by Darcy Burke
Gideon wouldn’t put it past him to do that. “Even if he does, we’ll be long gone.”
“Precisely.” Her expression was smug.
“Where are you going to get a sleeping agent?” he asked.
“Hopefully from Gwyneth. It seems like something she would know how to do.”
Gideon swept her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “You’re rather brilliant.”
She twined her arms around his neck and smiled. “Thank you for saying so.”
He kissed her again, this time lingering as long as he dared. Reluctantly, he pulled away. “We’ll have to continue that later. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
As he walked across her chamber to go into his room, she said, “At least we won’t have to pretend to behave like a happily married couple for my father.”
Did that mean they were a happily married couple? He wasn’t sure that was true—at least not yet.
Their plan was good, but things could go wrong, and once they returned the treasures, what would happen then? Gideon still had to find a way to dismantle Camelot. They couldn’t be allowed to continue unchecked. People had died.
And though Daphne was angry with her father now, once Gideon destroyed him, he doubted their marriage would be happy at all.
Chapter 15
Larkin, the butler at Ashridge Court, a burly man in his middle forties who always looked as if he should be operating a smithy instead of running a household, greeted Daphne and Gideon when they arrived just before noon. “Good morning, Lady Stratton. Your father will be ecstatic to see you. Welcome again, Lord Stratton.”
“Thank you, Larkin,” Daphne said, wondering if “ecstatic” was truly an accurate way to describe her father’s reaction. They would find out shortly. “Please have our things sent to my room.”
“Of course.” The butler inclined his head.
Daphne moved past him into the entry hall and waited for Gideon to come up beside her before continuing into the great hall. She doubted her father would be present at this time of day, but she braced herself nonetheless. No doubt someone was already delivering the news of her arrival to him.
“Are you all right?” Gideon murmured, placing his hand on her lower back.
His touch was soft and simple, but he might as well have taken her in his arms. Her body responded, swaying toward him. Perhaps it was due to her unsatisfied arousal from that morning. More likely, she would always be drawn to him.
“Yes, just a bit nervous. I expect I will be until we’re in Weston.” She shook her head gently. “In fact, it might be until we’re on Flat Holm and the treasures are safely with Gareth.”
Gideon kissed her forehead, and her father appeared at the top of the stairs. He descended quickly and held his arms out when he reached the bottom.
“Daphne!” he boomed. “I am so glad to see you. Come and hug me so that I know you aren’t angry with me.”
Daphne sent Gideon a look with a very slight shrug, as if to ask why her father would think she was angry, then went to hug her father. “Why would I be angry with you?”
“Because you got married without me.” He sniffed and held her tight. “You were always such an independent princess.”
She smiled in spite of her anxiety. He hadn’t called her that in a very long time. “I’m sorry, Papa. It’s my fault. I wanted to be alone with my husband, and I couldn’t wait to marry him.”
He pulled back and tucked her arm through his. “So you rode out to meet him on his way back from Keynsham and got carried away?”
“I’m afraid so.” She sent Gideon a broad, flirtatious smile. On the ride from Brue Cottage, they’d discussed the need to display excessive affection so as not to arouse her father’s suspicions about what they were doing. Now that she was back home with her father, doubt infiltrated her brain. What if Gideon was wrong about him and his desire to find the treasures? What if Camelot wanted to protect them? What if there was no Camelot?
Daphne turned her head toward her father. “You’re truly not angry?”
He gazed at her with love, and the doubt in her mind grew. “Of course not. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. I’m a bit disappointed, but I’ll get over it. Now, tell me what you’ve been doing the past several days. Let us repair to the library.” He looked over at Gideon in question. “Gideon?”
“Let’s.” Gideon gave him a benign smile. Couldn’t he look a bit more enthusiastic?
She tried to send him a wordless glance that might convey the need to be more animated, but he was already walking through the hall toward the library. Once they arrived, she perched on the settee near her father’s favorite chair by the hearth. He sat down there as she expected he would, and Gideon took the seat beside her. He landed very close to her so that their thighs were almost touching. If she adjusted just a bit to the right, she could ensure that happened.
