by K. Young
Chester finally arrived with Mrs. Sterling, the tea, and the cold meat. Mrs. Sterling took one look at Kristen and tsked to herself. She had been with the Atchkinson’s since before Mel married Guy, and like Chester, she felt she had a right to take certain liberties. She spoke her piece when she was of a mind to do so and now was one of those times.
“Pardon my saying so, Lady Kristen, but I hopes you gave the bleedin' bastard that did that to ye a swift kick in his...”
Chester cleared his throat loudly, effectively cutting off whatever Mrs. Sterling had been about to say. She humphed at being interrupted and gave him a scathing look promising his lunch would be cold that day. She emptied the tray, curtsied to the ladies, and stormed out of the room. Meloney and Kristen waited until Chester left the room before they burst into a fit of laughter.
“You know, the look on Chester's face was absolutely priceless. He still gets so boorish with Mrs. Sterling whenever she speaks out like that. It really is too bad of him for she has the most devilishly interesting things to say.” Mel said between laughs.
“Well, it certainly was worth it. I've not laughed this hard since before my mother died.” Kristen added.
At the mention of her mother, both ladies sobered somewhat and remembered the situation at hand.
“I guess it would be prudent to start at the beginning, Mel.” Kristen sighed. She hadn't been looking forward to this part.
Kristen relayed the entire story beginning with her suspicions about her mother's death, the several attempts on her own life, and the marriage contract with Derrick Shane and his subsequent refusal. She explained how her stepfather had proposed marriage and had taken to locking her in her room when she had flatly refused to even consider it, her planned escape, her run in with the thug in the cave that had given her the bruise on her face, and her showdown with Derrick, the rogue that he was.
While she had been relaying all of the details to Mel, her friend had tended to her wounds. Mel cleaned her cuts and scrapes with the witch hazel and placed the cold slab of meat over Kristen's bruised face, forcing her head back against the sofa. When Kristen finished her tale, she looked imploringly at her friend, hoping she had a solution that would get her out of this mess, and that she still felt like being of assistance.
"Well then, is that all?" Mel teased.
Kristen laughed softly.
"Listen, my decision to assist you in whatever way I can has not changed. The circumstances surrounding your mother's death are quite fishy, to be sure, but everyone in your family has died in some weird way or another. You know my theories on the matter; they've not changed."
Kristen rolled her eye that wasn't covered with raw meat. "Mel, it seems ridiculous to me that anyone from Norway would be here to kill us."
"And why not? It is perfectly reasonable given you're the last rightful heir to the throne. Perhaps the plan was to kill you off, one by one, until you were no longer a threat."
"But we moved here." Kristen insisted, refusing to believe that her family died for greed.
"Yes, but it was always your grandfather's wish for you to return. You know that."
"I'm not a ruler."
"But, you are. You just have to accept that."
Kristen fell quiet, not wishing to argue with her friend, but that subject was one her and her mother had disagreed on quite a bit. The plan had always been that one day they would return to Norway and reclaim their throne, by force if necessary. Her grandfather had been concerned for their people, but Kristen suspected he also missed being important. He had servants here, but it wasn't the same as being responsible for an entire country. Still, Kristen believed that they should leave the past in the past. Since it was through her generation they were hoping to return, she made it clear she wanted no part of it. Many, many arguments erupted over that news. But, as far as Kristen was concerned, ruling Norway was a death trap for them all. Fat lot of good it was now since they were all dead anyway.
Mel noted the despondency in her friend and decided to drop the subject for now. She knew Kristen well enough to know that when she fell silent, there would be no more discussion of that particular topic. Mel didn't understand Kristen's reluctance. She was a genuine princess, and her heritage had been robbed from her, but Kristen was perfectly happy to remain in England. Still, they had other matters to discuss, so Mel knew it was best to move on for now.
"We'll get back to that subject another time. Suffice it to say, death attempts or not, you have my help."
"Thank you." Kristen said gratefully.
Mel nodded. "Now then, this situation with your stepfather is abominable. You will need to find a husband, and right quickly too because if Ashby forces himself on you, you won't have a choice after that.
“I know, I was thinking the same thing. I hope you have some ideas, or at the very least, some prospects that I could work with. I don't have to love the man, but someone I could at least like would be ideal.”
Mel sat back against the sofa and tapped her forefinger to her cheek thoughtfully. Finally, she spoke.
“Yes, I think Derrick Shane would be an excellent match, m'dear.”
Kristen, who sat up and was in the process of sipping her tea, spewed the contents all over Mel.
***
Derrick paced across the floor of his cabin rather impatiently. So far his men had been unsuccessful in retrieving the little vixen who had managed to knock him out. They had searched the entire cliff this side of the mountain, and there was still no sign of Kristen. It was as though she had completely vanished. Even though he had dismissed the thought before, he couldn't help but to again wonder if she had a lover that she was meeting. His fists tightened at his side, and the anger that was merely simmering below the surface began to bubble over.
