The sound of rainy gusts hitting the little windows of her cottage roused Juniper from the deep wash basin in which she had drifted to sleep. She adjusted herself in the tub. The water was still warm, but alas, her muscles were still rather sore. Still, after a critical look at her pruny fingertips, Juniper raised herself out of the comfort of the bath and prepared to ready herself for another long night.
After drying, powdering and staring at herself admiringly in the mirror for a few minutes, Juniper slipped into the peacock blue gown that had been delivered to her that afternoon along with the steaming hot tub, a gift, read the card, from her gracious patron. She had rolled her eyes at that, but couldn’t help admiring the effort of such a trifle; it had taken four servants to deliver it up the hill to her cottage. She adjusted the bodice lower now, and turned quickly to the mirror to catch her own eye, feigning delighted surprise with a little innocent laugh. Practice makes perfect, she thought.
A resounding knock shook the door of the cottage. Who could it be, thought Juniper. She wasn’t expected at the castle for at least another hour. Juniper fastened her hair up hastily and hurried to the door. A little whimper sounded on the other side. Without hesitation, Juniper flung open the door.
Emerald sat at the foot of the door in a slump, drenched with rain, her eyes red from crying. With only a moment’s thought to her own gown, Juniper gathered her friend up and drew her into the cottage.
“Shhhh, shhhh,” she whispered, petting Emerald’s hair away from her sodden face. “What has happened to you, dear friend? Come and sit by the fireside and tell me all about it. I’ll find you some dry clothes to change into, and some warm wine to calm you.”
Emerald’s sobs did not subside until she was quite dry, her muscles loosened by the wine that Juniper poured. Juniper sat patiently, ready to listen. Whatever could the matter be?
At last, Emerald sighed deeply and turned from the fireside to tell Juniper what had befallen her at the home of Sir Peter Prique. As she spoke, Juniper stood up and began to pace. She felt her hands clenching and her face and decollete flushing with hot anger.
“But why did you not come and find me immediately?” she cried, when Emerald’s story had been told. “I would have stood by you, gone to his home with you. He would not have dared face both of us in such a fashion!”
Emerald sighed raggedly. “I tried to find you, Juniper,” she said. “You’ve hardly been home at all these past two weeks. I was quite concerned, actually.”
Juniper felt a sharp pang of guilt combined with a too-tight corset. She had been a distant friend indeed these past few weeks. It was time to fill Emerald in. She sat beside her on the little duvet.
“Do you remember the ball a few months ago at the home of Mme. La Monteuse? In which we met again with…”
“With the Duke de Cordon Bleu,” Emerald said. “Of course, how could I forget? But what has this to do with -”
“Do you remember,” continued Juniper. “How he offered, quite grandly, to be my artistic patron after I spoke of wishing to compose operas? Well, since then…oh, how do I put this delicately?”
Emerald snorted. “You? Delicately?”
“You’re right!” laughed Juniper. “Well, here it is. I dined with him at the castle, it became quite clear that I was only blustering when I spoke of wishing to be a lady composer, and well, things progressed.” She laughed delightedly. “I’m quite a kept woman lately!”
Emerald leaned in, shocked.
“You? And the DUKE?!?!”
“Yes!” cried Juniper. “Isn’t it marvelous?”
“But Juniper!” Emerald lowered her voice politely. “How will this affect your prospects for marriage?”
“You know that I shall never marry, my dear friend. How can I settle down with anyone when the high seas call me so….”
“Ah yes,” remembered Emerald. “The high seas indeed. But what about his little…eccentricities?”
“Oh that, well, yes, it is rather perturbing,” admitted Juniper. “But I’ve found it only rears its pretty head every month or so, and I assure you, it in no way changes what happens between us in his chambers. I am enjoying myself immensely! In fact, I even have a sort of influence over policy lately…” Juniper’s voice trailed off, as an idea began to form in her mind.
