Thank you so much for the reviews! Since there seems to be some interest, here's chapter two. Oh, one more thing: it has been pointed out to me that Havelock's parents died when he was young and he was left with a solitary aunt. As far as I know, this is true. I, however, seem to have slipped into an odd little pocket of the Trousers of Time, so please bear with me, and watch out for lint.
~
Lady Vetinari watched the two leave, whispering in each other's ears, and sighed happily. Lady Tineshan seemed like such a nice girl. And good breeding, too, even if it did have several hundred years worth of common blood mixed in with it. In a way, that made it all the more romantic.
A great family, one of the most highly esteemed on the Disc, fallen into ruin through a noble misunderstanding. Forced to live in the shadows and work their lives away for generations. And then one day, against all odds, a member of a notable family happens to trip…or perhaps stumble – yes that sounded much better…happens to stumble over the last of their line on a busy city street. He helps her up, their eyes meet…Yes, that was the way it was supposed to work.
"Your ladyship?"
"Yes, Witrow?" she asked dreamily, still imagining Vetinari gallantly raising poor Ienska up out of the street's dust.
"Will the ceremony be soon, your ladyship?"
"I imagine so, Witrow," she said. "You know Havelock. If we put it off too long, he will probably start thinking too hard. It's a dangerous thing for a young man to think too hard."
"Yes, your ladyship. Would you like me to begin arrangements for the ceremony?"
"That would be best, I think. We can hold the ceremony on the turnwise lawn at sunrise…yes, that's a pretty picture. And Cook had best start deciding what he will feed the guests. Oh, and we'll need a guest list! See to it, won't you, Witrow, and bring it to me to review once you have finished."
"Of course, your ladyship."
"And try to keep Havelock out of it, if you can. He seems a little more excitable than I remember."
"Yes, your ladyship."
"And see if Rose can't come over later today to help with the preparations and arrangements."
"I'm sure the Lady Richens will be delighted, your ladyship."
"Have I forgotten anything, Witrow?" asked Lady Vetinari, brow furrowing.
"What of the young lady, your ladyship?"
"Oh, yes." Lady Vetinari thought for a moment. "To begin with, we must get her out of those horrid street clothes. And see that a bath is drawn for her when she awakes from her rest. Have Rachel go through some of my old girlhood dresses and see if some can't be hemmed to fit Lady Tineshan for a few days. And send for the dressmaker, the young lady will need some clothes for daily wear as well as a wedding gown."
"I will see to it, your ladyship. Will that be all?"
"Yes, Witrow, thank you." The butler disappeared.
Lady Vetinari reclined gracefully on her couch. It would be a beautiful wedding. She could almost see it now. The ceremony under the rosy, pre-dawn sky; the sun peeking above the walls just as the final vows were sworn; and, if she timed it right, the golden light of dawn bursting full down upon the joyous scene as the music swelled.
The lady smiled. She had waited a very long time for this.
***
Vetinari firmly closed the door to the turnwise bedroom on the third floor. It was just possible that Ienska would remain behind it. The Lady Vetinari had certainly managed to upset her.
It might have been in better judgement to warn the girl of his mother's more impulsive tendencies.
When he reentered the large parlor, it was to find his mother still sitting on her couch, staring dreamily out the window.
He cleared his throat. "Mother, we need to talk."
She turned to face him, warm smile in place. "Of course dear. You must be very fond of young Lady Tineshan, I must say. I don't believe you ever so much as mentioned a young lady in your letters home," she said pointedly.
"There is a reason for that, Mother."
"Oh, I know. When you're young and in love every day seems like a wonderful surprise and you want to spread the joy around. But really, I wish you had mentioned this a little earlier. No matter, everything will be wonderful, just wait."
"Yes, Mother," he said. "I think I shall be waiting rather longer than you seem to believe."
The Lady Vetinari looked heavenward. "I suppose it was only a matter of time. Every young man is nervous before his wedding, and I don't know why you should be any different."
"I don't imagine I shall be, Mother. When the time comes." Vetinari sat down across from her.
"Surely you two don't plan to wait?" said Lady Vetinari with a frown. "After all, you're seventeen! By the time we were your age, your father and I…"
"I am aware of that, Mother," he said. "However, the situation differs."
"Oh?"
"Ienska and I are not engaged, Mother," said Vetinari, voice soft.
She blinked at him. Then, slowly, her eyes began to grow wider and wider. "Oh! I'm so sorry!," she gasped. "I ruined the surprise, didn't I?"
"Excuse me?"
"You didn't bring her here to introduce as your fiancée, you brought her here to propose! Oh, Havelock, you must believe that the thought didn't even occur to me!"
"Nor to I, Mother," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose once more in frustration.
"You always had a…different sense of humor, dear," she said suddenly, eyes lighting once more. "But you can't fool me. I know you better than that. You wouldn't journey here, unchaperoned with a girl you weren't planning on marrying."
"Mother, please try to listen," Vetinari said patiently. "I am in no way involved with Ienska Tineshan. There is nothing between us." He considered this. "Except, perhaps, a good deal of resentment. I certainly have no intention of marrying her."
Lady Vetinari patted his knee. "You never did know quite when to give up on a joke, Havelock, dear. I do hope Lady Tineshan appreciates your unique brand of humor. Now," she stood, skirts rustling crisply. "I have a great many things to attend to. Why don't you take a short rest? And, perhaps, once the dressmakers have finished with Lady Tineshan, you may take her on a stroll through the gardens."
And she was gone.
Vetinari leaned back on the couch. His mother had always been a particularly difficult person to explain things to. He closed his eyes. However, he had the feeling that he would remember their recent conversation quite fondly as he tried to explain to Ienska that he had not managed to sort things out and that, apparently, there was going to be a wedding in the next couple of days.
***
Ienska prowled around the chamber. It was a large room, well appointed and more richly furnished than any other she had been in so far. The drapes on the bed appeared to be hanging velvet and the sheets looked very much like silk. All of the various selections of wood furnishings tastefully scattered around the space shone in the afternoon light. And therein lay the problem.
The light filtered in through a series of windows lining the hubward and turnwise walls. With the strange instincts of someone who had survived in Ankh-Morpork for more than a week, they had been the first things to undergo her scrutiny. What she had found had not been to her liking. While the glazed glass appeared friendly and gave the room an open feeling, the iron cross work that ran through them was solid as stone. And they didn't open, not even the tiniest crack. For the second time that day, Ienska felt as if she were a prisoner. It didn't take dark and chains to make a prison. Oh no, the more elegant dungeons had gilt work and gold leafing.
She ran a hand along one of the windows again.
***
The entryway appeared deserted but, just to be safe, Vetinari checked again. The vaulted roof cast long shadows and the distant sound of trees in the garden could be heard. But no one seemed to be there.
He stalked across the room and up the stairs.
Stalking was not, he felt, a dignified mode of movement, but sometimes it must be done. His mother was even more difficult than he had remembered. The comments about an unchaperoned journey had been her way of warning him that she wasn't a complete fool. And, perhaps, under normal circumstances, she may have been correct. Ienska, however, was far from normal circumstances.
He reached the top of the stairs and paused, torn between going to explain to Ienska that the situation was not yet resolved and a fondness for his eardrums. Well, that wasn't strictly fair. The girl rarely screamed. She could kill with sarcasm, though.
He almost turned down the western hall, toward his own room. No need to face that without a moment's rest first. And yet, he would still have to face it. He sighed and turned back down the hall toward the room Ienska had been given.
If she was still there.