"I will not be blamed for this," the Bohemian nobleman said, pointing the gun first at Mum and then Mr. Holmes. "I will not risk my country's reputation on the word of an adventuress and her lover!"
Dr. Watson sent a glance to his desk. Perhaps his own service pistol was kept there? "Herr Meyer, you are distressed," Mr. Holmes said calmly. "There is no need for violence."
The man's finger tightened on the trigger. "Enough talk! Have you all gone mad? Can you not see what she plans? She will hold this over the king for the rest of her days, to demand money and power! That is all women like her ever want!"
"Herr Meyer!" the king said in alarm. "What are you doing?"
Immediately, the gun was pointed at him. "And you! You are a worthless king! What have you done for your country save for cause scandal after scandal? You are not worthy of the legacy your father built up!"
Mr. Ware held his hands up. "Sir—" he began to say.
"Do you refuse to see the evidence?" Papa asked, speaking up. "Has Irene not kept her word all these years? Why would she break her promise now?"
But Herr Meyer was beyond reason. "The only certainty must be the death of her and her little bastard. Then, Bohemia will not need to fear her ever again."
In such close quarters, a gunshot could do untold damage. Mr. Holmes and Papa were both tense, ready for action. But any move they might make could end in tragedy for whoever Herr Meyer fires upon.
My hand moved to my forgotten cup of tea. It was a small thing, but perhaps enough to cause a distraction?
"Herr Meyer!" I called out.
His head turned my way, and I flung the now cool liquid in his face. With a gasp, he closed his eyes and staggered back a step. In an instant, Mr. Holmes was at him, wrenching the gun away from him.
Without his weapon, the man seemed to lose all fight. He sank into his seat. "Well done, Miss Aida," Mr. Holmes said.
"Foolish, wonderful girl!" Mum exclaimed, rushing to me.
"Old friend," the king said sadly. "I have done you wrong. I have put too much on your shoulders." He turned to Mr. Holmes. "He shall be dealt with by his people. Let us have no more of this."
"It is not I you should be making promises to," the detective said meaningfully.
Straightening his shoulders, the king faced my mother. "My apologies for having distressed you, Madame. I will do what must be done when I return to Bohemia. You shall no longer be inconvenienced by myself or my countrymen."
"Then, this is goodbye," Mum responded with a nod.
The king made a slight bow which was more shocking than his apology. "If things had been different..."
"But they were not."
"Mr. Ware, bring along Herr Meyer," the king commanded. "We have much to discuss and an appointment to keep with the prime minister."
Mr. Ware obediently pulled poor Herr Meyer up and pushed him out the door. With the departure of the men, the room felt much larger. "Holmes, are you sure?" Dr. Watson asked. "The man tried to commit murder."
"With royalty, such is common," Mr. Holmes said, waving his hand dismissively. "To attempt to extract justice would no doubt displease my brother."
Ah, Mycroft Holmes, who ran the government. What a pity I'd not had the chance to meet him. Did he know of this matter? He must if it would affect Britain's interests in any way.
"We shall be going now," Papa said. He extended his hand to Mr. Holmes. "I thank you for the help you gave my daughter and family, sir."
"Miss Aida had things well in hand." Mr. Holmes shook Papa's hand. "An enterprising young lady like her will go far in this world."
My cheeks heated in embarrassment. From Dr. Watson's stories, I knew it was not often that the detective would praise a female, let alone a girl of my age! Clearing my throat, I turned to bid goodbye to the doctor.
When I turned back, Mr. Holmes had leaned close to Mum. Whatever he said made my mother's face go pale. Papa quickly moved between them. "Come, Aida," he said, holding out his hand to me.
"Thank you for your help, Mr. Holmes," I said, unsure what else I could say. It had been an honor to meet him, but words seemed inadequate. I felt as though saying anything would embarrass us both.
Mr. Holmes gave me a bow, much as he had for Mum. "It was my pleasure, Miss Aida," he said with a slight smile. "I look forward to seeing what you make of your life."
It seemed there was nothing left to do but get my carpet bag and say goodbye to Mrs. Hudson. But as I did so, a question remained at the back of my mind: why did Mr. Holmes continue to call me Miss Aida instead of Miss Norton as he should have?
Once we returned to Briony Lodge, Mum and Papa hurried upstairs to wash away the dirt of their captivity. That left me to my own devices for some time, and I chose to sit at the piano.
As sometimes happened, I lost track of time while playing. It was only when I heard applause did I realize I had an audience. I glanced over to see Mum in the doorway. With a smile, she walked towards me.