“You look very happy,” Papa said. “That pleases me. I realize my arrangement of your union was rather unorthodox in modern times, but I could tell you were right for each other.”
Daphne edged closer to Gideon so they were indeed touching. “Yes, Papa, I must ask you why you didn’t introduce us before now. You’ve known Gideon for quite some time.” She affected a pout.
Papa laughed. “Forgive me. I wasn’t quite ready to give you up. Even now, I’m a bit teary over losing you to him.” He looked toward Gideon, and she thought she saw a bead of uncertainty. Did he regret choosing Gideon?
“You will never lose her completely,” Gideon said. “She is still your devoted daughter.”
Oh, that was well played of him. Daphne looked at him in admiration. No, it wasn’t hard to display excessive affection, because she was already in love with him.
“Now tell me where you’ve been.” Papa looked between them, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair.
“We went to see Rhys Bowen,” Gideon said. They’d discussed how to answer this question and decided it was better to tell him they had been looking for the cloak. Gideon wanted him to believe he was dedicated to finding the cloak for Camelot.
Papa’s dark gaze lit with interest. “Did you learn anything?”
Gideon frowned. “I’m afraid not, and we did spend quite a bit of time looking through his library.”
“You’re still quite close to him?” Papa asked. He sounded surprised.
Gideon nodded. “Yes. We’ve known each other for quite some time, and he has a soft spot for me.”
“How fortunate for you,” Papa murmured. He briefly tapped his finger against the arm of his chair before looking back to Gideon. “What about Septon? You should visit him next.” It might have been a suggestion, but there was a weight to it that made Daphne think it was a bit more. She began to sense a tension between them. Was her father regretting his choice for her husband? Or was he simply angry that Gideon hadn’t married her the way he’d wanted him to?
“We could.” Gideon sounded a bit hesitant.
“Won’t he be your stepfather soon?” Papa asked. “Surely he will want to help you in your quest to find the cloak. One would think he’d be driven by guilt.”
“One would think.” Gideon’s voice was tight, and Daphne wasn’t sure if it was irritation with her father or with Septon. She knew he blamed the man for stealing his mother. And why wouldn’t he?
“Well, after you stay here for a few days, I think you should go to Septon House. And send my best, of course.” Papa smiled at Daphne. “I have missed you, my girl, as I always do when you are off gallivanting about. Some would say I’m far too lenient, but as I said, you are an independent princess, and who am I to stand in your way?” He chuckled. “Would you ride with me this afternoon?” He glanced toward Gideon. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a bit of time with my daughter. I know her time here with me is short, and soon I’ll have to visit you at Stratton Hall.”
“I don’t mind,” Gideon said.
Daphne took the opening her father had provided to execute the next step in their
plan. “If you’ll excuse me, I will go upstairs for a brief respite, then. I’ll meet you later, Papa.”
She stood, and both men rose to their feet.
Gideon touched her back and kissed her temple. She turned her head and smiled up at him, and again, it wasn’t an exaggeration of her feelings. Then she turned to go, but her father stepped forward and bussed her cheek. Speaking of guilt, she felt a pang of the emotion when she considered what they were plotting to do. Right now, she would go up to her father’s office while Gideon kept him occupied. It was necessary, but it also felt a bit wrong.
She believed Gideon was telling her the truth—or at least the truth as he believed it. But it was still so difficult for her to accept. Until she remembered that her father had lied to her about being a descendant. Yes, if she could focus on that, it wouldn’t be hard to maintain her resolve to accomplish what she and Gideon had planned.
After leaving the library, she went upstairs and made sure no one was about before going into her father’s study in his private apartments. She might not have much time, so she went straight to his desk and the secret drawer she’d found so many years ago.