“Emerald,” she said firmly. “No man will treat you with such a lack of respect without feeling deeply the consequences of his barbarity.”
“But Juniper! Tell me you won’t return to dueling!”
“No, no, I have a much more savvy plan in mind this time, m’dear. Though I do miss dueling. No, fear not. You shall have your revenge.”
Much later that evening, Juniper found herself in the bed of the Duke. After having sated his appetites for the night, her body was quite lax, but her eyes and mind still sharp. She knew she only had a moment’s window before he would drift off to sleep.
“Henri…” she cooed, twirling locks of his jet black hair around her finger. “The most dreadful thing befell my friend Emerald yesterday. I’m quite broken up about it.”
“What is it?” he half snored.
“This really dreadful man, hardly gentry at all, publicly humiliated her after she had the temerity to ask for her window to be repaired. He left her, a lady once of the queen’s court in the street like less than a common whore! It is the greatest injustice and I only wish that it could be remanded!”
The Duke sat up a bit and smiled at Juniper warily.
“Does this mean that you’re going to return to dueling?”
“No.” Juniper sighed sharply, then kissed him full on the mouth. “I was rather hoping that you, as the greatest leader in the land, might put this Peter Prique in his place, or rather, take his place away from him.”
“Emmmm…” The Duke reclined again and shut his eyes. “I’ve got the hunt for the next few weeks. Emerald LaVerte’s aristocratic pride shall have to be restored in your own domain. Perhaps she could be placed beside us as we ride out tomorrow. She can have that nice chestnut you’ve always admired. How about that?”
Juniper quickly stifled her instinct to yell and throw. She drew a deep breath and thought hard. She smiled wickedly and turned back to her companion.
“But my darling,” she whispered. “You did not allow me to finish my account.”
He groaned softly.
“What he said to Emerald as he threw her into the street was that he would not aid or help any friend of the Duke de Cordon Bleu, that you were a despot and a parvenu to boot. And then…he mentioned…your little hobby.”
Within a fraction of a second, the Duke was out of bed, his fine figure outlined by the moonlight, throwing his vestments on, grabbing for weapons, and shouting for his guards. He exited the chamber in a whirl, the door slamming behind him. Juniper, happily forgotten, adjusted her hair, and slipped out of bed and into her deep blue gown. She hoped it would be blue enough to disguise her in the moonlight.
She crept stealthily up to the manor of Sir Peter Prique, where the Duke and his men had ridden full speed a moment before. She hid among the rushes and watched, gratified, as the wicked knight was dragged from his home and thrown down the stairs, much the way Juniper imagined Emerald to have been tossed aside. As she gathered up her skirts, preparing to make her way silently to Emerald’s cottage, a loud snap sounded from behind her. She whirled about, her hand ready to grab the dagger under her skirt.
A young man in peasant’s garb stood with his hands on the dagger at his belt. He stared at her stunned, then smiled and bowed deeply. He wore the crest of the Duke’s horsemen on his chest. Still bowing, he peered up at her with sharp dark eyes.
“M’lady.”
Juniper’s breath caught in her throat. Recovering herself, she turned away, then tossed a sharp look over her shoulder.
“You will tell no one.”
He smirked – smirked at her! – then walked confidently back to the group gathered outside Sir Prique’s home. Juniper huffed, then ran as quietly as she could back to Emerald, to tell her what had passed that night.
The next day, the story was on everyone’s lips all over the village. How the dastardly Peter Prique had finally been caught slandering the Duke, how they had raided his home and found plans and outlines for a treasonous alliance with a neighboring warlord, how he had been stripped of his title and his manor, and shipped to a work camp in the Americas. Emerald’s little cottage was granted to her by the Duke. Emerald thought this a very kind gesture, but Juniper knew it to be a bribe. After all, only they two knew the truth about the Duke’s proclivities.
Juniper felt very glad about the part she had to play, except for a faint dissatisfaction from the lack of actual physical combat. Next time, she thought, with a smile.
