“I can handle that . . .”
“Are you sure?” Devin eyed her sharply.
“Quite sure.”
“Because I could . . .” Devin’s worried look vanished. “No. You are right. I shouldn’t doubt your desire to see this matter resolved.”
Cecily nodded. The two locked gazes and an impressive stillness settled across the room. She squirmed. What should they do now? Kiss again? Her gaze dropped to his lips. He licked them.
“By the way,” Devin broke the silence. “I’m sorry to hear about the warehouse fire.”
“Pardon me?” Cecily realized she’d been studying Devin’s mouth so intently she’d missed everything he’d said.
“The warehouse fire?”
“Oh, that. I’ve only heard rumors. I don’t involve myself in Ian’s business.”
“Still, it is a shame that such a fine building was destroyed.”
“Fine building?”
“Yes, I actually tried to purchase the property myself a few months ago, but Ian bought it out from under me.”
“I think you’re mistaken. Ian has owned the warehouse on Easton Street for years.”
“Easton?” His brow furrowed. “Oh. I must have mixed up the buildings. Well, I’m glad the three-story on the docks is still standing.”
“Ian doesn’t own any kind of warehouse on the docks. He should, but-”
“Yes, he does.”
“He never told me about it.”
“I had some men down on the docks earlier today looking into the availability of a sailing ship . . .” Devin waved his hand in the air. “Anyway, they told me they saw . . .” He snapped his fingers. “. . . I can never remember that ship’s name, the transport ship Caleachey sails.”
“The Serenity?”
“Yes! The Serenity. The cargo from that ship was being stored in Ian’s new warehouse.”
“That cannot be. Ian always stores his goods in the warehouse on Easton. Why would he switch it . . .?”
She trailed off as the answer came to her. Ian must be lying about the cargo being destroyed! But why would he . . .?
The tariff he’d paid the crown. Ian would go to her grandfather asking for it back and the silly old fool would give it to him, no questions asked. And then, Ian could sell the cargo for a substantial profit and spend his ill-gotten gains on all his whores!
Cecily fell into an armchair and stared dumbly at Devin. If anyone had asked her this morning if she could ever believe Ian capable of cheating, in business, or on her, she would have answered them with an emphatic ‘no.’ Despite his shortcomings, she had always believed him to be a fair man, but now . . . her eyes had been opened.
Cecily looked down at the crumpled letters and shook her head in disbelief. So much had changed since this morning. What else had Ian lied about? Her heart raced, and tiny black spots appeared before her eyes. She had to escape it somehow . . . had to escape this nightmare.
She started to rise and fainted.
Chapter 33
It was nearly midnight before Ian found Kylpin in The Prancing Piper’s back room lounging between two scantily clad women. He held up the blue undergarment. “What is this?”
Kylpin dragged his attention away from the ladies. “Ian!” He chuckled drunkenly. “If I have to tell you what those are then perhaps-”
“No. I don’t mean that,” Ian fumed. He glowered at the women. “Will you give us a moment alone?”
“Ian . . . what are you doing?”
“We need to talk.”
Kylpin caught the hard edge in his voice and shooed the women away. “I’ll come and find you when we’re done here. Don’t go too far.”
The women disentangled themselves from Kylpin and brushed past Ian as they stalked out of the room.
“Tell me, my friend, what is troubling . . .?”
Ian threw the undergarment at him.
Kylpin picked the bit of silk up off his lap. “Why are you throwing these at me?”
“Your friend, Josephine, put those in my cloak.”
“She’s Evie’s friend, not mine.” Kylpin twirled the undergarment around on the tip of his index finger. “I never saw her before this afternoon.”
“Regardless, I think Cecily found those in my desk. Along with this!” He thrust Josephine’s love letter in front of Kylpin’s face.
Kylpin rubbed at his dark eyes and squinted at the paper. “I’m sorry, my friend. I cannot make out the words. The letters are swimming all over the page.”
“It claims we’ve been lovers!”
Kylpin sat up straight. “We?” He waggled his finger back and forth between the two of them.
“NO! Not you and me! Josephine and me!” Ian shouted. He winced at his own loudness. “Cecily left for the castle . . . Tyran heard us arguing . . .” He slumped onto a bench across from Kylpin and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s been a really long day . . . first the fires and now this.”
“Do not worry, my friend. You did not injure my feelings.” Kylpin leaned forward and placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “Now tell me. How is Tyran? Getting big?”
Ian nodded.
“Of course, he is. I’m sure he’s a big, strong boy, just like his father. He’ll be fine.”
“Perhaps you’re right. I just hate when he hears Cecily and me arguing.”
“At least he knows you both. My mum and pa abandoned me on Arne’s transport ship when I was a babe.”
“I know, it’s just . . . I don’t want to expose him to all our . . .” Ian lowered his voice, “. . . problems. I just want him to be happy.”
“Just, just, just. My friend, you cannot control everything in his life. You cannot shield him from the pain of growing up.” Kylpin sat back and snorted. “But why do you listen to me? I am not married. I have no children, at least, none that I know of . . . I have no ship . . . no shipmates. I have nothing.” He glanced at the undergarment dangling from his finger and raised an eyebrow. “Except these.”
