by Erin Beaty
Everything about Starling finally made sense. It was a relief to know she’d never truly lied. He tapped his lip, his mind racing. “I think I can work with that. I need information she can acquire.”
“You want her for a spy?”
His mouth tightened. “That’s not my preferred term, but yes.”
She sat up straight. “I’ll not have her used in your soldiers’ games.”
“This is not a game.” Quinn shook his head. “This is deadly serious.” He waited for that to sink in, watching her anger dissolve into fear as he sat unmoving. “I need to know if I can trust you.”
Some of the anger returned to her face. “Trust is a two-way road, Captain.”
“Point taken,” he said. “I will be as honest as I can, but I must keep some secrets.” He paused. “Do I have your silence? What I would tell you cannot go beyond this room.”
The matchmaker scowled. “You have my word on silence, but my own trust I reserve.”
“Fair enough,” Quinn said. “Part of my mission during this escort was to look for signs the D’Amiran family was communicating with Kimisara.”
Her eyes widened. “And you’ve found evidence of this?”
Quinn shook his head. He didn’t understand what the squads his pickets had found meant, and there was no sense in bringing it up until he did. “Worse. The D’Amirans are gathering an army. One strong enough to move against the crown.”
“While half the nation’s nobility is in Tennegol,” she whispered.
“Yes. And we’re the only ones who know.”
“But … your father, the general, the army to the south—”
“Is spread out chasing dozens of Kimisar squads crossing the border.” At least that’s what they were doing the last time he heard from them. “They don’t expect an attack to come from behind. I’d warn them if I could, but I think we’ve been cut off.”
“So we will head back to Crescera, where it’s safe?” the matchmaker asked.
“No. We need to continue on, observing what we can and pretending we know nothing. We’re the only ones who can warn the king.”
She flushed with anger. “You endanger us all by playing hero.”
“What do you think happens if we turn around?” he asked calmly.
The color drained from her face. “They’ll realize we know.”
“And?”
“We become casualties.”
“The first of many. I’m glad you understand this,” he said.
Mistress Rodelle closed her eyes for several seconds, breathing deeply; then she opened them and looked straight at him. “How can I help?”
“I want the ladies blissfully ignorant. Anyone who knows is at risk, and that includes you now. If the duke thinks we’re onto him, everything will be lost.” He took a deep breath. “But I need Sagerra. As a lady, she can observe things we can’t. With your help, I can exploit that.”
Realization dawned on the matchmaker’s face. “You don’t intend to tell her what’s going on.”
“I wish I could, but for her safety and that of others, she must be kept in the dark for now.” Observant as Mistress Rodelle was, she might already suspect Robert was with them. She did not ask, however, and it was better if she didn’t know for sure.
“The less she knows the safer she is,” he insisted. “I can only promise she will know what she must. I’ve no wish to see her hurt.”
She gave him a steady look. “If you continue lying to her, that is unavoidable.”
He looked down at his hands. “Yes, I know. I’ve accepted that. My job isn’t always easy or straightforward. Neither is yours.”
When he raised his eyes again, he found sympathy in her gaze. She sighed. “How do you intend to use her? From where you are, I don’t see that happening.”
“I want to accelerate her friendship with Ash Carter. She needs to trust him and follow his lead.”
Mistress Rodelle shook her head. “She’s too far above him. It already borders on inappropriate and will look suspicious.”
“Exactly,” Quinn agreed. “Every alternative I have draws too much attention to her. No one notices Ash’s movements, which is why he’s so useful to me. They’re already familiar, so if I elevate his status, it will be easier for them to become friends. Effective tomorrow, he’ll be a sergeant, and he’ll no longer drive wagons.”
The matchmaker crossed her arms. “Isn’t Ash Carter the name of the king’s illegitimate son?”
He focused back on her. “So it is. You’re well-informed.”
“Because I know the name of an eligible young man with royal blood? You insult me,” she said.
The woman had been onto him from the start. “I assume that’s why you allowed her to associate with him at all. Does Sagerra know?”
She shook her head. “Her name is just Sage, by the way, and no, she doesn’t. I actually hoped to see if he was a suitable match for her. Had she known, she would’ve ruined the possibility with her own stubbornness.”
Quinn rubbed his face to hide the heat spreading across his cheeks. He had a feeling the woman still wanted to make the match. “I think the sooner she stumbles onto that information, the better. Except for the matching part, of course.” He leaned forward. “But now I need you to tell me as much as you can about her so we can handle her better.”
Mistress Rodelle raised her eyebrows. “How much time do you have?”
29
SAGE WOKE EARLY the next morning, still itching to hit something. She’d gone through her belongings after Clare went to bed, trying to determine if anything had been disturbed. Nothing was precisely out of place, but it felt wrong. She combed through her ledger for signs it had been tampered with, finding two dots of candle wax on pages and a smudge she knew hadn’t been there before. The book was what the intruder had been after.
And it had been Ash Carter.
