Coins and Daggers

by Patrice Hannah

  He glanced at her through the corner of his eye and frowned. “I am content, Ryia, so will you cease with the subject of this conversation? I do have other matters to attend to.”

  His sister retreated just a step, the shudder in her sigh pulling at the iron strings of his heart. Ryia might be truly concerned about his welfare but in all honesty, Ulric needed her not to be. He was a man entirely at ease with his lifestyle and needed no interference, not from her and certainly not from a pesky wife either. He enjoyed his freedom and space, and was intent on keeping it that way for a very long time to come.

  “I suppose I shall be seeing you in the dining hall later then?” Her voice was laced with disappointment and just the faintest of confidence.

  “It’s best you not to keep your hopes up tonight, Ryia. I usually dine privately.”

  Seven

  Chastelle Manor naturally was a quiet place, and that was not due to its small number of occupants but for the very little social engagement ever occurring within its walls over the past few years. Such walls were well-known to be fences of silence and witnesses of the rarest degrees of solitude.

  But today... A day of no extraordinary prospects, laughter drifted from the library and down the hall. It was such a surprising distraction that Ulric found himself striding in the direction of the chatter. The guard, Gilgallon, stood erect by the door, a flask in his hand. Ulric cleared his throat and the man immediately hid it behind him, and bowed.

  “Gilgallon. Tell me, since when did I require a guard for my library?”

  “Sir Montagu requested it, sir.”

  Frowning, Ulric reached for the knob on the door and shoved it open. Why on earth would Edwin request such a thing? Stepping inside the coolness of the well-stocked room, he was immediately assaulted by the scent of lavender water and his best friend’s voice.

  “It is nothing at all, Ryia. I am a man of my word, as you can see.”

  “I’ve never doubted you, Edwin. Who would have thought, though?”

  “Who would have thought what?” Ulric interjected, glancing between Edwin and his sister. “It seems you two have forgotten to invite me to whatever you are celebrating.”

  Lady Ryia scoffed and chuckled. “Of course, I haven’t forgotten. Edwin, here, was quite hell-bent on fetching you from whatever hole you’ve been in all morning but we all know of how much of a party-spoiler you can be.”

  “And you, dear sister, never cease to wound me.” He placed a mock hand over his heart and gave her his best affronted expression. “How can I make it up to you?”

  Edwin laughed and shook his head. “You can start by listening in on your sister’s rants of gratitude. She’s very happy this morning.”

  Lady Ryia giggled. “And you are far too modest, Edwin. You know exactly what I’m so grateful for. If it weren’t for you, I probably would have never found such an outstanding lady’s maid. Least of all one that is of such good company.”

  Ulric eyed Edwin and moved to take his seat facing them. “Ah. A lady’s maid?”

  “Yes. I don’t know where he found her but I’d have never thought to find one so very well-versed and accomplished. And at so young a age. But she comes with remarkable recommendations.”

  Edwin chuckled and sipped on a tankard, all the while maintaining Ulric’s eye contact. “She’s an accomplished lady’s maid. Her last employer also admired her greatly as a companion, as I’d been informed.”

  “And where did you find this girl, Edwin?” Ulric asked, ignoring the tick that was forming in his left eye. A part of him dreaded the answer he knew he’d be given.

  “Not far from here, actually. I found her in an inn near the outskirts.”

  Ulric glanced at his friend for a good couple seconds, masking his disapproval entirely. “Then I hope all goes well.” He brushed an invisible lint from his coat and smiled. “Uh, Edwin... I’d almost forgotten. There’s a matter in my study that I would love your assistance with.”

  “Now?”

  “Perhaps later. Around noon?”

  * *

  Boredom was not a befitting pastime for someone who, often out of necessity, had allowed herself not be plagued by such a privilege.