“You have your friends here in Belyne,” Ian said. “And you have Evie.”
Kylpin shrugged. “Occasionally, my friend, but not tonight it seems. Tonight . . .” His voice lost its merriment. “. . . She is with another man.”
“If she’s your lady, why . . .?” Ian trailed off.
“Why does she still whore around?”
Ian raised a hand. “It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“She is not faithful to me, because I am not faithful to her.” Kylpin gestured toward the common room. “And I don’t mean with those other women.” His dark eyes glazed over for a moment, as if he was lost in thought. “My first love has always been the sea, and Evie knows it. She also knows I cannot give it up. So, we share what little time we have and try to make the best of it when we are together.” He offered a brief, but unconvincing smile. “I am only in Belyne three months of twelve, sometimes less. What kind of life can I offer her? She won’t board a ship and I prefer the feel of a rolling deck beneath my feet.” He took a sip from his tankard. “How can I ask her to change her life for me, when I cannot alter mine for her?”
“Have you ever told her how you feel?”
“What does it matter? Feelings only muddy our situation. Besides, we were talking about you, my friend.” He glanced at the undergarment. “And these.”
“It’s not important.”
Kylpin snorted. “This is not a pleasant place. You would not have come back here if it were unimportant. What can I do to help?”
Ian stood and paced around the dingy back room. “You were with me earlier. You could tell Cecily I didn’t dally with Josephine.”
“You are jumping ahead a few steps,” Kylpin said. “You don’t even know for sure Cecily saw these or the letter.”
“My desk drawer was pried open.”
“Then why didn’t she mention it to you? Pardon me for saying this, my friend, but your wif
e does not strike me as a woman who often holds her tongue.”
Ian stopped pacing and returned to his seat. “Then who, if not her, pried open my drawer?”
“I don’t know but having me speak on your behalf is not a good idea. Cecily does not like me.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
Kylpin laughed. “Indeed. We are both being much too kind. In truth, she hates me.”
Ian grimaced.
“Besides,” Kylpin added. “If you are unhappy in your marriage, why do you care what she thinks? If she saw these and the letter and chose to leave without even asking you about it, let her leave, I say. Why do you want her back?”
“For Tyran,” Ian answered immediately, “and to maintain the truce between Gyunwar and Yordic.”
“Both noble causes, my friend. But is sacrificing your happiness worth the trouble?”
“Yes! Tyran’s happiness is all that matters.” He swallowed the growing lump in his throat. “And as ambassador, I must work to preserve the peace.”
Kylpin studied him for a moment. “Very well, my friend. If Cecily confronts you, I will tell her the truth, whatever good it might do.” He held up the blue undergarment. “Do you want these back?”
“You can keep them.”
Kylpin stuffed them into a pocket and rose unsteadily. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I might just go find Evie after all.”
“Are you going to talk to her?”
Kylpin’s bearded face broke into a lopsided grin. “My friend, when it comes to Evie, I don’t do much talking.” He shuffled toward the rear door which led to the alley. “Go home,” he called over his shoulder. “Get some rest. I am sure everything will look better come morning.”
Ian watched his friend leave and then headed toward the front of the tavern. The two scantily clad women were already flirting with a couple of men near the door. As he walked past, he realized they were the same Yordicians he’d seen earlier carrying the strange mirror. They each gave him a hard stare before returning their attention to the women sitting on their laps.
Ian found a carriage waiting for him outside.
“Take me to Weatherall Es-”
Something struck the back of his head and he pitched forward into darkness.
Chapter 34
Cecily woke in bed. Devin was gently daubing her forehead with a wet towel.
“Welcome back.”
“What happened?” She glanced around the room. They were in Devin’s chambers. The balcony doors were thrown open and beyond she spied the night sky. A cool breeze wafted in and she inhaled deeply.
“You fainted. I carried you in here, so you could rest more comfortably. It’s only been a few minutes, half an hour at the most.”
The memory of their earlier conversation flooded back. “I . . . I just can’t believe Ian would . . . He’s a fraud!”
“Hush.” Devin placed a finger over her lips. “No more talk about him tonight. The stress has been too much for you. What you need now is sleep.”
“Don’t leave me alone.” Cecily gripped his hand fiercely. What was it about him that made her will soften? His eyes, she decided, and the way he looked at her as if she was . . . precious.
Why hadn’t Ian ever looked at her that way? Would it have made a difference?
“I won’t leave you.” He gestured toward a rocking chair across the room. “I’ll watch over you from there all night.”
“No. I want you to stay here with me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, drew him closer and kissed his lips.
“Cecily,” Devin said between kisses. “We shouldn’t start something . . .”
“I want to start something.”
“We can’t finish it.”
“Yes,” she said, looking at him meaningfully. “Yes, we can.”
Without another word, she pulled him down on top of her. She didn’t want to talk anymore. She didn’t want to think anymore. She only wanted to feel alive. And in his arms, years ago, was the last place she remembered feeling that way.
