generosity, or his kindness, or any other favours!’
Her mother sneered. ‘Then you are a fool.’
‘Good. I’ve become rather fond of fools.’
‘That is enough!’ roared the Marquess.
Catherine clamped shut her lips, silenced by the rarity of her father’s temper. His face had gone flaming red, and though he was in the foyer looking up at Catherine, the look made her feel as inconsequential as a stomped bug.
He spoke slowly, each word carefully measured. ‘You will not disgrace this family any more than you already have.’
Tears stung at Catherine’s eyes, fierce with shame and guilt. Never had her father looked at her like that, spoken to her like that.
Never had she seen such disappointment.
‘You will do as your mother says,’ he continued. ‘You will do your duty as our only daughter. You will not embarrass us again. And should His Majesty ask for your hand, you will accept.’
She started to shake her head. ‘You can’t force me to.’
‘Force you?’ her mother cried. ‘What is wrong with you, child? This is a gift! Though you’ve done nothing to deserve it.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Cath cried. ‘If you’d only met Jest under different circumstances . . . if you talked to him, you would see that he isn’t—’
Her father threw up his hands. ‘I will not listen to this. That boy has done enough harm for one night, and until you are thinking clearly and can begin to behave like the lady we raised you to be, this conversation is ended.’ The Marquess tore off his coat and draped it on the rack beside the door. ‘You will do as we say, Catherine, or you will consider yourself no longer a member of this household.’