The Other Woman

by The other woman (NCP) (lit)

  "Yes. Whatever she needs must be urgent. I’m just sorry we have never found that dog, Eville. I’d be happier about traveling if we didn’t have to look behind every tree and under every rock as we went."

  "You’re used to having enemies." Though Roland had to admit, few were as dogged as Eville. The young lord had taken a lust for Ceylon and pursued her before she and Uric had met. It was fortunate for Ceylon that the queen had sent for her when she had, because Eville would have eventually cornered her on a dark night and taken his pleasure. Once she’d come under Uric’s protection, Eville had grown even more ugly. He’d tried to snatch her on the way to Queenstown and barely escaped with his life. Uric had taken his sword arm before he’d run, though. It was some consolation, but no one would be happy until the man was dead, not when he was still trying to kill Ceylon. When Eville was combined with Uric’s own enemies, it would make their trip a dangerous one.

  Uric glanced up from the list he was writing. "I’d rather have them trying for my life than my wife’s."

  Uncomfortably reminded of Ally’s situation, Roland promised himself that he would return home the day Uric left Shardsvale. He had things to see to.

  "I forgot, this came for you." Uric rifled through the papers on his desk and came up with a scroll, which he handed to Roland.

  It was a missive from his steward at Riverdell. Unconsciously tensing, Roland broke the seal. "My lord, I thought you might wish to know that our lady is no longer in residence. By the time you read this she will have bypassed Shardsvale and gone on to Queenstown. Though she took soldiers with her, I am concerned for her safety, and thought it wise to inform you. Your servant, Chirr.

  Roland cursed. "It looks like I’ll be riding to Queenstown with you after all."

  Chapter 16

  Ally had grown tired of waiting at home like a patient, penitent wife. Roland wasn’t coming back. Fine. Let him go his merry way. It was time to take action.

  Against all advice and terrible odds, she’d stormed the pass and bypassed Shardsvale. The road was cold, but she had her anger to keep her warm. Roland had deserted her. Maybe he already had another mistress. If so, the queen would not deny her petition.

  She would not be the other woman.

  Besides, she had a quest. Datsig had come to her once she’d mastered her grief, and he had news. Jean was in Queenstown, and his wife and child were safely out of the way on his estates.

  Revenge was going to be more than sweet.

  She took up residence outside the palace in a rented house, installing Datsig and the rest of her guard on a rotating security shift. Those who weren’t on guard spent their time in the house next door, which she was also renting. It made for an interesting situation, and she could just speculate what the neighbors thought--after all, her husband was not with her, and she had all those brawny men just next door--but she didn’t care. Protecting her reputation after all those years of tarnish was the last thing on her mind. Perhaps it might even exasperate the queen and push her to grant Ally’s annulment. After all, it was Roland who had disobeyed her order to reside under one roof.

  By nightfall of the first day, Dante had sniffed her out. Unsurprised, she looked up as he was shown into her sitting room and offered him an overstuffed tapestry chair. She was seated in its mate, with her feet propped on the tasseled ottoman. A well-fed fire crackled in the grate.

  He drew off his gloves with a frown. "Where’s Roland?"

  She shrugged and poured him some wine from the decanter at her elbow. "Who knows? I’m not his keeper. Perhaps he’s holed up in Shardsdale with a mistress for the winter." In spite of her careless tone, her hand tightened on the cup.

  Dante’s mouth tightened. "I’ll grant you that he’s been in a black mood, but he wouldn’t betray you. Likely he’s just off licking his wounds."

  "His wounds? Oh, I bleed for him! Where was he when I was grieving? I would like to give him a wound or two." Bright anger clouded her vision. She understood why Roland had left, but it still burned. He’d been jealous. Maybe he’d had reason, but he didn’t have to desert her. It got old, being left behind. It was about time someone else did the leaving, so she’d volunteered. They would never suit. She should have stuck to her conviction all along.

