I've published the book! Arthur's Witch: The Priestess is now available on Kindle and Smashwords, and you can download the sample for free, so it's gotta be worth a look! The blurb is below.
Morgan le Fay is a woman shrouded in infamy. The original wicked witch, she is responsible for bringing the golden age of Arthur to a catastrophic end. Though evil guile, ruthless ambition and petty jealousy, she stood against the light of Britain's first Christian King, her own brother. She watched an entire kingdom burn. A subhuman monster who consorted with demons and became the Devil's mistress.
Or a woman shrouded in mystery. The original fairy godmother, she is responsible for creating the golden age of Arthur from the ground to the ramparts of Camelot. Though passion, purity of spirit and selflessness, she stood against the religious perversion which invaded her homeland and corrupted her King, her own brother. She protected an entire kingdom as a mother would a child. A High Priestess whose name and legend have been besmirched and besmeared by lesser men.
Her own story. Now told.
A/N: Don't ask me how I'm doing this, some strange spirit has possessed my fingers. Just enjoy it while it lasts, I know I am!
Chapter Nine - Advertisement
He had trained him well… He had trained him too well. But to do what, Diana wondered? To evade the authorities, keep up a false persona? Why would any honest person do such a thing? Diana was utterly bewildered—it was a puzzle of Bruce Wayne, perhaps, but one she had no idea where to fit.
She had been pretending to be asleep for about the last hour, not wishing to see anymore of the heavy sympathy from Mr and Mrs Kent. They were all heading to the house the Kents kept in Bloomsbury, having left Queen Park early the day before. At the moment Diana was in a borrowed dress, which was ill-fitting, since she was a good deal taller than either of the other two women whose clothes had been available. Instructions had been sent home to Etta in Gloucestershire, for the majority of her clothes to be packed and transported to town, and for a few of her personal items too. She had no idea how long it might take to find Donna, if they even would. There were so many thousands of people thronging London's streets that the task seemed impossible even before it was begun.
"Diana, we're here," Lois said, touching her elbrow.
She opened her eyes, with a genuine yawn, having hardly slept either of the two nights before. The carriage pulled to a stop outside a handsome, three-story townhouse. It reminded Diana of one her parents had owned before everything had been shattered. She had not been privy to the exact amount of money it cost, but she knew it to be substantial. She glanced at Clark. A journalist had afforded this? The owner of a broadsheet, perhaps, but she found it difficult to believe an employee had such resources. General Lane must have been very generous with Lois' dowry.
Diana was shown to her room with every possible courtesy extended to her on the part of Mrs Kent. Her servants were at Diana's disposal, and anything she needed, no matter how small or large, would be provided, she had the full run of the house, any money she might need, et cetera, et cetera. Diana rinsed her face and hands and unpacked the few possessions she had brought with her, then made her way to the parlour. Having been served tea and made the usual compliments to the house, its rooms, proportions and furnishings, and then endured a horrible silence where no one knew what to say, Diana gave a huge sigh.
"I cannot apologise enough, to you both. This is a terrible imposition and you are both being so gracious. It is more than I deserve."
"Not at all. You and Donna and Cassie are practically family."
"I do not think you wish to be Donna's family. You have seen how little she thinks of us. Certainly she did not trust me enough to share her in confidence."
"Do not be too hard on her, Miss Prince," Clark said softly. "Love, especially when young, is a very potent force." He paused to take his wife's hand. "Lois and I almost eloped—we were engaged for so long only because her family was unsatisfied with my lack of fortune."
"But you did not elope, Mr Kent," Diana countered. "And as a result, you are both welcome in the home of each others' family. No scandal dogs you. Society does not shun you. You still married for love and yet caution played its natural part. It is possible that a little patience, some openness and sincerity to myself and Mr Wayne may have produced a similar outcome for Donna and Mr Greyson. If their attachment is so strong then what fear did they have of waiting for a time?"
"So you will not forgive her?" Lois asked.
