by C. J. Archer
A path cut through an overgrown garden of roses, honeysuckle, lavender, and a mix of wildflowers, all in full bloom. The heads of the white pompom flower and blue spears of a tall delphinium swayed in the light breeze, and a vine strangled what appeared to be a stone bench seat.
The cottage might have been on the same estate as the palace, but it felt like a world away from the orderly opulence, the bustle of organized chaos. The palace was all dazzling glory, whereas the cottage was wild yet an oasis of calm. The palace dominated its landscape, demanding attention, but the cottage blended into its surrounds, as if it were part of the forest.
"It's as if it has always been here," I murmured.
"And yet it didn't exist mere months ago?" Dane asked in quiet earnest.
"It did not. I've been in this valley before, and walked through this forest collecting plants for my medicines. I don't know every inch, but I would have heard of the existence of a cottage like this."
"I thought as much."
I accepted his help to dismount. His hands did not linger on my waist and his gaze did not meet mine. He quickly moved away once both of my feet were firmly on the ground.
"Come with me," he said.
He indicated I should walk ahead of him along the path to the front door. Up close, I could see patches of mildwood, hollyroot and catspaw growing between the larger bushes.
"Can I collect some herbs?" I asked.
"Take all you need, but let me show you inside first."
"Is this where you buried the king's cabinet?"
"Beyond that iron gate," he said, pointing to the side of the cottage. "It's under a thorny yellow rose."
"Is that why you brought me here? To show me where it's hidden?"
"No."
"Then why?" I asked, glancing at him over my shoulder.
"Has anyone ever told you that you lack patience?"
"My father, frequently." I stepped aside to allow him to unlock the cottage door. "Meg, too."
He pushed open the door and entered first. "Come in."
"I can't believe no one lives here, not even the head gardener."
"I doubt any of the gardeners ever come this far," he said. "There are no signs of their work in that garden. The only people I'm certain know the location of this cottage are Balthazar and myself, and now you."
The cottage wasn't unfurnished, as I expected it to be. The front door opened to the kitchen, similar to the one at my house, with a large fireplace and a good sized table, buttery and pantry. It even had a bread oven. A wall divided the kitchen from the parlor, a cozy space with two chairs angled toward the hearth. Dane opened the shutters, exposing the layers of dust and cobwebs. Despite that and the stale air, the cottage was in good condition. The fireplaces were clear of ash, the door hinges free of rust, yet it felt like it had stood in this spot for decades.
"There's one large bedroom upstairs," Dane said, pointing at the staircase. "It needs a clean and airing out, but otherwise, it's habitable."
"It's more than habitable, it's delightful. I know some families in The Row who would be quite happy to live here."
He just looked at me.
"I know, I know, it's not possible. It was just a passing thought."
"This is on the palace estate," he said. "I can't risk people I don't know living here."
"I understand. Forget I mentioned it. So why did you bring me here?"
He held up the iron key he'd used to unlock the front door. "It also unlocks the gate hidden behind the vines on the village road. It's now yours."
I frowned. "I don't follow."
He took my hand and pressed the key into my palm. "I want you to come here if it gets dangerous in the village."
I stared at him. Then a bubble of laughter rose up my throat. Trying to suppress it only ended in a choke. "Dane, have you gone mad? The trouble the other night was over before it began. It can hardly even be called trouble. I won't need this." I tried to give back the key but he refused.
"Keep it, just in case."
"In case of what?"
"In case you need it."
I sighed and followed him outside again, only to stop to take in the beautiful scenery spread before me like a tapestry. Beams of late afternoon sun speared through the trees surrounding the clearing and fell across the garden. Against the backdrop of the darkening forest, the flowers seemed more vibrant, and the bees and butterflies seemed to think so too as they hopped between them. Birds struck up a loud chorus in the trees circling the clearing, although I couldn't see them. They would soon be settling down for the night, and I needed to go too to make it home in daylight.
