by C. J. Archer
Hammer stalked across the room and slammed his hand on the table near Brant. I jumped but the sergeant did not. "Because the day I woke up, I knew three things," Hammer said. "My name, your names, and my purpose, and that purpose is to serve as captain of the palace guards. I have a feeling that's significant."
They fell silent and even Brant seemed to agree with him, albeit grudgingly.
"I should return to Lady Miranda," I said, rising. "Will you escort me, Captain? I don't want to lose my way again."
Quentin jumped up. "I'll do it."
"No." The captain's quelling glare forced the lad back onto his chair. Hammer strode to the door and held it open for me to go on ahead.
"Thank you, Hammer," I said, passing him.
"I prefer you call me Captain."
I blinked after him as he strode off. "But all the men call you Hammer when off duty in the garrison."
"You are not one of my men." He waited for me by one of the torches. The flames cast patterns of shadow and light over his face that made it impossible to read his expression.
"Very well, I'll call you Captain." I regretted my snippy tone as soon as I heard it. Of course he wouldn't allow me the same familiarity that he allowed his men. Perhaps in time, however… "Hammer is an unusual first name and it doesn't seem to suit you."
His mouth softened. "Perhaps it's normal where I am from."
"Perhaps you have a sister named Wrench and brother named Saw."
He laughed softly, the first I'd ever heard from his lips. His pace slowed, allowing me to easily keep up with his long strides.
"Thank you for telling me your secret," I said. "I know it can't be easy to trust an outsider, but I want to assure you that my father and I are used to keeping details about our patients to ourselves, and this is no different."
He nodded. "Thank you for believing us. I wasn't sure you would."
"Why not?"
"You seem very practical, and this is…"
"Odd?" I glanced at him sideways.
"Very."
I smiled, a little relieved that he was talking to me with ease. "You may find your secret gets out," I told him. "The palace servants may talk to the visiting ones about their memory loss."
"They have been warned not to. They know the consequences of going against my orders."
Consequences? My step faltered and he caught my hand to steady me. His thumb stroked my knuckles and his gaze fell to my mouth.
"Be careful," he said. "If I send you home to your father with scraped knees he'll never allow you to return to the palace."
"True," I said in a small voice. I didn't know if I was attracted to him or afraid of him. I did know that I felt very aware of him, of his heat and size, the scents of horse and leather mixed with his masculine one, and the callused hand that still held mine.
"You do want to come again, don't you, Josie? To see that Lady Miranda fully recovers? And to talk to me?"
"Talk?"
"I can only learn so much from books."
Of course he meant that kind of talk.
I withdrew my hand, relieved that the spell he'd cast over me broke instantly. My father's warning rang in my ears—be careful of these people; we knew nothing about them. If they could be believed, they knew nothing about themselves.
I drew in a breath and chased the threads of our conversation until I found a safer place to resume it. "You didn't answer me in there when I asked if the king had also lost his memory."
He set off along the corridor again, his strides purposeful. "Max answered you."
I picked up my skirts and hurried after him. "Perhaps Max doesn't know the truth."
"And you do? By all means, enlighten me because I am sick of being in the dark." His biting retort came as a shock after the gentleness of his hand caressing mine.
A sensible woman would back down and walk meekly alongside him. But I wasn't always sensible, and I certainly wasn't meek. "I want to hear the answer from your lips, Captain. Has the king lost his memory too?"
"He assures me that he has."
"That's not the same thing."
"You're accusing your king of lying? That could be treason, although I'd have to look it up in the legal texts to be sure," he said bitterly.
"Stop being contrary. I am only trying to help."
"Thank you, but I doubt you can."
"I overheard you and Theodore discussing the king knowing things that he should not if he'd lost his memory too."
His strides lengthened even more, and I had to quicken mine.
"I don't understand you, Captain. You seem to want to confide in me then suddenly you don't. You seem to be willing to trust me then you don't give me proper answers when I ask a simple question."
