Duke of Minds (Master of Monsters Book 4)

by Stephen L. Hadley

  “Fine,” he snapped. “Then what?”

  “Huh?”

  “Then what?” he repeated. “We gather more information and focus on our defenses. And then? I’m not just going to sit in my chambers and twiddle my thumbs.”

  “Somehow, I can’t imagine you just sitting around,” she said, a hint of teasing creeping into her voice. “But, no. We won’t be idle. It could be days or weeks before Grey and the others march on Ansiri. There are still plenty of noblemen who haven’t committed to either cause. We can use that time to woo them to our side.”

  Leo groaned, throwing back his head to stare drearily up at the thickening clouds.

  “Are you sure we can’t just kill them?” he asked. “Please?”

  His wife laughed, patting his chest with a gentle hand. “I’m sure,” she said. “Come now, it won’t be all that bad. And if you do a good job, I’m certain I can think of some way to reward you.”

  He rolled his eyes. But, frustrated though he was, he neither stopped nor joined Cirilla as she made her way back to Davin and Amos to explain her—their—decision. Instead, he sought Nyssa’s gaze. And, once he’d found it, he waved her over.

  “Come to my chambers later,” he whispered. He glanced over his shoulder at Cirilla. “There’s something I want to discuss with you. Alone.”

  ***

  Of all the estates in Ansiri that Leo could have found himself standing before, there was perhaps none that he dreaded more than that of Baron Ferris. Obviously, it was not the manor itself that bothered him; the two-story structure was refined, modest, and well-tended, if slightly overshadowed by the newer, more elaborate buildings surrounding it. No, the thing that filled Leo with dread was the knowledge of the man who lived there.

  “Are you sure it has to be him?” he asked, meeting Cirilla’s gaze with an almost pleading expression. “Seven hells, we could go anywhere else and I’ll not say a word!”

  “Hush,” she said. “Of course it has to be him. Ferris owns half the blacksmiths in Ansiri. Unless you want our forces armed with staves and spears, we need him on our side. Besides, he’s almost eighty! What are you worried about?”

  Leo grimaced and said nothing. It wasn’t worry that made him want to flee—not really. It was simply the knowledge that Ferris, being almost eighty, could destroy his reputation in a heartbeat if he so desired. Assuming, of course, that the elderly man remembered Leo distinctly enough to do it.

  “I’m not worried,” he lied.

  From the look she gave him, it was obvious that Cirilla saw through the falsehood. If she guessed at the source of his discontent, however, she showed no mercy. And so, grasping his arm, she led him through the gate and up the narrow, immaculately maintained path through the gardens that led to the front door.

  Aside from his audience with the late Duke Avans, it was the closest experience Leo had ever had to that of a condemned man approaching the gallows.

  It wasn’t Baron Ferris, or even one of his servants, who greeted them. Instead, it was the lord’s wife who opened the door.

  The baroness was young, even by Ansiri standard. So young, in fact, that not even her out-of-fashion dress and matronly hairstyle could disguise the fact that she was still on the early side of thirty. She was pregnant as well, though the ruffled bodice of her clothing hid that fact well.

  “Your Excellency,” the baroness exclaimed, sounding appropriately surprised though not shocked. She curtseyed, first to Leo, and then to Cirilla. “Duchess VanOrden. Please, come in! To what do we owe this honor?”

  Cirilla glanced at Leo and offered her hand, waiting until he’d taken it to follow the first of their guards inside. And, when he did not immediately reply, she squeezed his fingers.

  “Your husband, my lady,” he said. It was difficult to keep the tremor from his voice. “Forgive our visiting unannounced, but I hoped to discuss matters of state with Baron Ferris.”

  “I’m afraid my dear husband has not yet risen,” the woman said. She smiled coyly and Leo thought he could just spy a hint of pink creeping into her cheeks. “He was awake well into the night, addressing important matters.”

  Leo tried to respond and failed. Fortunately, Cirilla rescued him. And this time, he did not begrudge her assistance.