"Josie?"
"Hmmm?"
One side of Dane's mouth lifted. "So you are listening. Can you lock the door?"
I opened my palm and stared at the key. How strange to be given permission to walk into this cottage any time I wished. Well, not anytime. He'd made it clear it was for emergencies only. Since I couldn't imagine there ever being an emergency that would warrant me fleeing Mull, I would never get to use it. Still, it was very thoughtful.
I locked the door and stuffed a handful of herbs into my skirt pocket along with the key. Dane helped me onto the saddle then led Lightning back through the forest to the gate. Sky plodded along, happy enough to be in the stallion's company. Dane locked the gate after we passed through and gave the key back to me.
"Keep it safe," he said.
I slipped it into my pocket again and we rode back the way we'd come. The palace roof came into view, its golden capping dazzling in the sun, a bold reminder that it was the star of the show, not the smaller, less significant cottage.
"Perhaps the sorcerer is in the palace itself," I said. "In its very walls, I mean. In its fabric."
Dane's gaze lifted to the palace roof too. "You think that may now be its home? Or its prison, if what Barborough says is correct?"
I shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. It seems more likely it's in that gemstone, but sometimes…I feel as though the palace has a…a presence. Not a mind of its own, exactly, just…" I trailed off before he thought me mad.
"As if it holds our memories," he murmured.
We rode in silence, turning off the village road back into the palace estate. As more of the building came into view, I was reminded of Ruth and the very real urgency to find her attacker before he struck again.
"What did the king mean when he said you'd been neglecting your duty?" I asked. "It's something to do with Ruth, isn't it?"
"He blames me for her rape. He says I should have been more vigilant, that I should keep dangerous people out."
"That's not fair. He can't blame you for what happened to her. There are so many people coming and going at all times, it's impossible for you to be aware of every single one."
He said nothing, merely stared straight ahead, his back ramrod straight.
"Don't blame yourself, Dane. It's not your fault." I wished I could get close to him and force him to look at me, but I didn't know how to steer Sky. "You couldn't have prevented what happened to her if you had a hundred guards at your command. If I were the king's adviser, I'd have told him so." I wasn't sure if Balthazar or Theodore would say as much to the king but I knew Dane would defend them if they found themselves in his position.
He remained silent the rest of the way to the stables, and I regretted souring the mood. Our visit to the cottage had been pleasant, and I'd enjoyed his company, but it had come to an abrupt end.
"You didn't fall off, miss?" asked the same groom as earlier.
"She's a lovely horse," I said. "Don't send her to the knackery."
"She's yours whenever you want to ride her."
"Thank you, but I doubt I'll be riding again." I accepted Dane's assistance to dismount. "I have no reason to come back here," I said for his benefit.
Dane turned away so I couldn't see his reaction.
The groom led the horses off and Dane headed for the exit. "It'll be dusk soon," he said. "Take a carriage back
to the village."
"I will," I said, unsure if I would bother but not wanting an argument about it.
He gave me a nod, a flat smile, and a simple, "Farewell," and then he was gone, striding along Grand Avenue toward the palace. I almost chased him, to tell him again that Ruth's situation wasn't his fault, but I suspected my words wouldn't be welcome.
I headed in the opposite direction, deciding to walk after all. It took several minutes to reach the end of the stable and coach house buildings. The avenue ahead was quiet, with no deliveries this late and no nobles returning after a day out. They would all be safely ensconced inside the palace, having their hair arranged, choosing their evening outfits, sipping fine wine and eating sweetmeats.
If it hadn't been so quiet, I would not have heard the muffled cry.
I spun around, just in time to see Ruth being dragged behind the stable building, her mouth covered by her attacker's hand. His face was turned away from me but he was dressed like a gentleman in a silver and peacock blue doublet.
Merdu! I picked up my skirts and ran. It wasn't until I rounded the stables that I realized I had no weapon on me and could not fight off the gentleman alone.
