Mountfalcon—6 Germenal, 6538
The rain poured down in sheets and the sky was a dismal grey overhead, as a cumbersome old coach painted with a gentleman’s arms splashed through the mud on the road to Hawkesbridge.
Inside, Sir Bastian Mather glanced across at his young companion, who was trying to keep up a brave front but had only succeeded, so far, in looking cold and miserable. The lumbering vehicle was only Lord Brakeburn’s second-best coach, which leaked, and creaked, and was generally wretched—as Sir Bastian and Lili had learned as soon as the rain came down. But the selfish Lord Brakeburn had considered it good enough for his daughter’s journey to Hawkesbridge.
Sir Bastian smiled encouragingly. “Captain Blackheart is expecting you to arrive today?”
“He has rented a very fine house near the Volary, and he has written to say that he’ll wait for me there. But knowing Wilrowan, how impatient he is, I would hardly be surprised if he rode out to meet us.”
Sir Bastian frowned under his soft black hat. “Then I must stop off at Wellburn and travel by post from there. It is far better if Captain Blackheart and I never meet in your company. We don’t want him to suspect that you are visiting the city for a double purpose.”
Lili moved her fingers inside her fox-fur muff. They were cold and stiff. “It seems—it seems a great inconvenience to travel by post in such dirty weather. And why should Will think anything if he sees us together?”
“He would not think anything at first. But he may meet me later, when I am staying at Marlowe’s, and there is no telling what he might think then.”
Lili drew a deep breath. “Of course. How stupid of me not to realize.” She laughed softly at her own mistake. “That is why Will left Brakeburn in such a hurry. He is searching for the Chaos Machine, the same as we are!”
“He was—while it still seemed possible the Jewel was in Mountfalcon.” The coach hit a series of ruts, and the old gentleman raised his voice in order to be heard over the rattling of the windows, the creaking of the ancient panels. Among its other deficiencies, the coach lacked springs and was hung on leather straps. “But having returned to his ordinary duties guarding the queen, he is unlikely to present a problem—or to guess what you are doing in Hawkesbridge yourself.”
Lili felt a sharp twinge of guilt. “Sir Bastian, I don’t know what Aunt Allora has said to you, but Wilrowan is not a bad man. And if the king and queen are willing to put their faith in him, I don’t see why we can’t do the same.”
“I am far from doubting young Blackheart’s good intentions. I am sure, Lilliana, you would never bestow your friendship on a truly wicked man. But it is his lack of discretion and self-regulation that could be absolutely fatal in this delicate matter.”
“Perhaps,” said Lili, still feeling troubled. Her teeth rattled as the coach passed over a large bump. “But it seems very odd to be working at cross-purposes with my own husband.” She sat staring out the window, watching the wet grey countryside passing by. There was a certain irony in the fact that everyone kept saying she should not trust Will—who, whatever he had done, had never lied to her—while assuring her all along that it was perfectly proper to go on deceiving him.
“Lilliana,” said Sir Bastian, drawing her attention back from the window, “I understand this is going to be exceedingly awkward, that you will often feel torn by conflicting loyalties. It cannot be helped. You must simply regard this as another test.”
“Yes,” said Lili softly. “Another test.” But that put her in mind of something which had been troubling her for quite some time.
“Sir, perhaps it’s not proper that I should ask this. But during my initiation, when I was in the underground temple, did I really do all those remarkable things? Or was it merely that the drugs in the wine made me think I was doing them?”
Sir Bastian smiled at her across the coach. “Did you walk on air, pass through solid wood, place your hand in the heart of a flame and emerge unscathed, drink deadly poison and survive?”
“Yes. Though I expect the poison was real enough. At least there I had my training as a healer to aid me.”
“Everything was exactly as you perceived it. You were in a state of extraordinary mental excitement and your powers were very great. But I would not, if I were you, attempt to do any of those things under other circumstances. The least distraction, even a momentary twinge of self-doubt, would cause you to fail, and that failure could cause your death.”