  “Naturally,” Cirilla said, so gracefully it sounded as though she’d expected such a thing. “We would never dream of denying the good baron his rest. Is there, perhaps, somewhere we might retire to await him?”

  The baroness curtseyed again and gestured to a waiting servant. The man approached and bowed deeply.

  “Felix, show Their Excellencies to the parlor and fetch some refreshments,” she instructed. “I will see to the baron.”

  Leo was quiet as the man led him and Cirilla to a side room. The floors were made of a wood so dark it was nearly black while the walls were covered with elegant, floral-patterned wallpaper flecked with gold and silver leaf. A small fire crackled in a hearth. Leo seated himself on a comfortable divan near it, partly to enjoy the warmth and partly because it allowed him to observe the doorway without turning.

  Sitting next to him, Cirilla crossed her legs and rested a hand on his knee.

  “You know,” she said softly, “I think she actually loves him.”

  He glanced at her. “The baroness?”

  “Who else?” she said, nodding. “When Ferris remarried, everyone assumed that Linnie only agreed because of his wealth and titles. But seeing her now, I can’t help but wonder…”

  “Good for her,” Leo murmured. “Either way. Whatever her motivations, she’s clearly fond of him now. That’s what really matters. Her original motivations are irrelevant.”

  Cirilla spun to face him, so swiftly it startled him. Grinning, she leaned and kissed his cheek, then settled against his shoulder. She was still resting there when a trio of servants returned a moment later with trays bearing meat, bread and jam, and several varieties of wine. The sight of them awakened Leo’s appetite, but Cirilla had not yet stirred from his shoulder, and he was reluctant to force her.

  It was not until the baroness appeared in the doorway that Cirilla straightened, but even then she grasped Leo’s hand and kept him from his breakfast.

  “Excellencies,” the baroness said. “My lord husband is awake, but it will be a moment before he joins us. Would you mind if I kept you company in his stead?”

  “Not at all,” Leo said. He started to indicate the assorted couches with his free hand, but the woman had seated herself before he even got the chance.

  “Thank you,” the baroness said. She had chosen a spot near to them, though not so close as to seem improper. “I’m afraid with the recent trouble in Ansiri, I haven’t been able to venture out as often as I am used to. My husband is wonderful, of course, but I do find myself a bit starved for company of late. Alas, I fear things may only get worse.”

  “For a time, perhaps,” Cirilla answered. Her voice was smooth and charming, but Leo could detect a strange deliberateness behind the words. “But I have every confidence that, between your husband and mine, we’ll soon see an end to it. And until then, of course, you are always welcome to visit the Ministry. We’ve naught to fear there and I, too, am equally hungry for more… refined company.”

  Subtly as he could, Leo glanced between the two women’s faces. He could tell, instinctively, that there was far more to their words than he could possibly guess. And as such, he knew better than to interfere. He closed his eyes, feigning a contented smile as he allowed the hearth to warm his back and the conversation to fade into a dull, pleasant hum.

  It remained that way for some time until an abrupt end to the conversation led his eyes to open once more. And, in a heartbeat, his smile vanished.

  Baron Ferris stood in the parlor doorway, dressed in a crisp, dated suit and leaning heavily on an ornate, silver-headed cane. A servant stood beside him, not quite supporting him, but clearly ready to intervene if the man stumbled. Not that such a thin
g appeared likely. Ferris was scowling, his eyes attentive, threateningly thin, and aimed squarely at Leo.

  “Excellency,” the aged man said, stooping against his cane in the faintest approximation of a bow. “Welcome. I’m glad to see you remembered to keep your trousers on this time.”

  Leo groaned.

  Chapter Three

  For a long moment, a stunned silence hung thick in the air. Linnie Ferris stared at her husband in shock and disbelief. Cirilla did likewise, though her expression was far more contained. Then, her eyes brimming with unspoken questions, she turned to Leo.

  “I…” Leo began. He trailed off, sighed heavily, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’d hoped you might have forgotten about that.”

