The Elusive Earl

by Maddison Michaels

  Although, if it was true, then that meant she had a grandfather. Someone who would be able to tell her about her mother. But why hadn’t he looked for her before now? The captain had said they thought she had died as a baby…but still…

  Oh her mind was in a horrid muddle. She’d spent the night tossing and turning in Maria and Rodrigo’s bed while Daniel had slept on the floor next to her. She’d awoken feeling not only unsettled but unrested, too. And it hadn’t helped that she felt dreadful about staying in the couple’s bed while they slept with their children, in the children’s beds. But Rodrigo and Maria had insisted, even when she herself had been emphatic about sleeping in the barn instead.

  Rodrigo said they would feel shamed if they let the Principessa and her husband sleep in their barn, rather than in the comfort of their home. He had been insistent that as their honored guests, Brianna and Daniel must take the best bed in the house, or it would be a great dishonor to him and his family.

  Which is how she’d found herself sharing a room with that overbearing, maddening man. A good thing, too, he had simply pulled one of the blankets from the bed onto the ground and lain on it. At least, some measure of decorum was being adhered to whilst they played the charade of being husband and wife.

  Luckily, they didn’t have to pretend to be happily married. Their argument had insured that Rodrigo and Maria were well aware of the discord between them.

  The more she thought about the earl keeping the secret from her, the angrier she got. Though, if she were truthful with herself, it was probably Uncle Walter with whom she was more upset. He’d been more of a father to her than an uncle, and someone she thought she could trust above anyone. But now she was not certain that was, in fact, the case. For, it would seem the man had been lying to her her whole life. Because whenever she’d asked him about her mother, he’d said he unfortunately didn’t know anything about her…

  While Daniel might have known for only a day, she simply could not accept that someone in her uncle’s profession, being the head of the intelligence department for Britain, would not know her true heritage. No. He knew. Brianna was confident of that. But why had he not told her? Uncle Walter always shared things with her, more so than even with Travis or Milly. But clearly, he had not shared this one piece of news that changed everything for her.

  Why would he keep such monumental information from her?

  She gazed down at the journal and resigned herself to the fact that some answers might be in the pages themselves.

  Bracing herself, she opened the cover and began to read from the first slip of loose paper that contained the start of Mr. Bartardi’s translation.

  Brianna didn’t know how long she sat there reading her mother’s words through Mr. Bartardi’s scrawl. But when she finally got to the last page he’d translated, which was the majority of the journal, she realized that it must have been for some time as the sun was now shining brightly down on her, and her back had become stiff and sore from sitting so long on the hard ground.

  Taking in a slightly shaky breath, she stared off into the distance. Her parents had done it. They had found King Aleric’s treasure. And now she knew why they had been killed.

  A sudden chill ran through her veins.

  She stood, and some folded pieces of paper dropped from the back of the journal. Picking them up, she opened the first one. It looked like it was some sort of certificate, written in Italian. The second one was the same, though it looked to contain different information.

  The third piece, though, had lines of words written in a language Brianna didn’t readily recognize, though perhaps it was the ancient eastern Germanic language of the Goths? Which would make sense, as that was the language that King Aleric would have used. Scrawled next to these were notes written in her mother’s hand, presumably translating the text, but oddly, her mother had written in English and not Italian. Bree’s eyes glanced down the page to her mother’s words:

  If it is the treasure you wish to find,

  A weeping mountain you must climb.

  Push past your fears and go through the tears.

  Then find the lion who protects the gate.

  Use the amulet and he will decide your fate

  (heart of the flower)

  Those true of heart and willing to be led,

  Will travel down deep to King Aleric’s bed.

  But beware of the danger that lies close,

  To that which men seek most.

  Frustration rose in her belly. What on earth did the poem mean? It made no sense, for if it were full of clues as to the treasure’s location, there were hundreds of mountains in the Calabria region. How would they find out which was the weeping mountain? And what did the other clues mean?

  “I see you’ve read her journal.” Daniel’s deep voice seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet of the morning air.

  Bree spun around. “Goodness, I didn’t hear you approach.”

  The sun was reflecting off his deep golden hair, creating a soft halo around him. He looked like a glorious Adonis warrior in a Botticelli painting. It took her a minute to remember she was still extremely vexed with him.

  “You were somewhat preoccupied.” He glanced down to the journal in her hand. “You’ve looked through it?”

  “I have. Mr. Bartardi translated most of it.” She placed her other hand on her hip and tapped her toe. “But don’t think to distract me. I am still very upset with you.”

  “I know you are. And for what it is worth, I am sorry.”

  She met his eyes, somewhat mollified that there appeared to be genuine contrition in their depths.

  “I had meant to tell you in the morning after I collected you,” he continued, “but I found myself delaying doing so.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know exactly…”

  “That doesn’t sound like you?”

  He exhaled. “It now appears that you have a grandfather in Cosenza wishing to claim you as his heir. Which means you most likely will not be returning to England with the Penderleys but will instead be staying here in Italy as the future ruler of the province.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it in quite that light.” Stay in Italy? How could she do that? Everyone she loved lived in England. “I would have thought that you’d be happy to have me out of your hair.”

