Gillian's eyes were bleak. “Has someone asked for my hand?"
Taken aback by the unexpected question, Elga could do no more than stare. She opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut. She shook her head to clear away the confusion.
“Are you sure?” Gillian pleaded for denial.
“Aye, I am sure,” Elga managed to say. “I would certainly know had someone sought the Jarl out for such a request."
Gillian's shoulders fell beneath the weight of her own confusion; she searched her lap for answers. “Then what is this all about?"
Elga stood up, eased her hands from Gillian's forceful grip then pulled a chair up beside the girl's. “Tell me,” she ordered.
The young woman's bottom lip was caught between her teeth as she sat there. There were two bright spots of color on her otherwise ashen face and the pulse in her slender neck was drumming against the porcelain skin. Elga put a comforting hand on her stepdaughter's shoulder.
“You must tell me what has upset you so."
Gillian looked up, guilt blazing now in her green gaze. She studied her stepmother's kindly face for a moment, then dropped her eyes. “It concerns Prince Kaelan."
Elga almost hissed with exasperation; she knew that much. Why else would the girl be in such a dither? “What of him, dearling?” she forced herself to ask in a motherly tone.
“I know you told me not to see him...” Gillian's voice trailed off as she plucked at a loose thread on her sleeve.
“Aye,” Elga agreed. “And I told you why: the man is too old for you."
Gillian lifted her head and looked fiercely at Elga. “There is less age difference between he and I than there is between you and Papa."
Elga nodded. “True, but that is different.” When her stepdaughter would have argued, she held up a staying hand. “Your Papa and I were both widowed. I had been married ten years to my husband-the gods be good to him-and was no untried girl who knows nothing of the brutish ways of men."
Gillian could have argued that Elga knew more about men than most women ever would, but she held her tongue. Her stepmother's reputation was not the issue here.
When the girl didn't speak, Elga reached out to lift her chin so she could look into her stepdaughter's face. “I take it you've been seeing him anyway,” she said in a clipped voice.
“I love him,” Gillian replied with a hitching sob.
Elga sighed heavily. “And I suppose he has told you he loves you, as well?"
“Aye,” Gillian confessed.
There was a sad shake of Elga's lovely head. “They all say that, Gillian."
“It's true!” her stepdaughter cried. “I know t'is, else why would he want to...?” she stopped, catching her lip once more between her teeth.
“Why else what?” Elga said, squinting. “You'd best tell me the whole of it."
Gillian felt the tears clouding her vision. One single salty drop fell down her cheek and she reached up to bat it away. “I promised him I would not speak of it."
Elga folded her hands in her lap. “Let me see if I can guess what it is that is occurring here,” she said on a long breath. “He has asked you to run away with him, is that it?"
The young woman looked up sharply. “How did you know?” she gasped.
Striving to keep the triumph from her red lips, Elga schooled her face to a careful sadness. “My dear child,” she said in a heavy tone of sympathy, “such happens all the time. She sat forward, took Gillian's hands in her own and brought the girl's knuckles to her lips where she planted a soft kiss, then gave her stepdaughter a sad smile. “You say he loves you, but has he given any care to your reputation?"
“W ... what do you mean?” Gillian asked.
“Why, dearling,” Elga said with slight annoyance, “if he truly loved you, he would not be asking you to run away with him in the middle of the night.” She narrowed her gaze. “I take it this will happen tonight?"
The older woman had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing aloud. “And he instructed you not to tell anyone, am I right?"
Gillian's hand flew to her mouth and her stare filled with guilt. She would have spoken, but her stepmother laid a restrictive finger over her lips.
“Nay, it is of no matter. I won't tell anyone,” Elga lied. “But I would have you think, Gillian."
“Think?” the girl echoed.
Elga cocked her head to one side. “If he loves you as much as he vows, why has he not come to your father or, for that matter, to the Jarl to ask for your hand?"
