by Guy Antibes
“I always wanted to trap you in your bedroom,” Klark said. He grinned at her.
“Taking advantage of a wounded girl? I don’t think that’s quite your style,” she said gritting her teeth as she stood while he grabbed towels from her bath.
He looked at her and became serious. “You could have gotten killed.”
“I think that was their idea, Klark. West gave each man an order to dispatch me. If I hadn’t come in armed with that gun, I don’t know if I would have survived. He evidently didn’t like my proposal modifications—but at least we know the gun works. Rester Silver is dead. One shot.”
“How far away was he?”
“A few feet. A handbow would have been sufficient, but I didn’t have one. If I weren’t standing against the wall, the explosion from the gun would have thrown me down. I should have remembered about the recoil.”
Klark walked to the window and looked out. “We’ll remove the two men, but West got away again. I don’t think you’re safe here.”
“I don’t think I’m safe anywhere,” Sara said. “Not in Obridge, not at Brightlings, not at the mines. Trouble seems to follow me and I’ve killed another human being— one who I knew.” Tears began to flow unbidden in her eyes. Another nightmare. This time Rester Silver’s shocked face would join the assayer to haunt her dreams.
“I’ll get a doctor,” Klark said.
“No, go to West’s house and see if you can catch him before he flees.” Sara wanted the man caught in the worst way. She didn’t fear him before, but after the evening’s action, she did now. The man’s commands were so devoid of decency. ‘Kill her,’ just the casual comment made her shiver. He said it as if he might have been asking someone to close the door. If only she had the strength to push in the knife.
Willa walked in followed by a maid carrying a steaming bowl of water with towels hanging from her arms. “Out young man. Go and find the leader. I’ll take care of Sara. Leave us.” When Willa took command, no one wished to stay. Klark kissed Sara lightly on her lips as she lay on blood-soaked towels and left.
“They’ve taken the two dead men out into a carriage and two of Klark’s men are helping the other servants clean the library. That crazy man destroyed your slateboard—such a maniac. He stomped on the pieces of stone, yelling at the top of his lungs.”
The pain began to get worse for Sara. “It’s starting to hurt.” She could only croak it out.
Willa pulled up her dress and looked at the wound. “Your wound isn’t too deep, but it will need stitches, Sara. Stay still while I wash the blood away and survey the damage.” The hot water felt good on her skin. “Fetch a big needle and thick thread.” Willa said to the maid, and then turned to Sara. “I’ve helped stitch plenty of thrown riders at his lordship’s estate. We don’t have to worry about you showing a scar there.”
~
Sara woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. The last thing she remembered was Willa pouring liquor down her throat before doing some sewing. She put her hand to her hip and felt the bandage. She had damaged her other hip when Anton and she were kidnapped last spring. Her wrists still hurt, but not as bad as last night when they took all of the shock of her assailant’s downward slash.
“Good! You’re up.” Willa said as she walked into the room. A man followed with a bag. “This is Doctor Wheateater. He’ll see what kind of a job I did last night. Her ladyship insisted, your Excellency.” Willa curtseyed and as she left the doctor’s line of sight, gave Sara a wry smile.
The doctor felt her wrists and re-bandaged her hip. At least she didn’t have to remove her smallclothes. “That was a serviceable job,” he said. “I’ll be by in two weeks to take out the stitches. In the meantime, I’ve given Miss Waters some healing salve. It will help the skin knit and stave off infection. You should heal quickly. There isn’t a lot of stress to the skin in the hip area. Your wrists seem to have only suffered shock. A quick blow can do that, like you did last night when you fell in the kitchen.” He mumbled a few other things that Sara didn’t care to understand and left.
Willa came back into the room.
“I fell in the kitchen?” Sara said.
“That’s the story. You were in the kitchen cutting bread for a late night snack when you slipped with the knife in your hand. The knife cut through your nightgown and you fell, hurting your wrists.”
“Then why am I still wearing my dress?” Sara said.
Willa colored. “I have no idea, your Excellency.” Sara threw a pillow at her, wincing.
“Your friend called this morning to make sure your weapon and the ball things were still in your possession.”
Sara saw the two velvet bags sitting on her writing table. “They are.”
“Now your old knife has killed two men.” Willa said. “I couldn’t stand to see the man raise the sword. All I could do was stick the knife through his back where I thought his heart would be. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. That weasel West cowered behind a table, waiting for his chance to run away.”
“You saved my life, Willa. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Willa snorted. “I can’t say what might have happened if you hadn’t returned with enough arms for a battalion.” Her eyes drifted to the two bags and shivered. “I imagine that thing is some kind of a secret weapon.”
“I think it would be better for you not to tell Plant about it. In fact, please don’t. The world will know about those soon enough. So what happened to make him get so upset?”
“West wasn’t getting the answers he wanted from her ladyship,” Willa said. “Those other men were both fanatics, as well. I could tell they weren’t hired thugs.”
“I know. I knew the redhead at school in Obridge. He has tried to kidnap me before. He won’t again.” Sara felt tears in her eyes. “I didn’t want to kill him, but what could I do?”