Chapter 15
"Unhand her!" I shouted.
The gentleman looked up and we both gasped. Lord Xavier Deerhorn!
Thank the god and goddess, he let Ruth go. I wouldn't have known what to do if he had not.
She rushed to my side and we clasped one another tightly. "Are you all right?" I asked.
She nodded through her tears, but her shaking implied otherwise.
"Did he hurt you?"
She looked at Lord Xavier then shook her head.
"Go!" he ordered her. "Get going! I wish to speak with the midwife alone." He stood with his feet apart, hands clenched into fists at his sides. It wasn't until he stepped toward us that she picked up her skirts and ran off.
"You have nothing to say that I want to hear," I told him. I turned to follow her, but he caught my arm. "Let me go!"
"Not yet. I need to talk to you. If I let you go, will you stay?"
"That depends on what it is you want from me."
My answer must have satisfied him because he loosened his grip enough for me to jerk free. "Stand there and talk," I said, pointing to a spot on the gravel at a safe distance.
"No," he said in a harsh voice that seemed to come from the depths of him. "You do not tell me what to do."
I inched backward to where I thought I would be safe. He watched, his dark grey eyes glittering as his gaze traveled my length. The man had an insatiable appetite for women, so I'd heard. What would he do if he found satisfaction difficult to come by of late here at the palace?
I glanced behind me to make sure Ruth had made her escape. "What were you doing with her?" I asked.
"I don't have to answer you," he sneered. "How dare you even presume such a thing!"
"Then state your business with me. I'd like to leave."
He rubbed his lips together, moistening them. "I want to urge you to reconsider my proposition."
"To spy on the duke of Gladstow for you? My decision stands. I won't spy on him or anyone else."
I went to walk off but he grabbed my arm and hauled me back. I stumbled but his bruising grip held me upright.
"Stop struggling," he hissed. "You do not get to walk away until I've dismissed you."
"Unhand me! You are not my master." I tried pulling free but he was too strong, too determined that he not be thwarted again.
"My father is your lord and I am his heir."
"I am a free woman, not a Deerhorn servant."
His chuckle held no humor, only cruelty. "You're stupid if you believe we have no influence over you. All of Mull is under our influence. Your father was allowed to work as a doctor there because my father let him. It suited us to have a healer nearby. But he's gone now, and you are nothing. It would be easy for you to become less than nothing. All it would take would be an accusation of doctoring."
"I have not done any medical work other than midwifery, and I am allowed to sell medicines."
"Who'll believe your denials when the noble Deerhorn family states otherwise?"
An icy chill seeped through to my bones. He would do it, too. He and his mother would take delight in seeing me punished. They knew I couldn't pay a fine, that I would have to sell my belongings. He was wrong in that no one from the village would believe his family over me, but he was right in that it didn't matter what the villagers believed. The Deerhorns would get their way. If they wanted to crush me, they could.
He dragged me closer, slamming my body against his, crushing my skirts. The lump in his breeches proved just how excited our conversation made him. Perhaps not the conversation but the power he held over me. Lord Xavier liked women to be vulnerable and afraid.
I wouldn't give him satisfaction by showing my fear. He might have the upper hand, but I would not let him see that I knew it. It was tempting to jerk my knee into his groin, but even if it forced him to let me go, he would catch me again when I fled.
"Spy for me, Josie," he said, "or there will be consequences."
His gaze suddenly shifted and he glanced over my head. He released me and I stepped away, stumbling in my haste. I regained my balance just as Lady Deerhorn rode up to us on a pristine white horse.
"What is the meaning of this?" she barked. "Why are you bothering my son?"
"He was bothering me," I said, rubbing my arm. "Before that, he was bothering one of the maids."
Lady Deerhorn's nostrils flared, but her accusatory glare remained on me. "Don't be absurd. He has better taste than to dabble with a village girl and maid."