  Dante swirled his drink in his cup and adopted an innocent expression. "Well, I hope you’re prepared to deal with him. The moment he enters the city, he will seek you out. Being who he is, he’s going to take up residence whether you like it or not, and remember, he has the blessing of the queen. By the way, he’s not going to like Datsig, either. No one that closely connected to Merrick will please him, and it doesn’t help that he’s well-favored."

  That gave her pause. Datsig was a handsome one--tall, dark of hair and eye, and a little older than she was. More than that, he was well-mannered and protective of her. He also looked at her with interest, and that was dangerous. Unlike Merrick, Datsig could do something about it.

  It would cause problems.

  "What do you suggest?"

  Dante rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and absently stroked his lower lip. "Hm. It’s difficult. It won’t matter to Roland that Datsig seeks Van Sadis--he’ll see a rival in that, too, at least at first. Choosing one of them seems to be your only option; that is, if you care anything at all about keeping two good men from becoming bitter enemies."

  Ally looked up and sighed. He was so dramatic. "Speaking of Van Sadis, what have you learned? Anything useful enough to take to the queen? She frowns on her nobles killing each other off without proof of guilt."

  He blinked at her, slowly, like a cat.

  "You know something." His face gave nothing away, but she was no fool. He wouldn’t be inscrutable if he had nothing to hide.

  "Perhaps, but it’s not for your ears. At least, not yet."

  Frustration made her itch to pace. "You’re going to tell Roland first."

  He lifted one shoulder negligibly. "Blood first and all that."

  "Odd. For a brother-in-law, you’ve been considerably fraternal over the years." How many times had he shown up with badly needed advice at just the right time? Much of what she’d learned about intrigue and politics she’s learned over a chessboard with him.

  He smiled and toasted her with his glass. "That’s what elder brothers do--take care of their younger brother’s business until they grow up enough to manage it. You’ve grown into a fine woman, Ally. I’m eager to see you settle down."

  She considered him thoughtfully. "Interesting words from someone who seems determined to be alone."

  One black brow quirked up. "Did you think I would fall in love with your friend Rune? She’s nice, but not what I need."

  "Who is she?" Suddenly she just knew. Somewhere, Dante had a woman. Either that or he was madly in love with someone beyond his touch. Since those were rare, she wondered if his secret love was a married woman.

  He looked away. "My love life is not as interesting as you imagine it to be."

  "Are you a eunuch?"

  He shot her a dirty look.

  "Well, since I know you’re no monk, I assume it has to be more interesting than mine. Rumor has it you’re much in demand."

  "’Rumor is a prostitute--she’ll lie with anyone’, and you should know about the power of rumor."

  She shrugged. "Someday I’ll find you out." But not anytime soon. First she had to settle her own love life, or what passed for one. For someone reputed to be fast and loose, she was beginning to feel deprived.

  * * * *

  Dante met Roland as he rode into the city. Being his usual enigmatic self, he nodded at his brother and moved his horse to walk beside Roland’s.

  Roland canted his head and studied his brother. He had that inscrutable look again, the one that always boded ill.

  "Jean has a mistress in the city."

  "Why doesn’t that surprise me?" Jean hadn’t struck him as the faithful sort. He wondered what Ally would think when she knew. Surely it would rankle. Even if she di
dn’t want Van Sadis, every woman wanted to think that she was the only one.

  "It’s Marissa."

  Roland inhaled sharply.

  "She went to him after you threw her out. Now that he’s returned to the city, he keeps her constantly at his side. I think he’s hoping for a confrontation."

  "Does Ally know?"

  Dante slowly shook his head, his expression grave.

  "I’ll tell her myself. We might as well get it out of the way." He wasn’t hiding behind silence on this one, not when she might see Marissa and Sadis together at any moment. While Marissa did not have rank and couldn’t attend the more formal functions as they could, there were still many opportunities for Van Sadis to flaunt her. How Van Sadis thought this would further his plans to win Ally, Roland didn’t know, but he didn’t relish running into the pair of them. He didn’t love Marissa anymore, but the memories were there.

