Whispers behind velvet curtains

The drawing room of Windsor Manor was aglow with the warm light of an early afternoon sun filtering through lace-draped windows. Ornate golden frames housed oil paintings of stern-faced ancestors who seemed to disapprove of every hushed conversation and sidelong glance exchanged in the grand house. A clock ticked methodically from the marble mantelpiece, filling the room with its faint, incessant rhythm. 

Lady Victoria Windsor, Duchess of Sussex, sat poised on a velvet settee, her emerald silk day dress flowing elegantly around her. In one hand, she held a porcelain teacup, though the tea had long gone cold. Across from her, Lady Catherine Markham reclined casually, her sapphire dress a perfect contrast to the gilded upholstery. 

"So," Catherine said, setting down her own cup with a faint clink. "Are we going to address the rather intriguing figure of James Parker*loitering in shadowed corners, or are we going to pretend your little midnight rendezvous on the balcony never happened?" 

Victoria arched a perfectly sculpted brow. "You should write novels, Catherine. Your imagination would keep London's publishing houses in business for decades." 

Catherine smirked. "I'd have to change the names, of course. The Duchess and the Servant might cause quite the scandal." 

"Enough," Victoria said sharply, though the corner of her mouth twitched with amusement. 

The door creaked open then, and a tall figure strode in with an air of practiced arrogance. Lord Alexander Windsor entered uninvited, his cravat carelessly loose, his dark riding boots still streaked with mud from the stables. 

"Ladies," he greeted with a roguish smile, bowing dramatically. "I trust I'm not interrupting anything too salacious?" 

Catherine let out an exaggerated sigh. "Must you enter every room as though you're the hero of a tragic romance novel, Alexander?" 

"Why, Lady Catherine, you wound me," Alexander said with mock devastation, clutching his chest. His piercing blue eyes flickered to Victoria, and the humor in his expression faded ever so slightly. "Sister-in-law, you look particularly lovely today." 

"Thank you, Alexander," Victoria replied coolly. "To what do we owe this unexpected visit?" 

He strolled to the sideboard, pouring himself a glass of brandy in broad daylight without shame. "Thomas summoned me for some urgent political discussion, though I suspect it's merely another lecture on my reckless habits*and irresponsible expenditures." 

"Your reputation precedes you," Catherine said dryly. 

Alexander smirked, leaning against the fireplace mantel, his glass cradled in one hand. "You wound me as well, Lady Catherine. Is there no softness left in this house?" 

Victoria sighed, setting her teacup down with an audible clink. "If you're going to disrupt my afternoon, Alexander, at least do it with purpose." 

He raised his glass in mock salute. "Very well. Tell me, Victoria-how is Thomas these days? I hear he's spending more and more time at Parliament and less time in your bedchamber." 

The silence that followed was sharp, cutting through the perfumed air of the drawing room. Catherine's smile faltered as her eyes darted to Victoria, who sat frozen, her hazel gaze locked onto Alexander. 

"That," Victoria said finally, her voice low and steady, "is none of your concern." 

Alexander's smirk softened, regret flashing briefly across his face before he looked away. "Forgive me. That was... unkind." 

"More than unkind," Victoria said, rising to her feet. "It was disrespectful." 

Before the conversation could continue, a soft knock interrupted them, and James Parker stepped into the room, his presence commanding despite his quiet demeanor. 

"Your Grace," he said, bowing slightly. "His Grace, the Duke, requests your presence in his study." 

Victoria nodded curtly. "Thank you, Mr. Parker. Inform His Grace I'll be along shortly." 

James gave a small bow and turned to leave, but Alexander's voice stopped him. 

"Parker, is it?" Alexander said, tilting his head as if studying a peculiar artifact. "You've been with the Windsor household for... what, two years now?" 

"Yes, my lord," James replied calmly, his gray eyes meeting Alexander's with steady confidence. 

Alexander smirked. "I trust you find your duties... fulfilling?" 

Victoria's sharp intake of breath was nearly imperceptible. 

"I do, my lord," James replied, his voice even. 

"Good man," Alexander said before turning his attention back to his drink. 

With one last glance at Victoria, James exited the room, leaving a faint tension in his wake. 

Catherine rose, brushing invisible wrinkles from her gown. "Well, that was thoroughly awkward. I do believe I'll take my leave before the daggers start flying." 

Victoria turned to her. "You're insufferable." 

"And yet, you love me dearly." Catherine offered a playful curtsey before sweeping from the room, leaving Victoria and Alexander alone. 

Alexander set down his glass and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Victoria, I-" 

"No." Victoria cut him off, her voice firm. "Don't. Not today, Alexander." 

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes-regret, longing, guilt-but he said nothing as she turned and left the room, her emerald skirts trailing behind her. 

---

Victoria knocked lightly before entering Lord Thomas Windsor's study. The room smelled of leather and aged paper, and a heavy mahogany desk sat near the window overlooking the sprawling estate grounds. 

Thomas stood near the window, hands clasped behind his back, his profile sharp against the afternoon light. 

"You wished to see me, my lord?" Victoria said softly. 

He turned to face her, his blue eyes cold but composed. "Victoria, sit." 

She moved to one of the leather armchairs across from his desk, her posture straight and elegant. 

"There are rumors," Thomas said, his voice measured, "circulating among the guests from last night's ball." 

Victoria's pulse quickened, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. "Rumors? About what, my lord?" 

"About you. About whispered conversations on balconies. About lingering glances with certain members of the household staff." 

Her breath caught, but she lifted her chin slightly. "Surely you don't give weight to idle gossip, Thomas." 

His gaze bore into her. "I would hope not, Victoria. For both our sakes." 

The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock. 

"Is that all, my lord?" she asked softly. 

He nodded once, turning back to the window. 

Victoria rose, her hands trembling slightly as she clasped them together. She turned and left the study, her heart hammering against her ribcage. 

Outside, in the dim corridor, she paused to catch her breath. Shadows clung to the corners, and somewh

ere in the distance, faint footsteps echoed down the marble floors. 

The whispers were growing louder.