Willa patted Sara’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to kill my victim either, but you have to do whatever it takes to save your own skin when threatened. Remember, they had no compunctions about trying to kill us.”
“I didn’t want to pull that trigger, but I had no intention of dying last night,” Sara said. “I’ll have to get over it.” She pressed her lips together. “And I’ll have to reconstruct the project. I have no idea how much they’ve destroyed.”
~
Sara found Grianna in the library, staring at the brighter spots in the carpet. “It’s odd that after the carpets were cleaned, the blood spots turned out being lighter. I’ll have them taken out and cleaned properly. I’d rather not have any reminders of what happened,” Grianna said, clutching her robe.
“Are you all right?” Sara said. She wore a robe over a nightgown because of her hip wound. This was the first time the two of them had spoken since before the incident.
“I think so. What a ghastly experience!” Grianna put her hand to her mouth and her eyes watered. “West was so mean.”
“He was a professor at Tarry Abbey College and he’s a rebel. I knew him in Shattuk Downs, but I didn’t tell you. I had hoped you would have sent him on his way.”
“I know he was an academic, but I didn’t know he was a, a rebel,” Grianna said, putting her head back and closing her eyes. “What have I done?”
Sara couldn’t believe Grianna’s poor judgment. “Now you know he plays for keeps. I’ve had my issues with him before.”
Grianna’s eyebrows rose.
“He kidnapped me once, I escaped. I confronted him later and gave him his limp.” The memories actually gave Sara some strength. This was her third encounter with the man, yet he still represented a threat to her. She needed a change of subject. “Now let’s make some sense of our slateboard.”
Shards of slate and papers lay in a pile against the wall. The fireplace poker lay in its midst. “It looks like rubble, but they didn’t rip up any of the papers. Let’s get a couple of maids in here and we can put it back together.” Sara worried that they would have to start over.
Grianna stood and adjusted her robe. She had come down with her hair done and her face made up. Sara had just pulled hers back and had Willa tie it back with a ribbon. He’d just have to take her as she was.
Northcross rushed into the room. He didn’t wear his wig. “I’m so sorry, Lady Grianna, Countess Sara.” He nodded at both. “The man who attacked you is under investigation for crimes against the Crown. He has proven adept at eluding us and…” He let his head drop. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, although I warned the Countess and knew that she has certain abilities to protect herself, I didn’t imagine she would have to so soon.”
“It’s quite all right, Duke,” Grianna said. Sara could see the Duke’s dissembling in her home tickled her hostess.
“I am especially appreciative of your concern, Duke Northcross,” Sara said. “Your assistance yesterday made the difference between life and death.” Grianna looked astonished as Sara explained, “He warned me that West was on the loose. When I discovered the front door locked after Willa had said she would leave it open, I knew something wasn’t right. I’m just glad that Willa and I have had modest training with knives.”
“Yes. I know that you two were doing your exercises,” Grianna said. She didn’t continue to say that the practices were behind her back. Sara felt a little guilt, but only a little. The training might have made the difference between success and fatal failure.
Northcross looked a little confused. “May I ask what happened?”
Telling him the truth seemed the best choice. “West came for some reason and Lady Worthy was about to tell me.”
Grianna looked a little surprised. “He demanded to know how the project was coming and why Sara had come to meddle. He did use the term ‘meddle’. He helped me write the first draft and Sara had shown me where it lacked certain aspects.” She cleared her throat. “When he saw the proposal outline on the slateboard that Sara created, his face turned red and he went crazy and finally hitting me so hard that I fainted. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you. When I emerged from my faint, your men, I presume, were carting away the bodies of his two henchmen. West, I understand his name to be now, had bolted, but I’m fine, now. There’s a bruise on my face and one or two that no one will ever see.” She restrained a smile, but Sara could see it in her eyes.
“One more question. How did you meet West?”
Grianna played with the hem of her robe. “I met him at a party. He introduced himself as Marton East. I attend parties often.” She gave Northcross a sideways glance that spoke of a little guilt. “He had heard of the Women’s College and told me he had been an academic at one time and asked if he could assist. If he was an academic, well, who was I to refuse?”
Northcross just glared at her, and then he turned to Sara.
“When I returned from dinner with Klark, the door was locked. Willa generally leaves it open, so I thought it odd, but went to the back. A servant, who had taken refuge in the cold, told me about the men so I sent him to summon the guard. I looked in the crack of the partially open door to this room and West was ranting and raving. Willa Waters, the housekeeper sat in that chair,” Sara pointed to a side chair, “guarded by one of West’s men, and Lady Grianna had already fainted. I think Mr. Brownhill told you the rest.”
Northcross nodded. “Indeed he did. I think you are still at risk, Countess. I know of a house you can stay that is more protected than this one. I suggest that you continue to work on your project there until we apprehend West or are assured he is out of Parth. Will you agree to a relocation, Sara?”
Lady Grianna blinked when Northcross used her first name, but Sara didn’t mind. He was giving her a choice and she knew it had to do with their awkward interview. “I will. Can Lady Grianna come, as well?”
“There is no reason why Lady Grianna can’t continue her life as it is. The damage is done regarding the project, however, I believe the man has reason to carry a grudge against you.”