He quickly tamped down the thought of her meeting a lover, yet again. He didn't know why it bothered him so since he had a mistress of his own, and he had refused her marriage contract, but it bloody well did. The thought of another man touching Kristen set his blood on fire and he saw red. Derrick chided himself for his absurdity since he'd only just met her, had in fact, been left for dead by her. But, since he had no way of knowing whether Kristen was the sort to turn him over to the authorities, he felt she could still pose a threat. Still, he was less concerned with her posing a threat and more concerned with not seeing her again. The very idea left a cold spot in his chest that he couldn't explain, but he knew it was important she be found.
Jack chose that particular moment to enter the cabin. He took one look at Derrick's bemused expression and began laughing his head off. Derrick, in no mood for Jack's incessant humor, cocked a brow and gave him a menacing look.
“Are you quite finished?” He asked with his calm tone, the one he reserved for when he was really angry.
Jack knew the tone for what it was, an invitation to stop while he was ahead. Derrick blustering and yelling wasn't so dangerous. But, this Derrick. Well, let's just say Jack had only seen this from him twice before. The two times previously, the unlucky fellow had spent the next several weeks laid up in bed, not moving. Derrick was certainly in a fit to be tied, but damn Jack if he didn't find it the funniest thing he had ever seen. Still, he sobered, giving Derrick his mischievous grin.
“Not really, old boy. Deuced if I've ever seen you looking so bloody pissed off.” Jack risked a chuckle.
“So, you're back to speaking properly, are you?”
“Ah, the crew isn't around, and it's not as funny when you won't be annoyed with me for doing it.” Jack admitted.
“Did you find her?” Derrick knew the answer but asked anyway. His Kristen was nothing if not resourceful.
“No, we searched, but she's right disappeared, she has. She left quite a mess in her wake, I don't mind telling you. Samson is out. She managed to puncture a vein and he's got quite a bit of internal bleeding according to the doc. She got her nails into Thomas' eyes pretty good, too. One of them is severely damaged and he might have to wear a patch.
I believe he's quite happy about that part, actually. Lee's alright, though. He will be bruised and have a right headache, but beyond that he is top notch. You don't seem to look the worse for wear, but you never know. She did manage to smash a vase against your head, an expensive one I might add. How d'ya feel, old man?”
Derrick smiled. Given the circumstances, he felt good. His mood had improved considerably as Jack relayed all the damage she had done. His little Kristen – and he'd really come to think of her as his – was proving to be more fascinating by the minute. She didn't know it yet, but she had most assuredly sealed her fate that night. If it was the last thing he did, he would find her again and discover all of the passions she possessed.
Chapter 7
Alice Daniels paced in front of the fire, the candles she had lit shortly after midnight had burned to the bottom, and the bottle of wine she had intended to share was almost gone. It was well past the time in which Derrick said he would be there, and he was never late. At first she worried that something had happened to him. He didn't know that she knew, but Alice was aware of his late night activities. While most young lords spent their evenings lusting after the young hopefuls of the season, Derrick spent his on the deck of a ship preparing to smuggle goods in and out of England.
Oh, he was quite good at what he did, and no one else seemed to know what he was up to. Why, Alice only knew because she was trained to know such things. When she had been assigned to live in England, it was the worst punishment she could imagine, and to her knowledge, she hadn't done anything to deserve it. But, she had met Derrick shortly after her arrival three years ago, and he'd made it bearable. She'd taken the post of his mistress, but that didn't seem permanent enough. Once her assignment was completed, she would be forced to return home, and frankly, life with Derrick was simple. Her punishment had turned into a haven, and she had grown accustomed to the simplicity. She had hoped to bring up the subject of making their arrangement more permanent that evening, but she had been stood up.
Alice walked to what remained of the candles and blew them out. She drank the rest of the wine straight from the bottle, then glaring at the bright fire before her, she threw the bottle into the flames. The glass shattered and pieces went flying everywhere, but she paid little attention as she watched the flames dance and burn brighter from the alcohol. There was no hope for it now. She would have to carry out her task before someone else was sent and she was permanently removed. As it was, she was already two weeks late with her delivery. Any longer and someone else would come, and Alice knew exactly who would be sent. She shivered at the thought.
That in mind, Alice swung around and headed for the door. She would need to change quickly as it was almost dawn. If she hurried, the girl might still be asleep, and Alice would be in and out before the first rays of light crested the hills. The beauty of being a mistress was that there were no live-in servants to watch her comings and goings. As she had frequent late night visits from Derrick, the servants merely stayed until after dinner was prepared and cleaned away, then Alice was left to her own devices until morning.
And, so it was that after Alice had changed into men's breeches, she made her way out of the house with no one the wiser of her actions. She knew the streets of London well, having spent the last three years creeping through them in the dead of night. Not the nights she spent with Derrick, of course. But, taking out an entire royal family was a lot of work. And, the one who paid her had a strict schedule for their demise. The girl was already supposed to be dead, but Alice had been hoping to spend more time with Derrick. If she married, she got to leave her old life behind her.
As she made her way to the manor on the outskirts of London, she began to wonder why Derrick had stood her up. Usually, if he was detained for any reason, he would send a note. Doubt began to creep into her mind. Was he with someone else? Was he losing interest in her? She couldn't let that happen. She needed Derrick, and she was desperate enough to make certain that his interest remained with her. Alice decided she would just have to snoop around a little to see what was going on.