  When had Sadis set him up as an enemy? Roland frowned and reviewed history in his head. Marissa had left, Roland had been captured and Jean had tried to make Ally his mistress while he’d taken a wife, making it impossible for her to be anything but a kept woman. The only link between the three was Roland himself … why had Van Sadis interfered in Roland’s life? He’d never even met the man, and he was bent on destroying Roland’s life.

  He glanced at his brother and found him looking enigmatic again. More bad news was coming.

  "You remember Merrick’s captain, Datsig? I believe he tried to have your head not long ago."

  Roland grunted.

  "Ally has added him to her guards. They’ve joined forces to bring Jean down. Datsig wants his blood, and Ally would be pleased to see him get it."

  "Wonderful. Another hot-head to deal with."

  "You’re not angry." It was a statement, and Dante looked surprised.

  "It’s not the way to deal with Ally and her pets. I’ve learned that much since last I warred with her." His time at Shardsvale had cleared his head, and he’d seen that he was in the wrong. Whatever else he’d been, Merrick had been a friend to Ally when she had none. If nothing else, he deserved respect for that. Instead, Roland had staged a jealous fit.

  He grimaced. It wasn’t the way he would have liked to discover he was in love, but it had worked. Perhaps it had taken something so striking to convince his stubborn heart. Who knew? It didn’t matter now.

  He had to find his wife.

  * * * *

  "I apologize."

  Ally paused in mid-tirade, her mouth open like a fountain suddenly deprived of water. She’d been braced to deal with a stubborn, angry man, not one in the throws of contrition. Confused, she crossed her arms and let him have his say.

  "I was wrong to leave you while you were grieving. I was wrong to leave, period. However, I did learn something while we were apart. Ally, I love you." His eyes softened, and his expression....

  Sudden moisture blurred her vision. He loved her? How could he? No one ever had before, not truly.

  Sniffing away her traitorous tears, she turned away. Hadn’t she spent enough nights grieving over him? It had been hard enough to steel her heart against him this time. If she gave in now, there would be no going back.

  No one would believe her if they saw her now. Where was the Iron Maiden? The fierce lady of Riverdell? She’d been reduced to a quivering girl.

  His arms slid around her, and she let him hold her loosely. He nudged her chin up and looked into her luminous eyes. "We’ve had enough grief between us, wife. Let’s make peace." He kissed her temple and tightened his hug, just holding her, not pressuring her. His gentle tact fair brought her to her knees.

  She felt him take a deep breath and step back, but he retained his hold on her hand.

  "We need to talk," he said quietly, and led her to the couch. Once they were settled, he looked at her gravely and said, "Jean Van Sadis is in the city."

  "I know."

  He went doggedly on. "He has a mistress."

  "Marissa."

  He blinked. It was the way she said it, so matter of fact. "How did you know?"

  "’Intrigue is my meat and milk, my boy‘, as Dante would say. Did you really think I wouldn’t keep track of what my enemies did, saw, and thought? She’s been his for some time now, though she’s been smart enough not to play the trick she did on you." While her voice dripped condensation, there was a hint of sympathy there, too.

  "Trick?"

  "She was never pregnant with your child. I know she told you she lost it, but--"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Our wedding. She told you she was pregnant to stop the wedding. I thought you’d figured that out by now."

  He blinked. "No."

  "I’m sorry. I only knew because she unleashed on me just before she was tossed out. You have terrible taste in women, Roland." She grimaced, realizing she’d just put herself in that category.

  "My father chose you. I just realized his wisdom a little late," he said firmly.

  She tilted her head, having a hard time believing it. Now that she had her emotions under control, her instincts cautioned her to go slowly. She tested him. "Maybe you should tell him. I’d heard that he’s in town.... Dante mentioned it."

  He raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. "Does this mean you’ve given up resisting?" He gave her a roguish smile.