“I know he does.” Sara pursed her lips. “Lady Grianna, can I borrow Willa? I’ve gotten quite used to her.” She sneaked a glance at Willa who had remained in the room. Willa nodded with a controlled smile.
“Of course, anything Sara.”
“That’s settled then. The house will be ready in two days. That should give you enough time to prepare for the move. Until then I’ll have men posted front and back.” Duke Northcross gave both of the ladies bows and just about left the room, but stopped and turned. “Countess, I heard you were wounded last night. You look well and I wish you a quick recovery.” He gave her another bow and left the house.
Grianna cooled her face off by waving her hand. “I never thought the Duke would darken my doorway again once Lord Worthy passed away. My, what a man of action! With all of his affairs of state, he came to my house. Oh, my friends will be jealous.”
“Do you want West to return?”
“Why of course not.”
“Then I suggest that you don’t make too much of Duke Northcross darkening your doorstep. West evidently has some access to the social doings of the nobility. If the story is spread around, you might incite his unstable mind,” Sara said, absolutely convinced she told Grianna the truth.
“Oh, my,” she said. “How silly of me. Do you think a week or two will be long enough?”
Sara shook her head. Grianna didn’t understand the peril she might put herself in. “Until I return to Obridge, Grianna. Wait until I’m gone, then you can write a book about it.”
“Oh, a book! How novel.” Grianna laughed and Sara couldn’t resist laughing either.
Willa cleared her throat to get attention. “I hate to interrupt your ladyship, but we should hasten to get the project documented so the Countess can take it to her new house.”
“Of course. I’ll miss you both.” Grianna frowned but then brightened. “He did say I could visit, didn’t he?”
“Duke Northcross doesn’t rule either of our lives. We’ll just have to be discreet.” Sara smiled.
~~~
Chapter Twelve
Choster, the Butler
Klark stood at the front door. Sara had been waiting in the sitting room that fronted the street and saw the large carriage roll up. Willa brought him in.
He took her hands and gave her a little kiss on her cheek. “How is your hip?”
“The pain is a little better, but it seems to be stiffening up. Willa is helping me change the dressings,” Sara said.
Klark looked as if he had something further to say. Sara saw a gleam in his eye, but he restrained himself. He put out his hand to help Sara into the carriage after assisting with her cloak. Klark and the driver filled the carriage with bags and papers and shards of slate. They would set the slateboard fragments out again and create a new board at the new house.
They rolled through the streets of the city west of the palace where the large houses had views of the sea. The carriage turned down a narrow lane that seemed little more than an alley. The wheels bounced over common cobbles. They stopped at an opening in the stone wall on one side and rolled through an arched gate, bound by decorative iron and entered a modest courtyard, barely large enough for the coach to turn around.
“Here we are. This is a guesthouse that Duke Northcross has the use of. You’ll find that it’s a little jewel of a place. I inspected it myself before I came to pick you up. Four bedrooms, each with its own bath, a large sitting room, a study stocked with books and a dining room. The servants have quarters in the basement along with a kitchen and a boiler room for hot water. There is this courtyard with its modest garden. I’m sure you’ll find it all comfortable enough, but it is a bit off the beaten path. However, you can ask for whatever you’d wish as far as food and every few days I’ll be available to escort you wherever you wish.”
“Are we pris
oners, young man?” Willa said, squinting her eyes in her intimidating manner.
“No. The door is locked from the inside. You are free to leave at any time.” Klark looked at Sara. “The Duke suggests that you only go out escorted and armed.”
Sara couldn’t help but respond, “I am always armed, but I know what you mean. Thank you. We’d like to get unpacked.”
“The servants are all employed by Duke Northcross.”
Sara’s eyebrow rose.
“As servants, Sara, but they are loyal to the Duke and thereby to the Crown. Your existence here will not be compromised except by Lady Grianna, perhaps.”
Sara thought about it. “Blindfold her when you bring her here. I’ll send her a letter to that effect. She’ll think it’s a game, which in a sense, it is.”
“A serious game,” Klark said as he led the two women up the front steps. The double doors made two sides of a peaked arch, like the gate in the wall. A gabled portico protected the entrance, held up by fluted stone columns.
Sara found the decorating a bit on the masculine side. Seb and Enos would find the house very comfortable. Ben would never find it, and that would suit her just fine.
The study was nearly the size of Grianna’s library, but with less furniture, so they had more room to work. Sara perused the titles. All of the books were in very good condition.
Klark and the driver brought in the sacks of slate shards. Sara had numbered them and she directed the servants to place them in a specific order. Willa had already carried two of her bags up the stairs followed by Klark and the driver. The servants were summoned. There were two maids, a cook and a man introduced as a butler, but no butler was built like this man nor had scars on his face and hands as he did.
Klark introduced them and then excused himself. Sara walked him out to the carriage.
“And Choster, the butler? He’s a soldier, isn’t he?”
“Better than a soldier. If you want to continue your training in arms, he’s here to help you. This courtyard gets some sun and is protected somewhat from the sea winds. You have your gun?”