  “Hardly,” Ferris grumbled. The old man staggered forward, brushing off his servant’s aid, and lowed himself with difficulty onto the first couch he saw. His wife rose swiftly. Casting a nervous, apologetic smile in Cirilla’s direction, she joined the baron’s side. “I’m old, not senile. And you’re a hard lad to forget, Leo VanOrden.”

  Cirilla cleared her throat and made as if to rise. Thinking better of it, she instead lifted her chin and grasped Leo’s hand tightly.

  “Baron Ferris,” she said, a touch coldly. “Forgive my ignorance. There seems to be some history between you and my husband of which I’m unaware. Might I ask you to explain yourself?”

  Ferris stiffened as if noticing Cirilla’s presence for the first time. At the sight of her, his gruff expression softened somewhat. He laid a hand over his heart and made another bow, one that, despite being seated, managed to seem far more earnest than the one he’d offered Leo.

  “Apologies, Duchess VanOrden,” he said. “But I’m afraid the details elude me now. Perhaps His Excellency would care to give his account?”

  Leo groaned again, grimacing as Cirilla turned to gaze at him expectantly.

  “It’s not a big deal,” he assured her. “It was years ago. I was just a boy.”

  Cirilla’s expression did not change, nor did Ferris’. And so, sighing, he continued.

  “My grandfather and Baron Ferris had a number of business deals at the time. He often brought me with him. Probably hoped that I’d learn something.”

  “For all the good it did,” Ferris muttered, not loud enough to be considered a true interruption but plenty loud enough to be heard.

  “The baron and his late wife had a daughter, Andria. She was about my age, maybe a year older? I don’t remember. Anyway, like I said, I was just a boy. We were both young and curious and so….”

  “And so Leo here decided they ought to play physician,” Ferris concluded for him. Evidently, he’d recalled the elusive details since his voice had grown from a mutter into a growl. “In the middle of the gardens. In full view of a dozen windows! Well, you can imagine what happened. Word spread among the servants. I had to send Andria to live with my brother and his family on our Westshire plantation after what this scoundrel did!”

  “After what I did?” Leo snapped. He surged to his feet, shrugging off Cirilla’s sudden, desperate effort to restrain him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. “I did what any curious, foolish boy my age would have done! You think Andria was any less curious? Any less foolish? And what of you? We didn’t lay a finger on each other! The gossip would have faded in a week had you not reacted as if I’d forced myself on her!”

  Ferris rose as well, with surprising dexterity for a man his age, and gripped his silver-headed cane as if intending to use it as a club. Beyond him, through the open door, Leo caught a glimpse of several wide-eyed servants and a few of his guards, their hands straying towards their hilted swords.

  “So, is that why you’ve come here?” the baron said. “To insult me and my family?”

  Leo ground his teeth. It would have been so easy. With a word, he could have summoned his guards. Even if the baron had tried to fight, the man would have been cut down in seconds. Nor would it have been a pointless slaughter; with the old man out of the way, he would be free to seize as many goods from the man’s stores as he pleased.

  The only cost would be his reputation. And, if Cirilla’s guess proved accurate, perhaps Ansiri as well.

  He sat.

  “No, Baron,” Leo said. “I’ve come to bargain.”

  For a long moment, Ferris said and did nothing. The man stood there, shoulders heaving. Then, slowly, his eyes narrowed. And he laughed.

  “Well then,” the man said, returning to his seat. “That’s an entirely different matter, Your Excellency.”

  Leo blinked in surprise. And, from the corner of his eye, he saw Cirilla react similarly. He’d expected it might be possible to win the man over, despite their complicated history, but he’d never imagined it would be so easy. From the moment he’d risen, he’d fully expected any potential arrangement to be lost.

  “Oh, come now, Your Excellency,” Ferris chuckled. “You don’t think a man who’s lived as long as I have succeeds by holding grudges, do you? I stand by what I said. As a boy, you were a base scoundrel. But why ever should that mean you’ll prove a poor Duke? It’s said that even Elias Ansiri courted a few controversies in his day. If you’ve an offer to make, I’ll gladly hear it. Only…” he paused, patting the woman beside him on the knee. “…perhaps you’d best close the door, love. We all know too well that servants love to gossip.”