  "Nooo, but I may be willing to give you a second chance."

  "You are willing."

  "Semantics."

  "They matter."

  She sighed. "Very well, you may have a second chance."

  Predatory pleasure glimmered in his eyes as he kissed her knuckles again, lingering this time. "I won’t need a third."

  * * * *

  They sent for their horses and rode to Diamond Square where his father was staying. They’d never visited him as a couple and Ally found she was nervous.

  Roland noticed and sent her a reassuring smile. "Ally, he’ll be pleased. However, it’s not the reason we’re going to see him. I’ve been thinking over our situation with Jean, and I have some questions for my father. If I signal you, will you think of an excuse to leave? There are some questions my father will feel more comfortable answering privately."

  "Of course. Do I get a full report?"

  "If I hear anything useful. My assumptions could be completely wrong."

  She shrugged. "Such is the nature of detective work. Good luck."

  Servants came running to fetch their horses. Roland winked at Ally and gestured for her to precede him into the house. Dark brown wood dominated the interior and a flight of stairs led to the next level. The occasional tapestry or shield decorated the stone walls but there were no rugs on the flagstone floor or feminine touches. Roland’s mother had been dead a long time and the old lord was a simple man.

  Roland’s father met with them in his library. The room was small and filled with ledgers. An account book was open in front of Lord Darchours and he had a quill in his hand. He set the pen aside when they entered and used his cane to rise. His expression of pleasure turned into a pained grimace. "Forgive me. These old bones are snarling at me for treating them so ill as a youth. Have a seat." With less grace than he’d used rising, he sat down.

  Ally had only to look at him to see what Roland would look like as he aged. Though he was in his sixties, Lord Darchours was a handsome man, and not all of the hair on his head had grayed, though his neatly trimmed beard was silver. Neither had the years erased his air of command.

  "I’m sorry to see your arthritis is worse, my lord," Ally said respectfully as she took one of the two seats before the work table. The upholstery was worn, but the padding remained sound. The old lord cared little for appearances. Roland claimed the other seat.

  "Bah! My health is sound enough. It’s only these old breaks that howl at me. What brings you here?"

  Ally grinned at him. "You don’t think we’ve sought the pleasure of your company?"

  His faded blue eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Not you,
cheeky miss. You’re wise enough to come to me for advice when you need it, but work yourself too hard for frivolous visits. What is it?" He looked expectantly at Roland.

  "Wish us happiness, father. We’ve reconciled our differences." Roland extended his hand, smiling when Ally gave him hers. "We thought that was news worth sharing."

  Roland’s father smiled in satisfaction and sat back. "Took you long enough. Does this mean I might expect grandchildren sometime in the near future? Unless your brother has a by-blow tucked away somewhere, I can forget about him."

  "I think he’s in love with someone unsuitable or spoken for," Ally offered, eager to divert attention from the topic of childbirth. The subject was making her blood heat uncomfortably.

  Lord Darchours grunted. "He could wed the alewife at this point and I’d bless it. The man’s more stubborn than even you were, Roland. He’s avoided every match I’ve arranged for him and he’s too old to cane for it."

  Roland squeezed Ally’s hand and looked at her significantly. Recognizing his signal, she looked at his father and said, "I apologize, but I have another appointment. No, don’t bother standing--I know the way out. Roland, until later." She curtsied, and then strode out as if the queen herself was waiting on her.

  Lord Darchours watched her exit with an admiring gaze. "Demme, she’s turned into a fine woman. Knew she would." He gestured to the sideboard. "Fetch us some spirits, boy. We should toast the occasion."

  Roland filled their goblets with a generous portion of his father’s favorite mead and joined him in a toast. Then he moved to the window facing the street and looked out. After a moment he asked quietly, "Do you think it’s wrong for a man to keep a mistress when he has a wife?"

  His father snorted. "Your woman certainly does. I’d keep that wicked blade of hers in mind before contemplating it."