Lili sat up a little straighter in the leather seat, studied her companion with greater interest, realizing that he, too, had passed the very same tests.
He guessed what she was thinking. “Yes, my child, I have walked on air, done all of those things and many more besides. But never again after the first time. To try to do so, merely to prove that I still could, would be exalting myself beyond what is right.”
Lili hesitated. “But then—I am not wrong in supposing that my initiation changed me? I feel as though all my senses have sharpened, as though I am more aware of things.” She stroked the squirrel-skin lap robe, which Sir Bastian had spread across her skirts earlier. “The way the fur feels under my fingers, the scent of wood smoke when we pass by a farmhouse.” She gave a deep sigh. “Even the dampness and discomfort of this interminable ride.”
“You are not wrong. The entire ordeal was meant to refine and sharpen your abilities, as well as to test you. And believe me, Lilliana, you are going to need all of the strength and the courage you demonstrated that night.” Drawing his hands out of his coat pockets, he leaned forward, caught up her hands in a warm, reassuring clasp, and spoke to her very earnestly. “Do you remember the moment of ecstatic surrender to magic and mystery? From this day on, you will be called on to surrender again and again, though never again in such a thrilling fashion, and never to be so pleasantly rewarded.
“More often than not,” he added, releasing his hold on her, “the only reward will be the necessity for further sacrifice. Do you think you can bear it? I must warn you that the tests you passed at your initiation were comparatively easy ones.”
Lili thought about that for a long time, sitting with her head bowed and her hands inside the fox-fur muff. “I will bear it, sir,” she answered at last, “because I must.”
The coach finally creaked to a halt outside the rented house in Hawkesbridge. Sir Bastian had stopped off at Wellburn as planned, and the last ten miles of the journey had been lonely and disheartening. Lili was glad to be home, even if home was this strange tall house on a narrow, climbing street, in an unfamiliar part of the town.
But when Will came out on the steps to meet her and escort her inside, when his face lit up at the sight of her and her heart gave an unexpected leap at the sight of him, she realized, with a pang, that the task before her was going to be harder than she had imagined.
Will looked very well in his green uniform: trim and active, disturbingly masculine. As he pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand, as he kissed each of her fingers in turn, Lili felt her knees begin to tremble under her skirts.
“I have missed you,” he said under his breath. “And you look like a breath of spring though the weather’s so foul!”
They paused inside a crowded entry hall, at the foot of a rosewood staircase gleaming with wax. Though they were surrounded by servants, Wilrowan slid a strong arm around Lili’s waist and planted a kiss firmly on her lips.
Oh dear, thought Lili, much too keenly aware of his lean, hard body, wonderfully and terribly aware of the taste of his mouth as it touched hers. The change inside her, the new way of noticing things was affecting her in a wholly unexpected way.
To cover her confusion, she looked around her. “It—it appears to be a charming house.”
Will laughed and released his hold on her waist, though he still retained his grip on her hand.
“I trust,” he said, leading her up four short steps and into the next room, “that I know your tastes. But if you find you don’t like it, if you think there are too many stairs, we will
look for another house. I want you to be happy and make a long visit.” Then, inexplicably, his face clouded. “Unfortunately, I won’t be here as much as I hoped.”
“No?” It was ridiculous, Lili knew, to feel so disappointed. “I thought—”
“I asked for leave and I expected to receive it. At the time we first agreed on this visit, there was no reason I knew why I shouldn’t get it. But things have changed. I am needed elsewhere and can’t be spared.”
Lili felt her stomach twist into a hard knot. Did Will know something about the missing Jewel that she and the Specularii did not? If so, in addition to deceiving him, she was going to be expected to spy on him as well. “Something—something has come up?”
“It is only that the queen is so delicate. She must be shielded from every shock, spared every discomfort and inconvenience. Of course, much of this falls on me.”
“Of course,” said Lili, in a doubtful voice. Though she did wonder why Will, of all people, should nursemaid Dionee. “At least, I suppose it must, since you say so.”