Diana stood and paced over to the window. "I could more easily forgive her if I could forgive myself. I allowed this to happen, and I must come to terms with that. It was the wrong thing to do—and Donna should not have been ignorant of it. If she was, then the fault is mine. I did not teach her differently."
"Diana, your father died less than a year ago. Donna is nineteen years old; she knew perfectly well what she was doing. Forgive her, by all means, because you can hold no sin against yourself."
"I just wish I could speak to her, so she could tell me herself why she has done this. A letter, however heartfelt, is small consolation when compared to having my living, breathing sister with me."
Clark walked over to her, handing her a cup of tea. "Do not fear too much, Miss Prince. Bruce will find her."
"How?" Diana asked. "He is as wealthy as can be, yes, but what does any businessman know of detection?"
"Well, he is more than a mere businessman."
She frowned. "What more can he be?"
But Clark was frowning regretfully, and turning away. "I cannot say, Miss Prince. It is not mine to tell."
Perplexed, Diana looked out of the window again. "It does not matter," she murmured. "So long as he finds my sister I hardly care."
It was a lie though—she did care, a little at least. Mystery demanded truth to answer it. And truth was what Diana had always sought. Despite herself, despite the gravity of the situation, her curiosity was piqued, and her imagination tickled. If Bruce Wayne was not a businessman, then what was he?
Bruce Wayne did not come that day to Bloomsbury, though Diana started at every noise, every knock she fancied she heard at the door. She had spent the entire afternoon and evening sat in the window seat, searching the faces of everyone who passed by in the street below. She had no appetite, but took a little supper only to prevent Lois' good-hearted admonition. She definitely and firmly declined the offer of wine with dinner, and then brandy afterwards. Her nerves needed no alcohol to calm them.
The next day dawned very late for Diana—she had been awake long enough to see it encroach over the sky slowly. She had been writing notes to almost everyone of her previous acquaintance in London, people who probably would have slammed the door in her face had she gone to them in person. But she had no choice: she would do anything to find Donna. And it was better than weeping into her bedding every night in despair.
When the noises of the servants moving around filtered through the walls, she rose properly, getting dressed and going downstairs, pulled on her coat and bonnet. One of the maids opened the door for her, and she smiled in thanks.
"Please tell Mr and Mrs Kent I have gone for a walk, and will be back soon."
The main dipped a little curtsey to her. "Yes, ma'am."
It was by no means her first time in London, having come here many seasons with her mother and father since the age of sixteen, but the city no longer felt as welcoming and warm as it once had. It was dull, grey, full of angry and sneering people. Passers-by stared at her as she walked—whether because of who she was, because of her beauty and perhaps because it was so strange to see a young woman walking alone this early in the morning. She had no idea why she was even walking like this—it was unlikely she was going to find Donna wandering around London as she was doing. At the entrance to a park, she stopped, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to think logically.
London was a vast city, but from what Clark had said, Bruce Wayne would eventually find her, and she thought he had property here, or very near. So would they really stay in London, in the long-term? It could be that they would stay in the capital only for as long as it took to marry. Diana prayed they could find only sensible, reserved ministers who looked at the pair of them with their too-young, eager faces, and declined to marry them. It was not that Diana wanted her sister to be unhappy—just that she needed to be warned of every possible consequence before a marriage could take place. When, as he inevitably would, Mr Wayne dramatically reduced Dick's income, or removed it entirely, or disinherited him, did they have a plan? Or even an income? Did Dick have a profession? Diana doubted it—it was true she had no idea of his circumstances before his adoption by Mr Wayne, but he was a gentleman, and on the whole gentlemen did not have professions. Mr Kent was a rare example. So, when they were married and needed to find an income, where would they go? A lone American in London would be treated with disdain at best, and suspicion otherwise.
She stopped cold. "But an American in America? Great Hera," she whispered.
She hurried back to the house, finding Lois and Clark at breakfast. Clark had a newspaper open, while Lois seemed lost in thought. When Diana entered, they both looked relieved, though neither expressed it. Apparently they were worried she wouldn't come back.