"You still refuse to keep time, but that was well done," she said. Her lacy white dressing gown seemed to float around her as she moved. "Maestro Bianchi will not have too many complaints when you return."
"Well, since I have had little time to practice singing, I think he will have many complaints and I will be lucky if he doesn't turn me out as soon as I step foot in his parlor." I gathered up the sheet music. "I'm not sure he will believe me if I were to explain why I went away without warning."
Mum sat on the bench beside me. "He will. For I will tell him it could not be avoided."
But it could have. If I hadn't been kept in the dark, had better choices been made by so many people, none of this would have happened. Before I could open my mouth to ask anything, Mum continued, "I'm sorry, Aida. I should have told you about my past well before this. I'd hoped it would never come up. Foolish of me."
"I will admit I was a bit shocked when I read Dr. Watson's account."
She let out a soft laugh. "A Scandal in Bohemia. Yes, I've seen it. The good doctor has a way with words, doesn't he? Why do you think I've used every excuse possible to keep you from the volume of his stories?"
"How much of the telling was true?"
Humming a note, Mum looked up at the ceiling. "A good portion of it. I did follow Wilhelm to Bohemia after we met. Even though I knew doing so would mean giving up everything I'd worked for in my career. I thought he loved me and he saw me as his equal."
"But he didn't." I could well believe why Mum would have believed that. She came from America, where class ranks were not so strictly adhered to.
"Not enough, and I'd begun to suspect as much. Especially after our marriage." She grimaced as she said the word. "He kept saying the moment wasn't right to tell his family; that I should remain in the country."
Mum heaved a sigh. "And then, when his father died unexpectedly, talk of the prince's marriage to the princess began. I knew then what a fool I had been. I confronted Wilhelm when he came to visit and he had the audacity to say I should be grateful to be his mistress while he secured an ally for Bohemia."
"But he was married to you!"
"So I reminded him. He laughed and asked how else was he to earn my favor if I refused to give it to him. I believed him when he said it had all been a sham. When I ran from Bohemia, I kept the marriage lines as a reminder not to be so foolish again. And as a way to embarrass him if he tried to hurt me. I came to London in an attempt to put it all behind me."
But the king hadn't been willing to let her go. He'd sent goons after her for the photograph and then turned to Mr. Holmes when all other attempts had failed. And fourteen years later, he'd come after her again.
"What did Mr. Holmes say to you?" I asked. "Right before we left? Whatever it was upset you."
Again, she sighed. "Where did you learn to be so observant? Yes, he did tell me something. He advised me that I should at least be honest with you even if I had no wish to be honest with the king."
The familiar pit of dread coiled in my stomach. "Honest about what?" Though I had a guess, I wanted to hear her say it. After all, Mr. Holmes had kept calling me Miss Aida.
"It is...likely that Wilhelm Gottsreich Sigmond Von Orsmcher, King of Bohemia, is your father."
I closed my eyes. She'd just told the king... "I began to suspect when I returned to London," Mum said quickly. She put her hand on mine. "It was just a feeling—a wonderful, terrifying feeling. If it was true, I knew I couldn't let the king ever know."
Her words rang with sincerity, and my heart dropped. Everything I thought I had known was a lie.
"I'd known Godfrey before I went to Bohemia, and when I returned he was the first to seek me out. He wanted to see that I was well." Mum's voice took on a note of fondness. "He admitted to having loved me and I knew he would never betray me as the king had done. So we married as soon as we could."
When I'd first heard the possibility, I'd determined that such a fact would change nothing. Godfrey Norton had raised and loved me. He had been a true father, unlike the man who had sent his men to kidnap me and make sure I did not embarrass him.
Still, my world was shaken. I hadn't truly thought it possible that my parents would lie to me about something so important.
"Can you forgive me?" Mum asked softly. She squeezed my hand, no doubt hoping for me to reciprocate. "Forgive me for not telling you the truth before this and for being such a gullible fool so long ago?"
"Of course," I said, opening my eyes. I wasn't sure I meant it, but what else was I supposed to say? "I just... I don't know what I am supposed to think."
"I hope you know your mother and I love you dearly, Aida-Bug," Papa said from the doorway. He had shaven and washed, looking much more like himself. "You are my daughter and I defy any king to prove otherwise."
Tears welled up in my eyes at the old nickname he had for me. "I love you too, Papa."