He’d always been fascinated by the ledger. Before, she assumed it had to do with his inability to read, but in retrospect every minute they’d spent together had been about getting closer to it. And he wasn’t the only one. Lieutenant Casseck had kept her from going back to her room early. She also knew enough about the army to understand neither would have acted without the direction of their captain, whom Casseck had said approved Ash’s charade back on the day they left Galarick.
Sage finished her breakfast quickly and left Clare with a mumbled excuse about going for a walk. She stormed to the garden, hoping to burn off some of her restless energy, but it only reminded her of Casseck walking with her last night. The soldiers were just like the people in Garland Hill—only nice because they wanted something. She’d been a fool not to see it.
Distracted by her thoughts, she turned around a hedge and nearly collided with a man.
“Lady Sagerra,” Private Carter said with an eager smile. “I was hoping to find you for a reading lesson today.”
“I almost didn’t recognize you,” she said, looking him up and down. He wore the all-black clothing of a rider rather than the brown vest and linen shirt she was used to. His hands were scrubbed clean and his black hair had been trimmed, too, making him look older.
Ash grinned and lifted his arms to better show her his uniform. The outfit wasn’t new—the wear in places told Sage it was over a year old at least. Her anger surged. Just how much about him had been a lie?
“I’ve been promoted to sergeant. No more wagons for me.” He dropped his arms. “And I have you to thank for it, my lady.”
“How so?”
The coldness in her voice seemed to catch him off guard, and he took a step back. “Captain Quinn said my effort to better myself made me stand out.”
“And you want to continue that?”
“If your ladyship wishes to continue.” Ash eyed her warily.
“Then there’s no time like the present.” Sage turned on her heel and stalked away as he scrambled to follow. He didn’t try to make conversation as she led him into the castle.
In t
he library, away from the eyes of passing servants, Ash closed the door behind them. “Is something wrong, my lady?” he asked.
“You tell me,” Sage said, walking over to a writing table. “I’d like you to try something before we start.” She pulled a scrap of paper from the stack on a desk and used a stick of charcoal to write two sentences. Then she turned and handed it to him. “Read this aloud, please.”
His dark eyes widened as they fell on her script. There was a tremor in his voice as he obeyed. “I’ve been lying to you. I already know how to read.”
Sage crossed her arms. She’d thought hearing him say it would make her feel better, but it didn’t. “Feel free to explain yourself. Start at the beginning, with the night we met.”
He lowered the paper and swallowed. “I was ordered to observe the ladies.”
That didn’t surprise her at all. “So you’re a spy.”
“Of sorts, my lady.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why spy on us, on me?”
Ash pressed his lips together. “I was to make a connection within the group for Captain Quinn so I could report anything unusual.”
Sage’s stomach twisted. “So that’s what I was.”
“No,” he said quickly, then grimaced. “Well, yes. I didn’t want to use you, but then you offered to teach me to read, and Lieutenant Casseck saw it as an opportunity.” He paused and added, “So did Captain Quinn.”
Her eyes burned. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to know I spent days looking like a fool?”
Ash ducked his head. “Is it any worse than pretending to be illiterate and ignorant? At least your intentions were honorable.”
But they hadn’t been. Sage had wanted to help him, yes, but she’d also wanted information for Darnessa. Another thought occurred to her. “You weren’t just promoted, were you? You were always a sergeant and a rider.”
He nodded. “It’s just easier to move around as a private. No one pays any attention to you.”
She should have suspected that. So many of his mannerisms hadn’t matched such a low rank. But she had liked him too much, and so had never believed he would lie to her.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” he whispered. “I was only following orders. I hated every minute of it. Well…” He looked up with a sheepish smile. “I did enjoy your company.”
How different, really, was he from her? Just because she was good at pulling information from men didn’t mean she enjoyed it. Spirit above, she’d even resorted to manipulating Charlie.
Sage cleared her throat. “That’s not the only thing.” She gave him a piercing look. “Last night someone broke into my room and read through my ledger.”
All the color drained from his face. She’d been right. It was him.
“Why?” She tried to hold on to her anger but only heard hurt in her voice.
Ash held his palms up, pleading. “You asked so many questions. You were always writing observations. To a soldier it looks…”
“Like spying,” she finished. “Especially if that’s what you’re doing.”
He nodded miserably. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to.”
That first night she’d talked about following orders, and he’d been so upset. She had thought he was overreacting, but now she realized she’d hit a nerve. What else had the captain made him do?
“I wanted to clear your name, though,” he said. “And with what the captain discovered, we needed to know for sure.”
Sage straightened. Casseck had dodged her questions last night, but here was an opportunity to force some answers. Then she winced. Who was the real manipulator here? “I already know there’s some kind of danger. What’s going on?”
He shook his head. “I can’t tell you. I don’t even know everything. My job was just to find someone to trust.”
“How can I trust you, Ash Carter? You lied to me for days.”
His shoulders sagged. “I suppose you can’t.”
Sage felt a sudden pity. He’d failed in his mission, though he’d only followed orders. “Why was the captain looking for someone to trust?” she asked quietly.
“He wanted a contact we could come to if there was trouble or who could find me if they heard something strange.” He looked down at the crumpled paper in his hand. “But you’re right. I ruined that. I’m sorry.” Ash took a step backward. “If your ladyship will excuse me, I’ll leave now.”