  His gaze lifted to the horizon. “I’m not certain…”

  Bree felt her throat tighten from his words. What did he mean? He couldn’t possibly be suggesting that he would be sad if she stayed here. Could he?

  The silence was disturbed by the echo of horses’ hooves pounding through the forest.

  “Quickly, come.” Daniel grabbed her hand, and they ran down the hill to the cottage, Bree clutching the journal tightly to her chest.

  They paused near the building’s back entrance when they heard Rodrigo speaking to someone at the front. A moment later, the sound of a horse hastening away echoed in the breeze.

  Rodrigo burst from the back of the house, carrying her satchel, and the courier satchel, along with a spare one in his hands. “You must go, I am afraid.” He held the bags out to Bree and Daniel. “That was one of my comrades who lives down beyond the ridge. He is warning everyone in the vicinity that the Garendetta are searching all cottages looking for an English couple. My wife has packed an extra bag for you both with some supplies to help.”

  “We will go immediately. Our thanks for your generosity.” Daniel and Rodrigo shook hands.

  Brianna hung her satchel over her neck and settled it at her shoulder, while Daniel stuffed the smaller courier satchel into the spare one, before hanging it, too, over his neck. She opened the flap on hers and placed the journal inside.

  “Maria has packed some spare clothes for you both, along with a flagon of water and some food supplies, in the spare bag.” Rodrigo pointed at his barn. “Take two of my horses and ride across the mountain, following the river to the east. You will come upon the town of Castellucino. From there, follow
this map.” He pushed a folded piece of parchment into Daniel’s hand. “It will guide you to a trail through the mountains, which few use, but will lead you closer to Cosenza.”

  Bree reached over and took his hand in her own. “Thank you to you and your wife, Rodrigo. I will remember your generosity always.”

  A slight red tinge rose up across the man’s face.

  “Of course, we must help you, Principessa,” he said with a brief bow as he placed a deft kiss on her knuckles. “What a tale to tell in years to come. But here, you must take this, too.” He pressed a thin but extremely long chain with a small piece of brass hanging from it into her hands. “This will assist in your passage through the mountains.”

  The little medallion had a coat of arms with a lion etched into its center. “What does it represent?”

  Rodrigo smiled. “It is a symbol of freedom and belongs to those of us who oppose the Garendetta. If you show it to anyone you come across in the mountains, they will let you pass without issue. Just tell them you call upon the lion for safe passage.”

  “Our thanks again. I shall ensure you are compensated for your horses,” Daniel said.

  “Take this, too.” Rodrigo handed Daniel a bronze hilted dagger. “It may come in handy, though I hope you have no need of it. God bless you on your journey, my friends,” Rodrigo waved to them as they ran to the barn.

  Bree watched as Daniel deftly saddled first one, then the other horse. One was a black brute of a stallion, and the other was a speckled mare with a spritely twinkle in her eyes.

  “Will you be able to cope without a side saddle?”

  “I do know how to sit astride a horse, for goodness sake, Daniel.”

  “Of course you do,” he muttered, as he gave her a leg up onto the mare. “I must have forgotten who I was talking to for a moment.”

  “Clearly, you must have.” She arched her brow before spurring her horse forward and down the track.

  She glanced back to see Daniel vaulting up onto the stallion and following her as her mare galloped away from the farm.

  Soon he was abreast of her, and he urged his stallion on, obviously wanting to put as much distance between them and the approaching Garendetta as he could.

  They crested the hill, and she saw the river ahead as Rodrigo had instructed them. The rapids flowed in a harsh torrent. Bree shivered at the memory of being clutched in its icy grip only yesterday.

  “Are you all right?” Daniel called across to her.

  Had he seen her trembling? Or was he, too, thinking of their brush with death?

  “I am fine.” But was she really? Everything she’d known to be true in her life wasn’t anymore. The future had become suddenly unsure and frightening. And for once, she wasn’t excited by the prospect of the unknown.

  …

  The town of Castelluccio Superiore slowly came into view. An array of stone buildings perched atop a small hill, with the Apennine Mountain range looming large in the background.

  Daniel loosened his horse’s reins, letting it trot along the stony road leading into the town. Fenced paddocks lined it, containing hundreds of pigs happily grazing on the grass.

  “I have never seen so many pigs in one place.” Brianna finally spoke from where she was riding next to him.

  “Well, the town is known for its pork sausages.” He slowed his horse to a canter.

  “Oh that is a terrible jest,” Bree said, following suit with her own horse.

  “It’s actually true. Rodrigo mentioned it last night at dinner.”

  “Oh.” Her voice was subdued. “I wasn’t particularly paying attention to your dinner conversation. I was a little preoccupied with other thoughts.”

  Daniel said nothing in reply. She had pointedly ignored him last night after their quarrel, instead mostly playing with the two children. He couldn’t really blame her, though. At least, now, it was out in the open, and all they had to do was get to Cosenza. They just had to find the trail Roderigo had spoken of, through Castellucino.

