by Erin Beaty
Hoping Ash would appear for another reading lesson, Sage lingered in the library after Clare left to rest before the banquet. She wasn’t sure whether she was ready to confront him, but Sage found she missed his company. Or maybe she just missed how he always seemed glad to see her. She shook her head as she returned a book to the shelf. First Clare, and now Ash. Companionship was hard to accept at first, but having had a taste, she now craved it.
Clare was already dressed when Sage returned to their room. Sage offered to style her friend’s hair and Clare accepted, though she seemed strangely subdued. Silence was comfortable to Sage, and she worked Clare’s sleek brown curls into a fountain knot as she considered how to approach Lieutenant Casseck.
Sage suddenly realized Clare had asked a question. She pulled a hairpin from between her clenched lips. “What was that?”
“I said, do you already have a husband planned for me?”
“I don’t know,” Sage said. Clare’s question didn’t sound designed to gain a favor; it felt like fear. “I don’t really do the deals. I mostly collect information that goes into them. What kind of husband do you want?”
Clare looked down at her hands as they played with the ribbons of her bodice. “Just someone kind, really, and not terribly older than me.”
A memory clicked into place. Clare’s sister Sophia had married Count D’Amiran two years ago, and Darnessa commented once that no respectable matchmaker would’ve matched any girl to that cruel man. Sage pinned the last of Clare’s curls in place. “Does this have anything to do with your sister’s husband?” she asked.
“I guess. She’s not happy.” Clare sniffed like she was holding back tears. “He’s … not kind. And now she carries his child. The second actually.” Her words began to tumble out faster. “He got angry and pushed her down the stairs last year, and she lost the first baby. Now he just hits her.”
Sage sat on the bench and put her hand on Clare’s shoulder, which had begun to shake with the effort it took to keep from crying. Clare looked up at her with the wild fear of a trapped animal. “I didn’t want to come … Father lied … I’m only fifteen…” She sobbed, and without thinking Sage threw her arms around her friend and pulled her close.
A fierce protective feeling flowed through Sage as Clare cried out the fears she hadn’t allowed herself to show before. Sage rocked and soothed her friend. Uncle William may have been a prat, but he never would’ve done such a thing to her. “No,” she whispered over and over. “Never. I won’t let that happen to you.”
Eventually Clare’s sobs tapered off. “But what can you do?” she hiccuped.
“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something. If you’re only fifteen, it’s against the law to match you.”
“But I can’t go home unmatched. Father would kill me.”
Sage tipped Clare’s face up to her own. “Clare, I swear to you: I will not let it happen.”
Clare’s brown eyes widened at Sage’s absolute promise. “I believe you,” she whispered.
“Good. Let’s get your face cleaned up. We don’t want to be late for dinner.”
25
SAGE STAYED WITH Clare most of the evening and kept men away from her, though she still wanted to speak with Casseck. It was a proper banquet in a grand hall with many guests. Though he was already married, Baron Underwood set out to impress the bridal caravan and local nobles with how much he could provide as their host. It was a ripe opportunity, but Sage dropped her usual information collecting in favor of propping up Clare, who looked increasingly weary. When they sat down to dinner, Clare’s rank forced them to separate by several seats, and Sage watched her for signs of another breakdown. With her eyes on her friend, she shoved a forkful of food in her mouth, only to realize the dish was made almost entirely of large, slimy onions. Sage gagged but forced herself to swallow, then rinsed her mouth with wine several times. The combination didn’t sit well in her stomach, and she couldn’t eat another bite of anything, even plain bread.
After dessert, Sage slid back to Clare’s side and began planning an escape for both of them. Lieutenant Casseck was present, but between the alcohol and several sickening, onion-tasting burps, Sage had long abandoned solving any mysteries that night. A pair of young men approached as music started, and she turned her and Clare’s backs to them, not caring if they came across as rude.
Darnessa stopped in front of them. “Is everything all right?”
