The Elusive Earl (Saints & Scoundrels)

by Michaels, Maddison

  “Not your place?” Dorentia roared, puffing out his chest as he strained to lift his heavy frame from the chair. “You were sent to protect the Principessa!”

  “Oh, I am protecting her, cousin.” Alessandro turned sharply and strode over to Dorentia. “You are under arrest, Lord Dorentia.”

  “What?” Dorentia spluttered, balling his fists by his side. “You cannot arrest me.”

  “I can, and I am.” Alessandro retrieved the note the earl had given him earlier and held it up. “Evidence, cousin, of your perfidy. A note signed by yourself ordering the capture and death of the new Principessa for one hundred silver pieces.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about…” Dorentia glanced desperately between the Prince and Lord Mondesta.

  Lord Mondesta rose and took the note from Alessandro, his eyes quickly assessing the contents. “The Captain speaks the truth.”

  “I have never written any such note.” Dorentia went to take a step toward the Prince, but Alessandro hauled him back.

  “Guards,” the Prince called to the men at his back. “Escort Dorentia down to the dungeons.”

  “You can’t do that, Uncle,” Dorentia pleaded as the two guards took ahold of both of his arms and began dragging him out of the room. “Please, Uncle, please, no!”

  The Prince breathed out a sigh of relief as the door closed behind Dorentia and the guards. “One wonders how my darling sister had such a horrid child who has grown into such an equally horrid man. I feel I have failed him.”

  “Some men are born evil, my liege,” Lord Mondesta’s voice was sad. “What, though, of the Garendetta’s pursuit of the Principessa?”

  Alessandro explained to the two men of the situation with the Principessa’s cousin and of the Garendetta’s involvement in the events. He also detailed succinctly the traitor Piero’s involvement in the matter, and Alessandro’s own failure to recognize the man’s betrayal in time.

  When he was done, he looked between the two men who had both been like fathers to him ever since he had lost his own over twenty-five years ago. They now each wore similar expressions of concern on their faces.

  “We did know about the situation involving her cousin,” the Prince said.

  “Yes,” Lord Mondesta agreed. “My men informed me of his capture and his escape.”

  “He has escaped?” That news was new to Alessandro.

  “Yes,” Lord Mondesta confirmed. “But apparently, he took something with him that was very precious to the group’s leader. Now, all of their efforts are focused on retrieving whatever it was that Mr. Penderley took. So, the Principessa may not be their priority at the moment. Though, once they find out she is your granddaughter, my liege, then that may change.”

  The Prince’s hands tightened around the arms of his chair. “We must get her to the palace and to safety.”

  “I have left a contingent of my men to guard her. She is safe for the moment,” Alessandro assured them.

  “What of this husband of hers?” Lord Modesta asked. “When did they marry in England? And could he simply be using her to gain a kingdom?”

  Alessandro shook his head. “No. The earl is definitely not a man to do such a thing. I believe he is very wealthy in his own right.”

  Lord Mondesta flicked back a lock of his dark hair that had fallen across his forehead, smoothing it back down across the top of his head, which Alessandro realized in some surprise was beginning to streak heavily with white strands. Come to think of it, the man looked about ten years older than when Alessandro had seen him last only a few weeks ago. Clearly, the situation was taking its toll on them all.

  “We must also stop the Garendetta from finding the treasure,” Lord Mondesta added. “Because once they find Mr. Penderley and retrieve whatever it is he took, their attention will return, as it always does, to finding King Aleric’s remains.”

  “I have men looking after that situation,” Alessandro said.

  The Prince stood.

  Lord Mondesta quickly followed suit, his athletic frame accomplishing the task with ease compared to Dorentia’s earlier efforts. Alessandro smiled. Lord Mondesta would be highly insulted to be compared to the fool.

  “I must go and meet my granddaughter and her husband,” the Prince stated. “Have my horse prepared, please, Alessandro.”

  “You cannot do such a thing, your highness,” Alessandro implored. “You must rest. They will come to you eventually.”