“Wait,” she said, guilt welling up inside at the awareness of her own lies. This would be so much easier if she could tell him she was just as common as him. But would they still want her if they knew she wasn’t a lady? “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
Ash shrugged. “I still have time to make friends with one of the maids. It will just be harder now that I’m riding again.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, fearing how Quinn might react if Ash failed. “I’ll be your contact.”
He brightened, dark eyes rising to meet hers. “You’re not angry, my lady?”
She scowled, though her anger had pretty much dissolved. “I didn’t say that. You know your captain could’ve just asked me what I was writing himself or explained what he needed.”
“He never meant to hurt you,” Ash said, taking a few steps closer. He stood straighter, taller. “I was to pass on his apology for my deception.”
“Hmph,” she said. Sage furrowed her brow as she looked up at him. “So you were going to tell me the truth at some point?”
He nodded. “I was going to tell you tomorrow.”
“How? Weren’t you going to be riding rather than driving?”
A handsome smile spread across his face. “I was given permission to ride with you, if you were agreeable.”
She felt herself smile back, though she knew Quinn wouldn’t have allowed such a thing unless it gave him what he wanted from her. “I’m not used to being called agreeable, but if it gets me off the wagon, you can call me anything you want.”
30
AFTER LUNCH AND a much-needed nap to make up for such a restless night, Sage went looking for Darnessa and found her embroidering in the sitting room of her suite.
“How is Clare?” she asked before Sage could start.
“Oh,” said Sage, scrambling to remember what Darnessa meant. “Better. This trip is a little much for her, I’m afraid. I have to do some thinking yet, but we need to discuss her future before we get to Tennegol.”
Darnessa shrugged. “Very well, you can get back to me. Have you talked to Ash Carter lately? I haven’t seen him much since we arrived.”
Sage chewed her lip. “He’s been promoted, so he has new duties.” The matchmaker didn’t need to know he was a sergeant all along.
“Indeed? Anything to do with you and your lessons?”
It was too casual. Darnessa was up to something.
“He seems to think so,” Sage said. “He won’t drive a wagon anymore, and he’s offered to teach me to ride as a thank-you.”
“I suppose that sounds fair.”
Sage already knew how to ride quite well—Uncle William had been surprisingly open-minded and had even taken her hunting a few times—and she’d framed it that way to make Darnessa think Ash owed her something. Still, she’d expected some resistance. “I didn’t think you would approve.”
“Why not?” said Darnessa. “Ladies ride horses all the time, and I rather like the extra room to stretch out in the wagon.”
“Yes, but riding with a peasant?”
Darnessa peered at Sage over the wooden hoop. “Is that what he told you about himself?” She looked back down and shook her head disapprovingly. “A handsome boy speaks to you in half-truths, and you believe him? You must be losing your touch, apprentice.”
The matchmaker’s willingness to let her ride with Ash left a bad taste in her mouth, but Sage left without saying anything more. Darnessa was manipulating her. She wanted Sage to spend time with Ash. And there could be only one logical explanation: the woman was trying to match he
r. She wanted it bad enough to let Sage back off from acting like a lady. That might not have bothered Sage—she wanted to spend time with Ash, too—except there was something else about him. Something Darnessa wanted her to discover.
So Sage went in search of the one person she thought might tell her. She found Charlie near the kitchens, ferrying food and supplies to the wagons, and she dropped in beside him and offered to help. It took some sideways questioning, but the page let enough information drop by the time they returned to the kitchen. After another round-trip, this time carrying a bag of apples, she made her way back to her room, feeling dizzy.
Spirit above, it explained everything—Ash’s refined speech, the way he dropped formalities, his frustration with being ordered around … and Darnessa’s attitude.
She stared at the hearth fire, letting the low, oscillating flames soothe her chaotic thoughts. The matchmaker couldn’t help it, she supposed. Ash was the only man Sage had ever shown any interest in, so naturally the woman assumed it meant they should be paired. But Darnessa didn’t know Ash spent time with her only because Quinn ordered him to.
A coldness swept over Sage. If Ash did have any interest in her, it would vanish as soon as he found out she wasn’t a Concordium bride—she wasn’t even a lady. He could have anyone he wanted. Even Lady Jacqueline wouldn’t turn him down.
No, Darnessa was a fool. Sage had nothing to offer him.
Except whatever help the soldiers needed. And friendship.
Yes, she could do that.
Meanwhile, she was obligated to do her job. Sage pulled her ledger from the deepest layers of her trunk and flipped to the entry on Captain Quinn. With fingers that trembled, she gripped the quill and wrote on the blank page opposite.
Ash Devlinore “Carter” (B) born ~489
Sergeant, 1st Army, 9th Cavalry
Father: King Raymond Devlin
Sage sat back as the dinner bell’s summons echoed off the stone walls and into the window. She didn’t think she could bear writing anything more that night, so she tucked the book back in her trunk under the breeches at the bottom. Suddenly she remembered the matchmaker’s knowing smile when they parted earlier, and a sly smirk of her own twisted her mouth.