She’d remembered the drawer as they’d ridden from Brue Cottage. Gideon had wondered if her father possessed a second set of keys to the vault. That had triggered Daphne’s memory of a long-ago day when she’d been hiding beneath her father’s desk. She’d found a secret drawer, and inside were a set of keys. She was confident they were to the vault. Obtaining them would be easier than trying to steal the ones her father kept with him at all times.
Pushing the chair back, she knelt down next to the desk and stuck her head in the cutout where one’s legs would go. She felt along the right side for the button that would release the drawer. It was flush with the rest of the wood and easy to miss… Her fingers grazed the slight edge, and she pressed.
A spring sounded, and the drawer popped out. She found the keys and immediately tucked them in the pocket of her riding skirt. Her fingers had grazed something else in the drawer. Curious, she felt inside, and her hand closed around the edge of a slender book.
She withdrew the ledger—for that was what it looked like—and brought it out from under the desk so she could see it properly. Opening the cover, she sucked in a breath as her heart began to pound.
Written in bold lettering across the top of the first page was the word CAMELOT. In her father’s hand. Beneath it was a list of names, but his was not among them. One name, however, stood out immediately: Gideon, Viscount Kersey.
Dread mingled with shock to ice her spine.
Why was his name there? She turned the page, but it was blank. Then she heard a noise outside the study, and panic overtook all else. She slid the book back where she’d found it, because she didn’t think she could hide it if someone was indeed coming inside, and snapped the drawer closed.
Standing quickly, she grazed her head on the edge of the desk. She swallowed an oath and walked quietly toward the door, listening intently for someone outside the room. Hearing nothing, she eased the door open and made a hasty departure.
She went directly to her chamber, which wasn’t far, and finally let out a full exhalation when she was safely inside. But she didn’t feel relieved. She was perplexed and apprehensive.
Why had Gideon’s name been on a list of Camelot? She wanted to ask him, but he wasn’t here. Their bags had been delivered and their clothing unpacked. As discussed with Gideon, she put the keys into his bag for him to find later.
Though she was agitated, she still had more to do. She went to her bag and found the bottle of tonic Gwyneth had gleefully given her before they’d left that morning. Daphne would add it to the ale supply, and everyone who drank ale with dinner—which would be everyone save her and Gideon, who would only pretend to drink it—would be fast asleep within an hour or two.
With everyone unconscious, Gideon would sneak into the vault, steal the treasures, and they would be on their way to a pair of horses Gwyneth would have staged about a mile from the house. They’d plotted that part with Gwyneth before leaving Brue Cottage too.
It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but they’d considered many angles and felt this was as close as they could get. What she hadn’t considered was finding Gideon’s name on a list entitled Camelot. He’d said it was a rogue faction intent on hoarding the treasures. But surely he wouldn’t be a part of such a group. Or had he lied? Or had he lied about what Camelot really was?
Her head suddenly hurt. Maybe she should take some of this tonic so she could stop thinking about this for a while. But no, she had to get the liquid into tonight’s keg and then ready herself to go riding with her father.
In the meantime, she’d try to think about what to say to Gideon. She had to ask him about the list. If they had any hope for a future, and she really wasn’t sure they did, it couldn’t be based on lies.
The air between Gideon and Foliot had seemed rather thick since the moment the man had come into the hall, but as soon as Daphne departed the library, it had become practically solid with tension. Oh, Foliot was putting on a good show for Daphne, but Gideon knew what the man was capable of and recognized the flashes of distrust in his gaze.
What Gideon didn’t know was if it was simply due to being left out of their wedding or if he was suspicious of Gideon. If it was the latter, their entire plan could be in jeopardy.
“I am deeply sorry we didn’t attend the jousting tournament and get married here,” Gideon said. “I’m afraid the heart worked a little too well, and Daphne was most insistent.”
“So I gather.” Foliot sat back down in his chair, and Gideon dropped onto the settee. “I won’t lie—I was rather angry. And I’m still a bit hurt. If you and Daphne are fortunate to have a daughter, you will understand.”