  The town itself was a hive of activity, with villagers bustling about and casting only cursory glances in their direction. With the clothes Maria and Rodrigo had loaned them both, they were blending in rather nicely with the villagers, even if they did appear somewhat peculiar in the ill-fitting garments. Daniel’s looked as if they’d shrunk a few sizes, whilst Bree’s appeared to have grown greatly, particularly in the chest region.

  “Where do we go now?” Bree asked.

  Daniel pulled out the map and unfurled it. “Looks like the trail is just beyond the town to the south.” He glanced up at the mountains on the horizon. “It’s going to be rough terrain, and as Roderigo mentioned, there may be mountain people not too happy for us to be using their passage.”

  “Yes, I heard him mention that, too.” The expression on her face reminded Daniel of when his sister was paying him lip service.

  “It means you may have to listen to my directions, without question.” He tried to keep his voice level and patient.

  “You know I rarely listen to directions.” There was a decided twinkle in her gaze. She obviously knew she was being difficult and was enjoying toying with him.

  Reluctantly, he felt a smile begin to tug at his mouth. “Unfortunately, I do.”

  Her lips quirked up at the corners in response, and for a moment, the potent memory of what her luscious mouth had felt like beneath his stole through him. He abruptly stopped laughing and dragged his eyes away from her. “Come on, the trail isn’t too far past the village.” He urged his stallion into a trot toward the other side of the town.

  Brianna happily kept pace with him, her hair streaming out behind her in a riotous mess of chestnut locks. She glanced over at him and grinned before she spurred her horse faster and overtook him.

  A laugh escaped him as he urged his horse on to catch her. She certainly could ride astride. And for a brief moment as they raced together along the road leading out of the village, he forgot they were being chased and that Travis was in danger. He forgot everything except the joy he was experiencing riding with this woman who had caused him so much trouble in the past.

  A woman who was making him forget all his own rules and was weaving her way into his heart.

  Chapter Fifteen

  At first, Bree thought the sprinkling of rain was delightful, cooling not only herself and Daniel down, but their horses, too, after they’d spent hours riding along the trail that wound itself across the Apennine Mountain range. But then, as the droplets got bigger and continued to pound down, it had become less delightful and a lot more annoying. Bree was starting to feel like a cold, wet rag.

  Plus, the dirt track was getting increasingly difficult to traverse, and the animals were showing signs of discontent, if their continual braying was any indication.

  “Are we going to stop soon?” Bree yelled, trying to be heard above the downpour.

  “Up ahead,” Daniel hollered back. “According to the map, there should be some caves there. We’ll seek shelter in them.”

  “Caves?” Bree hoped he couldn’t hear the note of alarm in her voice, as a frisson of apprehension crawled up her spine at the thought of spending the night in some dark caverns, trapped by rock on all sides. She would rather spend the night sleeping in the mud and rain, and would have done so if it weren’t for the fact that she’d most likely catch a chill and her death doing so.

  She hated dark, small spaces with a vengeance. Not that she’d ever admit such a thing to him.

  “What did you say?” Daniel called out.

  Though their horses were trotting alongside each other, she could barely make out his words over the droplets striking harshly down onto the ground.

  She shook her head, trying to convey that what she had said was of no importance. He didn’t need to know her fear, and really, she didn’t want to waste her breath trying to have a conversation with him in this sort of weather.

  She glanced up at the dark sky swirling above, blinking as the rain continued to
lance across her face. The clouds had blocked out any remnants of the afternoon with their black heaviness. The wind was now whipping up, too, adding more ferocity to the deluge.

  Maybe a cave wouldn’t be so bad? She kept repeating the mantra over and over in her head, hoping that she might actually start to believe it. After all, it did, at least, mean they’d be out of the wet.

  Though, they’d be all alone together, just the two of them…and after their kiss yesterday? She felt a blush creep up her cheeks just thinking of his lips upon hers and the things his tongue had done… She was getting all flustered even from the thought of it.

  “Just over there.” Daniel’s booming voice jerked her back to the present.

  Thank goodness most of the light from the day was nearly gone and he couldn’t see her flaming face. Otherwise, he’d know exactly what she’d been thinking about. And that would not do.

  She looked across at where he was pointing to a small rise up ahead to the left of the track. Gently, Bree urged her horse to follow his up the muddy incline. They crested the slope, and she could see the dark, yawning opening of the caves he had spoken about.

  Feeling her throat constrict slightly, she nevertheless trailed behind Daniel until they came to the hollow entrance etched into the mountain.

  They stopped at the mouth of the caves, which had a canopy of trees to the side, offering some shelter.

  Daniel jumped off his horse and tethered it to one of the branches.

  Somewhat reluctantly, she did likewise. At least, with the tree limbs overhead, the worst of the rain had ceased pounding down on their backs.

  He quickly retrieved the spare satchel Rodrigo had given them along with a blanket from his saddlebag and then set about ensuring the horses were secure. Luckily, there was enough water pooling on the ground in big puddles for the animals to have a bountiful supply to drink from.

  “I shall check it’s safe,” Daniel said as he dashed over to the entrance and, without hesitation, ran inside. Cautiously, she began to follow him into the space. She glanced back at the horses, now partially sheltered from the rain by the trees overhead. Perhaps she should stay with them? What was a little more rain, really, when she was already soaking wet?