"Haven't you heard? I am an enigmatic mystery. We all are."
"You are not funny, either."
He continued on and I trailed after him, feeling foolish and lost. I couldn't even find my way through the palace, let alone give medical advice for his memory loss. I didn't want to argue with him, either. I wanted him to trust me and confide in me so I could help him. Help them all.
We moved into the more populated part of the palace and passed maids and footmen carrying trays, some empty, some with sweetmeats, cake or wine for their masters and mistresses. Those wearing palace uniforms quickly stepped out of the captain's way. The visiting servants paid us no mind.
We emerged from the dark service stairwell into the bright ducal corridor that housed the Claypools and Gladstows. The guards stood to attention then relaxed a little when they recognized Hammer. He spoke quietly to them, and I went on ahead to Lady Miranda's sitting room.
Hilda lay asleep on the sofa, her mouth open. Lady Claypool sat in a chair by her daughter's bed, her eyes closed. I leaned over the patient and listened to her breathing. It was regular. Her color was natural too, and she no longer sweated. I made sure she was well covered then settled on a chair on the other side of the bed to Lady Claypool.
I caught the captain watching me from the doorway. He quickly looked away and left altogether.
I did not see him again until the morning, when he came to speak to Hilda. He silently beckoned her into the sitting room then closed the door. A few moments later, I heard her high-pitched voice.
Lady Miranda's eyelids fluttered.
I rose and joined the captain and Hilda. "Shhh," I hissed. "Please whisper or leave altogether."
Hilda buried her fists in her apron at her lap. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Tears pooled in her eyes and she glanced past me to the closed bedroom door. What had Hammer said to her?
He stood by Hilda, his hands at his back, looking fierce and forbidding. It wasn't a good way to get answers from a timid maid.
"A moment outside please, Captain." I stepped past him into the corridor without waiting for his answer.
"Is Lady Miranda all right?" he whispered, closing the door behind us.
I nodded. "Are you questioning Hilda about the night of the poisoning?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Are you learning anything?"
"She says she can't remember." He glanced along the corridor. "Not in the way that we can't remember. She's muddled, that's all."
"Perhaps you're scaring her."
"How?"
"By being stern and grim."
He arched a brow. "Grim?"
"May I suggest a softer approach with the maids? You need to make them feel comfortable, unthreatened."
"How?"
I sighed. "Are you sure you're supposed to be a guard? Perhaps you were meant to be employed in building maintenance but lost your way and woke up in the garrison instead of the workroom."
"And you say I'm not funny."
Whether he meant it as a joke or not, I smiled anyway. His lips quirked. I counted that as a victory.
"Will you watch on as I talk to Hilda?" he asked. "Signal to me if I become too grim."
I went to reach for the door handle but he got to it first. I glanced up and
fell into the deep pools of his eyes.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you last night, Josie. You're trying to help and there's no excuse for my behavior."
"You have a good excuse, as it happens. You must find the poisoner before he strikes again while trying to find answers to your memory loss. It's no wonder you're on edge."
"You're too forgiving." He opened the door and I passed him, very aware that his gaze followed me.
I sat with Hilda on the sofa while Hammer stood by the exit. The heavy curtains remained drawn and someone had lit candles but the room was still dim. The lack of light didn't ruin the elegance of the chamber. There was far too much gilding and color for it to ever be considered dull.
"Hilda, the captain is going to ask you some questions about the night of the poisoning," I said quietly. "I'll stay. Will you answer him as best as you can?"
"Aye, miss."
"Call me Josie. All my friends do."
A self-conscious smile touched her lips. "I'll do my best to remember what happened, Josie."
"Be assured, you are not under suspicion."
"I'm not? Oh, that is a relief." Her shoulders relaxed. "Go on then."
"Did anyone visit Lady Miranda that night?" Hammer asked.
Hilda nibbled her lower lip, leaving tiny teeth marks in the soft flesh. "She didn't want me to tell anyone…"
"Circumstances have changed," I urged her. "It might be important to finding the poisoner. Who visited her?"
