George gingerly touched his bandage. “You’re right. I don’t remember a lot of blood, either. Or being stitched up.”
Eyeing the Captain’s gauze-covered wound, Jax didn’t want to risk disturbing Sabine’s handiwork unless she absolutely had to. “Do you remember which room you were in last night?” Her gaze swept the spattering of doors lining the hallway.
“This one.” In a few strides, George stood in front of the door, his thumb pushing the latch down with a click. “Come on.”
Jax followed him inside, assessing the intimate enclosure. It was much smaller than the tearoom, with just enough space for a sofa, a card table, and two chairs. “Everything looks in order.”
George scanned the area. “Yes, the same as when I left.”
Jax walked the length of the room, eying the elaborate rug covering most of the stone floor. “I wonder what she had to clean blood off of? The sofa and the rug don’t look like they’ve been tainted at all.”
“I didn’t leave my seat once she sat me down.” George ran a hand over the silky cushions.
“Then why make such a big fuss over it…?” Jax puzzled, reaching for the handle of a small closet in the far corner. She pulled the narrow door open, light from the wall sconces illuminating the shallow interior.
“George.” Jax waved him to her side. “Tell me what you see.”
The Captain peered over her shoulder at the closet floor. “Virtues, that’s a lot of blood.”
Jax stared at the pile of crimson-stained linen. “More than a mere head wound would produce.”
Chapter Seventeen
George broke their bewildered silence. “What’s our next move?”
“Can you bring Sabine in here, please? Without Ivan or Perry.”
George frowned. “I don’t think Perry will agree to that.”
“Goodness, make something up, then. Tell them I need to speak to Sabine about a woman’s issue.” She snorted as George’s face turned the color of the soiled linen at their feet. “See, that always shuts a man up from asking more.”
He departed without further protest. Jax closed the closet door and situated herself on one of the chairs by the card table. Sabine appeared moments later, looking confused and hesitant, while George, at her side, struggled to contain his laughter.
“Sorry,” he managed to say with a snort, “but you were right. Ivan and Perry made no objections.”
“What’s this about, Duchess?” Sabine clearly understood she had been lured here under false pretenses. “What are you doing in my private sitting room?”
“Sabine,” Jax said calmly, hoping to put the young woman at ease. She needed to gain her trust. “We need your help understanding what happened last night.”
“What happened? No one will tell me what you’re going on about!” Her frustration seemed convincing enough.
Jax stood and gracefully moved closer to the corner closet, noting that with each step she took, Sabine grew more tense. A light whimper escaped the girl’s lips as Jax reached out for the handle and pulled the door open. “Can you please tell us where these came from? We know George could not have bled out that much, or he wouldn’t be standing.”
Sabine sank to her knees, pleading tears streaming down her eyes. “Jax, you must believe me, I was only doing what was instructed of me!”
The thrill of uncovering the truth surged through Jax. “What were you instructed to do?”
It took the young woman a few minutes to regain her composure, hiccups bursting from her every few seconds. “H-he told me to get rid of them. I haven’t been able to yet, what with George being here until this morning, and then taking care of Mother.”
“Who told you, Sabine?” George asked, his voice level and calm.
“Philippe did. He left me a note.”
Jax hadn’t expected that answer. “Can you explain, please?”
Sabine wiped the river dripping from her nose. “Last night, I was awakened by a knock on my sitting room door. I’d had a little bit too much to drink and had fallen asleep on the sofa next to George.” She had the decency to look ashamed for leading them astray with her lie. “It took me a while to shake off the effects of the bottle we’d polished off, and by the time I reached the door, the knocking had long stopped. When I opened the door and looked out, the passage was dark. All my lamps had been snuffed out, and I couldn’t even see if anyone was around.” Sabine hugged herself. “In front of the door was a pile of dirty clothes with a note.”
Jax gripped the back of one of the chairs. “Do you still have the note? What did it say?”
Sabine nodded. “It said—hic—‘Destroy these, my Duchess. I did this for you’.”