The younger woman blinked. She had not thought of that. Why were they running away? Why had he not made his wishes known to his brother, the Jarl? Why leave in secrecy? Telling no one?
Dakin's wife saw the wheels turning in her stepdaughter's head and almost smiled. Elga knew she had put doubts there; she could see them forming behind those vivid green eyes. Thinking quickly, she drew from her vast array of deceitful tricks to firm up those doubts.
“Gillian,” she said, getting up and starting to pace, “I have held my tongue concerning Kaelan Hesar for I know how infatuated you are with him, but I think now is as good a time as any to tell you something about him you may not know."
“What do you mean?” Gillian asked. She watched her stepmother pacing before the sweep of windows that overlooked the garden of Tempest Keep.
“I have debated this for quite some time,” Elga said, as though the girl hadn't spoken. “I do not like to spread gossip and I was afraid you would think less of me if I told you what I personally knew of the prince.” She turned and fixed her young ward with a look of misery.
“He and I were ... close ... once.” She saw the shock pass over her stepdaughter's face. “He told me things he would not tell others."
Elga's blush came on cue. “The affair lasted for two years."
Kaelan had slept with this woman? Gillian gasped. Surely not. She would not believe it of him. Her face said as much.
“Has he shown you how well he kisses, dearling?” Elga inquired, knowing almost for a certainty that Kaelan had been the only man to kiss the girl and banking on Gillian not having discussed such things with her sisters. “Has he shown you how adept he is at using his tongue to imitate the act of sex?"
Gillian's sharp intake of breath told Elga all she needed to know. She drove the stake deeper in her stepdaughter's heart: “I've been kissed many times, but no man has ever done that to me save him."
She lowered her gaze as though in embarrassment. “Though I've heard other women saying the same thing about Kaelan Hesar."
The young girl stood up, her entire body trembling. What if Kaelan had made love to the woman? What did it prove except that Elga Junstrom Cree was the whore Gillian had once named her to Kaelan. Had he denied it that night? He had not! She lifted her chin and fused her gaze with Elga's. “That is in the past."
“Aye,” Elga agreed, wanting to shake the stupid chit. “And I did not mean to infer our relationship had continued. I told you of the affair simply to have you understand I know the man well. Intimately well.” Before Gillian could defend her love again, Elga went to her and took her by the shoulders.
“You must know all of it, though, before you make up your mind to meet with him this eve!” She pushed Gillian down in the chair again and sat in front of her, her attitude one of breathless haste. “You know, of course, about the missing money?"
Gillian's brows came together. “Money?” she repeated.
“Aye,” Elga said, waving a dismissive hand. “The money that was taken from the Depository.” She locked eyes with Gillian. “No doubt you heard there was a depletion of funds due to the floods last summer."
“Aye. What has that to do with Kaelan?""
“Duncan thought it best the Court be given that lie rather than the truth,” Elga went on, spinning a tale that was rapidly forming in her devious mind, and did not give the girl a chance to speak. “The Master Treasurer knows, of course; he was the one who brought the perfidy to Dunca
n's attention. Neither of them wanted to see Kaelan imprisoned for the crime."
“Crime?!” Gillian gasped.
“Of course, if the money can be replaced before the Tribunal's next audit,” Elga stressed, “there will be no question of Kaelan being brought to trial."
Gillian jumped up from the chair. “Kaelan is no thief!"
“I did not say he was!” Elga told her. “I merely tell you what has happened and that Kaelan is the one who has been blamed."
“He is no thief,” Gillian repeated. She pushed her stepmother out of her way and headed for the door.
“Don't you see how his running away will look, though, Gillian?” Elga called after her. “It will make him appear guilty."
“I don't care!” Gillian shouted. She yanked open the door and fled, headlong rush; was mindless of heads bending together in mumbled whisperings as she reached the prince's door and pounded on it.
“Kaelan!” she shouted, her fist striking the door with enough force to bruise her flesh. “Kaelan!!"