A daughter with bright hazel eyes, wavy auburn hair, an inquisitive nature, and a sharp mind… Gideon suddenly wanted that more than anything. For the first time, he thought of a future with children without suffering that horrific pang of having lost one along with his wife. “I think I might already,” Gideon said quietly.
“Ah, I think you do.” Foliot’s gaze softened, and whatever the man’s crimes, he clearly loved his daughter. Gideon’s insides knotted. “Daphne is my entire world. I know you think other things may be more important to me, but they aren’t. She is the most important thing. You must make her happy, or it will not end well for you.” He said this with a light tone, but there was a steel in his gaze that Gideon recognized as a threat.
Yes, this man might be a monster, but he was also Daphne’s father. And Gideon knew precisely what it was like to have a monster for a father. What it was like to idolize that father only to be rudely awakened to his true nature.
Gideon ached for the truths that Daphne would soon face and wished he could protect her from them. It was why he hadn’t detailed her father’s offenses. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to.
But then what did that mean? Did he think that once he’d returned the treasures to Gareth that Foliot would stop looking for them? Would he give up on Camelot and suddenly become an honest, righteous man?
Why not? Gideon had changed himself. He’d gone from a wastrel to an earnest husband to a grieving widower to a thief and accomplice to violence. And now he was trying to atone for all of it by returning the treasures and protecting them from the likes of Foliot. Would it be enough?
No. Nothing would ever be enough.
He realized he should say something to reassure Foliot of his commitment to Daphne. “I will endeavor to make Daphne happy and keep her safe. That I can promise you.” Gideon didn’t know what their future held—if it would include an annulment or not—but he would protect her with his dying breath.
A question stole into his mind, and he spoke it before he could censor himself. “What happened to Daphne’s mother?”
Foliot’s eyes widened for a bare moment. “She spoke of her? She rarely does anymore.”
“She disappeared a long time ago—nearly
fifteen years?”
“It troubles me still,” Foliot said, his gaze darkening. “She was a scholar, like Daphne. She’d taken a trip to Cornwall to visit Tintagel. Like Daphne’s passion for Morgan le Fay, she had a similar obsession for Merlin. She was convinced some of the Thirteen Treasures are guarded by him even now. Once, she got a bit too close to learning something, and the Order asked me to keep her in her place.” His voice hardened, and Gideon began to see why Foliot might be at odds with the greater organization. Why he might seek to poison it from within.
Foliot looked away momentarily, his jaw stiff. When he returned his gaze to Gideon’s, it was laced with venom. “I believe they killed her.”
It was a shocking accusation, and yet Gideon had heard enough about things the Order had done over the centuries to think it was at least possible. “Do you have evidence?”
Foliot’s lip curled. “You sound like one of them. But then I suppose you are.”
“As much as you,” Gideon said, knowing Foliot’s leg bore the same tattoo as his. How Gideon wished he could erase the mark now. Once the treasures were restored to Gareth, he wanted to go back to Stratton Hall and simply be an earl. If that was even possible. He wondered if Septon had managed to free the vicar and steal his proof, but didn’t dare raise Foliot’s suspicions by mentioning the vicar at all. “I wasn’t trying to defend them. You know how I feel about the Order.”
“You still despise Septon, then?” Foliot had exploited Gideon’s hatred for the man to recruit him to Camelot.
“My feelings regarding Septon have not changed. My father’s death makes my mother less of a pariah, I suppose, but the damage was done long ago.”
“It was never about your mother,” Foliot said softly, his gaze sharp. “This was always about the boy they’d destroyed with their illicit love affair.”
The old fury rose up inside Gideon. Foliot was doing it again, stoking Gideon’s anger to pit him against the Order because it would serve Foliot’s goals. For a while, Gideon had shared those goals, and he needed to ensure Foliot believed he still did. “I’m still committed to Camelot,” Gideon said. “However, I might be of more use to you if I knew what you intended to do once you have the treasures in your possession.”