They sat down together on a tapestry-work sofa. “Lili,” he said, pressing her hand, “if you want to go home and try this again in the autumn, I will understand. But I really must tell you: I am excessively glad to see you.”
Lili wished fervently that she might believe that. Yet she had come too far to turn back now. “I don’t think that I will go home. I believe I can keep myself—tolerably well amused when you’re not with me. I’m accustomed to making the effort, at least.”
She saw Will cringe at the unintended bitterness in her voice. “This wasn’t how I—” He stopped and shook his head. “There is no use in making excuses, and very little time for it, anyway. I return to the Volary within the hour. If you would like to come with me, you are welcome to do so, though I should think after such a long day—”
But would I be welcome? she wondered. Despite the warmth of his greeting, despite that moment in the hall, Lili found herself doubting that Will really wanted her. And it was true enough what he implied: she was tired and dirty and cold, after two days of travel in filthy weather, after a miserable night spent at a drafty inn. While she had business of her own at the Volary, that business could wait. “No thank you,” she said, with a weary shake of her head. “I think I had rather stay here by the fire and go to bed early.”
It was a strange old house, as Lili discovered the next morning, when she set out to explore it immediately after breakfast. Built halfway up the side of a hill, it was made up of no less than thirteen different levels—one it would seem for each of its major rooms. As a result, she could not go anywhere without first going up, or else going down, at least four or five steps—though there was also, of course, the great rosewood staircase which began in the entry hall and led all the way up, for five long flights, to the very top of the house.
Up under the eaves, she eventually discovered a tiny sitting room, evidently meant for her own use. It was an odd little room, all angles and nooks, a sort of after-thought tucked away in a corner, but it was very prettily and curiously furnished—with lacquer cabinets and teakwood chairs, and an ostrich egg in a golden stand up on the mantle—and it boasted as well a tall dormer window where the roof peaked, which offered a breathtaking view of the city below.
Drawn to that view from the very moment she walked in, Lili was still sitting, an hour or two later, curled up on the window-seat, gazing down and down at a jumbled vista of slates, tiles, gables, chimneys, cats, and rusty iron stove pipes, when the butler came in and announced Trefallon.
Abandoning her vantage point, she rose immediately and awkwardly to her feet, trying to think what her rôle as hostess must be. It was one she had never been called on to play before, as Allora always did the honors at Brakeburn Hall.
“You will forgive me, I hope, for such a late visit,” said Blaise, bowing over the hand she belatedly offered him. His breath came quickly after his climb, but he looked cool and elegant, the very picture of a worldly young gentleman.
Taking in the magnificence of a deer-colored coat and embroidered waistcoat, an intricate neckcloth with a dragonfly stickpin, the diamond and topaz rings that he wore on his very white hands, Lili was astonished and just a bit daunted. As their previous meetings had all taken place in the country, she had never imagined that Will’s best friend cut such a fashionable figure in the city. “Not at all,” she managed to reply. “Will you take a seat—Mr. Trefallon?”
He tilted his head, raised a shapely eyebrow. “With the greatest of pleasure—my dear Mrs. Blackheart. But the last time we met it was ‘Blaise’ and ‘Lili.’ May I venture to ask what has changed in the meantime?”
In spite of her embarrassment she found herself laughing at his quizzical expression. “Of course,” she said, with a rueful shake of her head. “How very stupid of me to forget.”
They each took a seat on a teakwood chair and were easier after that, conversing amiably on a number of subjects—though she did experience some slight difficulty keeping her countenance when Blaise reached into a coat pocket, took out a tiny brisé fan, and began to wave it gently in front of him.
“No doubt,” he said, giving her an arch look over the tortoiseshell sticks, “you are stunned by my splendor. The merest affectation, I do assure you—I can be quite a sensible companion when I put my mind to it.”
“So I have heard,” said Lili, with an answering twinkle. “Will always says—”
“Don’t, I beg you, believe a word of it. If you believe Wilrowan, you’ll think me the dullest dog in the city.” Grown suddenly sober, he closed his fan with a decisive snap. “And the truth is I have come here to offer myself as your escort. I would be perfectly enchanted to take you—well, to take you practically anywhere you’d like to go.”