Sage shook her head. “Clare isn’t feeling well, and now I would rather leave, too. Can you make some excuse for us?” She gave her employer a look saying she would elaborate later, and the matchmaker nodded.
As they made their way to the wide double doors, Casseck intercepted them. “Lady Sagerra, you’re not leaving already? I’d been hoping for a dance, my lady, or just a chance to talk.”
“I’m afraid neither of us is very well tonight, sir. You must excuse us.” Sage made to step around him, but he blocked her way. He wanted to talk to her. It was the opportunity she’d hoped for, but she wouldn’t leave Clare. Casseck eyed her for a few seconds, then signaled another officer to approach.
To Sage he said, “If you aren’t well, perhaps some fresh air in the garden will help.” A soldier with ruddy hair and bronze eyes appeared at Clare’s elbow. “This is Lieutenant Gramwell, my lady.” The young officer bowed and offered Clare his arm.
Clare looked back, but Sage leaned closer and whispered, “He can hold you up better than I can. I won’t let you out of my sight.” Shaking slightly, Clare grasped his arm and let him lead her away. Casseck offered Sage his own, and she took it and followed them outside.
Casseck directed their path to the garden without speaking, letting the distance grow between them and Clare and Gramwell, but keeping them in view. She ought to get Clare back to their room. She looked exhausted.
“Is the lady all right?” Casseck asked.
Sage shook her head with a sigh. “I think this trip has overwhelmed her.”
“And how are you, Lady Sagerra?”
“I…” She glanced around. “I have concerns.”
“Anything I can help you with, my lady?”
Clare appeared to have relaxed a little. Three days of observation had also led Sage to believe Lieutenant Gramwell was a decent fellow. Maybe time with him would make Clare feel more hopeful about her future. “I haven’t seen Private Carter since we arrived,” said Sage. “I hope your captain isn’t displeased with his progress.”
“Not at all, my lady,” he assured her. “Carter is just busy. The captain sent him on a patrol today.”
“Oh?” she said, though she wasn’t surprised. “I thought he only drove wagons.”
Casseck winced. “The captain insists all under his command be competent riders.”
“And fighters,” she added. “Your page told me everyone had combat training, even the pages and cooks.”
There was a pause. “It seems you’ve learned a great deal about the army.”
“Not really.” She shrugged, hoping Charlie wouldn’t get in trouble for telling her so much. “I just knew nothing before this journey.” She tilted her head to look up at him. “Which makes me wonder if I’m wrong when I observe that you soldiers have all been on edge since yesterday.”
Another pause. Lieutenant Casseck was a thinker. “You are astute, my lady, but I can’t say anything about it.”
His sudden tension was contagious. A chill went up her spine as she recalled Ash staring into the woods, ready to fight whatever was out there. “Are we threatened somehow?”
“Possibly. But again, I can say nothing more.”
“I…” She hesitated. “I wish I could help. Being a woman is frustrating sometimes. I feel helpless.”
The shadow that was his face tilted to the side to look down at her. White teeth flashed in the dark as he smiled. “Perhaps if we need some trees climbed, we’ll ask you.”
Sage chuckled. “I suppose your page told you about that.”
“He di
d.” Before she could ask anything more, he said, “Do you know Captain Quinn has a sister your age? I believe she’ll be matched at the Concordium, too.”
Sage wasn’t fooled by the change in subject. She also already knew that from Charlie. “Lucky her.”
Casseck stopped walking. “My lady, have I offended you somehow? Your speech is cold.”
“You’re trying to distract me.” He stiffened and dropped her arm, and she knew she was right. “I’m not a child, Lieutenant. If you won’t be honest with me about this danger, you should know I have a knack for finding things out.”
“I believe you, my lady,” he said quietly. “But you must believe me when I say we don’t fully understand this threat, and I have strict orders not to discuss it with anyone. The captain doesn’t know who he can trust.”