He crossed the room to put his arms around Mum and me. "I ought to have taken steps to protect you both," he said, hugging us tightly. "Or found a way to keep us in America. The king would not have followed us there."
"Our lives are here," Mum objected. "Your career. The nobility who know my name to ask me to sing in their homes. We've been over this before. I never would have imagined Wilhelm would think of us again. Why would he?"
That, at least, I had an answer for. "Lady Trestle," I said. "She told Herr Meyer you had a daughter."
Mum scowled. "Gossiping harpy! I should have guessed."
"Are we going home now?"
"First, we must outfit you more appropriately," Mum said, straightening up. "Your...father will undoubtedly have business to attend to. Then, we will go home."
She hugged me, and while I was glad of the comfort, I couldn't deny the feeling of unease that lingered in my heart.
True to her word, Mum set out on a shopping expedition the very next morning. She never needed an excuse for shopping and she was determined to see me clothed well. She also promised to instruct me on the intricacies of using makeup, just in case it was needed in the future.
Never far from my mind was the truth of my parentage. And I couldn't say why. My father was the man who had raised me. Nothing had really changed. Yet, I still felt as though everything had been turned upside down.
Who was I? Were there some traits of King Wilhelm that would surface in me?
Though I didn't say anything, Mum seemed to know my uneasiness. She planned outings every day for us as a family and insisted we spend each evening together. She didn't ask for my confidence, which I was grateful for.
What would I have told her?
The last night we were to be in London, we went to a performance of Tristan and Isolde by Wagner. In our box, away from the rest of the audience, Mum was able to freely criticize the singers on stage.
During the intermission, she and Papa went to speak to friends they had seen. I remained seated in the box. Directly across the theater, I could see the king in what he must have thought was a disguise. He talked and laughed with the men in his box as though he hadn't a care in the world.
Was I like him in any way? Did I resemble his family?
"An admirable performance."
Lowering my opera glasses, I turned to find Mr. Holmes beside me. I hadn't heard him enter. "My mother is not impressed, but she does tend to be critical of other singers," I said honestly. "I have found it very good."
"A woman with her talent is allowed to hold others to a high standard. The stage suffered when she chose to marry."
"There are times I think she regrets having done so." It would have been impossible not to feel a little guilty. After all, if she hadn't wanted to make sure the king did not discover me, she may not have married so quickly. I knew it was illogical because I'd had no say in the matter or the decisions she had made.
"It would be suspicious if a person did not have some regrets about decisions in their past." Mr. Holmes watched the crowd. "Even a king may regret something."
It took all I had to keep from asking if he had any regrets. "Ah, but he merely regretted that Mum was not his equal. I remain unconvinced that he has the intelligence to regret anything he has done."
Mr. Holmes looked directly at me. "You are angry."
"Yes." There was no point in denying it. "And confused. And I know I have no right to feel either."
"On the contrary, you have every right. You grew up believing something that you have now learned was a lie. Any person would be angry in that situation." The detective faced the audience, and I wondered what he was watching for. "Your mother is as fine an actress as she is a singer. The king believed her. You will not be bothered by him again."
"That is not what concerns me." I hesitated before continuing, "Although I have spoken so little to him, I found little I liked about him. How long before some trait I have inherited from him comes through to torment me?"
Instead of dismissing my words, he nodded as though he understood. "From what I have observed, a person's environment dictates much about who they become. The king has brought up to have his every whim fulfilled with no consequences. Your mother had to work for everything she achieved."
"My mother can be a prima donna herself." I couldn't bring myself to say selfish. As kind and loving as my mother was, she could be self centered as well.
"But she has not wreaked havoc on other people's lives, despite what the king may say."
A point I hadn't considered. "Thank you. You have eased my mind." Not completely, but enough to no longer feel the weight of worry over every thought.
He inclined his head. "You leave London soon?"
"Tomorrow." I strove for a light tone as I added, "Poor Constable Higgins. He, no doubt, has enjoyed my being absent from the village for so long. He does not appreciate the observations I make."
"Do you frequently irritate the local constabulary then?"
"Only when I see he has overlooked something."
To my surprise, Mr. Holmes let out a laugh. "I can infer it is frequent." He stepped back so he was more in the shadows. "Good evening, Miss Aida. I wish you safe travels. Enjoy the rest of the program."
"And you as well, Mr. Holmes. Good evening."
As I settled into my seat, I felt more like myself. I still did not like the truth of my real father, but I would not let it control me. I could see a way to live with the knowledge. My life was mine to make of it what I would.