"The king. He came after dinner but my lady didn't let him in. She's not like that."
"Did he give her anything?"
"Not then, but later a vase of flowers arrived for her." She nodded at the red and pink arrangement in the large white vase. "The note that came with them said he wanted to apologize for his poor manners and for assuming."
"Did Lady Miranda smell them?" Hammer asked.
"Aye. Why?"
"Did you smell them?"
"Aye." She gasped. "You think they were poisoned?"
"You didn't fall ill, so they weren't. Was anything else delivered to her rooms?
She shook her head.
"Did anyone else come to her rooms? Her parents? A friend? Another servant?"
"No, sir. No one. She has no friends here at court and she has no need of any other servants except me."
It would seem the poisoning hadn't occurred here after dinner. I looked to Hammer. "May I ask Hilda a question?" He urged me on with a nod. "Yesterday you told me there are some who see Lady Miranda as a rival for the king's affections and they're jealous."
"Aye," Hilda said.
"Who?"
She hesitated and for a moment I thought she might refuse to tattle. "Many people, I suppose. Lady Miranda is clearly his favorite and everyone has noticed."
"Are there any who are particularly nasty about her behind her back?"
She looked away "I wouldn't know…"
"I understand your reluctance to tattle, but this is important. I know the servants talk. They must be aware that Lady Miranda was poisoned and some must have suspicions about who did it."
"I've heard them say Lady Lucia Whippler is the king's next favorite and very ambitious she is too. Her maid doesn't like her, and that's damning if you ask me."
"Anyone else?"
"Lady Deerhorn's daughter."
"Lady Violette Morgrave? But she's already married."
Hilda leaned closer. "I heard she hates her husband. I can see why. She's young but he's old and fat and his rotten teeth give him bad breath." She screwed up her nose. "Her mother's maid says she overheard Lady Deerhorn telling Lady Morgrave how to go about seducing the king."
"Seducing him is one thing, but she cannot marry him if she's already married."
"Perhaps she won't be married much longer. Wait and see if her husband suddenly dies. If he's poisoned too, then you'll know your poisoner is Lady Morgrave or her mother."
It wasn't outside the realms of possibility. Lady Deerhorn was ambitious and vain. The only thing she would love more than her daughter being the king's mistress would be for her to become queen. She'd think nothing of a little murder to reach such heights. I remembered when Lady Violette married Lord Mograve. Rumor had it that Lady Deerhorn was against the match but her husband had been friends with the elderly count and insisted. The bride had cried throughout the ceremony.
"What about other enemies?" I asked Hilda. "Does anyone have any other reason to want Lady Miranda dead?"
She shook her head. "None. She's got friends back home, among the village folk, but not here at court. Not since it became clear the king favored her."
I glanced toward the closed door that led to the bedchamber. "What about Lord and Lady Claypool? Are they involved in any disputes with other noble families?"
She lifted one shoulder. "I don't think so."
The door to the bedchamber opened and Lady Claypool poked her head through the gap. Her lips trembled before she schooled her emotions. "She's awake."
I gave her a reassuring smile. "Good. She has slept long enough."
Hilda pushed past me and knelt by the bed. "Oh, my lady, thank Hailia. The merciful goddess answered my prayers."
Lady Miranda rested a hand on her maid's arm. "Good morning, Hilda." Her voice was weak but clear. "Mama?"
"I'm here, my dear." Lady Claypool sat on the edge of the bed and took her daughter's hands. She pressed them to her lips and blinked damp lashes.
"How long have I slept?"
"Long enough, according to Miss Cully," her mother said.
Lady Miranda's gaze shifted to me. "The doctor's assistant. Yes, I remember. Do I have you to thank for my recovery?"
"My father," I said. "He should return shortly. May I check your vitals?"
Her mother moved aside so that I could feel Lady Miranda's pulse and listen to her breathing. "Does your stomach still pain you?" I asked, pressing it gently.