  Leo struggled to calm his breathing as the baroness rose and did as her husband had asked. He hated feeling this way. Being baited, losing control, all of it reminded him too much of his previous conflicts. He couldn’t afford to be manipulated now.

  “So?” Ferris said, once the baroness returned to his side. “You said you wished to bargain? Let us bargain.”

  The ensuing negotiations went much as he’d anticipated. Unlike the argument that had preceded them, the talks were dry, long-winded, and meandering. To his relief, Leo found that he needed to participate very little. Cirilla handled the majority of the talking points, which was fitting given her experience managing the former Orczy business interests. And, unlike him, she proved far defter in dealing with the occasional barbs from Baron Ferris.

  The eventual agreement, jotted down onto a stack of parchment delivered by a wary-looking servant, contained so many nuances and details that Leo struggled to remember half of them. The essence of the agreement, however, proved mercifully succinct. The conscripted forces of the VanOrden army—strange though it was to see it written as such—would be fully armed and armored before the month was out. In exchange, Baron Ferris would receive a tidy sum of some two hundred thousand sovereigns, payable through a combination of the next summer’s shipping revenue, noble tithes, and direct transfers from the treasury. It was an outrageous agreement for both parties. The sum promised to Baron Ferris was easily two or three times higher than the cost of the goods he would be delivering. And yet, at the same time, the overwhelming share of his promised wealth would not arrive unless Leo and his forces proved victorious. If Grey and the other counts managed to win the day, the man would be accepting a staggering loss.

  It was an enormous gamble on Ferris’ part. But, as Leo watched the man clumsily scrawl his name onto the parchment and affix his seal, he couldn’t help but be heartened. Not only was Ferris not the sort to back the losing side, but for the first time in nearly two decades, Leo found he could think of the man with something other than regret and loathing.

  “That should do it then,” Ferris announced. Straightening, he folded the parchment and tucked it into a pocket of his jacket. Then he rose, accepting his wife’s help with a warm smile, and offered Leo his hand. “Cad or not, you have the makings of a fine Duke, VanOrden. And, if nothing else, you’ve chosen an excellent Duchess.”

  Leo chuckled, accepting the baron’s hand and shaking it. The man’s grip was weak but controlled.

  “Actually, she’s the one who chose me,” he admitted. He glanced over in time to see Cirilla smile. “And… regarding Andria. My
lord, I am sorry about what—”

  “It’s the past,” Ferris announced. He wasn’t exactly smiling, but neither was he scowling. “And an old man like me can contemplate only so much at a time. If I’ve present matters to dwell on, well… what were we discussing again?”

  Rather than acknowledge the baron’s words, Leo simply bowed. And, as he straightened, he found Cirilla beside him.

  “It’s been a pleasure to meet you both,” she said, slipping her arm around Leo’s. “And, as I said to the baroness earlier, you are both welcome to visit us at the Ministry any time.”

  Ferris smiled coldly. “We may at that,” he said. And then, with the same half-hearted bow that had marked his entrance, he took his wife’s arm and led her out.

  There was a marked aura of relief from both the household servants and Leo’s guards as they made their way from the estate. Evidently, the initial shouting that had occurred had spooked them past the point that they could easily relax, and it was not until they neared the Ministry’s doors that their tense, furtive glances ceased.

  It was around the same time, however, as they stepped back into the safety and relative privacy of the ducal palace that Cirilla’s forced smile evaporated. She turned on him, arms folding and brow furrowing.

  “So. Andria?” she said testily. “This adolescent tryst of yours? Care to explain why you failed to mention any of this sooner?”

  “Can’t… can we have this conversation privately?”

  “No.”

  Leo glanced around at the guards in every direction. Rather than the respectfully blank expressions he expected to find, most if not all, wore barely contained smirks. Worse still, Nyssa, Sann, and Karran studied him in rapt attention.