Shades of Truth (The Summerlynn Secrets)

by C. L. Stockton

  The music ended. We stopped. I lifted my suddenly heavy head to look into his eyes. His were cloudy, a mix of so many emotions I could not begin to identify them all. Gentle now, Sorin carefully put me from him and left the room.

  My astonishment was mirrored on the faces of those around me. They’d gathered to applaud our seamless dance, and now weren’t quite certain what to do. I wasn’t either, but I couldn’t very well stand in the middle of the dance floor for the rest of my life.

  A man suddenly broke through the crowd. I recognized him as Lord Colin Liberty.

  “Excellent. You have saved me the trouble of seeking you out for our dance, Miss Summerlynn.” Vaguely, I became aware the orchestra had begun a new song. I took Liberty’s hands and we began dancing.

  It took two circuits of the dance floor to arrange my thoughts. Liberty recognized the instant I regained control of myself. “Have you come to explain your comment about my pendant?”

  “Not exactly. I have come to invite you to our island for a long overdue chat.”

  It took a moment for the words to sink in. “You’re a Tallon.”

  “Guilty.” He smiled, a strangely engaging smile for such an aloof man. “I am acquainted with your father.”

  “Then you know what he was working on when he was killed!” My fingers clutched at his shoulder and not entirely due to the turn we whisked through. “Tell me.”

  “If you want to know, you must come to the island.”

  “I have heard that before.” Now that I knew the location indicated by the map, I had no need to go to the island. If all the secrets were in one place, if my father’s work was related, it would be among them.

  A faint smile touched his lips. “You know.” It wasn’t a question.

  I nodded. Liberty waited until we completed the rather complicated rowing motion the dance required to say, “Have you told anyone?”

  “Sorin,” his name escaped on a whisper.

  “Ah. I wondered at the little scene earlier.” His brows lowered. “It is important you leave. There are those who want what’s secret to remain hidden as badly as those who would reveal everything.”

  It was my turn to frown. “Why should I trust you?”

  “You shouldn’t.” He shrugged, which was difficult when dancing. “But I am more trustworthy than the Norths.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Ask Prince Sorin where your father is.”

  “My father is dead.”

  “Is that what he told you?” Liberty shook his head. I heard the closing strains of the dance. “I hope you are not always so gullible.” With a final flourish, we parted, Lord Liberty to his next partner, and me to mine. I wished confusion was as easily left behind.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Miss Summerlynn, a letter for you.” An exquisite silver tray was placed level with my eyes so I would see the crisp white letter on it. I wasn’t offended as my position made it rather difficult to receive a letter. Currently, I perched in the window seat of the back drawing room, idly watching the wind stir the leaves.

  I’d picked this place for the unlikelihood of being disturbed. Obviously I was wrong in thinking anything in the palace went unnoticed.

  “Thank you, Cedric.” I smiled. Inwardly, I wished he’d take himself off. My solitude had been disrupted and I didn’t like it.

  Not that I’d really accomplished anything. I just stared. Thoughts of Sorin, Lord Liberty, secrets and this entire mess floated around my brain. I liked to imagine them ramming each other out of the way in a fight for my undivided attention. So far, there was no clear winner.

  Cedric quietly left the room and I looked down at the familiar looking letter in my hand. There was something about the paper, the cream color, the smooth texture beneath my fingers, which reminded me of something…

  Slitting the seal, I flipped the letter over to examine the bottom right corner. The Summerlynn crest stared back at me.

  I dropped the letter into my lap. This letter was written on my father’s personal stationary.

  Forcing my heart to slow down, I told myself simply because a letter showed up on familiar stationary did not mean my father lived. There was any number of explanations as to why a letter on my father’s stationary came to be in my possession. Anyone could have borrowed a piece of stationary or stolen the stack from my father’s study. Our house had most likely been ransacked by an angry mob, though I couldn’t imagine paper being high on their list of valuables.

  Fingers trembling, I turned the letter over. The handwriting was easily recognizable.