  The Prince arched his eyebrows, and for a moment, Alessandro could see where the Principessa got her stubbornness from.

  “I must rest?” the Prince asked. “Why must I do that? Do you think I am too old to make such a trip into my own town, on my own horse?” The Prince glared at him with an extremely haughty look on his face, all but daring Alessandro to contradict him.

  Lord Mondesta coughed hastily, covering up a laugh, Alessandro was certain.

  “No, Your Highness,” Alessandro tried to stay calm. “But I think it is best if I return with the Principessa, while you stay and rest here.”

  “Ha! Rest? You do think I am feeble!” the Prince derided. “I am still in charge around here, and I am not asking for my horse to be made ready; I am commanding it. Lord Mondesta, you will see to it immediately.”

  “Of course, Your Highness,” the man replied before bowing and striding from the room.

  Now that they were alone, the Prince sank back down onto his chair.

  “You’re being stubborn,” Alessandro wasted no time in telling him bluntly.

  The Prince sighed. “I know, but I must see her. I must make amends for how I handled the situation with her mother.”

  “She will forgive you,” Alessandro said. “She has a very kind heart.”

  “I hope so, Alessandro. I do hope so.” The Prince rubbed his temple briefly. “Then, of course, we must deal with the Garendetta. Tell me, is the treasure in danger of being found?”

  Alessandro was silent for a minute. “Yes, I believe it may be.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Bree couldn’t help but be surprised as Daniel deftly followed her from the ledge and shimmied down the pipe to land nimbly on his feet on the soft garden bed below. The man was as big as an ox but so athletic and graceful at the same time. The combination was intoxicating.

  Her heart fluttered when he flashed her an easy grin. As much as he played havoc with her senses, she had to admit he was a very fine specimen. Particularly looking happy and carefree as he was now. An expression, when Bree thought about it, that she’d never really seen him wear before.

  He grabbed her hand and led her through the inn’s back garden. They dashed through a small gate and then emerged out into the alleyway behind.

  She felt his hand squeeze hers as they approached the entrance to the main street. The soldiers Alessandro had left to guard her had dismounted from their horses and were positioned around the entrance to the inn; some were even across the street. Seeing all of them alert and standing at attention was an impressive sight. Several of the town’s young girls thought so, too, as they continually paraded past the men.

  “When we duck out into the street, I want you to stay in front of me but close,” Daniel said. “With those girls trying to gain their attention, hopefully the soldiers won’t even notice us, but if they do, then I should offer some measure of protection from their eyes.”

  Bree stayed near him as they turned into the main street, then, as he instructed, she darted in front of him, his back effectively shielding her from view of the soldiers.

  Briskly, they marched up the hill, and she did her best to avert her head away from any of the townspeople paying her slightly too much regard. After all, she doubted it would be long before Alessandro returned and realized they were gone.

  Thankfully, no soldiers or townspeople called attention to them as they approached a street sign labeled Via Isonzo. Daniel said little to her as they turned into the street and hurried down the cobble-lined road.

  The buildi
ngs were rather quaint in this part of town and all looked to be in excellent repair and in a state of cleanliness. Until they came upon one with several inches of dirt covering whatever it was that was supposed to be on display in the shop window.

  Bree glanced up at the wooden board hanging above the door. They had arrived at Mr. Tarboli’s store. A sense of apprehension stole through her. “You don’t think he’ll be dead like Mr. Bartardi was, do you?”

  Daniel grimaced. “Hopefully not.”

  Without warning, the door swung inwards, and a man who was a great deal shorter than Brianna beamed at them. “Welcome to my store!” His voice was warm and friendly, and his English was excellent, a trait most antiquities dealers shared, as a large portion of their clients were wealthy Englishmen.

  “I have many fascinating Roman antiquities,” Mr. Tarboli continued, “that would please even the most discerning of collectors. Do you like the Roman period, my lady?”