Sage crossed her arms. For someone who held himself apart, Quinn kept a tight rein on everyone. She’d watched him for days now and was always put off by his regal bearing and the way he seemed to rely on Casseck to do all his work. “I wonder about Captain Quinn. Is he really as wonderful as Charlie thinks?”
Casseck pressed his lip together like he didn’t want to smile. “He’s not perfect, no, but no man is.”
“And he’s your best friend.”
That startled him. “How did you know?”
She shrugged and resumed walking. Casseck also admired the captain as much as Charlie did, so his opinion would never be objective. “Just the way you talk about him. Your posture when he’s mentioned. He’s like a brother to you.”
Casseck offered his arm again. “More than my own four brothers.”
Sage took his arm and allowed him to slow their pace. “So tell me about your family.”
26
QUINN SLIPPED INTO the girls’ empty room. There wasn’t much time. Casseck could hold off Starling’s return for only so long. The glow from the hearth cast enough light to locate a candle, and he lit it on the embers. With it he could more clearly see the two beds and trunks at their feet. He knew which trunk was hers by sight.
The lid was locked, so he set the candleholder aside and pulled out a small pick and went to work. A few seconds later it opened, and the captain took a moment to observe how everything was arranged before reaching into the contents to search. What he was seeking lay at the bottom. He leaned down to grasp the large, leather-bound book, catching a whiff of lavender and sage from the fabrics. The scent muddled his thoughts briefly, but he pulled the ledger free, closed the lid, and opened the book on top.
By the light of the flickering candle, he scanned every page of Starling’s writing: names, descriptions, property, likes, dislikes, personalities, diagrams of lineage and marriage connections. Not a word about the army or its movements, and nothing that seemed coded. A tension he hadn’t fully acknowledged began to ease.
Toward the end he came to a section on eligible men, which included his officers. Mouse had told her very little, but the insight and information she’d gained on each of them after only a few days amazed him. If Mouse could get closer to her, she would be incredibly useful around D’Amiran. His mind explored the possibilities of such a source as he flipped to the last written page.
Captain ________ Quinn, born ~488, eligible ~512
1st Army, 9th Cavalry
Parents: General Pendleton Quinn, Lady Castella Carey Quinn
At first he was tickled she hadn’t managed to learn his first name, but his stomach twisted as he discovered how she saw him. Arrogant. Distant. Proud. Secretive. As well as Starling read his friends, Quinn was disturbed by his own portrait. Below was an accurate summary of his career and home. He shouldn’t have been surprised when he saw his sisters listed.
Siblings: Serena ~490 M, Gabriella ~492 (509 C), Isabelle ~493, Brenna ~496, Jade ~497, Amelia ~499
They were all correct. She must have memorized them from her conversation with Charlie. Damn, she was smart. At the bottom was a last note.
Charlten (Charlie) Quinn, page, born ~500
Sweet, idealistic, smart, hardworking, idolizes brother. Training for commission as of 509, comm in ~518, eligible 524
Starling thought ahead.
But what about Starling herself? Quinn frowned and went back to a page he had glimpsed before.
Lord William Broadmoor, Lady Braelaura Fletcher Broadmoor
Jonathan 496, Hannah 498, Christopher 499, Aster 503 (B)
Four children, all young enough to be tutored by Starling. Charlie either had the truth or her story was a well-thought-out fiction. Quinn wouldn’t discount that his brother believed her. Lord Broadmoor’s wife had obviously been born a commoner, but Starling’s last name implied she was related on the other side. She was older than the marriage, which created the possibility she was actually Lord Broadmoor’s illegitimate daughter. Noblemen fathering children with servant girls was fairly common, especially before they settled down or after they had enough heirs—further evidenced by the listing of a bastard child among the Broadmoors. Starling could’ve been foisted off on a family she always assumed was hers and given a name that implied legitimacy. If Sagerra Broadmoor was her name—Lady Jacqueline seemed to think it was not. But Sagerra wasn’t listed with her guardians or anywhere else he could find.