  Cadrian,

  Time is short. Come quickly. Tell no one.

  Father

  My father was alive.

  Of course I would go to him. But where was here? He only said to come quickly. Did he mean to the island, as Liberty initially suggested, or the place on the map? The letter was undated, meaning it could be days, or even weeks old. How did he know where I was? Was he nearby? Perhaps in Crutten?

  Oh, right. I had been spending quite a lot of time with the royal family of Goran. News like that traveled fast in newspapers and though word of mouth. My father probably even knew what color gown I wore at the moment.

  This letter coupled with Liberty’s comment last night meant there was a strong possibility my father was alive. While my heart lightened, it also tightened because Sorin lied again. Or not. I cautioned myself not to be so quick to believe the worst of Sorin. The comment may have been made to separate me from the protection of the Norths.

  My head was spinning. What if the letter was a fake designed to force my hand on the pendant? I hadn’t reacted to the news of my parents’ deaths very well, and the author could very well know I would leap at any evidence for my father’s continued existence. Whoever sent it might be watching my next moves, hoping I’d reveal whether I knew anything of value.

  I couldn’t trust anyone. Not the Tallons, or the Norths, or even my father. I was surrounded by people with hidden agendas. Until I knew what was going on, I would keep my own counsel. That meant leaving for the X on the map and telling no one.

  Yes, I knew it was wrong to set off for Bolien alone, especially when it came to navigating the Galeon Pass, but what choice did I have? My gut told me I should find whatever it was to be found on the map. I couldn’t believe the letter. My father was dead. If I thought otherwise and was wrong, I would have a second breakdown.

  Besides, I held the map and the pendant. Sabean implied the two must be combined for the secrets to be found. I didn’t pretend to understand anything. But I must bring the two together to see what happened.

  With preparations to be made, I refolded the letter and prepared to stand. The opening door caused me to abruptly turn, shoving the letter into the pocket of my light blue morning dress. I hoped whomever it was wouldn’t too closely examine the slight bulge pulling the fabric along my side.

  “Cedric told me I would find you here.” The chocolate texture of Sorin’s voice poured over my spine. Accordingly, my muscles tightened. If anyone would notice the letter in my pocket, it would be him.

  “The secret’s out, then.” Casually, I prepared to stand. If I spent any length of time with Sorin, he would be able to determine something bothered me and was tenacious enough to make me tell him.

  “Please. Stay.” He lifted a hand in my direction. Dressed in grey riding breeches, tall black boots and black coat, Sorin appeared every woman’s fantasy of a hero come to ride her off into the sunset. Of course, I’d experienced that and found it not quite as the storybooks had it.

  “As I am currently not speaking to you, there is no reason to stay.” Once I mentioned my anger, I felt a fresh surge of it. Not only had he left me on the dance floor in front of three hundred of his parents’ friends, he had the audacity to flirt with an old love in front of me.

  Not his best night.

  Sorin closed the door behind him. “Not quite the reaction I expected.” He lifted an eyebrow at me. “What h
as you in a temper?”

  Had he fallen from his horse this morning? Onto his head?

  “Making faces does not help matters.”

  Unaware I’d been scowling, I smoothed my features into blankness.

  “Sulking is for two year olds.”

  I locked my jaw around the words I wanted to say. Instead I arched my eyebrows at him. A faint annoyance lengthened the normal curve of his bottom lip into a firm line. It was rather amusing irritating Sorin with my refusal to speak.

  “If you expect an apology for our dance last night, do not hold your breath.” Now thoroughly annoyed, Sorin’s eyes were navy, his jaw set. “That was quite the best dance of my life.”

  When I felt my anger dissipate, I reminded myself of Lady Constance. An image of the two of them, so perfect and beautiful, sprang to mind. Her delicate beauty, only enhanced by the perfect peaches and cream of her complexion, had drawn Sorin like a magnet. How close he’d leaned, his eyes lingering on exactly what Lady Constance wanted noticed.