Gunter stepped out of his and Adele's chambers, the loud noise having disturbed his pregnant wife. “He's not in there, Sweeting,” he told his sister-in-law and was startled as she flew toward him, grabbing his shirt front in a vicious clasp when she reached him.
“Where is he?” Gillian hissed, yanking on his shirt.
“I have no idea,” Gunter grumbled. He put his hands up to pull hers away from his clothing. “I saw him leave with a traveling satchel not more than half an hour ago."
Satchel? The word flew through Gillian's brain. He had told her to bring nothing with her. Why was he taking a satchel?
“Has something happened?” Gunter asked. He saw people milling about in the hall, staring. “Can I be of assistance?"
“No,” Gillian snapped. She pushed away from him and ran to her chambers. The hall clock was just then chiming seven and she had to be dressed and at the meeting place on time. As she slammed the door behind her, her stepmother's words came back to haunt her: “Don't you see how his running away will look?"
Was the missing money in that satchel Gunter saw Kaelan carrying? Gillian wondered as she tore off her gown. Was that why they were leaving Tempest Keep? To escape the chance of being charged with the crime of embezzlement from the Depository? To be free of the imprisonment that would follow should he be found guilty?
Gillian stopped. “But why would he take money from the Depository in the first place?"
“I'll not let anyone tear us apart, Gillian,” he had said. “I'll never hurt you nor will I ever allow anyone else to hurt you!"
There was more to this than she'd been told, Gillian realized. But one thing was for certain: only Kaelan could provide the answers to the puzzle!
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Chapter Sixteen: Holy Dale Manor
“He was waiting just this side of the bridge,” Kaelan was saying. “I had no idea how he could have found out.” He plowed his hand through his hair. “I knew Gillian wouldn't have told anyone."
Nick got up to put another log on the fire. If anyone was to tell Kaelan how his brother had found out, it would have to be Gillian.
“I was furious when I saw him walking out of the fog toward me.” Kaelan massaged his aching thigh. “The bastard had three of his personal guards with him."
“Intent on taking you back?” Nick inquired, sitting down again.
“Which they did,” Kaelan answered heatedly. His eyes glazed with remembered bitterness. “I did my best to get away, but they were among his toughest Elite and I didn't stand a chance against them."
“Sinclair, I was holed up in the filthiest, most remote dungeon cell my brother could find for me!"
“He jailed you?” Duncan growled.
“And took great delight in doing it, too,” Kaelan snorted. “Shackles and all."
Nick's mouth dropped open. He could barely credit the evil done this man simply because Kaelan Hesar had fallen in love with a woman his brother thought inappropriate for him. That that woman was Nick's sister made the whole thing even worse to his way of thinking.
“He told me he was going to keep me there until I agreed to his plan."
A long breath escaped Nick. “We were having such a time with Gillian right about then, I don't remember much of what was happening at Court."
“Oh, Duncan gladly came down to visit me to give me all the gory details!” Kaelan hissed. “He positively quivered every time a new bidder came forward to make an offer.” The disgust in the prince's voice was sentient. “Gilbreths offered 200,000 gold pieces; the Redmonds offered 275,000. I felt like a piece of meat!"
“I remember the day Justus Sinclair came to Court, though,” Nick quipped. “One look at that precious only daughter of his and every man there went hard as a rock."
Kaelan snorted. “Aye, I can see how she would do that to a man if he didn't know her for the bitch she could be."
“How did he finally settle on Marie?” Nick asked. “I know the Redmonds outbid the Sinclair's.” He thought a moment. “The last I heard, the bidding was up to 700,000 gold pieces and Justus Sinclair was bemoaning the fact that he hadn't that much loose capitol to work with."
“That might have been true, but he had Holy Dale,” Kaelan reminded him. “His dead wife's estate."
“Ah,” Nick said. “So Duncan was given title to this mansion.” Kaelan nodded. “What were you given, then?"