With a sudden ache of inner longing, she tore at his clothes. Buttons skipped wildly across the marble floor as she ripped open his shirt. Taut muscles greeted her frantic fingers.
“Cecily . . .” he breathed. “Are you sure?”
She answered him by deftly undoing his belt and pulling his trousers down.
Dissolving quickly beneath his touch, his kiss, she didn’t bother removing her dress. She hiked the hem up to her waist. Immediately, he was there between her thighs, tearing at her undergarments. She spread her legs wider and he pushed inside without hesitation. All thought left her. All reason fled from her mind. Her blood burned in her veins. Her body writhed. She heard someone laughing and crying. Was it her? She didn’t care. She didn’t want to feel anything except him. She clawed viciously at his back. There it was, just the beginnings. She closed her eyes. He growled in her ear, deep and primal. She matched each of his thrusts with ones of her own, rocking her hips up and off the bed. It was too much and not enough all at once. She wanted more. More. More!
And then a scream shook loose as she clung to him, wailing, her head thrown back, bucking uncontrollably as tremor after tremor coursed through her body. She never wanted it to stop. Her breath became ragged, her throat raw. Her body came alive again and for the first time in a very long time, she felt something . . .
She felt free!
Chapter 35
Ragget waited until Cecily had fallen asleep before he extracted himself from under her arm. She mumbled something unintelligible. He paused, but instead of waking, she simply rolled over. He rose and padded barefoot and naked toward the open balcony door.
“That was quite a performance.”
Ragget twitched. Gylfalen leaned casually against the railing outside.
“I was rather impressed,” the wind mage added.
“What are you doing here?” Ragget growled. He grabbed for his robe and wrapped it around his body before joining the wind mage outside. “I did not send for you.”
Gylfalen pointed to the bed. “I was watching you and her together.”
“Who told you to do that?”
“I’ve been spying on her for you for months,” Gylfalen said. “And in all that time, I’ve never seen her once-”
“Orgasm?”
The shadowy features of the wind mage pinched into a dark frown. “I was not going to say that.”
“No?” Ragget took a step closer. A hint of the night wind drifted around the mage. “Then what’s this talk about ‘quite a performance’ and being ‘impressed’?”
“With a few forged love-letters and some well-turned lies, you’ve managed to separate Lord Weatherall from his wife and cuckold him all in one night.”
Ragget grinned.
Gylfalen’s dark eyes returned to Cecily’s naked form. “But now that you’ve gained a prize to play with, I want some reassurances you won’t lose your focus on the grander scheme.”
Ragget’s grin melted. “I have never been more focused in my entire life.” He gripped the rail firmly and looked out over the sleeping city. Perhaps he had won Cecily back, but she wasn’t the only prize he coveted. “We will cleanse Belyne of the Gyunwarian filth. For far too long, they have muddied our city and its people.” He sniffed the night air. “And once the stink of their kind has been lifted from our jeweled City of the South, we will move across our land and cleanse the rest of Yordic as well.” He cast a scorching glance at Gylfalen. “I have committed the whole of my life and wealth to this goal and it only begins with Weatherall. Doubt my concentration or desire to complete this self-appointed task at your own peril, wind-mage. I will not suffer questions about my faith from anyone. Not even you. Do I make myself clear?”
Under his hood, Gylfalen remained still. Finally, he nodded.
Ragget glanced at the city again. “I suggest you return to your list of chores. Orrington’s carriage still needs to be returned and . . .”
The balcony was empty.
Gylfalen had slipped away. Only a whisper of a retreating wind brushed against Ragget’s bare ankles. “And keep a sharp ear out for my call,” he shouted after him. His jaw clenched. Damn mages and their theatrics.
He swiped a hand through his wind-blown hair. Ian Weatherall’s downfall was only the first step toward a great revolution. Toppling him was like tipping the first domino in a very long line. Each action would result in a precise reaction. Each calculated maneuver would lead to the next. Life’s chessboard was laid out before him and the pieces were already in play. Ian was already heading toward an inevitable checkmate and the damn fool hadn’t even figured out the game they were playing yet. No one had, not even Gylfalen. Ragget had made a point of not revealing everything to the wind mage, only a small portion of his scheme, just enough to whet the other’s appetite for mayhem. His end game was far grander, far more prestigious and far more dangerous than anything the mighty wind mage could ever conjure.
Ragget allowed himself a moment to dwell on that distant day when everything would come together and the power he sought would be his. He would either succeed or die trying.
“And death,” he told the night as he turned and headed back to bed, “is completely unacceptable.”
Chapter 36
It took Ian a few minutes to realize the squawking noise disturbing him was the piercing cries of seagulls. In his grogginess, he couldn’t figure out why the noisy birds were so far inland when there was so much garbage available to them on the docks. Maybe Gertrude was having the scullions clean her kitchen again.
“Go away,” he murmured, covering his face with his arm. “Leave me in peace!”
But the birds did not go away, and as the blanket of sleep sloughed off him completely, he became acutely aware of the scratchy sheets and the lumpy mattress.
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