  Apparently this was quite acceptable behavior in front of the woman one recently proposed marriage to.

  I lifted my eyes heavenward. At this rate, I would be trapped in the drawing room for ages while Sorin attempted to figure out why I was upset. Then I’d have to draw a diagram for him. Men were so dense. “Lady Constance.”

  “Yes?” There wasn’t an unnatural pause or anything else about his reply to catch my attention. He sounded completely normal.

  “You seemed very pleased to see her.”

  “It has been a long time since I saw her.” I made a noise of disgust in my throat. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “For the woman you nearly married, she is quite beautiful.”

  He sighed. “Who told you?”

  “Rob.”

  “Remind me to kill him.”

  “It is not his fault you collect fiancés.”

  “For a woman who refused to become one, you are quite concerned with the old one.” A self-satisfied smirk spread across his face. “You’re jealous.”

  “I’m not.” I folded my arms across my chest, feeling the pendant shift within my bodice.

  “I thought you were through lying.”

  “I’m not lying! I could care less if you decide to elope with Lady Constance!” All right. That was going a bit too far.

  “Excellent. Then you shall have no problem knowing I just returned from riding to see her.”

  A brutal slash of pain hit my heart. My breathing stalled momentarily, but I managed to keep everything except a quick grimace off my face. “Lovely. May I be the first to wish you every happiness?”

  He frowned. “Cadrian, do you think so little of me that I would propose to one woman the day after I proposed to another?”

  Desperate to salvage some of my pride, I said, “It hardly matters. I will be gone before long.”

  Sorin took a step closer to where I stood. “Would you stay if I told you Lady Constance is nothing to me?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Then consider the subject of Lady Constance closed.” His voice hardened.

  “Very well. I shall not trouble you further.”

  Settling himself on the sofa, Sorin spread his arms along the back of it. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”

  “I refuse to discuss Lady Constance.” I sat back down in the window seat. Nothing could entice me to move and sit beside him. Sorin had ways of persuading me from an already decided course of action.

  “Actually, I already closed that subject. Word has reached me of a possible sighting of your father near Sal de Mar.”

  “What?” I didn’t have to fake my astonishment. Did Sorin know about the letter? Having closely watched my reaction, he continued, “We are not certain it is he.”

  “Then why tell me?”

  “To see if he has attempted to contact you.”

  “Why would he contact me?”

  “Besides the obvious fact you are his daughter, you have something he wants very badly.”

  “Which is?” I had a few ideas, but wanted confirmation before I committed to anything.

  “His pendant.” Sorin’s blue eyes dropped to the top half of the pendant visible above the neckline of my dress. I had taken to wearing it, not knowing when I’d be presented with the opportunity to leave.

  “I thought it was my pendant.” Protectively, I placed my hand over it.

  “May I?” Beckoning me over, I, the fool, unhooked the pendant and walked to give it to him.

  Tilting it this way and that, angling it toward and away from the sun, Sorin examined it. His thumb traced the indentions of the icon, before giving it a push so it spun on the chain. As I watched the spinning pendant, something clicked in my brain. I had seen something that reminded me in the angle the pendant dangled.

  I gasped.

  “What is it?” Alarmed, Sorin reached for my arm, his eyes searching my face.

  “It’s a key.” I sank onto the sofa beside him, burying my face in my hands. I was only allowed that luxury for a minute, because I knew Sorin expected an explanation. “Or more accurately, a key mold.” Which is why my father told me the pendant unlocked the secrets.

  “Explain.”

  “It would be easier to show you.” Sorin extended the pendant toward me, but I was already waiting at the door, impatiently tapping my foot. “Well? Are you coming?”

  He joined me. Forced to look upward to meet his eyes, I didn’t smile. “Though I have most probably already seen whatever it is you want to show me, I am yours to command.” His eyes swept downward over my body.

  I was not in the mood for flirtation. “Can you not be serious for even a moment?”

