“Why Edwin, if you find it too tiresome, I can always try asking Bryce even though--”
“Edwin would be more than happy to accompany you again, Ryia.” Ulric quickly moved down the steps and flashed a smile at his wind-blown sister. “How was town?”
“Terribly busy--”
“And more like a burning furnace, if you ask me,” Edwin said, shrugging out of his coat. “I’d fully expected it to rain this afternoon.”
“Edwin is a terrible traveler, is all,” Lady Ryia said, waving a playful hand in his direction. “Took us the quickest ten minutes I could ever remember and the people are downright joyous. To think I was worried about them still hating me after all these years.”
Ulric shook his head. “They never hated you, sister. It is I that they loathe. So do relax yourself. How about you ring for some refreshments while I borrow Edwin for a few minutes, mm?”
Lady Ryia looked between the two men and rolled her eyes. “I know quite well when I am being dismissed, brother, so no need for the smiles and good manners. We all know you are not very good at them.” She turned on her dainty little feet, nose in the air. “I shall need to speak with you sometime, though. Preferably before dinner.”
“I refuse to take that woman on another blasted maid hunt.” At least Edwin had the decency to wait until that woman was out of earshot to say such.
Grinning, Ulric patted him on the shoulder. “Thought you’d have fun.”
Edwin scowled and shrugged off his arm. “I’m happy to see you find this amusing.”
“Hardly. But I need to speak to you on a serious matter. In private.”
Brow arched, his friend paused in his tracks. “How serious?”
“Let’s go for a ride, shall we?”
* * *
The meadows enveloping the eastern borders of the estate gave a wondrous scenery of lush vegetation, and the infamous ruins of the very first primary house of Chastelle’s lordship. The structure, that was built some century earlier, was believed to have been set on fire by a allegedly wronged serfman desperate for revenge. Luckily, no one had faced the tragic demise a fire was known to bring and Chastelle’s heir had survived to make the estate what it was today, thriving in wealth and prosperity.
“It’s been a while since we’ve come here.” Edwin shifted on his mount, a black gelding he’d favored for years.
Running a staying palm along his dapple-gray stallion’s neck, Ulric nodded absently, taking in the cool fresh air. “It certainly brings back memories, does it not?”
“I suppose. But I wonder why you brought us all the way out here now. Is the matter we are to discuss so serious then?”
“Not entirely.” Hands tightening on the reins, he guided the horse a few paces towards a nearby tree and dismounted. He then waited for Edwin to follow suit before continuing. “I placed the girl in the Odessa Room.”
“Whatever for?”
“I went to the gaol shortly after you left and found her out cold on the floor.”
His friend came up before him and sighed. “What do you intend to do with her?”
“Well her fever has departed, for one. I left the guard and a kitchen girl in the chamber to look after her.”
“This is absolute madness. You are aware of that, aren’t you? Your sister in staying in the same house. She could easily stumble upon her.”
“I can handle Ryia.”
“Can you? I spent only a few hours with her today and I assure you, she is definitely changed. I doubt she cares anymore about those ‘rules’ you’ve created years ago.”
Ulric frowned, the heavy breeze batting against his face. “I cannot take her to the gallows now.”
“I hardly thought you would have--”
“And I cannot keep her in the gaol either.”
“I really do not think keeping her in the Odessa Room is sensible--”
“Which is where you come in.”
Edwin gaped. “Me?”
“Yes. I believe you are right about Ryia. She has grown far more prudent and I think that is owed to an underlying curiosity that I wish she had not developed. The girl will recover soon and by then I doubt the Odessa Room will be able to contain her.”
“What do you suggest then? You said so yourself, she’s just a thieving wench. She’d never pass for anything else.”
“She doesn’t have to. It’ll work out just fine. Ryia will be leaving in a week’s time and by then I fully intend on getting rid of the wench.”