We all knew that wasn't true, but he'd never been arrested for raping the village girl some years ago. Rumor had it the governor wouldn't even allow the sheriff to question him.
Lord Xavier snorted a laugh. His mother finally turned that steely glare onto him.
He swallowed. "I thought I'd ask her again if she'd spy for us, Mother. She refused."
So Lady Deerhorn did know about the spying. Perhaps it had been her idea to enlist me, thinking me easy to manipulate. It was telling that she seemed annoyed he'd taken it upon himself to ask me again. She must have told him not to.
I picked up my skirts and walked away, not wanting to linger, but Lady Deerhorn wheeled her horse around and cut me off. The horse was jittery, tossing its head and trying to turn again. She pulled hard on the reins and the horse jerked its head in protest.
"Do not run to the captain or there will be consequences," she said.
"What does it matter what I do?" I snapped back. "I am nobody, aren't I? I'm nothing. If I accuse you or your son of asking me to spy for you, I won't be taken seriously, will I?"
Her nostrils flared again, and it was in that moment that I realized I did have some power. She was worried that I'd talk. I might not be believed by the other nobles, but Dane would believe me, and he had the king's ear. Kitty might also believe me, and if she told her husband, the Deerhorns' plotting would come to naught.
I marched back to Grand Avenue with my head high and my stomach in knots. While it was a relief to know I wasn't entirely powerless, I was very aware that the Deerhorns would want to keep a close eye on me.
Instead of heading toward the village, I slipped into the shadows of the stable's long colonnaded portico. The faint conversation between mother and son gradually grew louder as they returned to Grand Avenue too.
"You fool," Lady Deerhorn spat. "You should not have asked her again."
"I agree," he said. "I should not have asked, I should have forced her."
"Stop this! Stop this obsession with her at once before it goes too far. She should be ignored. She's beneath your notice."
"I'm not obsessed."
Lady Deerhorn said nothing.
"Besides, if she's not important, why does the king trust her?" Lord Xavier asked petulantly. "Why does she have his ear?"
How did they know the k
ing had asked for my advice? Perhaps they'd guessed after seeing me coming or going from his apartments. Gossip in the palace spread faster than the plague and was just as deadly, so it was possible they hadn't even seen me in that part of the palace at all but had merely heard about it.
Gravel crunched beneath the horse's hooves. I moved behind one of the columns and prayed they wouldn't peer too hard into the shadows.
"He should be asking Father for local advice," Lord Xavier said with a pout in his voice.
I hugged the cool stone column and watched as Lord Xavier walked alongside the horse, his shoulders a little rounder than before, the sneering curl to his lip no longer in evidence.
His mother sat in the saddle with all the elegance of one born to ride magnificent white horses. Her purple riding cape spread behind her over the horse's rump without a single crease; her broad-brimmed hat sat perfectly askew at just the right angle to send the plumes shooting straight up. Every inch of her, from her haughty bearing to her pristine white boots, was carefully considered to convey authority, wealth, and privilege.
"I'm going to bury her," she said, teeth clenched so that only her lips moved.
Everything inside me recoiled. I wanted to shrink further into the shadows but didn't dare move. I wanted to gasp for air because suddenly it seemed scarce, yet I didn't dare make a sound.
I watched mother and son as they made their way to the stable entrance where a groom took the horse and Lady Deerhorn dismounted. Two sedan chairs trotted up to carry them back to the palace.
Still I did not move. I wanted them well gone before I returned to the palace. Going back was something I had to do. I had to check on Ruth and find out what Lord Xavier wanted from her.
Two grooms emerged from the stables with blazing torches in hand. One went left and the other turned right. They reached up and lit the torches fixed to the portico columns. On the other side of the Grand Avenue, servants emerged from the coach house entrance and did the same. More servants lit the torches closer to the palace and in the forecourts, and suddenly the twilit indigo sky no longer looked so forbidding.