  Eyeing the slim volumes of literature chronologically arranged on one plank of the tall shelving, Audelia did allow herself a few glances around the room. She’d been told that this was the lord’s library. A room only himself and relatives ever used on occasion, and that was so only because no one else ventured there. Either that or no one else appreciated fine literature, science and philosophy. It was a room that much reminded her of another room--one she had dearly tried to forget.

  Her fingers ran a course down very well-bounded spines and across several of such volumes, her palms itching to remove just one for her own private perusal. It had been a long while, roughly a year even, since she’d enjoyed any form of reading material.

  It had been thus since she’d worn a dress also. And she’d never thought before of how uncomfortable such an ordeal could be. Perhaps, she had grown far too used to the freedom of wearing breeches. Freedom, she thought, cutting her eyes pass the many shelves across the room. She was far from being free, at least not for another week or so according to the bloke’s terms. By bloke, she referred to Edwin Montagu or so he had said his name was. She was to behave in a civil manner, act as lady’s maid to a Baroness--an important one since said Baroness was also the sister to the slighting Lord of Chastelle--and thereafter she shall be considered liberated from her crimes and be set free.

  They were hardly terms Audelia had found to be agreeable seeing that she’d never waited on a soul in her life, much less knew how to. Perhaps it could be no much different than what she would do for herself, giving that the Baroness had proven to be not too hard to please.

  The one wide window in the room provided a pleasing view of a garden Audelia had not imagined to be present on such a property. While within the confines of a dark dusty cell and a boarded up room, she had not expected the rest of the manor to be so comely, least of all homely. A man such a Lord Chastelle ought not to be allowed such fine a home, given that his manners were far from. Mayhap she shouldn’t be the one to point out etiquette since she’d long since banished that from her very short list of attributes.

  There had also been a time, even in its briefest moment, when she’d been proud of such an attribute...

  “I hear you are quite skilled at the viola,” Lady Dextrem remarked, tilting her head in a very aristocratic manner.

  Audelia glanced across the dining table at Madame de Lucci who was smiling agreeably. “I admit that I might need more practice, Your Ladyship.”

  “Oh, you are far too modest, child,” Her Ladyship chuckled. “I have it on a good opinion that you are quite the champion on that instrument. Your Madame has declared as much.”

  “And if I may, Your Ladyship,” Miss Darcott threw in, “she is rather proficient at drawing as well.”

  Lady Dextrem beamed. “Well, then. You ought to be proud of such attributes, Miss Rolfen. They will bring you a long way in circles like my own.”

  “A very accomplished girl, is she?” Lord Dextrem interjected for the first time since they’d taken dinner. His spectacled gaze had not left his meal until now. “I believe we are very interested on seeing just how much more accomplished you are.”

  A fleeting glance passed between His Lordship and his wife before he retired back to his meal...and of course, silence.

  Audelia sipped on her broth and smiled despite her nerves. Such compliments were unusual and she supposed she ought not to think too much of it, lest she failed to soak up the pleasant feelings they evoked.

  “Searching for something to steal, are you?”

  Audelia spun immediately from the window--and her memories--to come face to face with the source of those words. Her eyes wandered over the man and she forced herself to curtsy; an awkward one, but one nonetheless.

  “Milord.”

  “A civil thief too
.” He allowed the door to click close and then moved in for the kill. “Who would have thought?”

  However hard it was, Audelia chose to keep a reign on her temper and bit her tongue. Managing another stiff bow, she moved around him quickly. “Forgive me, milord, but the Baroness must be in need of me now.”

  One hand snaked out and grasped her none too gently around the arm. Audelia’s eyes widened, gaze planted on the manly hand enclosed around the royal-blue sheer fabric of her long-sleeves. It was a very big, handsome...manly hand; much like the rest of its owner but she was hardly likely to admit that. Not when her freedom was currently hanging by a thread, not to mention her wits.

  The grip was then loosened and the Lord Chastelle lowered his hand.

  “You might as well take a seat, Miss. My sister has not yet waken from her afternoon nap and I would very much like a word with you.”