Edwin’s eyes narrowed on his friend as an idea came to him. Before giving it much thought, the words sprung from his lips in rapid succession. “Ryia is in dire need of a lady’s maid.”
Ulric shook his head. “That would never work. The girl is starved, not in loss of her memory. I doubt she’d be convinced to pretend to be a maid until my sister leaves.”
Edwin grinned and gave his friend a slap on the back. “Now that part, I can handle.”
“How so?”
“Persuasion, Ulric. I’m sure there’s something she wants.”
“To rob me blind, that’s what.”
“Mayhap you should ask her.”
“Or mayhap, you should.” Ulric turned away and shook his head. “The last time I attempted conversation with the girl, I was tempted to snap her pretty little neck. She’s positively irritating, I tell you.”
“Pretty little neck?”
Ulric’s frown deepened as he turned, noticing a mocking grin on his friend’s face. A clenched fist could easily rectify that but he figured the last thing either of them needed was bruised faces, and an interrogation by his beloved sister. “Just do what you need to do, Edwin.”
“Of course.” Edwin reached for the reins on his gelding, the mirth bubbling in his voice. “I wouldn’t want you to have to wring that pretty little neck, lest you wish to see that pretty little neck again.”
“Sod off, will you?” Ulric shook his head at Edwin’s jesting and mounted his horse. “I need to go re-pen a few entries before I’m to face Ryia again. God knows what she wants to talk about now.”
“Good luck with that. I should warn you...” Edwin hooked his foot into the stirrup and reached up, taking his seat across the saddle. The corners of his mouth trembled with impending laughter. “Your dear sister has also become quite the talker.”
Six
“There...” Miss Darcott traced cool drops of scented liquid along Audelia’s neck and smiled. “All done now. Madame de Lucci shall soon be in to see you.”
“What is this place?” The question had come out of mere curiosity, as she turned to appraise the richly furnished room. Everything looked regal, from the finely crafted armchairs to the masterly sculpted bed, covered in the most exceptional sheets she had ever seen.
The woman whom she had known to be mostly tense in nature, pivoted around the room with a broad smile on her round face. “Remarkable, isn’t it?” She even bent to sniff on a bountiful bouquet and sighed dreamily.“This is Dextrem House, child. A truly prestigious place and you ought to be honored to be invited here.”
Audelia smiled, gaze still sweeping the room and thoroughly enthralled with its beauty. “But...why me? I do not know Lord Dextrem or his wife, and I hardly can believe they are familiar with me in any way.”
Miss Darcott shook her head. “Do not concern yourself with such irrelevant things. What matters is that a very wealthy family has found interest in you and has offered to be your benefactor.”
“My benefactor?”
“Precisely. They wish you to be....their ward.” Miss Darcott had approached her then, planting firm hands on Audelia’s shoulders as she made to reassure her. “You understand that, do you not?”
“Of course. It is a rare privilege, I presume, for a person of my stature.” Audelia grinned and blinked away the surface of tears that threatened to well up in her eyes. “I sure am fortunate to catch their eye, am I?”
“That you are, dear. That you are.” Such reassuring hands then made their wa
y slowly to Audelia’s cheeks as Miss Darcott cupped them, much as Audelia had imagined a mother would to a beloved child. “But you must understand that nothing comes totally free and you must be well behaved, correct?”
“Of-of course.”
“Perfect. So you must make the Madame proud, Audelia Rolfen.” Miss Darcott squeezed her hand affectionately. “She works very hard, you see, to pair you girls with the best of benefactors. Therefore you ought to make an example of this opportunity. The rest of the girls’ futures may well rest upon it...”
Audelia’s eyes blinked open, her vision a bit hazy as she welcomed the bitter taste in her mouth and the prickly sensations irritating her throat. Thirst was something she’d become a master at ignoring over the past year, especially with water hardly in her reach. But now, she scarcely felt as if she could manage to bear it. While she’d managed to live through such terrible conditions of life, she supposed no one really deserved to do so. If only she could get a bite of...