Jax frowned at the use of her title. “That’s it? How did you know it was from Philippe?”
“That’s what he calls me in private.” Sabine looked a bit embarrassed. “A pet name of sorts.”
Jax noted she spoke about Philippe in the present tense. Perhaps she really did have nothing to do with his murder. “Because you plan to be married?”
Sabine’s words caught in her throat. “That is the plan, Duchess, but after speaking with you yesterday, I’m beginning to wonder if I should set my sights somewhere else.”
Jax did not miss the way Sabine’s eyes darted over to George’s tall frame, illuminated by the lamplight floating off the walls. “So, you opened the door, saw the heap on the ground and the note. What did you do next?”
“Well, I figured I’d deal with everything in the morning.” Sabine sighed. “I gathered up the linens, only to notice they smelled like iron and were not quite dry. I brought them over near the fireplace to get a better look at them, and that’s when I realized it was blood. Not having a clue what Philippe had gotten himself into, I threw them in the closet. I fled to my own bed, hoping George would just wake up and leave when he saw I wasn’t around.”
“When you realized it was blood, what did you think Philippe had done?” George asked, his smooth timber a drifting lullaby.
Sabine wiped her red-rimmed eyes as she rose to her feet. “I don’t know. I thought perhaps he had done something to scare Jax, like place a dead animal in her chambers. He’s done that to his brothers on more than one occasion.”
Jax cringed at Philippe’s cruelty. No wonder Sabine hadn’t thought to raise the alarm. Taking a moment to mull things over in the silence, Jax crouched down and carefully grabbed a fingerful of cloth not covered in blood. She pulled it free of the other pieces in the heap. “Correct me if I’m wrong, George, but this looks like a man’s sleep tunic.”
George assessed the heap of clothes for himself. “Tunic, pants, undershirt. The makings of nightclothes suitable for a cold castle.”
Sabine squeaked behind them. “Yes. That’s what the Pettraud boys all wear. I’ve helped Madame Neasa mend enough worn elbows to know.”
“All the Pettraud brothers wear night clothes like these?” Jax asked, wanting to make sure she’d heard correctly.
“Well,” Sabine said, blushing, “I don’t know what your husband wears to bed anymore, Duchess.”
Jax did not appreciate the childish joke, but refrained from making a comment.
“Sabine, what time did this all happen? What time did Philippe’s message appear?” George asked, seeming to sense Jax’s irritation.
The young woman bit her lip in a pout. “I can’t be entirely certain, but I think I remember the grandfather clock in the hall clanging when I opened the door. I think it only rang twice.”
“Two in the morning?”
Sabine nodded.
Jax reached for George’s arm, her grip tight. Philippe had been dead nearly an hour before Sabine claimed he knocked on her door.
“Does anyone else know Philippe’s nickname for you?” Jax wasn’t sure how long she could obey the Duke’s request to be discreet with her line of questioning.
“There are hardly any secrets amongst the Pettraud brood, as much as I’d like there to be.” Sabine’s angelic face darke
ned uncharacteristically. “All right, I’ve answered all your questions, Duchess. Will you please tell me what’s going on? What has Philippe gotten me into? I can’t afford to make the Duke angry, not with Mother’s health the way it is.”
A swell of pity bubbled up inside Jax. Sabine was clearly afraid of being tossed out of the castle. “I can’t give you the details just yet. I’m sorry. But rest assured, I’ll make sure the Duke understands your innocence.”
Relief bloomed on Sabine’s face. “Let me get the note for you.” She dashed to a small set of drawers tucked in the opposite corner next to a bookshelf. “Here.”
Jax took the small scrap of paper, likely torn from a larger piece of parchment, and assessed the scrawling handwriting. “Virtues, how did you even read this?”
Sabine hiccupped. “Chicken scratch, I know. Usually Philippe has such elegant writing, but considering the state of these clothes, I figured he was in a hurry.”
Jax read the same words Sabine had shared out loud, then tucked the note safely in her dress pocket along with the rose handkerchief. “Thank you for telling us the truth.”
