A Most Extraordinary Pursuit by Juliana Gray Page A

my injury.
    By then it was nearly eleven o’clock in the morning, and the elation of landing in an exotic land had fallen apart into exhaustion and a sort of suspicious disillusion. Not even the familiar gilded European opulence of the hotel, echoing the Duke of Olympia’s mansion in Belgrave Square, revived my spirits.
    The chamber had its own private bathroom en suite, and when I found the courage to raise my eyes and inspect my reflection in the mirror, I saw that the mark was not so bad as I had feared. There was a red patch atop my left cheekbone, more abrasion than bruise, and the skin had swelled lightly beneath it. I worked my jaw in circles, opening and closing my mouth, and every part seemed to move in order, though perhaps more stiffly than before.
    But as I stepped back and viewed the whole of my face, the mark inevitably drew my gaze, as it must draw the gaze of anyonlooker. That is human nature, I suppose; we notice the fault first of all. It is the imperfection that fascinates us. Until the mark faded, everyone I met would struggle to look politely away, wondering how a respectable woman came by such an injury.
    â€œHow unseemly,” said a voice behind me.
    I closed my eyes, but when I opened them again, she was still there, peering round-faced over my shoulder into the mirror, wearing the same old-fashioned blue dress as before. A matching blue silk ribbon now adorned her hair, stretching over the top from ear to ear. The effect was almost girlish. I thought,
Well, at least she isn’t occupying the bathtub. Or, worse yet, the commode.
    â€œIt was not my fault,” I said. “At least, not entirely. He had no right to hit me.”
    â€œBut you were outside of the automobile, shooing away the poor fellow’s goats. His
livelihood
, Miss Truelove. Of all the silly things to do.”
    â€œSomeone had to move them. They were blocking the road.”
    The little head sighed. “Dear girl, there are certain public maneuvers best left to the gentlemen in one’s party. I cannot understand why you must always jump out in front and prove your competence.”
    I braced my hands on the edge of the sink. “I wish you would go away, Your Majesty.”
    â€œHmph. What an ill-mannered, ungrateful girl you are.”
    â€œFor what, exactly, should I be grateful? That you see fit to invade my privacy at all hours, for no particular reason? That there seem to be no possible means of ridding myself of your illusion?”
    â€œYou are quite wrong. I have excellent reason to visit you, and you would do well, Miss Truelove, to regard these audiences withthe proper spirit of humility, although I must presume humility is not in your blood.” A royal sniff.
    â€œAre you insulting my father?”
    â€œOf course not. It’s your mother’s influence I deplore.”
    I turned from the mirror and swept past her to the door. “I will not listen to this.”
    She reached out to stop me, and to my relief I did not feel the touch of her hand as it found my arm. “Never mind your silly mother. It’s about Silverton.”
    I went on through the door and into the bedroom.
    â€œHe is an unsuitable companion!”
    â€œThat is no concern of yours.”
    â€œHe will ruin you.”
    I went to my small trunk, which lay open on the floor before the bed, and began to unpack my few belongings into the wardrobe. “He will not ruin me. I have no interest of any kind in his lordship, nor he in me.”
    â€œHe’s much cleverer than you think, and his reputation for licentiousness, even among my son’s immoral companions, is legendary.”
    â€œAll the more reason not to fear for me. I scorn the practice of wanton love.”
    â€œMost women find him irresistible.”
    â€œI have little in common with most women.”
    In the corner of my vision—for I would not look at her directly—Her Majesty descended onto the velvet slipper chair