Shifting her legs, she made an attempt to move, her vision now steady as she stared up at a high wide ceiling. Stilling instantly, she frowned as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. Either she was lying on the softest bed she had ever felt or she was dead and floating off to the Heavens. Audelia was more prepared to accept the latter for no one, on first glance of her, would allow such fine hospitality. Especially someone with a fine bed as this one.
And if her memory served to be correct, she was still locked away in a gaol, and far away from daylight. Perhaps the guv had managed to hang her in her sleep and that would then make her very much dead.
But apparently, she was very much alive. Audelia hadn’t pinched herself or closed her eyes and then counted to ten. What convinced her was the presence of the barbaric looking guard, the one she knew to stand at her cell door, and a petite servant girl both hovering near her. The guard spoke first in a brisk tone.
“Go get Lord St. Rosso,” he said to the girl, who did as she was told. Audelia watched the man move closer until his knees were touching the side of the bed. “Have any rocks under those sheets with you, wench?”
She glared up at the man. “I hardly think I’d confess such a thing even if did.”
Her gaze swept past the giant and towards a small table, where a water-jug sat next to a quite tempting preparation of loaf and meat. Her mouth watered just knowing that she was within its direct vicinity. The guard seemed to have picked up on her gaze because he shifted to block her view.
“Lord Ulric had it brought in for you to eat whenever you were to wake.”
She eyed the guard carefully. “He’s feeding me?”
“Exactly that.”
Now she was just downright baffled. “And you expect me to believe that it isn’t poisoned or something of the sort? Why should I expect your precious lord to care now for my well-being when in the last day he hasn’t offered me much as a drop of water?”
“I’ve asked myself the same question countless times.” He turned from her and went to position himself nearer to the door. “I am only doing my duty.”
A soft knock came on the door and Audelia swallowed tightly. It must be the Lord St. Rosso, himself. Easing quickly out of the bed, despite her fatigued limbs, she moved to stand in the far corner of the exquisite room. As much as she found the bed comfortable and far from anything she could remember, the last thing she wanted was for the guv to see her enjoying his luxurious hospitality.
But instead of the formidable dark-haired guv she’d remembered, in walked a god with rich golden hair and a pleasing countenance. Audelia somehow expected civility from this one.
“Ah, she’s awaken,” the man said, nodding to the guard and then at her. “My name is Edwin Montagu, your voluntary companion for the time being.”
Oh, so he was Edwin. “What do you want?”
“Just a word with you.” He turned to say something softly to the guard, who left the room momentarily. “Shall we?”
Eyes trained on the man, Audelia remained where she was, watching intently as he surveyed the room with a reflective light in his eyes. If she would allow herself just a moment’s observation, she might have found it stunning too. But she had to remain alert lest she get caught up in this farce. There was no way she could trust these men. What she must consider is finding a way to escape the place at the soonest opportunity.
“And where is your Lord St. Rosso?”
“Running errands, I believe.” He paused to look at the food tray. “I suppose you’d be terribly hungry after such a spell.”
“I am in no need of your hospitality.” Audelia dragged her gaze from the tray and glared. “Am I to be hanged now?”
Edwin chuckled but his brows were knitted with slight concern. “You are quite eager to die, aren’t you?”
“I’m quite eager to leave and if death is the only way, sir, then so be it.”
“You know...” Edwin walked slowly across the room, stopped at the window near the bed and stared out a moment before facing her again. “For some reason, you strike me as the type of wench who knows how to make a good bargain.”
What was he saying? Audelia took one careful step backwards. “I might be a thief but I’m no whore.”
His brow arched only a moment, slight surprise crossing his features. “Of course not. The bargain I speak of is far closer along the lines of morality, I assure you. And I have a great feeling that you will be interested.”
A tingling sensation at the back of her head told Audelia that she was in for quite a treat. A treat that might come back to nip her in the arse.