Lili felt her heart sink. Despite her best efforts, her smile dimmed. “Did Wilrowan send you here to look after me, Blaise?” And she wondered how she could possibly bear it if Will came to regard her only as a burden to pass off on others.
“Not in the least!” said Trefallon, with a very convincing show of surprise. “I volunteered. No, honestly, Lili, I am your most obliged and obedient servant. I hope you don’t mind?”
She forced herself to answer brightly. “How could I mind? And I suppose—” She looked down at her hands, which she was surprised to discover were clenched in her lap. “I suppose since you are Wilrowan’s closest friend, no one would think anything of it?”
“No one will think anything if we are occasionally seen together,” Blaise reassured her. “It is quite the mode for young married ladies to choose their own escorts.” As he pocketed the fan, his manner became coaxing. “Now where may I take you tomorrow? The theater? The opera? The Royal Exchange?”
Lili noticed that he did not propose a visit to the Volary, to pay her respects to Dionee. Had the omission been calculated? “Wherever you please, sir. You will know better than I do what is really worth seeing.”
She hesitated, not wishing to impose on his good nature. “But I do have one suggestion. You must be acquainted with my Cousin Nick—with Lieutenant Kestrel Brakeburn?”
“Of course,” said Blaise, rising smoothly to his feet as an indication that his visit was over. “I will try to bring Nick with me tomorrow—if he is not on duty or otherwise engaged. No doubt we will make a very pleasant party.”
Lili was forced to agree. Though she could not help wondering why he—or Wilrowan—was taking such pains to keep her amused and away from the palace.
Will did not reappear until two evenings later. The weather had cleared, and Lili spent the entire day with Blaise and Nick, riding about in an open carriage, visiting a park, a museum, and the Royal Exchange. But she had dined alone, and feeling weary and dull after such a full day, she decided to retire early.
She was sitting at her dressing table, already down to her green linen stays and starched muslin petticoat, brushing out her chestnut curls, when the door flew open. Expecting the abigail that Will had engaged
, Lili was just turning to dismiss the girl—when in strolled Wilrowan himself.
The hairbrush slipped out of her hands, falling to the table with a loud clatter. At Brakeburn Hall, Will had never appeared while she was still undressing; at Brakeburn Hall he had too much delicacy to ever intrude in this extraordinary fashion.
But this is Will’s house, she suddenly realized. It was Wilrowan’s house, they were his servants, and the big oak bed with the heavy red velvet curtains, that was his bed—at least for the next two months. Inexplicably, Lili felt herself at a great disadvantage.
Will closed the door softly behind him. “I trust,” he said, with a faint touch of sarcasm, “that Trefallon has been keeping you suitably amused?”
“Why, yes,” said Lili, wondering why on earth he should sound so put out, when he was the one who had asked Blaise to escort her. “Blaise Trefallon—and my cousin Nick.”
Crossing the room, Will took one of her hands between his thumb and forefinger, brushed the lightest of kisses across the back. The sensation was so intense, her reaction was so surprising, it was all that Lili could do to maintain her composure. “I stopped in briefly this afternoon, only to learn that you had gone out.”
With an effort, she collected herself. “Oh, dear. If I had known you were coming, I would have—” She heard herself give a light, affected laugh. “But really, there was no particular reason for me to expect you, was there?”
“No reason in the world,” he replied, dropping her hand and taking a step backward. “Except that husbands do, occasionally, spend an afternoon with their wives. But the fact is, I was only here to deliver a message from Rodaric. He wishes to see you tomorrow afternoon.” Again there was that touch of irony. “I trust you don’t already have some more pressing engagement?”
“If I have,” said Lili, goaded by his unpleasant manner, “then I must try to get out of it, mustn’t I!” She picked up her hairbrush again, and ran it through her curls. “A summons from the king should not be refused.”
The Queen's Necklace Page 32