  “I do,” Bree replied. “In fact, my husband and I particularly like the period of Roman history where the Visigoth King Aleric sacked the city and took a fortune’s worth of jewels and antiquities with him.”

  Mr. Tarboli’s grin disappeared in an instant. “I am sorry, but we have nothing from that time period.”

  He began to close the door, but Daniel stuck one of his boots in the opening.

  “Come, Mr. Tarboli,” Daniel said. “Cosenza is the reputed resting place of the Great King Aleric and his treasure, yet you say you have no antiquities relating to the era?”

  “None at all,” the man was too quick to reply, his efforts in still trying to close the door futile.

  “Why is it that I don’t believe you?” Daniel remarked.

  “It is a dangerous time to be asking about such things.” Mr. Tarboli’s voice was edged with exasperation. “Trust me, it will be safer if you stick to a different period of history, for lately, those asking about that specific era have disappeared. And I don’t want certain people to think I’m helping anyone else. Now, please go away.”

  “Mr. Tarboli, we need your help,” Bree implored.

  “I’m not in the helping business,” he very curtly replied, a pistol appearing through the opening of the door. “Now, I suggest you leave.”

  Daniel tsked, and before Bree could even blink, he pulled the pistol out from Mr. Tarboli’s grasp. He flicked open the chamber of rounds. “Empty.”

  “Well, it usually works as a deterrent,” Tarboli’s voice whined from behind the wood. “Can I have it back? You have no idea how merciless the antiquities collecting world can be.”

  “If you share some information with us, I shall return it to you,” Daniel informed him.

  Tarboli’s eyes narrowed in speculation. “What sort of information?”

  “Everything you know about Travis Penderley,” Daniel said.

  “Blast it!” Tarboli swore. “I knew Bartardi would get me into trouble one of these days. I never should have agreed to help him and his friend, this Travis Penderley you are asking about.”

  Slowly, the door to the shop swung open, and Tarboli stood there with a mutinous but accepting expression on his rather small face. He used his knobby fingers to gesture them inside.

  Bree walked in first, followed by Daniel. Tarboli swiftly shut the door behind them and slammed not one but three iron bolts into place.

  He turned back to face them. “Antiquity collecting is a very cutthroat business indeed. One can never be too careful.”

  “Yes, it is dreadful, is it not?” Bree commiserated with him, knowing full well the perils that collecting entailed and the great lengths that some rather zealous collectors went to to secure an item that had been buried for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. “Why just the other week, my cousin and I had to smuggle—”

  “Perhaps we should ask him more specifics regarding Travis, as opposed to swapping stories of collecting?” Daniel suggested.

  Bree shot a slight glare at him. Though, he did actually have a point. Darn it.

  “Your cousin is Travis Penderley?” Tarboli looked at her with renewed interest. “That would make you the Miss Penderley everyone has been looking for. Our long lost Principessa. Can it really be? How fascinating. There are a lot of people chasing you, my lady.”

  “And what do you know of that?” Daniel asked.

  He shrugged. “I’ve heard whispers. And in all honesty, I would prefer to have you both out of my shop, sooner rather than later. Wouldn’t want the wrong people to know I was helping the Principessa.”

  “Reluctant though it is,” Daniel added.

  “It is that. Now, come with me.” Mr. Tarboli rushed past them and down the corridor. “I don’t have much time to talk, as I am expecting a very important collector shortly.”

  They followed him into what had to be his office, though it was rather hard to tell, with all of the mounds of paper cluttering his desk and the surrounding floor. There were also various urns, statues, and odd pieces of antique furniture jumbled around the room, too, with a healthy layer of dust on everything.

  Tarboli motioned for them to sit on the two seats in front of his desk, which, happily, were free of any items, while he himself sat behind his desk on a chair of rather Goliath proportions. He looked dwarfed by it and not particularly comfortable either, as it was made all from hardwood.

  “Now, you have two minutes to ask your questions,” Tarboli said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do hurry up.”