  Gritting her teeth, Audelia did as she was told and took a seat as far away from the man as she could. It was an armchair positioned near the window. Too bad, the window was grilled from the outside.

  “As you wish, sir.” Damned big-headed, he was.

  “Of course.” He offered a daunting smile and reached for a flagon that had been left behind from his earlier sitting with Edwin and Ryia. He poured himself an inch and turned to face her again. “As you can see, I am quite at my leisure.”

  The Lord of Chastelle--or even so, Lord St. Rosso, took his own sweet time taking a turn about the room, examining a few books and according to Audelia’s perception, possibly to check if any had gone missing. She was a thief, she acknowledged that as much, but hardly one to steal under the given circumstances or rather, the lack of profitable circumstances.

  But the fact that he was moving about the room, ignoring her and expecting her to sit unbothered by the act, deeply offended her and spurned an icy retort that came far too late to withdraw. “I, milord, on the other hand, am not.”

  “How do you find the library, Miss Rolfen?”

  Audelia’s gaze flickered upwards and stayed there, eyeing the man as he regarded her with some air of triumph. His gaze was cool but somehow managed to burn a hole through her chest, revealing the thumping heart that lay within it. How on earth had he...?

  “And I see you have accomplished the task of knowing my name.”

  “Not a difficult task entirely. A fairly easy one too.” He refused to let her know that she had been the one to blurt it out, in a very deep sleep, last eve. “But that shall be our little secret, won’t it? Since my sister has already seen it fit to know you as Lia Moresen, according to your colorful bogus references.”

  Her breathing steadied a bit as she pondered the guv’s statement. Men of his stature always placed honor on their word while she, by experience, knew better than to take a man’s oath seriously. “And are the terms, the ones your friend had lain out, to be credible?”

  “Very much so, given that you abide by them. But I do have one particular request.”

  Lord St. Rosso approached her then, stirring a finger in his cup of spirits. He was so close, she had to tilt her head all the way back. And even then, from such a painful angle, she could still make out the tiny laugh lines framing the corners of his mouth. Though Audelia would have never imagined him to be of the laughing sort. She still did not.

  “And what is that?” She managed that out coolly, and pass the lump in her throat.

  “Do not form any attachments with my sister. I understand that she already thinks you are good company which we both know you are very much not. I am to understand that great lady’s maids are hard to find. Hers is quite advanced in years and soon she might be searching for a replacement.” He sipped on his drink and glared down at her. “You are not to be considered for such an employment, understood?”

  Understood quite clearly, Your Arse. “I would not dream of it. Anything else?”

  “No. You may take your leave now.”

  Much obliged, Audelia jumped to her feet, wrestling her legs to move quickly beneath the restraints of her skirts. The faster she were to walk, the sooner she would be out of the man’s presence. In her opinion, Lord St. Rosso should be the last person to comment on the virtues of good company and the fact that he had, showed irony at its best.

  Her hand had just closed over the knob of the door when his baritone voice sounded again. “What brought you to the library?”

  She turned slowly. “I thought you’d already convicted me of attempted burglary, milord. Again.”

  He chuckled then, revealing a row of perfectly formed white teeth. Audelia allowed herself a glance at his countenance, silently pleased at the perfection in his features. Lord St. Rosso was undoubtedly a handsome man. “With your freedom hanging on the line, I hardly believe you would do anything to sever our contract.”

  A handsome...and far from daft man. Audelia looked about the room a bit before she met Lord St. Rosso eyes again. “As far as I know, sir, a library is built to store books, and books to enlighten the mind. If I am to be punished for seeking good reading material, milord, let me know so that I can better anticipate it.”

  “And what, pray tell, is your idea of good reading material?”

  Audelia swallowed, her hand reaching again for the door. In truth, she did have a favorite in reading material. But the most reading she’d accomplished was during her stay in that orphanage as a child, and even that mostly only consisted of Latin and scrolls noting the teachings of the Church. Within just a moment of fleeing the room, she decided a honest answer. “Anything worthwhile, milord, and perhaps with the occasional hint of humor.”