The prince shrugged. “Marie."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Seventeen: The night Kaelan was jailed: Tempest Keep
The fog was thick. It wrapped Gillian in damp arms and hid her-she hoped-from the night beasties who prowled in the pearly glow. Beneath her feet, the swift water of Farthane Creek bubbled and lapped at the old wooden pilings of the bridge; the sound made her want to pee so badly her teeth ached. When the man stepped out of the fog, she nearly eased the ache in her teeth.
“Who's there?” she whispered, praying it was Kaelan although by her watch, he was nearly an hour late.
“Duncan Hesar."
The name jolted her and she took a step back from his advance. The Jarl was alone, she saw; minus the usual company of Elite who dogged his every step. But if he were here to help her and his brother, he would want no prying eyes to witness his actions. She strained to see if Kaelan was with him.
“He's not coming, dearling,” he told her as though he'd read her mind.
Gillian felt a cold chill run down her spine. “Where is he?"
Duncan's face materialized out of a patch of wafting fog and his eyes were sad. “On his way to Serenia by now, I would imagine."
Nothing he could have said would have shocked her as much. She put a hand up to her throat. “Serenia?” she questioned.
“Elga told me where you would be,” he said. He looked for all the world as if his heart were breaking. “I knew I had to be the one to come tell you."
“Tell me what?” Gillian challenged. Already she was dying inside. He had left her? Sent his brother to bid his farewell?
“As much as it pains me to tell you this, Gillian, my brother is a thief.” He let the words drop like poison into the susceptible recesses of the young woman's mind. “He took the money; spent it on his horse farm to purchase those Rysalians last summer. He had expected to sell them for a goodly price, I suppose, but when the floods hit and the animals drowned, he lost the entire investment."
That much was true. Kaelan had spent a great deal of money—albeit his own from the small inheritance he'd received from their mother's estate—on horses he'd purchased from the Ben-Alkazar family. When the flash flooding began, there had been no way to rescue the seven stallions and four mares in the far pasture; the poor animals had been swept downstream along with half of Kaelan's spring colts.
“When he realized he couldn't replace the money, he made plans to run,” Duncan sighed. “Knowing the Master Treasurer would eventually find out who had stolen the money. There are only three men wh
o have access to the Depository: the Master Treasurer, the Jarl, and the Jarl's Designee; in this case, Kaelan."
Gillian turned and stared out over the dark, swirling waters. The thought crossed her mind to jump into that black abyss for she was surely as dead at that moment as she would be when the Gatherer came to claim her.
“I know you care for him, dearling,” Duncan said sadly. “I wish he had not hurt you in this callous manner."
“I love him,” she corrected the Jarl.
Duncan went to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulder, fearful the girl was silly enough to plunge to her death in the icy waters of the Farthane. “I'm afraid there's more,” he said gently.
Gillian shook her head. “Nothing I care to hear,” she whispered. She swiped angrily at the treacherous tears that were falling from her eyes.
“I believe you should,” Duncan insisted. He turned her from the railing and held her by the shoulders. He took a deep breath and put what he hoped was the final nail in Kaelan's coffin. “He meant to ransom you back to your father once he got you to Serenia."
“No!” she shouted, jerking away from him. “That's not true!"
Duncan held a hand out to her. “Why would I lie, dearling? He needed 100,000 gold pieces to replace the money he took; your father would gladly have paid that for your safe return and Kaelan would have saved himself a possible prison sentence."
“I don't believe you!” Gillian tried to get away from him, but he held on to her. “You want to make Kaelan look bad!"
“Why would I do that, Gillian?” the Jarl asked with a sad smile. “What have I to gain from it?"
What, indeed? she wondered as she stood there-trembling and heart-sick-staring back at him with tears streaming down her face.
Duncan drove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I love my brother, milady, but I do not hold with the things he does. He sometimes acts as though there will be no consequences to his actions; for the hurt he has caused you-hurt I saw coming, I fear-I am going to make him atone."
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