* * *
“The town air is quite refreshing.” Lady Ryia spoke between slow sips of her tea. Tucking a bite-sized piece of loaf in her mouth, she chewed slowly. “Am I correct to doubt you would know anything of that, Bryce?”
Ulric straightened from where he was leaning against the closed door. He had fully intended on returning to his study to address the dealings of his journal when his sister had accosted him and dragged him to this room.
“I must admit that I don’t visit the town regularly.”
Glancing occasionally around the room, he was almost surprised at how unfamiliar it all seemed. It was the very same sitting room that their dear mother, Lady Katarin, had often used to entertain her many guests. It was also in this sitting room that the Baron Hyslop had declared his intentions towards Ryia and made their betrothal official. It was a room of many memories.
Lady Ryia smoothed her teal skirts over her knees and took another sip. “Whyever not?”
“Why does this surprise you when you, yourself, has declared how much of a recluse I am?”
“Hope, dear brother. It has much to do with hope.”
Ulric marched past her and took a seat across the room much nearer to the fireplace. The last thing he wanted was to sit here and have a spar with his little sister. He needed to get back to the Odessa Room and see about that girl keeping her mouth shut and enforcing her cooperation. At least, until Ryia was to return home.
“Do not waste your time hoping for me, Ryia. You have a family with whom to occupy your thoughts now.”
This somehow brought a smile to his sister’s face. A smile that he hadn’t seen since the day he had resigned to accept the baron’s offer for her hand. It was a pleasing feeling that he was quite content with embracing silently.
“My Merek is a good man, Bryce,” she was saying. “He’s fully retired from service now, if you must know.”
“I believe the baron is but seven and twenty?”
“Yes. Only a year your junior but a very good man, you see.” Ryia carefully placed her mug down and smiled again, this time a staying one that fully transformed her stunning features with radiance. “He’s already acquired all the land he’s ever needed and we live quite comfortably over there in Harlbrook.”
Ulric nodded. “I can see you’re quite content with the life you have secured.”
Rising from her seat, his sister took a few paces aroun
d the room and pausing occasionally to behold some portraits on the walls. Their mother had been a lover of fine paintings.
“Not just quite content, Bryce. Very much so.” She turned on the tiny heels of her slippers and walked towards him. “And how are you?”
“Me?” Ulric frowned, not sure he liked where the conversation was suddenly heading. “I am content myself.”
Ryia laughed. Actually, laughed and reclined her head, eyes narrowing as she studied him. “Mother had always envisioned you happily wed to a beautiful maiden.”
“Mother had always been an optimist.”
“Father, too.”
Now feeling uncomfortable with such form of dialogue, Ulric jumped to his feet and walked to the other side of the room. “Are we to discuss something else but my very slim prospects of marrying?”
“Speaking of that, I did run into some interesting maidens in town,” she continued regardless. “Agnete Galtran; do you remember her? She’s the daughter of Vicar Galtran.”
Ulric gritted his teeth. “I do remember the wench rather clearly,” he confessed. “She’s as boring as a rock and knows little of anything other than her father’s dreaded sermons. Let us both agree, Ryia, that if I am to ever take a bride, she would not be the daughter of a vicar.”
Ryia chuckled. “Is the daughter of a vicar too...virtuous for you, brother?”
“Am I to believe that you find irritating me, amusing?”
“Believe whatever you wish but one day I shall enjoy seeing you trapped in the wonderful spasms of love and devotion.”
The deep rumbles of a chortle escaped its way pass his lips. “The day that happens, I give you full permission to run me through with a blade. And I am sure you would find great joy in doing so.”
“Whatever you may think, Bryce, I do not dislike you.” Moving quickly, she reached out and touched him tentatively on the shoulder. “You are my brother, my only sibling, and I love you dearly. My wish is only to see you happy.”
Coins and Daggers Page 4