  Daniel, in response, wore a rather amused expression on his face, for not too many people had the temerity to try to bully Lord Thornton into doing anything. She had tried often in the past with little success, and honestly, the man was more likely to dig in his heels with such demands, rather than capitulate to them.

  “What part did you play in Travis Penderley’s kidnapping?” Daniel asked rather casually.

  Immediately, Mr. Tarboli’s eyes widened. “Why, how dare you? I had nothing to do with such a terrible thing.” He stood. “I think you had both best leave right this instant.”

  “Sit.” Daniel’s voice boomed across the room, brooking no argument.

  Tarboli sat back down straight away and tugged at the collar of his jacket. “I really have no idea what you are talking about.”

  Bree glared at him. The man was lying through his teeth.

  “Mr. Tarboli, if you don’t start telling us what you know,” Daniel’s voice was completely matter of fact. “I am going to ensure that all and sundry hear how helpful you have been in providing me with information about the Garendetta and the kidnapping of Travis Penderley.”

  The man’s eyes all but bulged from his head. “But you can’t do such a thing. I haven’t told you anything… You cannot lie and say that I have. I will deny such claims!”

  Daniel shrugged. “Do you think the Garendetta will care if you deny anything or not when they hear the rumor that you are selling them out, so to speak?”

  “They will kill me!” Mr. Tarboli’s voice was edged with hysteria. He turned to Bree. “Please, my lady, you cannot let him do such a thing.”

  Bree smiled gently at the man. “Then you had best start talking, hadn’t you?”

  Mr. Tarboli’s eyes darted back and forth between them before he slumped back in his seat. “Oh very well. But I beseech you.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “You cannot tell anyone that I have spoken to you.”

  “Tell us truthfully what you know, and we shall not tell a soul,” Bree assured him.

  Mr. Tarboli buried his head in his hands before emitting a long sigh. He peered back up at them. “About three weeks ago, I received a letter from another antiquities dealer in Naples, Mr. Bartardi. He said he was translating some journals for a Miss Penderley and asked me to decipher some sentences from it that had been written in an ancient language. He then said that Miss Penderley’s cousin, a Mr. Travis Penderley, would be arriving soon to collect my translation.”

  “Why would Bartardi send them to you?” Daniel asked.
>
  Mr. Tarboli drew himself up, looking rather miffed at the question. “I am considered one of the foremost experts in deciphering the ancient Eastern Germanic language of the Goths.”

  “What did the writing say?” Daniel said.

  Tarboli began drumming his fingers across the top of the desk. “Well, none of it really made any sense, actually. In English, it roughly translated to ‘If you cannot return from whence you came, another escape lies in wait, if you follow the silver flame’.”

  “And you told the Garendetta about the journals,” Daniel said.

  “I had to, or they would have killed me.”

  “That’s inexcusable!” Bree declared. “You’ve placed my cousin’s life in jeopardy to save your own hide?”

  “As I said, I had to,” Tarboli replied, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

  “What happened after Travis arrived?” Daniel asked.

  Mr. Tarboli eagerly swiveled his attention back to Daniel. “I did warn him to leave as he could be in danger. But he did not listen, and they kidnapped him.”

  Bree shook her head. “Or you told them about him and his discovery.”

  Tarboli placed a hand up to his heart. “I would never do such a horrid thing,” he professed, sitting straighter in his chair. “Now, I believe that is well past the allotted two minutes of time I gave you. If you would give me back my pistol and be off, I would be most grateful.”

  “Where do we find the Garendetta?” Daniel stood, bracing his hands on the desk. Tarboli shrunk back in his seat.

  “You don’t find them. They find you,” Tarboli spluttered. “And trust me, they have eyes everywhere. Even here in Cosenza, where they don’t have a stronghold, yet.”

  “Where did they take Travis, then?” Daniel sounded as if he was beginning to lose his patience with the man.

  Tarboli cringed. “I don’t know. Truly, I don’t. I have heard rumors they have a base in the Malavicina Forest, just between here and the Duke of Siprezino’s lands to the east of Cosenza, but honestly, I am not certain.”