"Diana, would you like some breakfast?"
"No, thank you. Mr Kent, I wonder if you might find something out for me."
He folded away his newspaper. "Anything."
"Could you find out when the next passenger ships sailing to the United Sates of America are, from any port: Southampton, Portsmouth, Plymouth, anywhere, all of them."
He caught on quickly, and turned slightly pale. "Do you think-?"
"That is my fear," she nodded.
He stood, kissed his wife and left the room directly. Diana sank into a seat. "I only pray I'm wrong. It will be hard enough to find her in London, let alone in another country…" Suddenly she slammed her fist down on the table, with a strangled sound of frustration, then immediately apologised to a startled Lois. "I am sorry. It's just I feel so helpless! At least at home there would be chores to do, things to keep my mind occupied—this is absurd! I am in London, Donna is in London and I can do nothing!"
"Sit down, Diana," Lois said crisply.
Diana blinked, unaware that she had stood at all. She obeyed her friend.
"Now, I insist you eat something, and while you eat, we shall be silent and you will think of something we can do. Neither you nor I have ever settled for what polite society has told us we must, Diana, and we are not going to start now. Am I right?"
Diana nodded. "You're right."
Lois nodded and pushed some warm bread towards Diana. She ate as directed and let her mind run free. In the country, she could give Donna's scent to some hounds and let them literally hunt for her. In the city it was impossible. She could contact the police; but Donna had not been kidnapped, and nor was she a thief. However, something that was possible…
"We could take out an advertisement in the evening newspapers," she said. "With Donna's description and saying how worried her family are—appeal for any information on her whereabouts."
Lois nodded. "Capital idea. Clark can put it in the Daily Planet, and we'll send it to the Times and the Gazette as well ourselves."
They spent the next hour carefully drafting and redrafting the piece they were to put in the newspapers. It would have to be small in every paper except the Daily Planet—Diana could afford nothing larger. Lois offered some of her own money, of course, but she was already far too deeply in debt to the Kents.
Again feeling the need to go outside, Diana offered to walk the advertisement to the offices of the newspapers. Halfway down the road, she met Bruce Wayne. He bowed and she curtsied. He looked very harried, Diana noticed, whereas before she had only seen a smooth, polished exterior of a man who was unsettled by nothing. Diana knew he had not been successful before he said anything.
"You've not found them," she said.
He shook his head. "Where are you going, Miss Prince?"
"To deliver some notes, and to place an advertisement in some newspapers."
"Notes to whom, if I may ask?"
Diana sighed. "Anyone I could think of. They'll likely turn me away without condescending to speak to me, yet I feel anything must be worth an attempt."
He nodded. "I am impressed how well you are tackling this, Miss Prince."
"There is little point in panicking, Mr Wayne," she said coldly.
"I meant no offence, and certainly no surprise at your calm and resolve. But it is not what I would expect from most men, let alone women."
Diana only just avoided a snort. "If I were a man, I would be much more able to do something productive. As it is, words are the only power I have to wield in the search for my sister."
Their conversation was interrupted by two young women sweeping past them, one of whom bumped into Diana. She turned and apologised immediately, but they both heard her companion say clearly, "Why are you apologising, my dear? Don't you know who that woman is?"
Diana did not even really notice; she was used to barbs and gossip. She was the daughter of a traitor, the sister of a scandal, and if they did not know that yet then they all soon would. There was possibly something in her face, though, since Bruce spoke again, in a softer tone than before. "Miss Prince, I know this is not ideal, but you may at least know that Dick is not a capricious man; far less so than myself, in fact. They were writing to one another almost every day, and wherever they are…they intend to marry, and to not leave each other."
Diana nodded. "Could they have gone to America?" she asked, remembering her thought earlier in the day.
"It's possible. I've sent agents out there to look for them-"
"Agents?" Diana repeated sharply.
Bruce winced at the volume of her voice, and then glanced around them. "Not here."
A/N: Review please!