Sabine reached for her arm. “I’m sorry I lied about severity of George’s wound, but I didn’t want Philippe to think I betrayed him. He can be a bit scary, as you saw last night.”
That’s an understatement. Jax hesitated for asking, “Did you also lie about the alcolite?”
Sabine nodded, this time, reaching for George’s folded arms. “I’m sorry. If you remembered anything, I wanted to be able to say it was the alcolite muddling your memories. Philippe will not be happy to hear I spent the night chatting away with you.” A crooked smile tugged at her perfect lips. “I did enjoy our time together, Captain Solomon.”
Jax’s stomach tightened at the intimacy coating her words, wondering again what they had talked about.
George cleared his throat. “We should return to Ivan and Perry. Our friends from Saphire will be arriving soon.”
Sabine bowed her head and shied away. “Should I still take care of these clothes for Philippe or leave them here?”
“Leave them here, for now,” Jax instructed as she glided over to the door. “I suppose we’ll see you at lunch.” Giving a slight wave of farewell, Jax escaped the confines of the sitting room, George at her heels.
“What do you make of that?” he whispered, even though they were alone in the hallway. With Philippe’s demise, worry flitted through Jax’s mind as to why Ivan hadn’t ordered more Ducal Guards on patrol.
Jax examined the fine lines sprouting from the corners of George’s eyes. The fatigue in his face felt like a reflection of her own. “Those clothes were delivered outside Sabine’s door after Philippe had been killed. I can only assume the attacker was covered in blood and needed a place to hide their things. Considering Sabine’s relationship with Philippe, perhaps the murderer thought enlisting her help was the safest bet. She didn’t question where the clothes came from or why they were covered in blood.”
“But the killer also expected her to get rid of them. You don’t think she’s in danger, do you? If the culprit finds out she didn’t adhere to his wishes?”
Jax twisted a loose strand of her hair around her finger. “You bring up a valid concern. Perhaps we should just keep this between us for now…and of course, Perry.”
George’s brows drew together. “Not Ivan?”
“Sabine confirmed the blood-covered linens were the traditional night garb of the Pettraud brood. As much as I can’t see Ivan as a killer…”
“It’s a chance we can’t take just yet,” George concluded. “Not with Sabine right in the middle of it all.”
Jax pulled the hastily written note out of her pocket. “Let’s hope Perry can tell us whose hand this is.” She stared at it a beat before folding it up and placing it safely back into her skirt.
George led the way back to the tearoom, where Perry and Ivan perched in awkward comfort, waiting for their return.
“Everything all right, my dear?” Perry came to her side, color blooming in his pale cheeks.
She chuckled at his reaction to her ploy. “Yes, I’m fine.” Turning to Ivan, she continued, “Sabine doesn’t seem to have any information relevant to our investigation.” The lie burned on her lips. “Should we break to greet my companions and perhaps get some lunch?”
Ivan stood. “Of course. Sustenance will hopefully give us the second wind our brains need.”
Jax simply smiled and waited for the Captain of the Pettraud Ducal Guard to lead the way toward the entrance of the castle.
“Are you sure everything is all right?” Perry whispered in her ear. “You were gone an awfully long time.”
George hastened his pace, joining Ivan up ahead, giving Jax a modicum of privacy with her husband.
“I’m sorry to deceive you, my love, but I wanted to speak with Sabine alone,” Jax replied in a hush. “There were some details of her story that didn’t add up.”
“The amount of blood she said came from George?”
A jolt of surprise flashed across her face.
“You didn’t think I could come to conclusions on my own, now, did you?” he said with a teasing grin.
It was her turn to blush. “I guess I’ll make a detective out of you yet.”
Perry chuckled. “You can fill us all in once Uma and the others arrive. I’m sure they’ll be flabbergasted to hear you’ve gotten yourself tangled up in yet another mystery.”
She swatted him across the arm, as his sarcasm was not lost on her.
By the time Ivan escorted them into the grand entrance hall, a chorus of voices announced that Uma, Hendrie, and Vita had arrived.