  Eight

  The first signs of sunset threaded their way across the evening sky, the sun’s rays barely visible behind the high mountains that sat beyond the dense woodland, and far out from the estate’s neat trimmings.

  Audelia’s hasty getaway from Lord St. Rosso had sent her hurrying down three turns of a winding staircase and towards the cool outdoors. She had found herself, some two hours past, enjoying the gentle breeze and the fresh aroma of nature. All the while, the robust-looking guard who hardly ever spoke a word, lingered in the shadows as if she hadn’t a clue he was there. But she knew, for a following shadow was something easily detected especially for someone who had spent a great deal of time looking over her shoulder.

  But what mattered now was that her treacherous heart had stopped hammering against her left breast and her faculties were back in good order. Surely, she had allowed her foolish mind to cultivate too idiotic of thoughts and wanderings. She was Audelia Rolfen. She was practical; and not one to give in to lascivious desires. Not that she would have described herself as pure, for she was not. A momentary lapse in judgment and sensibility had declared her as such but she certainly was chaste and had no problem with that.

  She had had no problem with that until but a mere couple hours ago when she had been in Lord St. Rosso’s company. Again. A very handsome company, at that. She had admitted to herself that the man was quite pleasing on the eyes and although she had come across many a men of his caliber over the past few months, Audelia had never met one so entirely attractive. She knew she should hate him, must hate him and she did.

  But God save her soul, she was thinking of things she ought not to contemplate on, least of all to wish for.

  Lord St. Rosso had wonderful green eyes; the type that could zone in on a wench and have her drooling at his feet. His presence alone served much to be intimidated by for he was a big man who had even bigger pockets as well. Pockets that she might never have the chance to reach, which is why she had fully decided to keep up her end of the deal as lady’s maid to his sister and then go on her way. By that manner, she was sure to leave with her neck...and her heart intact.

  Stumbling to her cramping feet, Audelia brushed pieces of straw from the back of her skirts and sighed. She had almost forgotten where she had been sitting. The east stable, as she had come to know, was a relatively large housing and the closest of three to the main house. Ga
ze flickering over the empty stalls and stale scattered straw, she frowned, wondering where the horses were. Surely the Lord Chastelle was more than wealthy enough to healthily maintain such fine creatures.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?”

  Audelia turned at the crisp voice behind her. “Um...no. I was just taking a look around.”

  The man facing her was somewhere near middle-aged, with a gray receding hairline and a stout-ish frame. “And who might you be, girl?”

  Clamping her mouth shut lest she gave way to any vital information, Audelia took a deep breath and smiled, outstretching her hand. “Miss Lia Moresen, sir. And you?”

  The man wiped one large palm against the side of his buff breeches before accepting the polite gesture. “Brutus Marchal, at your service.” He then gave her a once-over. “You must be the maid to milord’s sister.”

  “I am.”

  Brutus Marchal flicked his tongue noisily through the gap between his two front teeth and nodded. “I’m the main stable-boy for this fine piece you’re standing in.” He chuckled and shot her a wink. “Stable-man, if you will.”

  Audelia smiled politely and returned her gaze to the interior of the stable. “Might I ask you a question, Mr. Marchal?”

  “Now, look here. Everyone calls me Brutus and I like it that way. So, Brutus it shall be.” He patted his rounded belly and smiled. “Now, out with your question, madam.”

  “Where are the horses?” When Audelia turned to face the man again, he was examining something in the roof that she could not make out.

  “This stable here houses mainly the master’s broodmares, you see. We had them moved to the main stable, since it’s bigger, so we can do some repairs. The roof’s leaking a bit and His Lordship admires his horses a great deal.”

  “I see.”

  “Yup. Won’t be until another week or so till the repairs are complete though.”

  And before that, she’d be long gone. “Of course.”