Alice reached the manor without issue. Stephen Ashby wasn't exactly well off, and since Alice had caused the accident that killed his wife Marie, the manor had fallen to disrepair. But, Ashby was neither here nor there as far as Alice was concerned. No, she was there for the girl. The last remaining descendant of the Christiansen line, and the only one left to contest Sander's rule. All Alice had to do was slit her throat and be done with the whole sordid affair. It was nothing personal, but Alice had a job to do. The Lady Kristen Ashby would be no more after tonight.
Standing behind a wide oak tree, Alice scanned the grounds. There weren't any servants lingering about in the wee hours of the morning, so she crept toward the back of the house. She knew exactly which window was the Lady Kristen's and began her climb through the trees at the back to reach it. Once she had gotten to the roof, it was an easy matter of scaling over to the window and climbing inside. Lady Kristen always slept with her window open.
As Alice crawled through the window, she was immediately grabbed by the scruff and dragged all the way inside. Panic swelled in her chest at being caught and she froze in place as a rough hand slapped her across the cheek. Her head whipped to the side so hard she knew her neck would be sore tomorrow.
"You ungrateful trollop!"
The man slapped Alice again before stomping away to the other side of the room. By that point, Alice was pretty angry herself. Not only was her mark clearly not in the room, but her absence was noticed, which meant that Alice's presence would be noticed, as well. And, despite the fact that this man didn't know she wasn't the Lady Kristen, she still didn't like being slapped around. She put her hands on her hips as she heard a match against the striker. A moment later, Stephen Ashby had a candle lit. As he turned to face her, his angry demeanor changed to one of confusion.
"Who the devil are you?" He demanded.
Alice cocked a brow. "Who the devil did you think I was?"
"This is my house and I'll be asking the questions around here."
Ashby walked around the bed and came back to face Alice. As he got a look at her, he swallowed visibly. Alice grinned. She knew she had that effect on men sometimes. She had been told once that she was extremely predatory when she wanted to be. Nevertheless, she had a score to settle for being slapped twice, and it was a debt she was unwilling to let pass unpaid. She threw a right cross that sent Ashby skittering across the bed. He dropped the candle, and the small flame lit the carpet underneath on fire. Alice stomped it out and retrieved the candle from the floor, then walked around to the bedside table to relight it.
Ashby stood up sputtering and indignant as Alice struck a match and relit the candle
"How dare you!" He grouched.
Alice shrugged. "That was for slapping me. Now, where is the girl?"
Ashby rubbed his jaw and looked at her irritably. "What girl?"
"Don't play coy with me, Ashby. It is most unbecoming, and you can't afford to be unbecoming."
The insult caused him to bristle and puff his chest out, but then he deflated it and sagged against the bed.
"In truth, I do not know. I locked her in here early this evening, and now she is gone. All of my wife's money with her, too. Dratted child. I was hoping to make her my new wife, but she's rather ungrateful."
Alice thought the girl was rather smart to run away from an old, wrinkled pathetic gambler, but she refrained from telling him so. Instead, she walked around the side of the bed to face him. Killing him wasn't part of the plan. She wouldn't be paid for his blood, but he had seen her which meant that he could identify her when Lady Kristen's body turned up. But, before Alice could make up her mind one way or the other, Ashby shot off the bed and backed away from her. His eyes were wild with fear.
"Who sent you? How do you know my name? What do you want with Kristen?"
"Calm down." Alice said as she rolled her eyes and set the candle on the desk near the window.
> "Did my creditors send you? Because I said I would pay the money back."
"I'm not here for you."
Ashby stood up straight and cocked his head to the side. Alice's head spun with the sudden change in Ashby's mood. She noted he seemed prone to that.
"You're the one that's been killing off my wife's family the last three years, aren't you?" He asked calmly.
Alice's head snapped up, and she took an angry step forward.
"How the devil would you know something like that?"
Ashby grinned. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to turn you over the authorities or anything. But, I've known that family for nineteen years, and not one of them would have died the way they did. Marie was an excellent rider, and Solomon was an accomplished boatman and swimmer, not to mention the other accidents the nobles suffered."
"Well, if you're not going to turn me over to the authorities, then what difference does it make what I've done and why I'm here?"
"Because, I was forced to marry that whore of a woman nineteen years ago to settle my debts. I've never wanted anything to do with the lot of them, but around they stayed. Until you came along and began taking them out of my life one by one. Thank you for that, much obliged." He gave her a lazy salute to which she motioned him to continue. "Anyway, the girl is of no consequence to me. Whether she lives or dies makes no difference so long as I get the money. Marie, the despicable cow, left me with nothing and I have debts to pay."
"What do I care of your situation?"
"We can help each other."
Alice laughed at the very idea that she, a master assassin for the Viking's of Norway, should need help from such a little man. He was delusional. Although, she did have to admit he was rather clever, knowing she had been the one behind the Christiansen deaths, and not questioning it just because she was a woman. And, not that she needed help, but if she did strike a bargain with Ashby, she could let him focus on killing the girl and Alice could focus on her relationship with Derrick.