As much as she wanted to burst forward and scoop her friends in a hug, Jax maintained her regal grace as she waltzed over to greet them.
“You certainly don’t look any worse for wear,” she said with a delighted giggle, kissing Uma’s cheeks.
Uma sighed as she patted down her mousey brunette hair. “I thought I might lose my mind. Traveling in a carriage in pea soup fog is just about the most mind-numbing activity I’ve ever done.”
Hendrie bowed formally in front of Jax before reaching to shake Perry’s hand. “Olavo’s mutterings and outbursts could only keep us entertained for so long. We ended up stuffing a gag in his mouth.”
Jax caught sight of the prisoner being escorted by three Pettraud guardsmen. The chains around his hands and feet clanged ominously, echoing throughout the cavernous entryway.
Ivan seemed to guess her next question. “We’ve carved out a guarded space for him in the barracks, where he’ll be able to move around unshackled. Father told me you’ll be taking him back to Saphire with you?”
She nodded. “And then onto the War Council.”
“Virtues, I thought we finally might be rid of the man,” Vita said with a disgusted shudder before leaning in to kiss Jax on the cheek.
“Did he say anything of note during your journey?” Jax lowered her voice. “Before you gagged him, that is?”
“I’m afraid so.” Uma’s expression looked troubled. “He begged us to let him go for a time, kept saying he was an unwitting pawn, but then he started claiming he could help protect you.”
“Protect me? How?” Jax tilted her head.
Uma’s frown deepened. “He said he knows how Duchess Tandora operates, and that when she hears she has failed, she’s likely to retaliate.” She shivered. “We pressed him for further information, but he wouldn’t speak until he was guaranteed immunity by you.”
Jax’s heart rattled in her chest. “Did he, now?” Olavo’s looming threat worried her. The raven bearing the summons for the War Council would arrive in Tandora by sunset. Delphinia would soon be aware she’d failed in her plot to rid the realm of Jax. Another problem to add to her growing list.
A tsk escaped Vita’s lips. “Forgive me for saying this, Duquessa, but you don’t look very well rested. Haven’t you had time to recover from your journey here?”
Her la
dy’s maid’s frank candor brought a grin to her lips. “You know me…”
“Oh, no.” A crestfallen look washed over Uma’s pretty features. “What trouble have you gotten into now? You’ve hardly been here two days!”
Jax shushed her companions, remembering her pledge to be discreet about Philippe’s untimely demise. She glanced quickly over at Ivan, who was speaking with the guardsmen who had escorted her friends to the palace. “I’ll fill you in once you’ve all freshened up.”
Hendrie scratched at his straw-colored hair. “Duchess, I was hoping to visit with some old friends while we’re in Pettraud. If you or Perry don’t require my immediate assistance—”
“You should go! Enjoy your time back home,” Jax said, eager to please the valet. “Will you be able to join us later, perhaps for dinner?”
He nodded. “Yes, of course. Thank you.” He gave her a hurried bow and departed, kissing Uma on the cheek.
Her lady-in-waiting blushed, then quickly changed the subject. “I’d love to get out of these clothes.” She tugged at her traveling gown. “I’m afraid I didn’t pack enough for this unexpected detour.”
Jax waved a hand. “The Pettraud royal tailor has been sent by the Virtues personally, I swear it. She’ll help you get back into top form.” She noticed the Pettraudian footmen piling their luggage in the hallway, a sense of ease filling her chest at the sight of her belongings she’d left behind. They were all finally back together.
‡
Jax escorted her friends to their chambers adjacent to her own in the guest wing, declining Ivan’s offer to guide them to their rooms. Having seen the bloodied nightclothes hidden away in Sabine’s linen closet, she wasn’t entirely sure she trusted the guardsman above his other brothers, and she also wanted time alone to catch up with her friends.
George and Perry excused themselves to head off to opposite corners of the castle. Understanding that the Duchess wanted time with her lady-in-waiting and her lady’s maid, Perry went to seek the company of Kaul and Galahad, while George wanted to ensure Olavo was safely situated in the barracks.
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