So who the hell is she?
His time was almost up. Frustrated, Quinn snapped the book shut. But the ledger wasn’t dangerous in a military sense, and that had been his main concern. He replaced it in the bottom of the trunk and checked for other books, papers, or hidden compartments. Finding none, he straightened the contents to their original place. Quinn shut and relocked the trunk, then snuffed and replaced the candle before slipping out the door.
He was almost too late. Casseck’s voice echoed down the passage as Quinn ducked into the shadows. The pair of them passed his hiding place, followed by Gramwell and Lady Clare. Quinn smiled to himself. Starling may not be a spy, but he had a feeling the section in the ledger on Casseck was about to get a lot longer.
27
THE OFFICERS ESCORTED her and Clare back to their room, and Sage worried she’d talked too long with Casseck, until she saw the smile on Clare’s face when Gramwell kissed her hand. She’d not misjudged the young man.
They helped each other undress in the light of the low fire, and Clare began making them some tea while Sage pulled out her ledger. It was best to write down what she’d learned while it was still fresh. Clare was bubbling over with details of her conversation with Lieutenant Gramwell, so Sage would take advantage of that, too. It wasn’t until Clare referred to Gramwell by his first name, Luke, that Sage realized just what kind of impression he’d made on her friend.
Sage turned away to hide her smile and grabbed the candle to light it so she could start writing. The wax at the top was warm and soft.
Her smile died. Someone had been in the room.
28
QUINN TAPPED HIS fingers on the table as he waited in his workroom. He wanted her. She was better than Mouse.
But if Starling was in Mistress Rodelle’s employ, he would need the matchmaker’s permission to use her, especially given what—who—he had to hide. He also still didn’t understand who she was, and he needed to.
The words she’d written drummed in his head. Arrogant. Distant. Proud. Secretive.
She wasn’t wrong.
There was a knock on the door and Casseck entered, ushering the matchmaker inside. She was still dressed from the banquet, where the lieutenant had gone to fetch her. He helped her into the seat across from the captain and left them alone. Quinn folded his hands on the table and waited for her to recognize him.
“Thank you for coming, madam,” he said before she could speak. “I apologize for not meeting with you before.”
“I can understand why.” She arched a painted eyebrow at him. “You’re a busy man, Captain.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I need to ask you about Lady Sagerra.”
“Indeed. I have some questions about Ash Carter.”
He flinched. “I’ll explain what I can.”
Her blue eyes narrowed. “You can start with why you are toying with her.”
Quinn shook his head. “I had no desire to toy with her.”
“Really?” She leaned toward him over the table. “Should I bring your actions to the attention of Baron Underwood? Or perhaps your father?”
Ah, straight for the throat. Direct women were a rare breed. “You seem keen to protect her. Are you as protective of all the ladies?”
“Of course I am,” she snapped. “Their parents entrusted them to me.”
“But Sagerra is special.”
“You singled her out, not me.”
“Yes, I did.” Quinn sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I need her. She has a unique position.”
The matchmaker emphasized every word as she said, “And what would that be?”
“She moves easily between the ranks of nobles and commoners.”
“Which apparently is not unique in our party.” Mistress Rodelle smirked a little when he winced.
“She’s also very observant.” He laced his fingers and rubbed his thumbs together, choosing his next words carefully. “I heard a rumor Sagerra is not a titled lady; is that truth?”
“It’s … complicated,” she said, avoiding his eyes.
“Illegitimate?”
“No, a noble’s ward. Common by blood.” The matchmaker paused to watch him, but he kept his face blank. “She works for me as an apprentice, but as you’ve noticed, she can gather quite a bit of information if she plays a lady. Most of the brides resent her inclusion, but they also know she has the power to make or break their matches, so they tread a fine line in how they treat her.”