  “You have enough seriousness for the both of us.” Still holding the pendant, he brushed it gently against my cheek. “Stop worrying, sweetheart. Everything will be fine.”

  I stepped through the doorway and briskly walked down the hallway toward the stairs. If I remembered correctly, the portrait gallery was on the second floor and stretched the entire length of the middle wing of the palace.

  Though I heard Sorin behind me, I didn’t slow. I marched all the way to the portrait gallery, not stopping until I reached the painting of King Richard. The scene was the same. Sitting upright on his throne, the grey eyes stared off in the distance, a haughty look on the coldly arranged North features.

  “I had no idea you liked my father so much you wish to stare at his painting.” Sorin’s voice startled my concentration.

  “It is not your father who interests me.” Stepping closer, I focused my gaze on one of the two men pictured behind the king. The one that interested me was the younger, shorter of the two. Though his face was shadowed, a wealth of reddish gold hair hung below his collar as he stood at attention behind the throne. At his waist hung two objects: a flagon, and a set of keys.

  Finding what I sought, I pointed, not daring to touch the actual paint. I imagined I could be killed for such an affront. “There.” From the key ring, a strikingly familiar key hung.

  Sorin came forward, his eyes dropping to the man’s waist. He leaned over, shoulder brushing mine. I inhaled his cologne and wondered if I could simply press him against the wall and kiss him until we both forgot all about the pendant. “What am I looking for?” His question reminded me we weren’t here for amorous purposes.

  “Look at the key.” On the painting, I indicated the prongs of a key that perfectly matched the icon on my pendant.

  Raising the pendant, he nudged me gently out of the way, leaving me to lean against the wall. He maneuvered the pendant so it hung at the same angle the key did. They matched. Finished, he turned to me with a warm glow in his sapphire eyes. “You are amazing.”

  My cheeks colored. “Only sometimes.”

  “Always.” We stared at each other for a breathless moment. I was positive he would lean over to kiss me, and was disappointed when he tore his gaze away to look again at the painting. “When did you even see this painting?
”

  “Rob took me on a tour the day of my wardrobe fitting. I remember thinking there was something familiar about this painting but couldn’t place it then. It wasn’t until you spun the pendant that something clicked in my brain.” Unable to keep meeting the admiration evident in Sorin’s gaze, I looked back to the painting. “Who are those men?”

  “I cannot be certain. Father must know, but I hesitate to tell him about the key.” At my inquiring look, he explained, “With the way things are going, I’d prefer to keep certain information secret.” I wondered what happened to make Sorin suspicious of his own father.

  “For now, let’s keep this between ourselves.” I looked at his perfect features, thinking about every other private moment I wished to keep with Sorin. “Do we know what it unlocks?”

  “I am not entirely sure.” His gaze skittered from mine, returning to the portrait. He really meant to keep me in the dark after I’d gone to all the trouble to tell him about the pendant! He wouldn’t even know it was a key if not for me!

  He was not going to escape so easily this time. Reaching for him, I said, “Sorin, darling, I must tell you something.”

  His head came around. “Did you call me darling?” He didn’t fight my grip on his arm pulling him against me and away from the painting. Encircling his waist, I grabbed handfuls of his shirt. Sorin was not going anywhere at the moment.

  “Did you like it?” Feeling a little breathless from the shockingly intimate feel of his chest against mine, the words were less confident than I hoped.

  His eyes closed briefly. “Too much.” One of his hands cupped my shoulder. The other nudged my chin upwards to more fully look into my eyes. “What is it you wish to tell me?”

  Blankly, I stared at him. His closeness frayed my ability to marshal my thoughts. Well, any thoughts not involving kissing him, which, admittedly, were few at the moment.

  “You said you wished to tell me something.” Humor turned the corners of his mouth upward. “Or have you forgotten already?”

  “I haven’t forgotten.” My thumb stroked a circle against his spine. “If you know anything about the key, or even suspect something, you must tell me.”