"It's quite all right now. How long have I slept?"
"An entire day and night." I checked her eyes. They were clear and focused. "The danger is over. The poison has left your system. You just need to rest now and regain your strength. Hilda, can you send to the kitchen for a bowl of broth, please."
"Shall I inform the king that you are well?" Hammer asked as the maid left.
Lady Miranda teased the ribbon of her nightdress between her fingers. "Can we delay it?"
Lady Claypool sighed. "My dear, he is the king."
Lady Miranda sighed too.
"Perhaps wait until my father has called," I suggested. "I wouldn't wish to declare you well when you are not."
She gave me a small smile of thanks but it faded when she glanced at Hammer. He stood erect with his hands at his back, his jaw rigid. Lady Miranda's fingers resumed their tugging.
"You do understand my position, Captain," I said. "After all, I'm not qualified. It would be irresponsible of me to declare her ladyship well based on my uneducated opinion."
His eyes tightened at the corners. He could see straight through me. "I agree that it would be inadvisable to give His Majesty false hope," he finally said. "We'll wait until Doctor Cully has called. In the meantime, are you able to answer some questions, your ladyship?"
He asked her whether she'd consumed anything after dinner, and she claimed she had not. Nor had she received any visitors, except for the king and then a footman, who brought the vase of flowers. All her answers matched Hilda's.
"Did you eat or drink anything at dinner that no one else did?" he went on.
"I don't think so," she said. "We all ate from the same serving dishes and our glasses were filled from the same decanters."
"Did anything taste bitter?" I asked.
Her pretty brow creased. "The last glass of wine I drank had a strange aftertaste. Was that the poison?"
"It could be. Direweed has a distinctive taste. Was it earthy?"
"Yes." Her lips moved as if tasting it again.
"Who dined with you?" Hammer asked.
"
The king, Lady Lucia Whippler, her brother Lord Frederick, Lady Violette Morgrave, the duke and duchess of Gladstow, and the duke and duchess of Buxton," she said. "It was an intimate affair."
"The two ducal families and the king's most trusted friends," Lady Claypool added.
"His favorites," Hammer countered. "The king doesn't trust easily and considers no one his friend. Did any of them handle your food or wine glass, Lady Miranda?"
She blinked slowly. "I don't know. They could have, when I left the room briefly. Do you think one of them did it?"
"It's a possibility. Most of those people have a reason to want you…removed. They're jealous of your rise at court."
Lady Miranda's fingers stilled.
"Isn't it more likely that one of the servants administered the poison?" her mother asked. "Perhaps someone paid a footman to slip it into her glass."
"It's possible. I'll question Lady Violette Morgrave and Lady Lucia Whippler first," Hammer said.
"Tread carefully, Captain," Lady Claypool said. "Those ladies' families are manipulative. If they feel threatened, they'll go to the king. He will not like his friends to be accused of murder."
"I'll be subtle."
I bit back my smile but he saw it. He shifted his stance.
"What about the duke and duchess of Gladstow?" he asked.
"What about them?" Lady Miranda said.
Her mother looked down at her lap.
"There are rumors of a feud between your two families that began many years ago," Hammer said. "Is there any substance to them?"
"We hardly know the Gladstows," Lady Miranda said. "Indeed, I'd never met them before we moved into this part of the palace. I think your rumor monger is trying to stir up trouble where there is none."
"Lady Claypool?"
"As my daughter said, we hardly know the Gladstows. I hadn't seen him in years and I'd never met her before this week." Lady Claypool rose. "I must inform my husband of Miranda's recovery. If you don't mind, I think she requires some more rest."
"And a bath," Lady Miranda declared with a wrinkle of her nose.
Hilda returned as we exited the bedchamber. She carried a tray with a covered bowl and a small jug and cup. Hammer put up a hand to stop her.
"The king has a taster," he told her. "He must be summoned."
"One of the dogs was given some in the kitchens," Hilda said. "It didn't fall ill."
